Chapter 4 #2
“You treat your electronics like they're a fine piece of art.” She laughed. “I seriously doubt you’d do that.” She leaned back into his strong frame, enjoying the moment, knowing she probably shouldn’t, but couldn’t stop herself if she tried.
He felt too safe. Too much like the old days.
Too much like she’d found a small piece of herself she’d forgotten.
“I’ll take your old phone,” she whispered. “And I’ll let you put me on your plan.”
He jerked his head back. “Just like that? No argument? And I don’t have to beg or grovel?”
“As much as I like sparring with you sometimes, no. Every penny right now I need for the marina. A cell phone plan isn’t going to put much of a dent in my finances, but it will help.” She reached back and patted his face. “However, you will let me do a few favors in return.”
“I kind of like the sound of that.” He inched to her side, leaning against the counter, and winked.
“Get your head out of the gutter, Fletcher,” she said. “You’re gonna let me help you clean this place out finally.” She lowered her chin. “It’s time.”
He sighed. “Why? I like my house. I like all the things in it.”
“Oh, my God. The wallpaper in this kitchen dates back to the 1970s. The one in your bedroom is worse. And don’t get me going on the furniture.
I know it sometimes reminds you of your parents and grandma, and it’s your way of holding on to them, but there are other ways of doing that.
So, if I’m gonna let you help me with some of the stuff around the marina, you’re gonna let me help you purge some ghosts.
No argument. No sparring. Just a ‘yes, ma’am. ’”
He nodded. “Yes…ma’am.”
She smiled.
“Now, how about we listen to that message from Julie?”
“Ugh.” Baily glanced at the cell. Her heart filled with a mix of dread and uncertainty. “Fine.” She pressed the button and held the phone between them.
Julie’s voice filled the room, chipper and clipped all at the same time.
“Hi, Baily, it’s Julie. We were watching the news and couldn’t believe what we saw about Calusa Cove.
That’s crazy. Anyway, my father learned that the Crab Shack is up for auction, and I told him that it was right near the marina.
It got me thinking about how much Ken wanted you to sell the marina.
I can’t imagine that things are much better, and I suspect they’ll be worse now that the news broke that a serial killer was living right there…
for years. Ken always said Dewey had a screw loose.
Anyway, I wanted to remind you that we’ve got plenty of career opportunities for you here, and it would give you a chance to reconnect with your nephews.
Just a thought. Call me anytime between nine in the morning and seven at night. ”
The message ended, but the silence that followed roared louder than any thunder she’d ever experienced.
Fletcher let out a low breath. “Jesus. I’m not even sure how to unpack that.”
Baily tossed the phone on the counter, where it skidded and stopped near his keys.
“The timing of that call makes me suspicious, and I don’t even know why, except I never liked her or her family.
They’re all a bunch of rich snobs who look down on me and my life here in Calusa Cove. Like I’m some redneck or something.”
“Nothing wrong with having a little red on the collar.”
“She’s never wanted me in those boys’ lives,” Baily said bitterly. “Now she’s offering me a career opportunity? In exchange for seeing my brother’s kids? That’s cold. It also doesn’t make much sense. What difference does it make to her where I live or what I do with my damn life?”
“She always had opinions about me and the guys,” Fletcher said.
“In the beginning, she voiced them, though not too loudly. After she and Ken married, she just stopped being around us. When she was, she let us know that Ken would be leaving the Navy. But I don’t like how she’s dangling your nephews like bait.
” Fletcher squeezed her shoulder. “She’s trying to manipulate you, and I don’t understand why. ”
“She was different in the beginning,” Baily said, voice quieter. “Or maybe I just thought she was.”
“I know we’ve been through this a million times, but is there any part of you that remembers anything about a conversation with Ken or your dad about that damn loan?”
Baily stared at the tiled floor, then nodded slowly.
“Maybe. I don’t know. My dad and Ken argued a lot right before my dad died.
However, Ken seemed tired the last few times I spoke with him.
Worn out from deployments. From pressure.
From being caught in the middle of things, and he was always so quick to fight with me. ”
“Are you okay if I forward this message to myself and share it with the guys? And Chloe? Something about it feels like a warning, and it doesn’t sit right with me, especially since the marina was broken into and your gas was stolen.”
She stared at him, tears in her eyes. From anger. From frustration. And fear. “I’m so tired, Fletch. Of fighting for that marina. Of wondering what my brother got himself involved in. Of trying to hold everything together while the ground keeps shifting beneath me.”
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”
Her lips parted. “You say that, but you’ve left before, and I’m sorry, I can’t forget that.”
“I know.” He closed the distance between them. “And I wish things had turned out differently with us. It’s hard, because the Navy…being a SEAL…it wasn’t a bad thing for me. I can’t regret that part of my life but hate what it did to us.”
She looked at him then—and as if she really saw him. The man who had once been hers. The one who knew her better than anyone. The one who still made her heart ache.
She stepped closer, rested her cheek against his chest, and let out a shaky breath as his arms came around her. “I don’t know what I want,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“You don’t have to be.” His hand splayed across her back. “You can stay here.”
She nodded against him. “Okay.”
They stood there for a long while, wrapped in quiet and the soft pulse of something that hadn’t burned out—it had just been waiting.
He tilted her chin with his thumb and brushed his lips against her mouth, slow and deliberate. He tasted like marshmallows, chocolates, and memories.
Drawing back, she laced her fingers through his and tugged him through the kitchen and toward the staircase. Once at the top, she shed her sweatshirt, dropping it to the floor, and toyed with the hem of her tank top.
“Baily,” Fletcher whispered. “When you said you didn’t want to be alone, I just figured you wanted to crash here, not…” He tugged her to his chest, crashed his mouth against hers, and assaulted her lips like she was his last meal.
His hands slid down her back, pulling her flush against him, his body hard as iron. One hand grabbed the nape of her neck, angling her head. She sighed against his lips, melting into him. The world, with all its troubles and puzzles, faded away.
His touch turned fiery, his hands exploring her with an urgency that roused her from her long-held sleep.
Quickly, and without warning, he stepped back, ripping off his shirt and tossing it across the hallway.
His fingers deftly found the bottom of her tank top, yanking it over her head and tossing it to join his on the floor.
A soft gasp slipped through her lips when his hand cupped her breast over her bra—a lacy pink number that she’d splurged on a few years ago. His thumb grazed over her nipple, and she nearly came undone.
“Want me to stop?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly with desire. He didn't wait for her answer. Instead, he bent his head to take the lacy-covered peak into his mouth. The feel of his tongue against her sent a series of shocks down her spine.
“No,” she whimpered, her fingers threading through his hair. “Don't stop, Fletcher.”
Her plea must have sparked something primitive within him, as he needed no further encouragement, and he navigated the clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts from their confinement. His warm hands enveloped her newly exposed skin, sending electricity jolting through her body.
“Baily...” He groaned as she nipped at his neck playfully, making him shiver beneath her exploring hands.
His kisses grew hungrier, more demanding. That was until he picked her up effortlessly and carried her into the bedroom, their bodies never parting until he set her down on the bedspread. Standing at the foot of the bed, he stared at her. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Slowly, she reached for his jeans' button, fumbling like she’d never undone one.
He batted her hand away, released the button, and unzipped his pants.
“I can handle it from here,” she said with renewed confidence.
His breath hitched, and she felt a sense of satisfaction sweep over her as she watched the intoxicating play of emotions on his face.
She lowered his jeans and boxers over his hips and to the floor.
She took him into his hands, exploring him as if this were the first time she’d ever caressed him, and yet she still remembered every inch.
Holding him gently, she brought her lips to him…kissing, licking, tasting.
His hand dove into her hair as he let out a deep groan, and his head fell back.
She savored every sound he made as she bathed him with her tongue, doing everything in her power to push him to the edge.
And when she felt his control snapping, she pushed back onto her heels and looked up at him through lowered lashes.
“Baily,” he said hoarsely. “Come here.”
She had almost forgotten what it was like to be this close, this intimate with him. His rough, calloused hands mapped out her body, finally settling between her thighs. Fletcher nudged them apart, ripped off her matching pink panties, and stared at her with a smoky look in his eyes.
“This is a little different from the last time I was…here.” He traced his finger down the landing strip and took a broad stroke across her as she fisted the sheets. “I like it.”
“It’s new,” she managed between ragged breaths.
He arched a brow while his fingers danced circles over her sensitive skin, driving her mad. “Is there a reason?”
“Something to do in the shower?”
“Now that’s a visual.” He lowered his head, and then his tongue slid across her in a slow caress.
The sensation was too much, stealing her breath. Her back arched off the mattress as a moan spilled from her lips.
His fingers dipped lower, tracing the wet folds between her legs. When he slid one finger inside of her slick warmth, she whimpered and thrust her hips upward to deepen his touch. He moved slowly at first, sliding in and out, matching the rhythm of his swirling tongue.
Baily pressed her heels into the bedspread to bring him even closer, surrendering herself to the pleasure he was giving with no thought left for doubt or regret. “Fletcher,” she moaned loudly when his fingers curled slightly as he increased his pace.
He growled against her skin at that, lifting himself long enough to say huskily, “Say it again. I like hearing my full name roll off your lips.”
“Fletcher,” she managed with a ragged breath.
With a final brush of his tongue against her hot center and a couple more skillful strokes from his fingers, he tipped her over the edge.
She cried out in pleasure as wave after wave of ecstasy filled her.
Her body writhed and twisted on Fletcher's bed until the rush gradually subsided, leaving behind a lazy tide of bliss.
Panting, she looked at him. Fletcher's face flushed and was animalistic—raw desire reflected in those dark pools she found herself drowning in.
He crawled his way up alongside her until their bodies aligned. His hand slid up her thigh, dragging goosebumps in its wake. “I need to get protection from my wallet,” he whispered.
“Not necessary. On the pill.” She tried to keep herself steady, but when he pressed himself against her, she lost all control again.
The moment he entered her, time seemed to stand still.
They both froze, staring at each other in an intimate silence that spoke volumes more than words ever could.
Then Fletcher started moving in rhythm to their pulsating hearts.
The friction between them ignited a fire that had long been dormant but had now roared back to life.
His strokes began slow and deep, stirring the depths of emotions she’d kept hidden for so long. Her fingers curled into his back, her nails leaving fiery trails as she pulled him closer.
“Fletcher,” she gasped out, gripping him tighter as their union grew frantic and rushed.
“Yes,” he rasped. “God... Baily.”
His movements picked up speed, sending pleasure coursing through her body until it reached a breaking point. Heat spiraled from deep within her belly and radiated outward as an earth-shattering climax overtook her.
From somewhere in the hazy distance, she heard Fletcher cry out a strangled version of her name as he found his own release.
In the aftermath, they lay enveloped in each other's arms—the only sound being their mixed heavy breathing and the rhythmic beat of Fletcher's heart against Baily’s ear.
Her mind slowly drifted back to reality as he pressed his lips against her hair. As the quiet settled around them, she closed her eyes.
He rolled to the side, rustled the covers over their bodies, and pulled her close.
“I have to get up at six,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“I do as well.” He kissed her temple. “I have to work most of the day with Parks and Rec, and I have one airboat tour, but then whatever you need at the marina, I’m at your beck and call.”
“I’d rather clean out your old bedroom closet. I have a feeling that might be amusing.”
“Or embarrassing.” He tucked himself in behind her. “Get some sleep.
She sank deeper into his body and let the soft rhythm of his breathing lull her toward sleep. Hearing the faint splash of water outside, she realized everything had finally fallen silent—their world outside and their war within.