No Breaking My Heart (21 page)

“All those rules, and you stayed with her?”

“Bided my time. Big boobs, Alyn,” he emphasized. “That's all a sophomore sees when he stares at a girl.”

“Blinded by breasts. You dated young.”

“I was old for my age. We had group dates until I finally got her alone. Storeroom at the church, during Sunday service. We were surrounded by stacks of hymnals and sacramental wine.”

“Hallelujah.”

He grunted. “Not quite. We kissed, and I managed to feel her up. Major fumble, and my wrist looped in the elastic of her bra strap. Twisted. I was snared.”

Alyn giggled. A commiserating giggle for a horny teenage boy trapped in an awkward situation. “What happened next?”

“We were still getting it on, kissing, when I jerked my hand, only to have her strap tighten. The elastic nearly cut off the circulation in my hand. Mary Theresa was startled, bit down on my tongue. A wire popped on her braces, and stuck in my lip, like a fish hook.”

“You're making this up.”

He touched his finger to the corner of his mouth. “I still have the scar.” No more than a pinprick, yet still visible, if someone looked closely. Alyn did.

“A very bad moment,” Halo continued. “We're banging around in the dark, my hand up her shirt, wire locking our lips, when her dad flips the light switch. Seems we made enough noise during silent prayer to draw him from the pulpit.”

“Last date?”

“Satan escorted me from the church, or so her dad said. Bloody-lipped and sinful.” He shouldered her. “Your turn now.”

“I've nothing to compare to your story.”

“Give me something, anything.”

“You're going to keep after me until I do?”

“Damn straight.”

“Fine.” Her sigh was heavy. “Several years ago, I was on the board of advisors for the Richmond Fine Arts League,” she said. “Literacy, art, drama.”

“Sounds snobby.”

“It wasn't. The board supported community participation in all aspects of the arts. Small theater groups, book clubs, music, art shows. It was fall, and a drama ensemble produced
Fuchsia Duct Tape
, a renowned murder mystery by Fuqua Ducstan.”

“Never heard of him.”

“He's as famous to Broadway as you are to baseball,” she noted. “The play was performed in the Griffin-Hill amphitheater.”

“I know the place. It's close to our stadium. They host a lot of rock concerts.”

“I met Ducstan at a cocktail party.”

“I didn't take you for social.”

“Not as social as you,” she stated. “I get out on occasion. This was a special event. Fuqua and I hit it off. He requested that I introduce him the night of the play. In front of hundreds of people.”

“Sounds like an honor,” said Halo.

“Sorta was, sorta wasn't. I later found out everyone else on the board had declined the honor.”

“Why?”

“Try saying Fuqua Ducstan's
Fuchsia Duct Tape
.”

He did. Slow, then fast. “It's a tongue-twister.”

“Worse when you're nervous.”

“So what did you butcher?”

“I stood on the stage in a long black dress, beneath dimming lights, and presented him as ‘fuck a duck' before God, a packed amphitheater, and the players.”

Halo couldn't help himself, he laughed. A gut-busting laugh. “Oh, babe, priceless.”

Alyn hung her head. “There were a few snorts, several coughs into the hand, but mostly silence. A stiff-necked audience.” She scrunched her nose. “I resigned from the board, and was embarrassed for days.”

“Not so bad.”

“Not so good, either.”

“We've both shown our asses.”

“You more than me in that rooster suit.”

“I've been told I have a great butt.”

“You . . . do.” Her voice was as soft as the breeze.

He glanced at his watch. They'd ridden the Ferris wheel for twenty minutes now. Danny would be getting restless. The sun had shifted, and the beach umbrella no longer protected Martha and Eleanor. He didn't want them sunburned. It was time to collect Quigley and move on. Still, he gave himself an extra minute. He'd yet to kiss his girl. No one rode the Ferris wheel without sneaking a kiss. It was tradition. He'd noticed, with the last turn, that the couple who'd spilled their popcorn had locked lips. Nice.

Unknowingly, the operator stopped the ride once they'd reached the very top. People got off, others got on. His time was now. Halo rolled his hip, and his thigh pinned hers. She tilted her head, met his gaze. There was both reservation and need in her eyes. Damn if he didn't hesitate. “I want to kiss you.” He was asking, not taking. A first for him.

“You have one turn of the wheel.”

He smoothed his mouth over hers. Smiled against her lips. “I'm taking two.”

Ten

“I
sn't that your teammate Halo kissing some woman at the top of the Ferris wheel?” Eden Cates asked Landon Kane as they approached the entrance to the pier.

She drew her glasses down her nose, and squinted skyward. Land tipped back his baseball cap, caught his own glimpse of the couple seated in the uppermost passenger car. He was fairly certain the man was Halo. The woman was shadowed by his wide shoulders. He bet the babe was his fiancée. He'd gamble it was Alyn Jayne.

He was right, he realized, moments later. Ten yards ahead, seated on a bench, were Martha and Danny, along with his contest winner Eleanor Norris. Quigley was stretched at their feet. Eleanor noticed him within a second of his seeing her. She flagged him down.

“Landon and the pretty photographer.” She sounded glad to see them. “What brings you to the pier?”

“You,” he told her.

“And Eden.” Eleanor called it like she saw it. “I want to stop into Old Tyme Portraits before I leave town. Get my picture taken in a vintage swimsuit. That's the style we wore, back in my day.”

“I'm sure you wore it well.”

Eleanor tapped Land with her cane. “Still sweet-talking me, boy. I like it.”

“How are you doing?” he asked the older woman. “Is there anything you need?”

“Sitting pretty, me and Herman. Here with the Jaynes.”

Danny popped off the bench, came to shake Landon's hand. “I ate chili-cheese nachos,” he said. “Two baskets. They're all gone. I didn't save you any.”

“We're good,” Landon assured him. “You didn't know we were coming. Dinner comes later for us. Eden's here to shoot a sunset wedding.” He glanced at his watch. It was closing in on four o'clock. It was February, and the sun dropped at six. They had some time to kill.

He hunkered down to pet Quigley, and Danny knelt, too. Land scratched the pug under the chin. The dog wiggled. “How's your day going?” he asked the boy.

Danny gave him a quick, but thorough rundown of the day's activities, finishing with, “Halo and my sister are doing circles.”

Kissing circles, thought Landon, smiling to himself, as the Ferris wheel turned. His best friend was claiming his fiancée publically. He was a witness.

Eden came to stand beside him. Danny returned to his mother. “Are you surprised?” She kept her voice low. Her camera was strapped around her neck, and she lifted it now, focusing on the riders. She snapped three consecutive shots. “I'm not.”

“Why not?” he questioned.

She shrugged. “Photographer's eye, perhaps. The pictures I developed from the bonfire defined them as a couple. Halo's gaze was hotter than the flames. Alyn eyed him with interest.”

“You're reading a lot into the pictures.”

“It can't be missed. They reflect a future together. It's there for anyone to see.”

Landon rose. Towered over her. His back was to Eleanor and the Jaynes. “We're talking Halo here,” he reminded her.

“He's a person, not just a reputation.”

“Like you know him.”

“You don't have to know someone well to read their features. Alyn and Halo are committed, whether you believe me or not.”

He'd have to see the photos to trust her instincts. Or see them face-to-face, as he was about to now. He saw Halo signal the Ferris wheel operator, and the ride came to an end. Halo climbed out of the car, then offered Alyn his hand. She took it, all natural and easy, as if they'd been holding hands for years.

They'd known each other
eight days.
Landon had difficulty reconciling that fact with the intimacy between them. Or maybe he chose not to. He'd seen initial sparks between them, the night they first arrived in town. How close Alyn stood to Halo. How protective he was of her. The way they glanced and caught each other's eye. Halo would stare until she blushed. Then grin broadly.

Attraction was one thing. Acting on it, another. Halo was raw, rough—all indulgence and gratification. He wasn't known for his longevity with the ladies. He lived for the moment. Alyn looked to the future. She was sweet and shy. With a subtle strength. A woman of substance and permanence. So unlike anyone Halo had ever dated. He hoped neither would get hurt.

Land kept his eye on them as they approached. They were too busy looking at each other to notice him. “Entwined,” Eden whispered over his shoulder. He still had his doubts.

Danny spotted Halo and his sister, and took off running. Drawing their focus off each other and onto him. Alyn gave her brother a big hug. Halo fist bumped him. A sense of family surrounded them.

Eden spoke once more. “Give Halo the benefit of the doubt. The bigger the man, the harder he falls for the right woman.”

Landon would support his best friend, no matter the outcome. He only wished Halo had confided his engagement prior to Media Day. He'd been as blindsided as the next guy.

“Dude,” Halo said when he reached Landon. He nodded to Eden. Then tucked Alyn under his arm, fit her to his side.

They looked comfortable together, which helped Land to relax. “Your mystery woman.” It was more statement than question. He thumped Halo on the back. “Congratulations are in order.”

“Surprised?” Halo asked.

Land shrugged. “Not as much as you might think. When the time's right, it's right.” He leaned toward Alyn, dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Halo's a lucky guy.”

Alyn eyed Eden. “You're fortunate, too.”

He had to agree. Eden was insightful. Unique. Her own woman. She'd moved outside the group. Landon took that moment to leave, as well. But not before he asked, “Eleanor, would you like to have dinner with us?”

She passed. “Full on nachos.”

He trailed Eden down the wide set of steps that led from the pier to the beach. She held an inexplicable appeal. Today round Benjamin Franklin – style wire-rims replaced her rainbow glass frames. The day was humid, and her hair was full-blown frizz. She'd spent time in the sun since he'd last seen her. Her freckles stood out on her sunburned cheeks. She gravitated toward oversized button-downs and leggings. He figured she found them comfortable. Especially for work.

She waited for him on the sand. Smiling up at him as he came down. She had an honest face. The gap in her teeth made her look vulnerable. She was quick to kick off her flip-flops. Hung them over her fingertips. Dug her toes in the sand.

He came down on himself for not being more attentive to her. For allowing Halo's engagement to crowd her out. He'd had ten women approach him since noon, asking for dates. He'd been flattered, but passed. Eden had been on his mind ever since the bonfire. Since she'd eaten the burnt marshmallows he'd roasted. He had to admire a woman who got her fingers, lips, and the tip of her nose all gooey, and could still laugh at herself.

She'd been really nice to Eleanor, too. He liked that. Eden hadn't tried to draw his attention away from the older woman and onto herself. She'd listened intently when Eleanor outlined her future travels. She requested postcards from each locale, which pleased Eleanor greatly. Eleanor and Herman were willing to share their adventures.

Eden hadn't come looking for him today. He'd sought her out, catching her as she'd snapped and printed her last portrait photo, then locked up her shop. He'd invited her to dinner; she'd informed him of her wedding shoot. Scheduled at six, for an hour, no more. Then she'd be free. He decided to tag along. They would dine afterward.

“Who's getting married?” he asked her, as he chose a dry spot on the shoreline and dropped down. His light khakis were the same color as the sand. He bent one leg, rested an arm across his knee. “Family? Friend?”

“No one I know well,” she told him as she walked along the compact sand at the water's edge. “A couple came into my shop last week, and had fun with their portrait shoot behind the bride and groom cutout. They asked if I'd photograph their vows. Nothing fancy. Stills, no video.”

“Size of the wedding party?”

“Just the two of them.” She smiled then. “Their officiant was ordained online overnight, just for the occasion.”

“They're keeping it simple.”

“Marriage is about two people committing to be one,” she said. “Independent spirits can fly equally as high together.”

He liked her philosophy. “The women I've dated made it all about me,” he admitted. “They lost their personality in my popularity.”

“You're in the spotlight much of the time. Do you perform best with eighty thousand fans shouting your name at the ballpark?”

He preferred one woman sighing his name in bed. He'd yet to find the right one. He evaded. “I don't mind the attention, although anonymity would be nice on occasion. I take downtime when I need it. Like tonight—you, me, the twilight. No hurry. No hassles.”

She glanced toward the boardwalk, informed him, “Don't turn around then. We're not alone. There are dozens of people leaning against the railing, eyeing you. All wondering who you're with and what you're doing.”

Landon blew out a breath. He'd hoped to lose his identity to the sunset, become no more than a blur on the beach. Not happening, he realized. They were seeking his autograph. Wanting to talk. While he was involved in another activity. They needed to keep their distance, and not crash the wedding. He had a way to move them on. People seldom interrupted a kiss.

He crooked his finger. “Come here, Eden.”

She kinked her finger back. “You come to me.”

So that was the way of it. He understood her position. She didn't want to appear to be coming on to him. So he went to her. He pushed up, got sand in his leather loafers. Sans socks. He shook out his feet. Some sand remained. Itched his toes.

Eden went still when he neared. She looked up, eyes wide behind her wire-rims. She seemed less self-assured. More shy. “What?” she asked, when he stared intently.

“An experiment.”

“Why?”

Why, indeed? Because he found her interesting, unconventional, and sexy. He kept that to himself, and said instead, “My fans should disperse if I kiss you. They'll give us some privacy.”

She scrunched her nose. Skeptical. “A kiss is your solution?”

He shrugged. There were holes in his theory. He just had the sudden urge to kiss her. “It's worth a try.” He didn't allow her to question him further.

Her small Nikon hung on a strap around her neck, blocking him from getting too close. He gave her space, not wanting to damage the camera. Or push it into her chest, leaving an imprint on her breasts. He angled left, and their bodies touched. Awkwardly, but significantly. Satisfying him.

Sliding his hands into her hair, he cupped her face. The brush of his thumbs at the corner of her lips prepared her for his kiss. He leaned in, lowered his head. Experienced a sudden and unexpected physical jolt. Their kiss was strangely important to him. More than he'd anticipated. He took her mouth slowly, increasing the pressure when she kissed him back.

This was their first kiss, yet the romantic in him sensed both a newness and familiarity between them, as if they were meant to come together. To embrace each other at twilight.

Lingering, closed-mouth kisses were a turn-on, he found. Very soft and sensual, yet somewhat chaste and restrained. There was a different finesse to this kind of foreplay. Heightened sensation. Expectancy. Emerging feelings. Right there on the beach. Landon had never felt anything like it.

Apparently, neither had Eden. She clutched his upper arms, as much to steady herself as to shift closer. Desire shivered through her, and into him. He absorbed her pleasure. Shared his heat. His sex pressed her hip. He was aroused and charged. Fortunately, he had his back to the boardwalk. He avoided a public erection.

He broke their kiss when it was about to get complicated. Their time together was limited. She had a wedding to shoot. He needed to catch his breath, bring himself under control.

She dipped her head, inhaled deeply. Then glanced over his shoulder. “Our kiss cleared the boardwalk.”

Their audience had scattered. Privacy was theirs. For the moment. He waged an inner war. To kiss, or not to kiss her again. Her eyes were bright. Her face flushed. Her lips pouting, plump. Her breathing was uneven. Her breasts soft against his side. His thigh pressed between her legs. He was certain she was wet.

Her sigh whispered her own indecision.

He cleared his throat, came to his own conclusion. He stepped back. Disconnected. His hands itched to touch her again. He clamped them instead. Shifting his focus, he looked out over the Gulf. High tide. Heavy waves advanced on the shoreline. Retreated. He rolled his shoulders. Stretched his arms over his head. Kicked out each leg. Restored circulation to body parts other than his groin.

They'd separated just in time. “Eden, we're here.” A woman's voice drifted to them across the sand. “Are you ready for us?”

Eden collected herself quickly. She motioned the woman, man, and officiant to join her at water's edge. She smiled warmly. “Perfect timing. We have an hour to work around the sunset.” She next introduced everyone, by first names.

Landon met Zoey, Ayre, and their best friend, Wilson, who would preside over the ceremony. There was nothing formal about their nuptials. The bride wore a white tank top and shorts, a woven band of daisies in her hair. The groom was equally casual, wearing a blue T-shirt and ladder-ripped jeans. Wilson slung a tie around his neck, his blue button-down wrinkled and stuffed into a pair of navy walking shorts. All were barefoot.

Land sensed they were meant for each other. Ayre looked at Zoey as if she were the most beautiful woman alive. Zoey's gaze held his, deep and endearing. Her hands trembled, and Ayre brought them to his lips, kissing them reassuringly.