Chapter 2
2
Love Beach looked exactly the same as when he’d left ten years ago, but everything felt different. Maybe because no one recognized him as the town’s most notorious bad boy. He’d run into some familiar faces though.
Holden Parshman, the high school English teacher, was ahead of him in line at Caffeine Beach, the boardwalk coffee shop. He nodded casually at Kobe as he made his way to a small table to enjoy his decaf with two sugars and almond milk.
Ted Finnely, once the star quarterback, now owned the hardware store. Thirty pounds heavier with a receding hairline, Ted had given him a second glance but didn’t make the connection. His wife, Janet Finnely nee Greenberg, looked like her cheerleading uniform still fit, but the stare she gave Kobe was pure lust. Right there in front of her husband as he restocked the WD-40, sweat gleaming on the balding portion of his pate.
The most unsettling encounter was Odette Bell. She’d been part of Willa Leigh Osborn and Jezzy Brant’s circle of friends in high school; now she ran the Love Beach Animal Shelter. Kobe didn’t know if she recognized his face or if it was his name when he filled out the paperwork to surrender the tiny orange tabby he’s rescued from a rainspout.
“Kobe Lewis?” Odette’d mused, one thick brow tilted in curiosity. “Weren’t you class of?—”
“Yes.” He avoided memories—except a precious few—of his time in the small coastal town, preferring to keep that part of his life locked away in a cement bunker secured by an old-fashioned iron padlock.
“What brings you back to Love Beach?” She handed the young cat to a vet tech in blue scrubs who passed through a set of double doors leading to the back of the building.
“Business.” He knew how the rumor mill worked and wanted as little information making its way around the community. The deal he was considering would make him a millionaire, but it would cost Love Beach plenty.
“Are you just visiting or moving back?” Her tone was conversational, but the glint in her green eyes conveyed keen interest in his response.
“I’ll be leaving as soon as I tie up a few loose ends.”
“If we don’t find a microchip, are you interested in adopting her?” Odette must have realized she wasn’t going to get more out of him because she went back to filling out paperwork for the cat.
He wanted to say no, but for some reason he couldn’t. He didn’t need another cat—there were plenty of barn cats at the ranch in Montana—but the memory of those big green eyes staring up at him when he freed the animal from the broken downspout wouldn’t let go. Once upon a time, a young woman had looked at him the same way—eyes filled with wonder and adoration and appreciation.
“If no one claims her—” he started.
“Great. Come back about four-thirty.” Odette’s smile faltered. “She’s probably a stray. Your dad’s old place is pretty far outside of town. I doubt one of our house cats would have made it that distance without getting hit by a car or picked off by a hawk. The vet will check her out and recommend appropriate treatment such as vaccinations and sterilization. Any chance you’ll take two? Or maybe one of our dogs?”
“The cat is already more than I planned on.”
“Darn.” She turned the document and handed him a pen so he could scrawl a signature along the bottom.
“Too many unwanted animals?” he asked.
“No, we’re only at half occupancy.” Odette slipped the paper into a green folder. “The property owner we rent from wants to sell. We haven’t been able to locate another site within our budget, which means closing up shop. Hopefully, it will be temporary, but we’re trying to find homes or fosters for the dogs and cats already here. We’re the only no-kill shelter in the area, so it’s important we continue operating.”
“Sorry I can’t be more help.” He wheeled around to leave, Odette’s gaze burning a hole between his shoulder blades.
Climbing into the cab of his Dodge RAM 3500, Kobe cranked the air conditioning and considered his next move. The return to South Carolina was an unexpected opportunity to put some closure on an ugly part of his life. Closure that never came, not even when his old man killed himself in a drunk driving accident. His history in Love Beach was nothing but black moments and low points brought on by his father’s sins and a small town’s intolerance. Even the one bright spot, his night with Willa Leigh Osborn, was overshadowed by narrow-minded judgement.
Memories of that night had played on repeat during the four-day drive from Augusta, Montana, to Love Beach, the wide, open spaces passing by in a blur of golden fields and blue skies.
Ten years ago…
Willa Leigh’s curves molded to the hard angles of his eighteen-year-old body as if heaven intended her to be a soft, sweet haven from the rough reality of his existence. The ballad provided an excuse to finally hold her in his arms, but it wasn’t enough. Besides, Old Man Wood was hollering, and it would be seconds before some of the male teachers pulled them apart and escorted Kobe from the gymnasium.
“Wanna get out of here?” he whispered, inhaling the scent of hairspray, baby powder, and a flowery perfume.
Willa Leigh nodded, lacing her fingers with his.
Kobe tugged her toward the gym’s front doors and out into the warm summer night, ignoring the warning blaring in his skull that leaving together would cause trouble for the nicest girl at Love Beach High. He didn’t care; he couldn’t care. He needed her too much.
“My bike is parked in the back of the lot.”
She trotted obediently alongside him, breath coming in little pants.
“I can’t ride a motorcycle in my formal,” she huffed. “My dad’s Buick is over there.”
She took the lead, tugging him to the dark blue boat of a car angled into an end spot. He slid into the passenger side while she reached under the floor mat, dangled a set of keys that sparkled like precious metal in the yellow glow of the parking lot lights, and cranked the engine.
“Seatbelt,” she said, chortling as she allowed the belt to snap back without buckling it into place. “Oh, that’s right. I’m risking it all tonight. We ride without protection.”
Oh, shit. Her comment reminded Kobe he didn’t have a condom. Of all the times to forget his wallet. Then he berated himself for assuming their getaway was going to lead to anything more than…
He didn’t let himself think it. Even though he’d jacked off countless times fantasizing about Willa Leigh’s plump breasts and generous hips and pink mouth didn’t mean he was willing to risk her reputation for a one-night stand.
She steered the car with a white-knuckled grip that made him wonder if she was afraid or already regretting her decision. Then she gave him a quick wide-eyed look and tentative smile before returning her attention to the asphalt road unwinding in the headlight beams.
Jamming his fingers through his hair, he leaned against the headrest. What was he thinking, making a scene at prom and then running off with Willa Leigh?
Truth? He wasn’t thinking. He was hurting.
Another screaming match with his father that escalated into fists and punches. More accusations that he’d stolen money from Gene Lewis’ wallet that eventually devolved into sneers and insults.
“You’re a loser just like your mother.”
“Fuckin’ dreamer, thinkin’ you got the smarts for a university education.”
And worst of all, learning his father had found his secret stash of grimy fives and tens and twenties. Money he earned selling weed to students at the College of Charleston because no one in Love Beach would hire him.
He’d barely gotten through high school, but once he had that diploma in his hand, the plan was to head out of town and never look back. Find somewhere new to start over where no one knew him.
He wouldn’t get far on a high school diploma and half a tank of gas, but no way in hell was he spending one more night under his father’s roof.
One night with Willa Leigh? That was enough to keep him around just a little bit longer.
The car rolled to a stop, plunging into darkness when she cut the engine. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the moonlight then he recognized where she’d brought them.
Clements Pond.
Everyone came out here to fool around, but they were alone. Most of the kids planning to get lucky on prom night splurged on a room at the Red Roof Inn near the interstate.
“Wanna talk for a while?” He propped the heavy car door open, waiting for her agreement.
Willa Leigh looked longing at the back seat before nodding.
God, she was so innocent, Kobe thought. She didn’t have a clue what kind of signals she was putting out, and he knew most, if not all, of the guys would take advantage of her naivete. He didn’t play sports or hang out with the jocks or serve on the student council, but he heard enough talk in the john to know Willy Osborn wasn’t considered girlfriend material but no one would pass up a chance at her big tits and thick ass. Their words, not his.
They met at the front of the car, and Kobe put his hands around her waist to lift her up onto the hood. Her legs dangled in front of the grill, and she kicked her shoes off before tucking her legs under the skirt of her dress. He sat a foot or so away, content—for the moment—to just be with her.
That’s what he liked most about Willa Leigh. She exuded a serene stillness when the rest of life was chaotic. She was watchful and present in the moment, not in a suspicious or judgmental way, but with insight and clarity. That’s what gave him the courage to approach her in the middle of the dance floor—knowing that while every other guy wore a tux, his worn jeans and leather jacket wouldn’t matter to her.
“You’re leaving.” The faintest hit of a southern accent softened and elongated her words.
“Yeah.” He wished he could admit he wanted to stay, but he had nothing to offer a sweet girl like her.
“Where are you going?”
“Away.” North, south, east, west. It didn’t matter where; just that it wasn’t here.
“You’re lucky.”
He tilted his head to look at her. Starlight glimmered in her eyes, and he wanted to fall into her forever.
“I’m stuck here.” She shrugged, the sheer beaded overlay of her dress slipping off one shoulder. “My foreseeable future is all mapped out except I’m not really in the driver’s seat. It’s probably what I would have done anyway—go to college and then return to Love Beach to find a job, eventually get married and have kids.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Sure. I guess.” She pulled her knees into her chest, making herself small. “Everyone’s super supportive. A few of the teachers wrote letters of recommendation, and the seniors at Beach Breeze pooled money to help with tuition. My parents and grandma are so relieved that at least one of their kids turned out okay.”
He knew her older brother had gotten into trouble with the police, but he’d assumed her parents—unlike his dad—were there to give him a second chance. Instead, they’d shifted all their expectations onto Willa Leigh.
“You always seem so chill. Like everything’s good. Nothing seems to bother you.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and fixed his gaze on a tree that had been split by lightning years ago and was now just a broken stump.
“My friend Jezzy says I’m like still waters. Something about them being deep. You don’t see the current on the surface, but underneath…” Her laugh was a whoosh of pain and self-awareness. “It’s easy for people to overlook…stillness.”
“I see you, Willa Leigh.” He slid off the hood to stand in front of her, fingers circling her ankles and pulling her legs free so they formed a welcoming vee. “You are helpful and compassionate. You step back so others can shine in the spotlight, and you make space for those excluded by people who are afraid they won’t get theirs if they share a little bit. You take care of old people and your family and Jezzy and the rest of your friends. But”—he cupped her face in his palms—"who’s taking care of you?”
“Kobe Lewis?” Her fingers, icy cold, covered his. “Just for tonight, will you be there for me? Be with me?”
“Have you had sex? Fooled around at all?” The air in his chest turned to concrete when she shook her head, eyes cast down.
“Not even a good-night kiss.”
Her whispered confession set off a cluster of emotions that spiraled in all directions like fireworks on the Fourth of July. His heart and cock swelled as his body battled competing urges. Part wanted to comfort her; the other wanted to fuck her senseless.
Willa Leigh deserved to be worshipped, not desecrated. As much as he wanted to shove his jeans down to his knees and pull her to the edge of the hood so he could plunge into her heat, he didn’t want her first time to be pure lust.
But an eighteen-year-old guy only had so much control…
“Can I touch you?”
She nodded.
“Everywhere?”
“Yes.” Her voice hitched. “Please.”
He found the edge of the beaded overlay and pulled it over her head. It caught on one of the pins holding her hair in place, so she wiggled the hairpin free and tossed it away with four or five others. Kobe tunneled his fingers through the silky strands, winding the length around his hand so a gentle tug caused her to arch toward him. Pressing kisses along the elegant column of her neck, he continued along her collarbone to the bodice of her dress.
Fingers skimming the fabric, he grasped the zipper in back, each snick bringing him closer to baring her breasts. She straightened, tremors wracking her body, as he pushed away the satin. Pausing just long enough to admire her curves and swells, he bent to flick his tongue over one pink tip.
“Ahhhhh. Ohhhhhhh!” Her amazed sigh dropped into a throaty purr.
She tasted like cotton candy and lemonade, and Kobe knew they were flavors he’d crave the rest of his life. The way she wiggled and moaned, completely abandoning herself to the pleasure, pulled him deeper under her spell. He forgot his own needs, every cell in his body focused on showing her the magic of touch between a man and a woman.
Especially when it was the right man with the right woman.
The only woman.
Some corner of his mind committed to self-preservation reminded Kobe he was leaving. Tomorrow. He’d wanted Willa Leigh for so long, but this was their only chance to be together.
Dragging his teeth over her puckered nipple, releasing the damp skin so the night air caressed it, he scooped her into his arms. Somehow he got the car door open and laid her on the Buick’s wide backseat.
The image of Willa Leigh pulling off her panties and tossing them aside burned itself into his brain, along with the crystal-clear notes of her spontaneous giggles when the scrap of pink lace caught on the rearview mirror.
He fell the rest of the way in love with her and used his hands and mouth and cock to show her.
The last words he said to Willa Leigh Osborn weren’t “I love you,” but “Goodbye.”