Starting Over (Treading Water Trilogy) (30 page)

Colin knew he was being reckless and that his parents would have a joint heart attack if they could see him right then, but he was so sick and tired of being cautious, of doing the right thing, and of being the guy everyone could count on.
What the hell good has it done me?
I’m thirty-six years old, and I’m alone.
Right then he could see why people turned to alcohol the way Brandon had.
It must be nice to have something to make it all go away
.

The road narrowed, and Colin downshifted to slow the bike. All at once, he felt like an idiot for behaving so foolishly. He was in charge of a business that provided a living for more than forty people. His responsibilities to them and their families kept him from throttling back up on the next stretch of flat, empty road. This wasn’t helping anyway. The only thing that would help was the one thing he couldn’t have.

At the next opportunity, Colin made a U-turn to head back to Chatham. Since he had the cover of his helmet and facemask to hide behind, he decided to drive by Meredith’s house when he got back to town. He took a slow turn on to Stepping Stones Road and kept the bike in second gear as he crept along the quiet street. His stomach fluttered with nerves as he approached her house—this definitely felt like stalking, but he’d gone beyond caring about that earlier in the day when he’d been unable to talk to her. The porch light was on, and Colin almost fell off his bike when he saw her sitting on the front stairs. Crying. Even with just the faintest of lights shining on her, there was no doubt about it. She was crying.

He drove past the house and the cemetery across the street to a stop sign at the end of the block. The bike idled loudly while he tried to decide what to do.
If you go back, she’ll know you were cruising by her house like a lovesick teenager
.
Aw, screw it. Who cares?
He turned the bike around.

When he slowed to a stop in front of her house, Meredith stood up and reached for the handle to the storm door.
What the hell?

“Hey, it’s only me.” He propped his helmet on the seat. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, Colin,” she said, her hand over her heart. “You scared me.”

“Who did you think I was?” he asked, sitting next to her on the top step.

“Um, no one. But you’re about the last person I’d expect to see on a motorcycle.”

“Am I that much of a nerd?”

She laughed, a delicate sound that reminded him of crystal glasses and champagne toasts. “That’s not what I meant. Although I
am
wondering how your motorcycle found its way to my street.”

“Why are you crying on Easter?”

“I asked first.”

“I missed you.” He turned so he could see her big brown eyes. “Your turn.”

“I missed
you
,” she confessed, her cheeks blushing to that fetching shade of pink he’d first fallen in love with. Any doubt that he was in love with her had vanished the moment he saw her crying.

He took her hand and kissed it. “Why didn’t you call me?”

She shrugged. “I thought you wouldn’t want to hear from me after the last time.”

“You thought wrong.” He held her hand against his lips. “I’ve been a grumpy, cranky, pain in the ass. My employees have had it with me, and it’s all your fault.”

“How’s it my fault?” she asked, amused.

“Because all I could think about for the last month was the girl I couldn’t have.” He used their joined hands to tug her closer and kissed her ever so softly. When he pulled back, he said, “Want to go for a ride?”

Her eyes widened. “On that?”

He nodded, breathless with longing.

She studied the bike for a moment. “Yes. Take me for a ride, Colin.”

His heart soared with hope. “Grab a jacket.”

“I need to get changed,” she said, gesturing to her skirt. “Give me five minutes?”

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

After she went inside, Colin turned his face into the light rain that had begun a few minutes earlier. He said a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god might’ve put her on the front porch at the same time he was riding by. Maybe this time…

“Ready?” she asked when she came back wearing form-fitting jeans and a denim jacket.

Colin whistled as he stood up. “You’re one
hot
biker chick.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorted. “That’s me. A real biker chick.”

She followed him to the curb.

He put his helmet on her, secured it under her chin, and helped her onto the back of the bike.

“What about a helmet for you?”

“We’ll swing by my house to get another one.” He got on in front of her and reached back for her hands. “Feel free to hold on as tight as you can.”

She giggled. “This is all a ploy, isn’t it?”

“Hey, whatever works.” As he started the bike, the pressure of her thighs clutching his backside made him rock hard. When her full breasts pressed against his back, he was thankful that the roar of the bike drowned out his groan.

“Ready?”

He felt her nod and gave the bike some gas.

She held on tight for the short ride to his house, where he grabbed a second helmet from the garage.

“Now that you know where I live, you can drive down my street anytime you want,” he said.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

When he got back on the bike, she resumed the position. Having her wrapped around him was the closest thing to heaven he’d ever known, and Colin wondered how long he could reasonably keep her there. He went back out to Route 28, but this time he stayed under fifty miles per hour in deference to the rain and his precious cargo. At the Brewster town line, he turned around and went back to Chatham. They cruised down Main Street to Shore Road. Colin parked at Chatham Light and turned off the bike, removed his helmet, and helped Meredith with hers.

“That was great.” She used her fingers to straighten her hair. “I loved it.”

He sat facing her on the small seat, and ran his hands over her denim-clad thighs. “You’re all wet from the rain.”

“I don’t care.”

They gazed at each other with hungry eyes for a long, breathless moment before Colin hooked a hand around the back of her neck to bring her to him. The kiss was full of tender restraint, but it packed a powerful punch to the gut. He kept the kiss chaste until her tongue sought out his. That was when he angled his head to go deeper.

She moaned.

Lifting her legs over his, Colin pulled her onto his lap.

She wrapped her arms around him, and when he cupped her bottom to keep her anchored to him, she rewarded him with a provocative tilt of her hips.

The kiss was broken when Colin groaned and swore softly. He kept one hand firmly on her bottom while his other hand ventured under her shirt in search of warm soft skin. Nudging her silky dark hair aside, he trailed his tongue lightly over her neck. “Are you going to take a chance on me, Meredith? On us?”

She shivered from the attention he was paying to her neck. “Oh, Colin, I want to, I really do, but nothing’s changed.”

“One thing
has
changed,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Colin…” She pulled back from him. “You aren’t. You can’t be.”

“I am and I can. I’ve thought of nothing but you since I saw you last.” She looked down, and he rested his hand on her face to bring her gaze back to his. “Tell me what it is—what’s standing in our way. Tell me who you thought I was earlier and why you were afraid.”

She gripped his wrists and dissolved into tears.

“Oh, honey, don’t.” He hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you to cry.” He held her for a long time, until her sobs finally subsided.

“When you pulled up on the motorcycle,” she said, brushing the tears off her face, “I thought you were the man who almost killed me when I was nineteen.”

Colin gasped.

“He’s out of jail, and he wants to see me.”

 

Chapter 27, Day 74

Brandon carried their bags from the car and led Daphne to a guesthouse behind the inn. “You were only supposed to bring a toothbrush,” he said, pretending to be burdened by the weight of her bag.

“I snuck in a few other necessities,” she said with a sexy grin that made his blood boil with lust.

“That sounds interesting.”

“Where’d you get the key?”

“I came over to get it yesterday. I wanted to get all the ‘how’ve you been for the last twenty years’ small talk with my friend out of the way, so I wouldn’t have to waste half an hour of my night with you on that.”

Daphne’s giggle was tinged with nerves. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

He dropped his shoes and their bags inside the door and turned to her. “It’s not possible for you to disappoint me.” Running his fingers through her long blonde hair, he dipped his head to kiss her. “I love you so much, Daph,” he whispered. “So much.” He kissed her again. “And I love this dress. I can’t believe you made it yourself.”

“I make them every year.”

“Even when it was only the two of you who’d see them.”

“We had our own celebrations.” She gave him a quick kiss and reached for her bag. “I need ten minutes in the bathroom.”

“It’s right there,” Brandon said, pointing to a door off the sitting area.

“This is a beautiful room.”

It was decorated in bold floral patterns and white lace. An antique cherry sleigh bed with a lace canopy was the room’s focal point.

“Your friend left us a note,” Daphne said. “Dear Brandon and Daphne, Welcome to Rock Harbor! The champagne is on me. Breakfast is served in the main house beginning at nine, or we can bring it to your room, if you’d prefer. Stay as long as you’d like tomorrow. Good to see you yesterday, Brandon. Enjoy!”

“That’s nice,” he said. “Do you want some champagne? It won’t bother me if you have some.”

“But then you won’t be able to kiss me, and we can’t have that, now can we?”

Riveted by her softly spoken words, Brandon shook his head.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

Brandon removed his suit coat, unbuttoned his shirt, and tugged it free of his pants. Using a book of matches on the mantel, he lit the fire that had been laid for them in the fireplace and then the candles that were scattered about the room. In the kitchenette, he ran cold water over his face, brushed his teeth, and splashed on a touch of cologne.

He turned on the radio and traced a finger over the condensation on the bottle of champagne floating in the ice bucket. In his old life, he would’ve needed a shot or two of Jack Daniels right about now to calm his nerves. In his new life, he didn’t want anything to take away from the exquisite pleasure of this moment with the love of his life.

“Brandon.”

He turned to her.

She leaned against the doorway, wearing a long silk nightgown in the palest shade of peach. The firelight cast a warm glow upon her face and hair.

Brandon couldn’t take his eyes off her as she moved toward him like a dream come true.

She pushed his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, and it fluttered to the floor behind him.

He brought her into his arms. “After I first met you,” he said gruffly, “I thought of you as ‘the goddess.’ But now I’m in need of a better word, because that one doesn’t do you justice.”

She laughed softly as she nuzzled his chest hair.

With a finger on her chin, he lifted her mouth to his. Calling on patience he didn’t know he had, Brandon kept the kiss light. “Dance with me,” he said, raising her arms to loop them around his neck.

His hands never stopped moving over the silk gown as they moved together.

“Oh, this is the song Declan sang to Jessica when he proposed,” she said after they’d danced to several songs.

“Who is it?”

“Keith Urban.” She sang along in a quiet voice about love and making memories.

“I like it. I’ll bet Dec’s version was awesome. He can really sing. Aidan can, too. And you ought to hear him play the piano. He’s amazing.”

“What about you?”

“I got none of it.”

“Come on,” she cajoled.

Waggling his eyebrows, he said, “I have other skills.”

“Such as?” she asked with a coy smile.

A groan rumbled through him as he leaned down to mold his mouth to hers, this time exploring every corner of her sweet warmth. When her tongue mated with his, Brandon tightened his arms around her and lifted her. He walked them to the bed and gently laid her down, stretched out next to her, and picked up the kiss where he’d left off.

She rolled into his arms, her hand cruising over his back and then clutching his biceps as he caressed her breast through the silk gown. Her fingers in his hair urged him to replace his hand with his mouth.

He suckled her through the silk barrier before he slid the fragile straps off her shoulders and nudged the gown to her waist. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her breast.

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