Moondance Beach (23 page)

“Sit down, Frasier,” she said.

Da scrambled to his chair at the opposite end of the table, his eyes wide and hopeful.

Ma said, “We’ll have to see how things go. That’s all I can offer you at the moment.”

“That’s enough,” Da replied.

As always, good food soothed the collective soul of
the Flynns, and within minutes everyone was eating, talking, and laughing. Before too long, Frasier even had Mona giggling as he regaled them all with the story of her first official visit to the island as his girlfriend.

“Do you remember? We walked in on my mother and her friends having a Mermaid Society meeting in the dining room. You got a look at their mermaid costumes for the first time, and I thought you were going to pass out.”

“I feel your pain,” Nat said to Mona.

She just giggled some more. In a pensive voice she said, “You know, it’s astounding what a person can learn to consider normal over time.”

The meal went on without additional drama, although Serena was so busy that Rowan hardly got a bite to eat.

“I’ll take her for a while,” Duncan said. He retrieved his niece and returned to his seat. She blinked at him with those big blue eyes.

Frasier cleared his throat. “Well, Lena, it sure is a pleasure having you with us this evening,” Frasier said. “I’m glad Duncan could persuade you to finally make an appearance.”

She smiled politely. “It’s very nice to be here. It’s been lovely.”

“I imagine my boy’s quite good at persuasion,” Frasier added, laughing.

Lena didn’t answer. Duncan sliced his finger across his throat to get his father to stop talking.

Christina cocked her head. “Why did you do that to your neck, Uncle Duncle?”

Duncan helped clear the table before dessert was served and found that popping in and out of the kitchen provided some eye-opening reconnaissance. Though he’d
heard a hundred times about Lena’s shyness, she seemed to fit right in with Rowan, Annie, and Evelyn, as they put away leftovers and put serving platters in the sink to soak. In fact, Duncan noticed that Evelyn had taken a special liking to Lena, maybe because Annie and Rowan already came packaged as a pair. Women seemed to be much more attuned to that sort of thing than men.

When he saw his sister pull Lena aside and whisper to her, Duncan pretended not to notice. He caught mention of some kind of meeting the next day, but because of Evie and Annie’s laughter, he couldn’t catch the details. A meeting? What kind of meeting? Did women just get together for no reason except that they were female? Whatever it was, Lena nodded and agreed to attend.

While placing coffee cups and saucers around the table a few moments later, a thought hit Duncan so hard he stood straight and stared at nothing. That kitchen business with Lena was far too cozy. It was almost as if the other women had just crowned Lena as Duncan’s “significant other” and had welcomed her into their clique with that understanding. That was wrong. It made too many assumptions and went way over the line.

Duncan enjoyed the bread pudding with salted caramel sauce as much as anyone, but, unfortunately, he had to fight off a vague sense of confinement the rest of the evening. His mind kept spinning—what was happening with his feelings for Lena? What was he doing to himself by spending time with her? What was he doing to
her
?

He wondered if he’d already made an irreparable number of errors.

Clancy had to go back to work, but everyone else roasted marshmallows around the fire. Duncan noticed his father had maneuvered a lawn chair next to Ma, who
pretended not to notice. Ol’ Frasier was still a smooth operator, it seemed.

Duncan sat next to Lena, who had somehow ended up at the bottom of a triple-decker pile. Christina was sprawled out on her lap, and Ondine was sprawled out on Christina’s. That dog was a real piece of work. She had immediately claimed everyone as part of her pack that evening and had traveled from lap to lap, absolutely sure she would be welcomed. She’d been right.

Duncan had been given Serena to hold. It was becoming a pattern. She was obviously sleepy, and her little cheek was pressed to his chest, but she couldn’t manage to conk out. Every once in a while Serena would raise her head and look up, as if checking on him, which made him smile. Granted, Duncan had spent zero time with babies before Serena came on the scene, but he really did think she was something special. It suddenly occurred to him that she probably wouldn’t remember any of this time with him. She’d have no memory of the summer after her uncle was injured and before he went back to active duty.

And how grown-up would this baby girl be the next time Duncan managed to spend more than three days in a row on Bayberry? She’d be ten? Fourteen? He would be a stranger to her. He would probably miss her whole childhood.

The thought of that left a lump of sadness in his chest.

Eventually, the night came to a close. Duncan handed Serena to Rowan and Lena peeled Christina off her lap. Everyone said their good nights, and he drove Lena and Ondine back to Moondance Beach. Duncan knew he was being far too quiet, but he was too distracted for chitchat.

He pulled into Lena’s garage, and though Lena and the dog climbed down from the vehicle, Duncan didn’t move. He just sat there, staring at his hands on the steering wheel, wishing he were anywhere else.

“I’m taking her for a walk. Want to come along?”

This was one of those “interpersonal” moments Duncan sucked at. He had so much boiling over inside him at that moment and no idea how to get it all out without hurting Lena. The only thing he was sure of: he had hurt Lena enough.

“Duncan? Is everything all right?”

Boy, that was a loaded
question.

T
he change in Duncan happened so suddenly and so thoroughly that Lena was blindsided. He’d seemed to be enjoying himself all evening and then, for no obvious reason, he’d shut down. So far, she hadn’t been able to crack him open again.

They walked along the windy beach with Ondine. What a funny little creature she was, completely self-assured and strutting around like a canine princess. She had none of the nervousness that could be associated with an abused or neglected pet, which made Lena quite curious about her origins. Clancy told her no one had any idea where she was from or how she’d come to the island. “She is a woman of mystery,” he’d said.

Mystery or not, Ondine was Lena’s dog now. There was no doubt about it. The fact that she’d been a gift from Duncan made her all the more special.

Lena didn’t want to push him, so she gave Duncan some space as they walked. She thought the subdued night sky was in sync with Duncan’s mood, whatever that might be. She was only just beginning to learn to interpret his subtle signals, and she suspected there was more
going on under his reserved surface. No doubt hiding his emotions was a skill he had perfected as a Navy SEAL, but it had been there when he was a boy, too. It was part of how he was made and part of why Duncan had always posed a challenge to her.

They continued to walk in silence, Lena in no hurry to change that. She wasn’t a fan of talking just to provide noise.

“I have a lot on my mind, Lena. I don’t mean to brood. I hate brooders—I’ve always thought moping around was such a passive-aggressive thing to do.”

She smiled to herself in the dim light of the moon and waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t, so she said, “If you’d ever like to share, I’m here.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m still here.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “But, to be honest, I hate brooding, too.”

He touched her shoulder. When she turned to face him, Lena saw the strangest look in Duncan’s eyes. She couldn’t name the precise disturbance, but a storm was definitely coming. Without a word, he pulled her tight to the front of his body, and she hugged him back—hard. Lena wasn’t sure if he needed her or if he knew she needed him, but it didn’t matter. The hug would prevent him from drifting farther away, at least temporarily.

“I was such a jerk when I was young,” he said. Lena remained still, sensing that he preferred to talk while she was hidden away in his arms. “I threw you away when you were the only real friend I ever had.”

She turned her cheek to his chest.

“I am so sorry, Lena.”

“I’ve already forgiven you, Duncan. A long time ago.”

She heard his heart beat like he was sprinting. She waited patiently.

“I have no intention of staying on Bayberry. I can’t see myself leaving the Navy. It’s not in my plan.”

She pressed hard against him and backed away a step, the wind picking up around them. “I never asked you to.”

“Lena,” Duncan’s face was twisted with confusion. “You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. I’m drawn to you like I’ve never been drawn to a woman in my life, but I think I’m making a horrible mistake. I don’t want a relationship right now.”

She nodded soberly. “What
do
you want?”

“You.” He raised a hand and brushed his fingertips down the side of her face. “I want you. I want to spend time with you. I want to make love to you and laugh with you for as long as we’re here together—but I know in the end it won’t be fair to you.”

She smiled. “How about you let me decide what’s fair? I’m a grown woman.”

He dropped his hand from her face. “I realize that.”

“I am perfectly capable of deciding how much I’m willing to give to a man. I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time.”

Duncan blinked in surprise, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “Of course. I didn’t mean to imply . . . I’m only trying to protect you.”

Lena laughed, though she felt her fists ball up at her sides. “Protect me? From what? From
you
?” She looked away, thinking,
It’s a little late for that
.

She saw Ondine sitting in the sand right at their feet, as if she were eavesdropping. Lena picked her up. “You
know, it’s getting pretty windy. I want to go back to the house.”

The air seemed to escape from Duncan’s body. His brow became deeply creased, and he lowered his head.

“We can continue this conversation inside if you’d like.”

But Duncan didn’t move. Instead, he said, “What was that painting about?” Duncan’s question came out of nowhere, and his voice sounded hollow. He raised his head to look her square in the eye. “You know the one I’m talking about—the one you were working on when I barged in on you. Please give me a truthful answer.”

What?
Lena felt herself go still inside. She would rather he’d seen the charcoal nude than
that
painting! But of course he’d seen it—he didn’t miss anything.

“I only ask because it was so unlike your other work. It was real dark stuff.”

She shook her head and looked out over the dune. “That was never supposed to be seen by anyone, Duncan. I never planned to exhibit it or sell it—it was just for me. Sometimes I paint to work through negative emotion. It’s like keeping a diary, I guess.”

Duncan slid his hand along her upper arm. The feel of his touch was warm and comforting, but at that moment she wasn’t interested in being comforted.

“Is the painting about me? The ambush?”

Lena gasped. She stared at him in the dim moonlight, amazed he’d been able to make the connection. “Why do you think that, Duncan?”

“Easy.” He shrugged. “There were eight bloody bodies in the water and there were eight men in my insertion team. The ocean setting looked bombed out. And the image contained such violence and . . .
grief
.” Duncan
nodded, as if he were just now putting the pieces together for himself. “You may have painted it, Lena, but I lived it, and I know it can’t be a coincidence.”

Her body went rigid.

“And while we’re at it, you knew I was on your beach five nights in a row, waiting for you to come out of the surf, didn’t you?” Duncan pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “I bet you observed me from your studio.”

Lena’s mouth fell open. Duncan was using everything in his arsenal to blame her for his own anger. To find an excuse for it.

“You walked around me that night I fell asleep, didn’t you? You came to make sure I was all right.” He pointed down the beach. “Those were your footprints in the sand, weren’t they?”

Lena nodded slowly. “My goodness, you do have a lot on your mind, Duncan. But you haven’t shared with me the only thing that matters.”

“And what’s that?”

“Why you are so angry.” She adjusted Ondine in her arms. “Are you angry because I care for you as much as I do? Are you pissed off that it caused me pain to hear you were nearly killed? What is it that got under your skin at your mother’s tonight?”

A shadow fell over his face, and Lena glanced up to see the moon completely disappear behind a dark cloud. Duncan had no reply, and though Lena waited for a long moment, she saw nothing but a statue standing in front of her. He may have spoken several languages, but he wasn’t anywhere near fluent in the language of the heart.

“All right,” she whispered. “I’m going in.” Lena headed for the beach steps, figuring that if Duncan wanted to
follow, that would be wonderful. And if he didn’t, she would find a way to make peace with it.

She got halfway up the stairs and heard him call out to her.

“Lena!”

With Ondine in her arms, she turned, the wind whipping her hair into her face.

“This is insane.” He raised his arms in a gesture of frustration. Even in the low light she could see the torment in his face. “We hadn’t said a word to each other since we were kids and then—
boom!
—we’re all up in each other’s lives in a matter of days. And now I’m crazy about you. What the
hell
is going on?”

Lena did not smile, but her heart lifted. Duncan had asked her, and she would answer him. “Come inside.” She held out her hand. “I’ll tell you what I know.”

*   *   *

The last thing he wanted to do when he got inside Lena’s house was
talk
. That girl’s strength had turned him on so much that he was on the verge of making an idiot of himself. Seeing her hold her position on the sand like that, the wind whipping her hair, telling him she didn’t need his protection and could take care of herself—that was the most god-awful sexy thing he’d ever seen in his life. No woman had ever stood up to him like that. It had been the last straw—it had cracked open his heart.

“Lena.” A stunningly beautiful wild woman stood in the kitchen before him. She was barefoot and breathing hard. Her hair was windblown and her dark eyes seared into him. He wanted her with a fierceness that made no sense, that burned so hot it liquefied all his plans, all his strategies, and all his reasoning.

He said nothing more. Instead he walked in to her,
kept her upright, and pressed her against the wall. He devoured her with his mouth and hands, gripping at her dress, sliding his hands up the insides of her hot thighs. This woman was a seductress. A magician. She had power over him that wasn’t natural. And at that moment, Duncan knew he would do whatever she wanted him to do, for however long she wanted him to do it.

Her fingers were in his hair. She pulled him down to her. Lena tore at his shirt, her small fingers insistent and greedy. Just like her mouth. Like her thighs.

Duncan grabbed her under her ass and lifted her from the floor, her legs falling open in a sign of surrender. And that’s when the most remarkable thought entered his brain: this was mutual surrender. He’d never felt anything like it. He was yielding to her as much as she yielded to him, and the power in it was astounding.

He carried Lena through the cavernous downstairs and up the staircase, relieved to see Ondine scurry up the steps ahead of them. Once on the second floor, Ondine peeled off for the studio, and Duncan headed to the bedroom.

Lena was whimpering as she kissed him, hands on his neck, her small but luscious body crushed against his. As they reached the bed, Duncan realized they were both out of control and in complete agreement about it.

He tossed her on the bed and pressed her down into the mattress, hands inside her dress now, caressing her breasts and hard nipples, feeling her hands up inside his shirt, burning his already hot skin.

“This is crazy,” she mumbled, kissing his throat and chest.

“Fuckin’ nuts,” Duncan said, peeling the dress away from her body. He rose above her, supporting his weight
on his hands. Duncan let his gaze travel from her beautiful face to her firm breasts, down her tight belly, to the succulent place she had opened for him between her legs.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.

Just then tears slipped from Lena’s eyes and rolled across her temples to the sheets. Duncan was astounded by the intensity of Lena’s reaction.

“Are you all right, baby?”

She nodded.

“I need to be inside you,” he whispered.

She reached up and touched his mouth with her delicate fingers. He opened his lips, kissing them, licking them, biting them. “Yes,” she whispered. “I have to have you, too.”

He slid into her. She was tight and slick and so warm he worried he would explode before he took her where she needed to go. They locked eyes and hands and moved together in need and passion, twisted, turned, sought out each other in an endless changing sea of sex. His mind drifted, his body and heart flowed into hers. And suddenly, it was like nothing he’d ever known. She was his. She had always been his, and he could not enter her deep enough. This beautiful woman closed her eyes and cried his name.

“Duncan!”

He wanted this for her. He wanted her to know a place without limits, where she could fall apart beneath him and know he was there to catch her. He wanted this beautiful woman to break free, fly so high that her only tether was her love for him and his love for her.

They climaxed together, and the instant was so
beautiful it danced on the edge of pain. He called out her name as he emptied his soul into hers.

“Lena,” he cried. “Lena! My God, I love you so much.”

*   *   *

The ceiling fan whirred, and the cool ocean air slipped in through a bedroom screen. The in-and-out breathing of the ocean soothed them. Lena snuggled up against Duncan’s chest, one leg thrown over his body. Her fingers fiddled with his chest hair.

Duncan stared at the fan—
’round and ’round and ’round
 . . . He’d just told Lena he loved her. It was a miracle. He’d just told a woman he loved her, and he’d meant it. It was a new and terrifying sensation.

Ondine decided the coast was clear and hopped up on Lena’s bed. The dog found a comfortable position and turned her head away, as if their nakedness were too much for her to take.

“Holy moly,” Lena said.

“Baby Jesus on the B train.”

She giggled. “Would you like some water?”