Hot Island Nights (17 page)

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Authors: Sarah Mayberry

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BOOK: Hot Island Nights
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11
I
T TOOK TEN MINUTES
for Elizabeth to drive to Nate’s Albert Park home. It had been four months since Nate had been back. It had been too hard, waking up in a space that held so many memories of Olivia.
But if he hadn’t wanted to come here, he shouldn’t have given Elizabeth a choice.

“Oh, this is like London, with all the grand, la-di-da houses facing the central garden square,” Elizabeth said as she pulled up to the front of his house in St. Vincent Place.

“Mmm. Except our garden is public, not private,” he said.

“You colonials. I don’t know where you get your egalitarian values from.”

She gave him a cheeky look as she got out of the car. When he joined her on the pavement she was staring up at his house.

“Very elegant,” she said with an approving nod. “Did you choose the colors?”

He shook his head and knew she’d guessed that Olivia had.

“Well, she had excellent taste. I love the taupe facade with the glossy black lacework.”

Nate concentrated on finding the right key on his key ring. “She was great at all that sort of stuff. Designing clothes, colors, music. She was always working on something.”

Because he couldn’t delay it any longer, he opened the front gate and walked up the short path to the elaborately tiled porch.

His key slid into the lock and the door opened. He inhaled the smell of beeswax and sunshine and the faintest, lightest hint of raspberry lip gloss. Olivia’s favorite.

Elizabeth followed him inside, her footsteps echoing loudly on the wooden floor.

“This is lovely, too. Are you going to give me a tour?” she asked, glancing up the wide hallway.

There was no expectation in her tone. She was simply asking, giving him the opportunity to say yes or no as suited him. As usual, her cool, matter-of-fact approach gave him the breathing room he needed to adjust.

“It’s not exactly a mansion, but I’ll do my best to get us lost,” he said.

He led her through the airy, light living room and listened as she admired the cream-and-taupe decor, then through to the country-style kitchen with its white cabinets and pine counters and old-fashioned butler’s sink. She ran a hand over the smooth, worn surface of his French provincial dining table, one of Olivia’s must-haves from a local antique dealer, then walked through to the more casual and modern family room with its modular furniture and huge flat-screen TV.

“Your sister had a good eye,” she said. She wandered over to the French doors and looked out at the garden.

He moved to stand beside her. He’d paid the cleaner to come in once a week and air the place out, but the garden had been let go and the flower beds were bristling with weeds. The splash of bright red at the end of the garden drew his eye to the cheerful smiling grill of Olivia’s Mini Cooper parked to one side of the double car port. He’d bought it for her for her seventeenth birthday so she could learn to drive. She’d never had a chance to take it out on her own.

He turned away in time to see Elizabeth pick up a photo frame from the bookshelf. He and Olivia at the beach. She was only fourteen and just showing the promise of the beauty she would one day become.

Elizabeth studied the photograph for a long moment, then she returned it to the bookshelf without saying anything and he led her into the hall and up the stairs.

“Spare bedroom, bathroom, study, my room,” he said, pointing to each doorway as they walked past. He didn’t mention the closed door at the other end of the hall.

Elizabeth stepped into his room and assessed the king-size bed and black-and-white photography on his walls with one sweeping glance. Then she reached for the buttons on her shirt and started to undress.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe there was an implied promise of sex upon arrival,” she said when he simply stood and watched her.

She let her shirt fall down her arms and crossed the room to slide her arms around him. She hugged him tightly for a long beat, then she began undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans.

Despite the weight bearing down on him, he felt himself becoming aroused. He took charge, walking her back toward his bed and pushing her down onto the mattress.

She watched as he stepped out of his jeans. He pushed up her skirt and pulled her panties down, then he slid his fingers into her slick folds and teased her, watching her face all the while. Her eyes grew heavy-lidded and she bit her lip. Her muscles tightened around him when he slid a finger inside her. He kept it there as he used his thumb to stroke her. She lifted her hips and clenched her hands in the quilt cover and moaned low in her throat.

He knew her sounds by now and he gripped his cock in his hand and stroked the slick seam of her sex with it, up and down, up and down.

“Yes, Nate, please,” she pleaded.

He slid inside her in small degrees, reveling in the way she sighed when he finally filled her.

Then there was just the slide of skin on skin and her hands gripping his shoulders and arms and backside as he pumped into her. They came together, shuddering out their pleasure in counterpoint. He rested his forehead on the bed beside her for a long moment afterward, then he turned his head and kissed her.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

She didn’t say a word, but he knew she understood. She always did.

They ordered in for dinner—Thai takeout from the place around the corner. Elizabeth insisted on them sharing a bath afterward and her skin was still damp when they made love for the second time later that night.

She fell asleep afterward. Nate waited until she was breathing deeply before climbing out of bed and walking barefoot to Olivia’s room.

The doorknob was cool in his hand and he hesitated a moment. Did he really want to do this? He closed his eyes for a long beat. Then he twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. He flicked the light on and blinked in the sudden bright.

Everything was as she’d left it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think his sister had simply stepped out for the night. Her iPod lay abandoned on her bedside table, the wires for her earphones dangling to the floor. A pair of jeans were thrown over the end of the bed and her usual clutter covered her dressing table—makeup and books and notes to herself and jewelry. He fingered one of her rings, picked up a book and opened it to where she’d bent the page to mark her spot.

He returned to the bed and sat on it. He knew he should pack up her room, that it was morbid and maybe even unhealthy to leave it this way, but there was so much of her in here: the photos she’d taped to the walls, the quilt she’d made for the bed and the curtains for the window. He didn’t want to pack it away. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.

Grief closed his throat and he reached for her iPod to distract himself. The battery was dead, so he opened the bedside drawer instead. Her diary was in there, along with a jumble of pens and the old slide phone she’d abandoned when the iPhone became the must-have accessory of the year. The dull shine of light on foil caught his eye and he shifted her diary to one side and picked up the small, square packet. A condom.

He ran his thumb over the giveaway circle beneath the foil. Six months ago he would have been unthrilled in the extreme to find this in his sister’s drawer. Like any big brother, he’d hated the idea of her being hurt or taken advantage of or vulnerable.

Now, he hoped like hell that she’d had the pleasure of being skin to skin with someone she cared about before she died. He hoped she’d experienced lust and joy and desire. He hoped—

He closed his hand, crushing the foil packet within his fist. For a long moment he sat, his head bowed. Then he stood and flicked off the light and went back to bed.

N
ATE WAS QUIET IN THE
morning and Elizabeth did her best to lighten his mood. She insisted that he take her to his favorite local breakfast place, then she suggested a walk through the nearby market. By the time they returned to the house and Nate had grabbed some extra clothes from his wardrobe it was midafternoon and he was smiling more readily.
She couldn’t help wondering if that was because she’d done such a great job distracting him or because they were leaving this beautiful, sad house and its ghosts behind.

She kept up a steady stream of chatter as she drove to the island, telling him what she’d bought for her grandparents for Christmas and challenging him to guess what she’d bought for him. She’d been hoping he might reciprocate by talking about his experience at Smartsell the previous day but he didn’t and she reminded herself that Nate had been living in his self-created, hermetically sealed isolation for a long time. When he was ready to share, he would.

They drove over the San Remo bridge just after five. They stopped in town to get groceries, and it was nearly six by the time she turned into their street. A shiny black sports car was parked in the driveway at Nate’s place and she slowed as she approached the house.

“That’s Jarvie’s car, isn’t it?” she asked, recognizing it from Jarvie’s last visit. “Yeah.”

The driver’s door on the sports car opened as she parked at the curb, and Nate’s business partner stood, pulling off his sunglasses and tossing them into the car. He stared through the windshield at Nate, his expression grim.

“What’s going on, Nate?” she asked, but he was already opening his door and getting out.

She didn’t understand why Jarvie was here and why he was looking so thunderous. He and Nate had spent almost the whole day together yesterday, and even though Nate hadn’t spoken about it last night, he’d seemed happy enough with his day’s work. So why was Jarvie looking as if he wanted to rip the head off something?

She scrambled to exit the car and was in time to see Jarvie toss a folder at Nate. Nate was too slow to catch it and the folder hit his chest and bounced off, sending a sheaf of closely typed pages fanning across the front lawn.

“No. Never gonna happen. You got that?” Jarvie said.

Nate shrugged. “If you don’t want it, I’ll offer it to someone else.”

“You can’t do that,” Jarvie said.

“According to my lawyer, I can. If I offer my half of the business to you and you don’t want it, I’m free to sell it to someone who is mutually acceptable to both of us.”

Elizabeth stood to one side, trying to catch up with what was going on. Nate was selling his half of the business? And why was he talking about his lawyers?

“No one is going to be acceptable to me. We started that business together, Nate. You and me.”

“If you look over the offer, it’s more than fair. I know you can raise the funds. In a couple of years, you’ll be debt free and Smartsell will be all yours.”

Nate’s voice and demeanor were very calm and reasonable and she realized that he’d been expecting this. Which was why he hadn’t seemed surprised to see Jarvie waiting for them when they pulled up.

“You didn’t go to Smartsell yesterday,” she guessed. “You went to your lawyer, didn’t you?”

Nate glanced at her. She saw the answer in his eyes.

“What’s wrong with the way things have been going?” Jarvie said. “I know I’ve been bugging you, and I’ll back off if that’s what you want. But selling out is a mistake, Nate. When you’ve had some more time, when you’re ready to come back into the business—”

“That’s never going to happen.”

“Bullshit. I know the accident knocked you around. You’re cut up about Olivia. But you’ll get past it and you’ll want back in and I’m more than happy to wait—”

“You need to listen to what I’m saying, okay? It’s over. Smartsell isn’t fine, it needs more focus. You need to move on, and I’m holding you back. Take the offer, Jarvie.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll sell to someone else.”

Jarvie’s jaw bunched. He took a step toward Nate. Elizabeth tensed, worried things were going to get physical. Jarvie was so wound up and Nate so determined….

“Don’t do this. You don’t need to. Smartsell will wait. We’ll wait as long as it takes.”

“Trust me. In a few days’ time, you’ll realize this is the best option for everyone.”

Nate turned to go but Jarvie grabbed the front of his shirt in both fists.

“You can’t just walk away. Not this time. I won’t let you. This was our dream, man. We freaking well clawed that business up out of nothing. You can’t flush all that away.” Jarvie’s face was stark with anger and grief. “I don’t want to do this without you, man,” he said, his voice catching. “Please, think about what you’re doing.”

Elizabeth pressed her fingertips against her lips. The emotion on Jarvie’s face was so raw, so intimate, she had to look away.

“Let me go,” Nate said. He tried to pull free but Jarvie wouldn’t release him.

“You can’t throw everything away because of one bad thing, Nate. You’ve got a life, a good life. You can’t trash it. You can’t walk away from everything, change everything…”

Jarvie’s voice broke and he lowered his head, his knuckles showing white as he clasped Nate’s shirt. Nate didn’t say anything, simply waited patiently as he stared over Jarvie’s shoulder.

The expression on his face made Elizabeth’s blood run cold. She’d thought he was getting better, slowly but surely. She’d thought yesterday had been a huge step forward. But the bleakness she saw, the resignation…

After a long, tense moment, Jarvie unclenched his hands. Nate hovered for a beat as though some other force held him, then he turned and strode into the street and took the track to the beach.

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