Chapter 5
Chapter Five
After they finished their tea and rinsed their cups, Keaton offered to collect Layne’s luggage from the car. She handed over the keys of the rental to him, telling that she had a suitcase and backpack in the trunk.
“Be right back,” he told her, his tone sounding as if he were reluctant to leave her.
She had called herself a hot mess and couldn’t imagine why he was sticking around.
Yet there was a quiet air of strength about him that she found herself feeding off of.
Layne dreaded him leaving her alone tonight.
She had enjoyed his company over these last several hours and hoped that she would see him again while she was in the Bay, however long that might be.
She was torn about her future. A part of her wanted to bury her parents.
Put the Bay Breeze up for sale, and travel the world without looking back.
That would have been the old Layne, the successful Dallas professional.
If she wrapped up things in the next week or so, she could go to far-flung places.
Budapest. Tokyo. Iceland, to see the Northern Lights.
Yet the pull of home was proving to be stronger than she had anticipated.
Despite having left a dozen years ago with no intentions of ever living in her hometown again, Layne felt the magic of Driftwood Bay tempting her to stay.
Mila was here, someone who was dearer to her than any sister could be.
And now Keaton had made this appearance in her life.
She would be a fool to entertain the notion of starting up something with this man, yet she had never had such a physical or emotional reaction to anyone of the opposite sex.
Besides, why would he even be interested in her?
She had shown him what a weak, pathetic person she was.
Layne had cried more today in Keaton Maxwell’s presence than she had her entire lifetime put together.
He came through the front door again. “Where would you like these to go?”
She wanted to shrug helplessly, but she needed some of the old Layne’s confidence back.
“Let’s go upstairs,” she said brightly. “No one ever stays here during the holidays. Mom and Dad always took the last two weeks of December for themselves. Hardly anyone comes to the coast this time of year anyway, so it was their self-imposed vacation. Not that they ever traveled anywhere, but at least they didn’t have sheets to wash and breakfasts to make for guests. ”
She led him up the wide staircase, and they stopped at the first room on the left. This had been her room growing up, but her parents long ago had turned it into another guestroom in order to generate more income.
Turning on the light, she gazed across it. Nothing of her remained. No trophies or awards she’d won placed on the dresser. No homecoming mums or posters of rock stars on the walls. It was simply another room she had no connection to.
Layne frowned. A shabby one, at that. The wallpaper looked old and sad. The carpet was worn, even threadbare in several places. The duvet looked as if had seen better days. Knowing this was the newest of the guestrooms to be updated, she dreaded seeing what the others one might look like.
Turning to Keaton, she asked, “How many other guests were staying here when you arrived?”
He answered without hesitation. “Only one. A woman named Lila.”
She smiled at hearing the name, a picture of an older lady coming to mind.
“Lila Carpenter. She and her husband Fred are from Corpus and honeymooned at the Bay Breeze decades ago. They always came back every spring to celebrate their wedding anniversary.” She swallowed, realizing that Keaton hadn’t mentioned Fred.
“I assume if Lila stayed here by herself that Fred is no longer in the picture.”
Keaton nodded. “I talked with her that first morning at breakfast. She did mention that she had lost her husband a few months back and that they had come to Driftwood Bay every year.”
Frowning, Layne asked, “And no one else was here besides Lila?”
“No. Not in the three days in May when I stayed. I did think that was a little surprising, considering the location and time of year.”
She hurried from her former bedroom, turning on lights as she moved down the hall, entering each guestroom.
Every time, Layne found the same thing. Rooms which had a sad air about them.
Paint which hadn’t been freshened in years.
Carpets which needed replacing. Bedding which had seen better days.
At the last guestroom, she turned, finding Keaton had followed her.
“This place is dismal. I’m surprised anyone even stays here anymore.” Her gaze met his. “What did you think of your time here?”
His face flushed with guilt, and Layne told herself to listen objectively and not be upset.
“I thought it was a little quaint. Worn out, to be honest. Your dad was friendly, though. The sheets were old but clean. Your mom cooked a mean breakfast, but she and I didn’t interact much.”
“I need to check the guest registry,” she said, a sense of urgency filling her.
Layne raced from the bedroom and down the hall, noisily clattering down the stairs.
She went behind the registration desk and flipped through the last several pages of the guestbook, noting the dates and how few people had stayed at the Bay Breeze, going back to the previous December.
Then she opened a drawer and pulled the calendar for the next year.
Her dad had always meticulously recorded future bookings in it.
She opened it to January and saw no names listed.
Turned to February. No names again. When she reached March and the time of spring break, she only saw a handful of bookings, a far cry from the full house which had been custom from spring break through late fall.
A line was drawn through each booking in March, and the word CANCELED was written out beside them.
The same held true for the few scattered reservations in April and May, where she saw a dark line drawn through Lila’s name.
No pages after May—those critical summer months when her parents made most of their income—held names.
Nothing but empty pages.
Glancing up, she saw Keaton before her, concern on his face. “What did you find?” he asked.
“A few reservations,” she said dully. “They’ve all been marked canceled, and high season is a total blank.”
She shook her head sadly. “I feel as if I neglected my parents as much as they did the B&B. I hate myself now.”
He stepped behind the registration desk and pulled her to him, his strong arms enveloping her.
Layne wished she could make everything go away.
Her parents’ deaths. Her lack of interest in them and the Bay Breeze.
All the times she called home, bragging about what she had accomplished at work.
Her parents, especially her dad, had been supportive until the end, encouraging her to continue reaching for the stars.
Keaton released her but lightly clasped her elbows with his fingers.
“You’re fragile now. Beaten up by everything that’s happened.
Don’t let what you’re finding now change your outlook on yourself or the relationship you had with your parents.
You’ve mentioned how supportive of you they always were.
That’s what you hold on to, Layne. You had a loving, joyful relationship with them.
They did their job as parents, letting you fly from the nest and spread your wings.
You’ve soared—thanks to them. They taught you well, and you’ve carried those lessons throughout your life.
I won’t have you beat yourself up over something that wasn’t under your control.
They made the decisions they made for themselves together.
You need to pick yourself up and keep making them proud of you. ”
She couldn’t help it. Her hands framed his face and slowly pulled him down to her. She gave him ample time to pull away, but he didn’t.
When their lips met, it was as if lightning struck. No slow period of exploration, only greedy need swept through her.
The electric kiss only increased in intensity as he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. Hot desire flooded her, causing her body to come alive. She kissed him with everything she had, a kiss so intense that she was afraid they would burn hotter than a funeral pyre.
She couldn’t have begun to guess how long the kiss went on until he broke it, and she clung to him, not wanting to part from him. Their gazes met, and she saw heat flickering in his eyes.
He whistled low. “That … was some kiss. I’ve wanted to do that ever since I met you,” he admitted.
“Even that day of the wedding. When you mentioned you had a boyfriend. I felt something between us then.” Keaton hesitated.
“I don’t know if this is going to go away, Layne.
It’s certainly not what you need now. Your life is already complicated enough. ”
“I know I asked for you to be my friend.” She smiled ruefully at him. “I didn’t think I was asking for a friend with benefits. But I don’t want to be alone tonight, Keaton. Would you stay?”
She watched his face for a clue as to how he would respond to such declaration. He remained silent.
Embarrassed at her request, Layne tried to pull away. “Forget it. I’m sorry I asked.”
His clasp tightened on her elbows. “It’s not that I don’t want to stay. I do. But I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I understand how vulnerable you are.”
“I need someone tonight, Keaton. That someone is you,” she said boldly. “I can’t promise anything beyond this one night, but I’m hoping you would like to share it with me.”
His boyish grin melted her heart, and his lips came crashing down on hers. The intensity of the kiss shouldn’t have taken her by surprise—but it did.
Suddenly, they were tearing away one another’s clothes in a frenzy, eager for skin to touch skin.
He swept her from her feet and carried her up the stairs, to her childhood bedroom.
Keaton set her on the bed. His hungry gaze roamed her body, telling her how much he wanted her.
Then he raked his hands through his hair.
“I’m … not prepared for this, Layne.” He kissed her again, and she sensed the frustration in his kiss. “I don’t have a condom with me.”
Need driving her, she kissed him hard. “I have an IUD,” she managed to get out. “We’re good.”
That was all it took. He climbed onto the bed, his body caging hers as he devoured her mouth. Desire poured from her, and her hands stroked the hard muscles of his chest.
His lips dropped to her throat, kissing and nipping at her pulse point, causing her core to throb in a sweet ache.
Slowly, he worked his way down her body, worshiping her breasts with teeth, tongue, and hands. His tongue dragged lower, gliding slowly down her flat belly, causing her abs to dance.
He moved from the bed, standing at its foot, his fingers taking her ankles and pulling her body until her legs hung from the bed.
Then he knelt, his hands slipping beneath her ass and grasping it as his tongue danced along the seam of her sex.
He pushed it inside her, and the orgasm began building as he thrust his tongue in and out of her.
Then it hit her, full force, racing through her.
Her body shuddered violently, wave after wave of pleasure releasing through her.
When it subsided, she felt as if every bone in her body had melted away, and she was merely a lump on the bed. He kissed his way back up her body, finally reaching her mouth. Tasting herself on him was an erotic thrill as he kissed her thoroughly.
He pushed himself from the bed and lifted her from it, setting her on her feet as he turned back the bedding.
Then he picked her up again, placing her on the bed, and crawled in beside her.
Layne lay on her right side, and Keaton draped a leg over hers, placing his arm possessively around her waist, pulling her so that she was flush against him.
She felt his erection pressing against her. Still, he made no effort to enter her.
“We’re … through?” she asked sleepily, her eyes too heavy to remain open any longer.
She felt him kiss her hair. Then he whispered into her ear, “Sleep. You need it.”
Too tired to protest, Layne drifted off into oblivion.