Run to You (12 page)

She was excited. A little bit apprehensive, too, but mostly excited. It had been several years since she'd been to the beach, and a little fun in the sun might be exactly what they all needed right now.

A knock came at the front door, and she rushed to answer it with a smile on her face.

“Hi.” Ethan stood there in khaki cargo shorts and a gray T-shirt, clean-shaven. And while she kind of missed the scruff, this looked good on him, too. She wanted to run her hands over his cheeks, but not with Dixie standing right behind him.

He pulled her in for a quick kiss anyway, which did all kinds of funny things to her stomach. It almost felt like what she imagined it would be like to ride his zip-line, a free-falling sensation that was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

They hadn't been alone together since Monday night—when he'd given her not one but two mind-blowing orgasms. But later tonight, after his grandmother was in bed? Well, she wasn't sure if she could, or even still wanted to, keep her hands to herself.

But that was for later.

Dixie pulled her in for a hug. “I am so glad you're coming with us, Gabby. This weekend is going to be so much fun.”

“I sure hope so,” Gabby said. “Let me just grab my bag.”

“I'll take it for you.” Ethan stepped forward, ever ready to be of assistance.

Gabby slung it quickly over her shoulder, then picked up her purse. “I got it. Thanks.”

His eyebrows rose. “No problem.”

They walked outside together, where Dixie's SUV was parked in her driveway.

“I can't drive it, but it's roomier than his Jeep,” she said. “Would you mind if I sit in the front, at least to start? I tend to get carsick when I ride in the backseat.”

“Not at all.” Gabby grabbed the handle of the back door and pulled it open. “I don't get carsick so I'm happy to ride in the back.”

“Thanks, hon.” Dixie smiled as she climbed into the passenger seat.

Ethan slid into the driver's seat and cranked the engine. “Make yourselves comfortable, ladies. We've got a long drive ahead.”

“How far of a drive is it from Haven?” Gabby asked as she fastened her seatbelt.

“Five and a half hours, give or take,” he answered.

“Probably less the way he drives.” Dixie looked over her shoulder at Gabby and winked.

They made it about an hour out of town before they stopped for lunch at a little diner in the middle of nowhere. The food was good, and the change of scenery was even better. As much as Gabby liked living in Haven, and she liked it a lot, she found that she was developing a taste for visiting new places and trying new things.

Which was weird since, other than college, she'd lived her whole life in Charlotte up until a few months ago. Or maybe not so weird at all. Maybe she was long overdue for some excitement in her life.

Dixie kept the conversation in the car lively for most of the ride. When she dozed off midafternoon, Gabby closed her eyes, too. But instead of sleeping, she found herself daydreaming about the things she and Ethan had done—or rather, the things she'd let him do—on Monday night.

It had really, truly shocked her that he hadn't even tried to have sex with her. She knew he was a gentleman, and he'd proven it time and again in abiding by her no kissing rule. But he was a man with a reputation, a man who claimed his relationships were more about sex than emotions. So once she kissed him, she'd fully expected him to dive right into the main event.

Now she was left with the uncomfortable feeling that she'd misjudged him, underestimated him even. Ethan Hunter was not a player. He was kind, and thoughtful, and considerate.

He kept his relationships casual. No strings, no mess. Could she do the same if she slept with him? It could be a test for herself, enjoying the physical pleasure of sex with a man like Ethan without letting any of her emotional baggage weigh her down.

A test she would likely fail, but the ride might be worth the inevitable crash and burn.

They arrived in Emerald Isle just past seven o'clock. Ethan stopped at the rental office to get the key to their house, then drove down Ocean Drive past a variety of beach houses in every size, shape, and color of the rainbow. He parked behind a little turquoise house on the oceanfront side of the street.

A placard above the door read,
SEASIDE DREAMING
. Gabby adored the names people gave their beach houses, and this one seemed to suit their weekend perfectly.

Dixie was positively glowing. “I'm so glad you were able to get Seaside Dreaming. It makes this weekend even more perfect.” She placed her hand over Ethan's and gave it a squeeze.

Gabby's heart clenched. “You've stayed here before?”

Dixie nodded. “Every summer since he was twelve. A lot of memories in this house.”

Ethan had gone curiously quiet. He cleared his throat as he stepped out of the car, quick to busy himself with their luggage. Dixie looked after him, her eyes misty. And dammit, Gabby was battling tears of her own. This trip was so bittersweet for both of them.

She slipped out of the backseat and walked around to help Ethan get the bags out of the trunk. He handed her duffel bag to her with a dark look. She shrugged with what she hoped was a casual smile. So what if she liked to carry her own bag?

With his and Dixie's bags on his shoulders, Ethan led the way inside. The house was adorable, decorated in cool blues with splashes of vivid aqua and seashell accents everywhere.

“Our room is upstairs,” Ethan said. He sounded harsh, but Gabby suspected he was still a bit choked up from that moment with his grandmother in the car.

God forbid a macho man should actually express what he was feeling.

He followed Dixie into the downstairs bedroom with her bag so Gabby headed up to find their room. The stairs led her to an open loft area with the pull-out couch Ethan had mentioned and a bedroom to the left that looked right out at the ocean with its own private balcony. “Wow,” she whispered as she dropped her bag on the bed and walked to the window.

She'd never stayed at a beach house before. This was different from a hotel. Homier, and more comfortable, and way closer to the beach. She and her friends had usually rented a room at the cheapest motel they could find and hauled their beach bags several blocks to the sand every morning. It had been fun, but this…this was
nice
.

She pushed back the sliding door and stepped onto the balcony. The rhythmic hiss and slap of the ocean waves washed over her, and she smiled as she inhaled the salty sea breeze. The balcony had two white rocking chairs with a little table between them. It looked like the perfect place to sit and read.

She walked to the railing. From here, she could see the raised wooden walkway leading from their patio over the sand dunes to the beach. Beyond it, the ocean roared and crashed against the sand.

So amazing. Perfect.

She dragged herself away from the view and went back inside, finding that she had her own private bathroom, which she used to freshen up. She was about to go downstairs in search of Ethan and Dixie when he appeared in her doorway.

He crossed the room in several big strides, pulled her in close, and kissed her. When they finally came up for air, she was panting for breath, and Ethan's heart pounded beneath her palms.

“I'm glad you're here,” he said.

“Me, too. Is this usually the room you stay in?”

He nodded, his blue eyes dark and glazed with lust. Then he winked. “I've spent many nights in that bed, and just so you know, I usually sleep in the buff. So tonight when you're lying there trying to fall asleep, think of me.”

E
than did not sleep well. Being here at Seaside Dreaming brought back all kinds of memories, warm, happy, carefree memories that didn't mesh at all with their reasons for being here this weekend. Then there was the knowledge that Gabby lay on the other side of the door in the bed that was usually his.

And that knowledge had a predictable—as well as very uncomfortable—effect on his anatomy.

He rose with the sun and went for an early dip in the ocean before the women were up. Ever since his Olympic training days, he'd needed a good, long swim in the morning to get his brain going. The water was cold, crisp, and invigorating. By the time he got back to the house, he felt like a whole new man.

Dixie was in the kitchen making pancakes. The aroma made his mouth water and his stomach grumble. He bent to give her a kiss on the cheek as he walked by, headed for the refrigerator. He filled a glass of water and gulped it down.

“Feels good to be here,” she said.

“Sure does. I'm going to go rinse off in the shower before we eat.” He set his glass on the counter and jogged up the stairs to the loft. Luckily the door to the bedroom was open, which meant Gabby was up. Since Gram assumed they'd shared the bedroom last night, there was no good way to explain why he couldn't go in if the door was closed.

“Gabby?” He poked his head into the bedroom, at first not seeing her. She was on the balcony, dressed in a green tank top and a long, white skirt that billowed in the ocean breeze.

She looked up and smiled. “Hey.”

“Gram's making pancakes. I'm going to take a quick shower.”

“Oh.” Gabby's gaze dropped to his bare chest, then lower. “I didn't realize she was up. I'll go down and help her.”

Ethan grinned. She was totally checking him out. And now he didn't feel guilty that he was already fantasizing about her in a swimsuit. He ducked into the bathroom, stripped, and stepped into the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting around the kitchen table with full plates in front of them, the ocean crashing in the distance. After devouring four of Gram's delicious pancakes, Ethan drained his coffee and leaned back with his hands clasped behind his head, stuffed and satisfied.

“Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready to head to the beach,” Dixie said when they'd all finished eating.

“You go on and get ready,” Ethan said. “I'll clean up from breakfast.”

“I'll help.” Gabby stood and smoothed her hands over the front of her skirt.

He shook his head. “Nah, I got it. I can't cook for shit, but I sure can make myself useful after the meal's over.”

Gram nodded, a proud smile on her face. “And he cooks just fine, too. I made sure he knows how to look after himself and his family.”

He shooed the women out of the kitchen to get ready for the beach and spent the next ten minutes cleaning up their dishes. Gram was right. He could cook the basics. He just didn't enjoy it. Cleaning up, though, that he didn't mind too much. He could let his mind wander while he worked.

This morning it was churning over a thousand ideas for the upcoming summer festival, the Adrenaline Rush, and hopefully Off-the-Grid's opening thereafter. That, and the fact Gabby was upstairs putting on a swimsuit right now.

Would she wear a one-piece or a bikini? God, he hoped it was a bikini. While he loved her long, flowy skirts, he was painfully aware of the fact that he'd never seen her bare legs or the outline of her ass in a pair of tight jeans.

Hopefully today would be the answer to all of his fantasies.

With that thought in mind, he hung the dish towel on the bar in front of the stove and jogged upstairs. Again Gabby had left the door open for him. Thank goodness she was good at this role-playing thing because, thanks to her, Gram had no reason to suspect they weren't sharing the upstairs bedroom.

Gabby stepped out of the bathroom wearing a gauzy white cover-up that fell to her knees, leaving him with only a hint of the swimsuit beneath. But what he could see was purple and definitely a bikini, and he might just lose his mind when he got a good look at it.

She gave him a shy smile. “I'll be downstairs.”

He nodded, his throat too dry to trust himself to speak. When she'd left, he pawed through his bag for a dry pair of trunks, then went into the bathroom to change. He slung a towel over his shoulder and headed downstairs.

Gabby and Dixie were in the living room, chatting as they shoved various items into their beach bags. Meanwhile he had his towel and was good to go.

Gram pointed to a cooler by the door. “I've got beer, water, and snacks all packed.”

“I love you,” he said.

He picked up the cooler, and Gram and Gabby took their bags. Outside, he grabbed Gram's beach chair and umbrella, then led the way down the raised wooden walkway over the dunes to the beach.

Gabby kicked off her flip-flops and sank her toes into the hot sand with a blissful smile. “This is so great.”

“My very favorite place in the whole world,” Gram said.

The beach was largely empty still. It never got crowded here, but this early in the summer season it was even emptier than usual. He picked a nice flat spot and set up the beach umbrella, then put Gram's chair and the cooler beneath it.

Gram wore a black sundress over her suit and settled into the chair happily with her Kindle. “You kids have fun.”

Gabby chose a spot nearby and spread out her beach towel. Ethan laid his next to hers and sat on it, trying not to stare as she lifted the white cover-up over her head.

She was wearing a purple bikini with white trim and some kind of ruffly thing at the top that accentuated her cleavage, and
fuck
. She was breathtaking, all smooth curves and pale skin.

He leaned in close, his voice low. “You look hot.”

She sucked in a breath, then her lips quirked. “So do you.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of sun block, which she started rubbing on her arms and chest. He tried not to watch. He really did. But then she rubbed cream across her stomach, and he was remembering the way he'd touched her the other night, and
hell
.

His attraction to Gabby was completely out of control.

She reached behind her head, awkwardly trying to spread it across her back.

“Let me.” He slid the bottle from her fingers, squirted some cream onto his palm, and put his hands on her skin. Which was definitely a mistake.

Gabby let out a dreamy sigh as he rubbed sun block over her shoulders. He dipped his fingers beneath the strap of her bikini top, savoring the feel of her hot skin beneath his palms, then worked his way slowly down her back. Her head dropped forward as he skimmed his fingers down her sides.

He rubbed the cream into the delicate skin at her lower back, his fingers teasing the edges of her bikini bottom. Gabby sucked in a breath.

“That should do it,” he said, his voice gruff.

She turned and smiled at him, looking adorably flushed. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

She rolled up her cover-up and put it behind her head like a pillow, then lay back on her towel. Not really a sunbather, Ethan walked over to the cooler and pulled out a cold beer, then sat on his towel and tried not to stare at Gabby while he popped it open.

Hell, the beer was not a good enough distraction. He might be swimming the whole weekend because it was the only way to stop fantasizing about Gabby in her purple bikini. He took a long drink from his beer, then put it back in the cooler and jogged down the beach toward the surf.

Gabby watched him go, hoping no one could tell just how hard her heart was pounding. Wearing nothing but low-slung blue board shorts, Ethan was gorgeous. Sexy. Pretty much physical perfection.

She noticed a tattoo on his right shoulder, some kind of tribal symbol. It almost looked like the sun rising over ocean waves. And as he dove into the surf, she was reminded that he was a former Olympic champion. Gabby's best stroke was the doggy paddle. He surfaced and swam out until all she could see was a brown blob where his head broke the surface.

Yep, he was fast. He sliced through the water with powerful strokes, making it look effortless. And sheesh. Was it hot out, or was it just her dirty mind?

Either way, after she'd lain on the towel for a half hour or so, she was roasting. Dixie sat serenely in the shade of her umbrella, reading on her Kindle. Gabby smiled to herself, wondering what smutty book Ethan's grandma was reading this week. She'd gleefully confessed over lunch last week that although she faithfully read one serious book a month for book club, the rest of the time she consumed as many romance novels as she could.

She loved the sexy heroes and happily ever afters.

So did Gabby.

She set her sunglasses on her towel and walked down the beach, flinching as the sand scorched the soles of her feet. Ethan swam toward the shore to meet her.

“You comin' in?” he asked

“Thinking about it.” She stuck her toes in the surf. It still felt awfully cold, and she was not at all a fan of cold water.

“Don't think, just jump.” He splashed her, and she shrieked.

The water felt like ice on her overheated skin. “Not funny.”

“No?” By the glint in his eyes, she knew she was in for it.

“Oh no, don't you even think about it.”

She started to back up, but he was too quick. He swept her into his arms, her body flush against his cool, wet chest, and the next thing she knew, she was underwater.

She spluttered as water went up her nose, shoving at him while sand bit into her knees. She righted herself and surfaced, ready to let him have it, but he was already out of reach, treading water at a safe distance while he laughed himself silly.

“That was not funny.” She tried to look indignant, but a wave slammed into her, nearly knocking her off her feet and totally ruining the moment. She waded out until the water reached her chest, then flopped backward and floated on the calm swells.

It wasn't so cold now that her body had adjusted. In fact, it felt good.

She hadn't been sure about coming to the beach with Ethan and his grandmother, but so far, it was turning out to be great. The house was lovely and so was the beach. And the company, including the man who—as she peeked in his direction—was currently staring at her like he wanted to eat her up.

She sank her feet back to the sandy bottom, hiding her body from his gaze. Not that she minded him looking, not really, but she'd always been self-conscious in a bikini. She'd gone shopping for this one yesterday after realizing in a panic that the only suit she'd brought to Haven was a black one-piece that had seen better days. This one was cute, and not too revealing, just enough to make her feel sexy.

Ethan stalked toward her, stopping close enough that each swell bumped her into him. She put her hands on his shoulders, meaning to push back to a safer distance, but somehow she wound up in his arms, her breasts pressed against his bare chest, her hips against his.

“Killing me,” he said softly with a smile so hot her knees melted.

The waves kept rocking her against him, and his hands tightened on her hips, his blue eyes glazed with lust. He stepped them backward into deeper water, keeping her pressed close against him.

“What are you doing?” she whispered. She kicked off from the bottom to keep her head above water, and with a gentle tug, he settled her against him, her legs wrapped around his hips.

He was hard, and
oh God
, she was halfway to an orgasm just at the feel of him through the fabric of their swimsuits.

“I needed to show you just how fucking sexy you are in that bikini.” His voice was low, rumbling through her, making her shiver in delight. And then his hand slid inside her bikini bottom. She let out an embarrassing squeak, even as pleasure rippled through her.

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers. “We're just a happy couple out here kissing in the waves.”

But his fingers were doing all kinds of naughty things, and she was too far gone to object. She wiggled against him, desperate for release, on fire beneath the cool caress of the water. Ethan swallowed her moans with his kisses as his fingers stroked her right over the edge.

She clenched her arms around him as she came. The orgasm took her hard, and she bit her tongue to keep herself quiet. Ethan groaned low and deep, seemingly aroused by her pleasure. His eyes were heavy with desire, his dick impossibly hard against her. “So fucking sexy,” he whispered, then he kissed her again, crushing her mouth with his.

He tugged her bikini bottom back into place and lifted her free of his hips. The cold water where his hot body had been was a shock, knocking her back to her senses, and
whoa
. She couldn't believe she'd just done that!

She gave a panicked look around them, but there were no other swimmers in sight. No one nearby on the beach. Even Dixie was too far away to have seen anything, and still deeply engrossed in her Kindle.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, looking back at Ethan.

With a wink, he dove into the surf.

She stood there, still humming with satisfaction and completely stupefied that Ethan had gotten her off right here on a public beach. That she'd let him. That it had been one of the hottest things she'd ever experienced.

That he'd now given her
three
amazing orgasms and never once expected her to reciprocate. Wow.

She lifted her feet and swam lazily toward shore, not in any hurry to get out of the water, not until she was sure she didn't look as post-orgasmic as she felt. And then she saw Dixie walking toward her, wearing a skirted black one-piece.

“How's the water?” she asked with a smile.

The summer of blue balls might just be the death of him. Ethan swam until the rest of his body had regained proper blood flow. It was worth it, though. Watching Gabby come was his new favorite pastime. He'd endure all the blue balls he had to if it meant getting to see her come apart in his arms like that again.