Chapter Five #3
“No.” I briefly consider not telling him the truth, but tonight I’m Ellie, not Taylor, the girl with walls around her heart. “You know those camping trips I mentioned?”
He nods, his brows knitting. “Yeah.” His grip tightens around my hand, as if he’s preparing to hear the worst and is offering silent support for whatever telling him might do to me.
“The last time we went camping, my mother stayed home. She said she wasn’t feeling well, and when we got back, she was gone for good.
” He squeezes my hand, and my throat constricts, but it’s not as hard to tell him as I thought it would be.
“She left a note saying she’d reconnected with an old boyfriend and wasn’t ready to give up on her dreams of traveling.
That was it. No apology, no promises of our relationship continuing. Just…see ya.”
“Jesus.” Seth shakes his head like he can’t fathom it, and how could he? His mother would never have done that to him. “You must have been devastated. How old were you?”
“I was thirteen, and I was completely crushed. I was so excited to see her and tell her about our trip. She loved talking about traveling, and I wanted to tell her about this place I’d heard about the last night of our trip. It was a secret. My dad and Becca don’t even know about it.”
“Who told you about it?”
“This older couple. I never got their names. While Becca and my dad were sleeping, I slipped out of the tent to use the bathroom, which was all the way at the end of the road. I couldn’t find a flashlight, so I headed out in the dark.”
“Bet your father wouldn’t have liked that.”
“He’s the one who taught me to be tough.
Anyway, I wasn’t alone for long. The older couple in the campsite next to ours was heading the same way with one of those old lanterns, so we walked together.
But to be honest, when they first fell into step with me and said I shouldn’t walk alone, I was kind of annoyed.
I didn’t need a babysitter, and they walked really slowly, but I didn’t want to be rude.
They said it was their anniversary, and that they’d met when they were each camping with friends fifty-two years earlier. ”
“Nice.”
“Yeah, it was. They told me about a place they’d stumbled upon when they were on their honeymoon.
They called it a glass orchard and said it was on a hidden hillside, with about a dozen fruit trees with dozens of glass baubles of all shapes and sizes and colors hanging from the branches, and each one had a message written on it.
Some were too faded for them to read, but others bore fragments of people’s lives, words of love, hope, and grief.
It sounded magical. I have no idea if it was true or not, but every year they camped someplace new to celebrate their anniversary, and they said they hoped they’d find more places like that. ”
“Did they say where it was?”
“I didn’t even think to ask. I remember being really taken with them.
They finished each other’s sentences and held hands the whole way.
” I smile with the memory of that calm before my life was upended.
“I still remember that lantern swinging between us, making that telltale whooshing sound that kerosene lanterns make.”
“That’s an unforgettable sound,” he says with a smile. “A hallmark of my youth.”
“We have that in common.” My smile fades with the rest of the story. “But I never got to tell my mom that story, and I’ve never told anyone else, until now. It was my secret. One beautiful thing to hold on to.”
“A beacon of hope in a life that stopped making sense after your mom left.”
I swallow hard against the emotions his understanding brings. “Yeah,” I say softly.
“Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m sorry your mom wasn’t the mother you deserved.”
His words burrow deep, but I don’t want my mother’s leaving to take over this night.
Sitting up taller, I try to play it off like it doesn’t still hurt.
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago, and it made me stronger.
Now she and that man, whom she never married, live on a communal farm in Virginia, and she calls from time to time, but she has her life and I have mine. ”
The words hang between us, leaving me a little too raw, so I reach for lighter ground. “And the silver lining? That’s when I started volunteering at the animal shelter, which, believe it or not, was great therapy. That place became my safe haven.”
“In what way?”
In every way seems too easy an answer. If I’ve learned one thing talking to Seth, it’s that he doesn’t let easy answers go without explanation. I rarely allow myself to revisit those painful times, but with him, they’re not quite as hard.
“My dad was trying to hold everything together for us, and the age differences between us kids were just enough to make me the annoying younger sister.” I know I have to mention Taylor, so I split Becca’s real emotions between her and our fictitious older brother.
“Taylor isn’t one to share his feelings, and Becca never stews over anything, so they went on living their lives, going out with friends, pretending everything was fine.
Or that’s how it seemed to me. Anyway, with Dad telling me to buck up, that we’d get through it, and the others doing their own thing, I felt…
alone. Being with the animals at the shelter filled that gap. ”
“My dad used to say, never underestimate the healing power of dogs and cats, excluding big jungle cats, of course.”
I smile. “Smart man.”
“There’s that beautiful smile. How many animals did you adopt from the shelter?”
“None. My dad couldn’t afford any extra mouths to feed.”
He nods. “And now? Do you have pets?”
“No, I don’t think I could handle raising a pet and then losing it, but I still volunteer at the shelter, and sometimes, if I’m feeling particularly lonely, I bring a dog home for the night. That can be a little trying, depending on the dog, but it’s worth it.”
Something sharp and warm flickers in Seth’s eyes, like he’s filing that piece of me away.
Realizing how much of myself I’ve revealed, I try to shift the conversation. “What about you? Where is your safe haven?”
He’s quiet for a minute, and I can practically see the gears in his head churning, as if he’s analyzing the question and his possible responses to it. “I’ve never really had one.”
I frown, curiosity tugging at me. If he had an office, I’d think that might be his safe haven, but he doesn’t.
He finds them too confining and prefers to meet business colleagues in their offices or in restaurants or other properties he owns.
But I’m surprised he doesn’t consider one of his homes a safe haven.
“You don’t feel that way about your home, or Ridgeport? ”
“I love being in Ridgeport, but I don’t really get attached to places in that way. If I have a safe haven, it’s my family. They keep me grounded.” He pauses, studying me. “You mentioned being lonely. Does that mean you don’t date often?”
My pulse kicks up, those blue eyes holding mine so intensely, I wonder if he can hear my heart thundering.
“Not very often. You?” As I ask, I realize I don’t know much about his personal life.
It’s never mentioned on social sites, whereas his business life is.
I’ve never even seen a picture of him and a woman who isn’t a family member or business associate.
“Not very often,” he parrots, steady and sure. “Want to know what I think?”
His thumb skims along the side of my hand, sending heat slithering through me. I pick up movement in my peripheral vision as two couples walk past, but I can’t take my eyes off Seth.
Before I can respond to his question, he says, “I think we were meant to meet.”
His words lodge in my chest, and I become acutely aware of everything.
The band’s pulsing beat, the feel of Seth’s thigh brushing mine, his shoulder angling toward me, like he’s mapping out what might come next.
A voice in my head says to tell him who I really am, but if he knew the truth, it could blow up my life, and even if it didn’t, he’d see me as his assistant, not as a woman.
I want to know what it feels like to be wanted by Seth more than I want my next breath.
Just this once, I allow myself to be selfish for the weekend.
Tucking the truth down deep, I say, “Why? Do you know something I don’t?”
His grin turns a little wicked as he leans in. “Maybe I do.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” I say, tipping closer.
His gaze drops to my mouth, lingering long enough to make me want him even more. When his eyes meet mine, the heat and hunger in them steal my ability to think. He reaches up and caresses my cheek, sending a shiver of heat through my core, as he says, “I’m sure about this.”
“You don’t even know me” comes out softly.
“That’s what tonight is for.” He leans closer, his breath feathering against my cheek as he whispers, “Learning.”
The word vibrates through me. I’m so aware of his nearness, my insides tighten with anticipation. “And what have you figured out so far?”
“That you’re a secret sharer with more sweetness than any woman should be allowed to possess.” He tucks my hair behind my ear and trails his fingers down my cheek.
My pulse trips, and the voice in my head chants, Kiss me. Just kiss me.
His eyes flame, as if he heard it, too, and he says, “You’ve given me a glimpse, but you’re holding back, guarding the parts that hurt most.”
My breath catches. How can he see that in only one night? It feels like he’s stripping me bare, peeling away the defenses I’ve spent years building.
“Your heart speaks louder than your head,” he says, as if it’s a fact, his thumb grazing my jaw, slow and deliberate. “And you don’t know how you feel about that.”
His accuracy has me lowering my eyes, heat flooding my cheeks, wishing I could hide but unable to pull away.
“You have a lot of love to give,” he continues, and cups my cheek, tilting my face up enough to catch my eyes again. “But you haven’t found someone worthy of receiving it.”
My throat works around a lump I can’t swallow. I want to believe him. I want to believe he sees me. Not my disguise, not the lie I’m hiding, just me. The woman who has wanted him from afar for so long.
He brushes his scruff along my cheek, sending sparks darting through me, and rasps, “You don’t like that I see that in you.
” He pulls back just enough for me to see his eyes, which are dark with desire and a surety that electrifies me.
“But, my sweet, strong girl, you like when I get under your skin.”
A laugh slips out, too breathless to be a denial.
“Thought so,” he whispers.
His mouth comes coaxingly down over mine, a delicious mix of champagne, spice, and Seth.
I lean in, and his hand slides beneath my hair to the nape of my neck, fingers hot on my skin, possessive in a way that makes my pulse stutter.
His other arm locks around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard chest as he deepens the kiss with unwavering control.
His tongue sweeps through my mouth excruciatingly slowly and mind-numbingly thoroughly, tasting, testing, then claiming every blessed piece of it.
A desperate moan slips out, and a rough, hungry sound rumbles up his chest, into our kiss.
The feel of it wrecks me. I fist my hands in his shirt, dragging him closer, and his answering growl only feeds our fire.
His hand tightens in my hair, angling my mouth beneath his, kissing me deeper, harder, more demandingly, like he can’t get enough.
Heat and want crash through me with every stroke of his tongue.
When his palm slides up my bare back, my body bows into him, breath catching, blood pounding, obliterating everything else but him.
By the time our lips part, I’m dizzy with desire, lost in how easy and right it feels to give myself over to him, and the terrifying truth that I don’t want to stop kissing him.
Apparently he doesn’t either, because he growls, “Christ, El,” and comes back for more, undoing me all over again with a string of slow, drugging kisses.
The shrill ring of my phone slices through the haze. I freeze, and Seth groans low in his throat. “Ignore it,” he says against my mouth.
“I can’t,” I whisper, though every cell in my body begs me to. “It might be my dad.”
“Of course. Sorry.” He pulls back.
I search the sand for my purse and see him pulling the strap over his head. I forgot he had it. He hands it to me, and I quickly take out my phone, seeing Dad on the screen. Worry pushes through the fog of desire, and I answer it. “Hey, Dad. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find the spare extension cord.” He sounds irritated. “The one we used for the Christmas lights. I need it for the fan in the garage. I swear I put it with the rest of the tools, but I’ve torn this place apart and I can’t find it.”
Relief floods me. “You left it in the basement last week when you were fixing the hot water heater,” I say gently. “What are you working on?”
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
I doubt that. “Please be careful.”
“Always am. Thanks, kiddo. How’s your trip? You relaxing?”
“Actually, yes. I’m sitting on the beach at a bonfire right now.”
“Well, I guess miracles do happen. Attagirl.”
I smile, but I don’t think he’d say that if he knew I was making out with a client. The thought makes my stomach twist. “Love you, Dad.”
“Yup,” my father says.
As I end the call, Seth says, “Is your dad okay?”
“Yeah. He couldn’t find something. Give me a sec to text Becca and ask her to stop by in case he gets into trouble.
” I text Becca and ask her to check on him, and add, Don’t text back.
Busy. My phone chimes almost immediately with a text from her.
A quick glance shows me a string of emojis—heart eyes, an eggplant, a devil, and three flames.
I shove my phone into my purse before Seth catches a glimpse of it.
Seth pushes to his feet and brushes sand from his clothes. He extends his hand and a sexy smile and says, “Dance with me before I kiss you senseless and can’t stop.”
Not stopping sounds incredibly good to me.
Guilt trickles in. I should tell him I’m Taylor, but I know it would douse the flames, and I couldn’t bear that.
This is only a fling, a once-in-a-lifetime fantasy.
Becca’s words come back to me—Use this weekend to play out a fantasy.
Go wild with some guy you’ll never see again—underscoring my rationalization.
Clinging to that, I push the guilt away and take Seth’s outstretched hand, and he pulls me to my feet.
He slides an arm around my waist, guiding me up the beach toward the other dancing couples.
When we reach the mass of swaying bodies, he draws me into his arms, and just like that, I’m exactly where I want to be—wrapped up in him and wanting more.