Barefoot in the Sand (37 page)

Lacey cracked up. “All right, and what did she predict?”

“She doesn’t predict, she reads the clues.”

“Zoe.” Lacey was losing patience. “What?”

Zoe leaned very close to whisper. “She said Tessa’s seed will grow in Barefoot Bay.”

“And was this before or after you told her Tessa’s moving here to run the gardens for the resort?”

Zoe just shook her head. “She wasn’t talking about an organic mustard seed, honey.”

“Okay, and David? Pasha’s never even met David.”

“Precisely.” Zoe crossed her arms and smirked. “But the Blue Moon bubbles showed the face of a fox.”

Lacey’s eyes widened. “Are you sure it wasn’t a wolf? Bubble art can be deceptive.”

“Go ahead, make fun of her.”

“Nah, it’s too easy. Did you tell her about David?”

“Of course.”

“Did you tell Tessa?”

She shook her head. “I’m filing it under one of those things we think is better kept secret.”

Lacey took a drink from her almost-empty wineglass. “There’s been a lot of those these past few—”

Headlights swept the driveway and a loud car-door slam pulled her attention and got her to her feet. “Oh,
thank God, I bet that’s Ashley. She went to hang her flyers in town with some friends and told me Meagan’s mother would bring her home, but I was starting to—” She stopped cold at the front door, peering through the glass. “That’s
Clay’s
truck.”

Why oh why did that send entire lightning bolts of happiness through her body? Because she was falling in love with him. She threw open the door, her smile faltering when Ashley climbed out of the passenger side.

“Hey, Mom,” she called as Lacey stepped out on the patio to greet them.

“Hi. How did you two hook up?”

Clay threw a quick look at Ashley and ambled forward, his hands tucked in his jeans pockets. “I ran into Ashley in town, hanging some flyers, so I gave her a lift.”

“Oh, good.” She got a better look at Ashley’s face, which was pale, and her expression was kind of worried. “Where’s Meagan?”

“She, um, didn’t go.”

Clay reached her and Lacey waited for a quick hug or kiss; she’d gotten used to them over the past few weeks. But he seemed as uptight as Ashley.

“What’s going on?”Lacey asked.

“Ashey was…” He gave her daughter another look, obviously opening the conversation for Ashley.

“Mom, I was with those kids you don’t like and they got in trouble, but Clay knew about it and he got me home. I’m sorry.”

Lacey didn’t react, having trained for fourteen years not to be her own accusing mother but longing to know the whole story. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Did you get hurt?”

“Oh, no, not at all. And we did hang the rest of the flyers, so it wasn’t a complete waste of a night.”

Lacey nodded. “Go inside, Ashley. I want to talk to Clay.”

“ ’Kay. G’night, Clay. And thanks a lot.” She rushed up the walk and into the house.

“How bad was it?” she asked.

“Your instincts are right about those kids, but I think the night’s events scared her enough that she won’t hang out with them. You can get the details from her.”

“I will.” Her arms ached to reach out, but for some reason he wasn’t coming to her, holding her, kissing her like always. “You okay?” she asked.

“Lacey, I…” He drew in a deep breath. “I have a lot of work to do before the presentation.”

“I know.”

“So, let me get focused on that. The minute I can, I’ll call you and we’ll start rehearsing.”

Which was so not what she wanted him to say.

But how could she expect him to say anything when she was being just as coy and obtuse about her feelings? It was time to tell him the truth. But not here, not tonight.

“When can I…” Oh, God, she didn’t want to sound desperate. But she was, at least a little. “When will you call?”

“Soon,” he promised. He gave her a little smile, one that kicked her heart around in her chest until it felt a little black-and-blue. “You know I can’t go too long without you.”

Did she know that? “Same here.” She couldn’t help it; she took a step closer and put a hand on his chest, just to feel the strength and warmth of his body. She didn’t
expect to feel his heart hammering every bit as hard as hers.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“I’m not sure of anything anymore, Strawberry.” He gave her a tight smile and took one step back, denying her the chance to feel that beating heart. “But when I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

A
teenager would do this. A bad, out-of-control, irresponsible, consequences-be-damned teenager like Lacey hoped her daughter never would be. But Lacey was doing it anyway.

Tiptoeing out of the house at one-thirty in the morning, her sandals in hand to be sure she could escape in silence, Lacey turned the knob on the back door slowly to avoid the click. She kept one ear cocked in case Ashley or David sprang from the darkness and caught her sneaking out in the middle of the night to go have sex on the beach.

Outside, the still, silent night air, redolent with the hint of salt that permeated the whole island, sent a chill of anticipation over her skin. She pulled out her phone and texted Clay.

Made it—meet you in 5 min!

Okay, maybe the exclamation point was taking the teenager thing too far. But Lacey couldn’t help it. She was
happy
.

He’d finally texted. After almost two days—two long, lonely, empty days—Clay had texted. Okay, it had been after midnight and probably a total booty call, but Lacey didn’t care. She needed to see him. She needed to tell him how she felt and, damn it, she was going to do that before the presentation. No excuses.

Holding the straps of her sandals in one hand, she ran fast enough that the air lifted her hair and the breeze tickled right through the thin cotton sundress she wore with absolutely nothing underneath. Every cell in her body tingled in anticipation.

“Strawberry, you have it bad,” she whispered to herself, holding the nickname close to her heart. She’d never taste a strawberry again in her life without thinking of him. She could certainly tell him
that
tonight, if not some of her more intense thoughts about him.

The thought sent a shiver through her, this time right down to her bare toes as she scampered over the sandy sidewalk. His truck was already parked in a shadowy section of the lot, the lights off. Even in the waning moonlight, she could see his profile as he leaned against the headrest, eyes closed. She slipped up to the passenger’s side and lifted the handle.

“You asleep at the wheel, Clay?”

He looked at her, his eyes clear, his smile a little distant.

“Hey,” he said simply, finally dropping his gaze to the open top buttons of her thin cotton dress, the angle, she was certain, making it clear she had no bra on. He
lingered there for a minute, then reached to bring her all the way into the truck.

“You look…” He hesitated, and her heart hit triple time as she waited for what he would say. “Just like I imagined you.”

“When were you imagining me?”

“Pretty much every minute I’m not with you.” Still holding her hand, he pulled her closer and she fell right into him, leaning over the console, anxious to meet his mouth.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

“Yeah, me, too.” He kissed her gently at first, but instantly reacted to her heat, opening his mouth, holding her head in just the right place, soft lips torturing and tempting and taking ownership of hers.

Already breathless, she broke the kiss. “How’s the work going?”

“Done.” He ran his thumb over her lip, studying it as though the shape of it fascinated him. “We can rehearse the presentation tomorrow and present the next day.”

“Do you love it?” she asked.

“I love…”

Lacey held her breath, one word pounding in her head like a bass drum. You. You.
You
.

“I love a lot of things about it,” he finished, sending a physical jolt of disappointment through her.

“But not everything?” she prodded.

“There are a few things I’d like to change. I’m nervous that we don’t have those properties in hand but we’re presenting as though we do.”

“You thought that was the best way to go.”

He nodded. “I still do. I’m just worried about a curveball being thrown at us.”

“We’ll handle it,” she said, leaning in for another kiss. “Are we going to the beach?” she whispered, meaning, of course, the complete privacy of
their
beach on Barefoot Bay. That was where she wanted to tell him how she felt.

He shook his head. “Let’s stay here.”

More disappointment. But she covered it with a soft laugh. “Could get, um, steamy in this truck.”

“Could.” He fluttered some of her curls in his fingers, then dragged his hand down to the opening of her dress, his jaw slack as he slipped into the bodice and easily palmed her breast.

They both closed their eyes at the impact.

“I never stop wanting that,” she murmured, arching her back so he knew how much she loved his hand on her.

He leaned over and kissed her again, taking his hand out and slipping it under the hem of her dress, up her bare thighs.

“Now I really feel like a teenager instead of the mother of one.”

He didn’t answer, but inched his hand back down, his eyes flickering with an expression she couldn’t read. “Ever think about another one?”

The question threw her so completely she wasn’t entirely sure she understood. “Another baby?”

“Yeah, do you ever think about having another one?”

Where had that come from? A low, slow warmth wound through her, completely different from the heat his hands and mouth had been causing. “Why?”

He shrugged, the gesture more casual than the look in his eye let on. “Just wondering. I mean, you’re…”

“Getting older,” she supplied with a quick laugh. “But not too old.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I was thinking….”

Hope, unexpected and raw and real, clutched her chest. Did
he
want a baby? Had being with her, and being with Ashley, made him realize how wonderful family could be?

She simply couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at her mouth. “If you want to know the truth, yes. I could see myself doing it all again. Maybe better next time.”

“You’re a great mother, Lacey.”

“Better than my own, that much is true, but I could stand for some improvement. And maybe a little help from”—
the right man
—“a good father.”

“David wants another, doesn’t he?”

“He said so, but we don’t really have any reason to discuss it. Who told you that?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “I’m just observant.”

He hadn’t been around David that much, had he? “So what brought that question on?” Did she sound needy? Too bad. Maybe this was the opening she needed to tell him exactly how she felt.

I’m falling in love with you, Clay
. Maybe he would say it first. Right now.

“I’ve been thinking about some things,” he said, looking away toward the beach.

Her heart did a quick double-beat. “What kind of things?”

“Just things.” He still wouldn’t look at her, and she fought the urge to reach out for his chin and turn him, just to say
Look at me, damn it
.

But his attention was on the black horizon of the water. And he was silent just a second or two too long, and all
that happiness and hope started slowly seeping away like her heart was a balloon and his silence the pin that pricked it.

“I think you’ll like the final outcome of the plans,” he finally said.

“The building plans.” Because she had a feeling they were talking about two very different kinds of plans.

“Of course, the Casa Blanca plans.”

She slowly dropped back to her seat as the rest of her air, and hope, slipped away. “I can’t wait to see them. To present them.”