Summer at the Shore (Seashell Bay Book 2) (12 page)

“Morgan, you were doing exactly what you wanted to do.” He almost growled with frustration. “And the same goes for me. You can only hold back a raging tide for so long.”

Okay, it was a dumb cliché, but he was a guy and he didn’t do feelings. Still, he hoped it conveyed what was going on inside him. Sure, maybe it was a simple lack of self-control. Or maybe it was just acknowledging reality.

Finally.

Morgan fussed with her clothes for a moment longer. “Yeah, well, tides come and go whether you want them to or not,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “And they can drag you under and kill you too. So, extending your very apt metaphor, giving in doesn’t sound like such a great idea.”

And now it’s time for a very cold shower
. “So what was that all about, then? What just happened out here?”

She folded her arms across her middle. “Chalk it up to some kind of hormonal hysteria. I guess that’s what can happen if you have sex like, about, never.”

Yeah, that was a bullshit answer if he ever heard one. “That’s it? It was just some crazy hormonal thing?”

She looked away. “You’re the one who keeps talking about chemistry,” she said defensively.

Definitely cold shower time
. “And you’re really sure you don’t want this?”

Morgan flapped an agitated hand. “It’s not a matter of what I want or don’t want, Ryan. Lord knows I wish it was as simple as that.”

That answer didn’t tell him much.

Ryan waited her out, hoping for more. But when the silence stretched out, Morgan refusing to look at him, he finally nodded. “Okay, I’m not going to push. Nothing’s going to happen between us until you’re ready. So what happens from now on is up to you, Morgan.”

Morgan’s shaky legs barely kept her moving ahead, and it wasn’t just from physical exhaustion. Ryan had just completely rocked her world, skewing it right off its axis.

It had been incredibly stupid to offer up that little peck of friendly thanks, even though at the time it seemed natural and right. What she hadn’t counted on was her inability to move away from him and his almost instantaneous, passionate response. He’d seized the moment, that was for damn sure, and her resolve had gone totally AWOL.

As for her body? That had gone boneless when he gripped her in his brawny, protective embrace.

Lost in that moment—okay, several long minutes—of stunning pleasure, Morgan had forgotten where she was or maybe even who she was. Because she wasn’t that girl who threw caution and modesty to the winds, ready to do it up against a tree, only a few dozen yards from a house full of people. Thank goodness she’d been able to snap out of it and make her clumsy exit.

Morgan stopped for a moment when she reached the back porch. She let out a shaky sigh as she fluffed her hair, smoothed her top again, and prayed she looked relatively normal instead of like a sex-starved maniac. How were she and Ryan going to keep working together, living together, when it seemed like every look or fleeting touch set off an explosion?

At least Ryan had told her that everything would be up to her from now on, which gave her some degree of control over the situation, no matter how laughably small. Sex might just be sex for him, but Morgan knew it couldn’t be that way for her. She already cared about Ryan far too much to have a casual fling, content to let the emotional chips fall where they may. There was simply no way she could check her heart at the door before she crawled into Ryan’s bed—the episode under the trees had made that unmistakably clear.

Through the screen door, she could see Sabrina leaning against the island counter, her thin arms crossed tightly over her faded blue Seashell Bay T-shirt. She shot Morgan an angry glare. “Well, it’s about time.”

Morgan opened the door and crossed to the refrigerator, yanked out a carton of orange juice, and poured herself a small glass to keep her blood sugar from crashing. She was in no shape for this discussion.

“Dammit, Morgan, I was really worried,” her sister said. “You shouldn’t be out on the water when it’s nearly dark. It’s too dangerous.”

Morgan drained the juice in one long swallow and turned around as she heard Ryan come in the front door. She put a finger to her lips so Sabrina wouldn’t start an argument while he was in listening range.

“I called you just so you wouldn’t worry,” Morgan said after he was upstairs. “Not that you needed to fret. I wasn’t exactly making a transatlantic crossing.”

Her sister swallowed hard. “I saw what you and Ryan were doing out there, Morgan. It . . . it upset me.”

Crap, crap, crap
.

Morgan had thought it was too dark outside for anyone to make anything out at such a distance. Apparently there had been enough twilight for her eagle-eyed sister.

She managed to feign a casual shrug. “Sweetie, it was just a kiss to say thank you for taking me on a fun little outing in his kayak.”

Sabrina took two steps forward and put her hands on her hips, riveting Morgan with her eyes. “Morgan, I didn’t see everything, but I know what a little thank-you kiss looks like. That sure as hell wasn’t it.”

Morgan’s cheeks burned with heat. Part of her wanted to tell her sister to mind her own damn business. She wouldn’t though. Ryan’s arrival had been a huge upheaval for Sabrina, one she’d barely started to get used to. Now she was probably thinking his presence posed an even greater threat.

“Really, it isn’t something you need to think about,” Morgan said in what she hoped was a normal voice.

“Are you going to have sex with him?” Sabrina snapped. “Because that’s exactly what it looked like to me. Am I going to hear Ryan slipping into your room in a few hours? Because I’ll be lying awake all night thinking about that.”

Sabrina could be brutally blunt. Fortunately, Morgan was used to it. Her sex life was none of Sabrina’s business, but her sister’s poor impulse control sometimes led
to thoughts spilling out unfiltered and hurtful. She always regretted it soon afterward.

“Do you seriously think I’d have sex with my sister listening through the wall?” Morgan said with a teasing grin she hoped would break the tension. “That would hardly be fun for anyone.”

A flush crept up Sabrina’s neck. She pursed her lips and remained silent.

Morgan thought her sister might be too embarrassed to admit she’d gone too far. “Sweetie, please don’t read anything into what you just saw. And please try not to stay awake worrying about it, because I am not going to have sex with Ryan tonight.”

When Morgan closed the gap, holding her arms open for a hug, Sabrina angrily shook her head and took a step backward.

“Not
tonight
,” Sabrina said. “Does that mean you will another night?”

Morgan felt her patience slide away. God, she was so tired of handling everything. Tired of trying to keep her emotions in constant check. “Sabrina, if you want to keep talking about this, fine, we’ll talk. In the meantime, please stop making false assumptions, and stop throwing accusations at me. It’s very unfair.”

Her voice had risen in pitch to the point where Sabrina’s eyes widened. Morgan almost never spoke to her sister in a harsh tone.

Tears started streaming down Sabrina’s pale cheeks. “I’m sorry, Morgan. It’s just that I’m . . . scared. Really scared.”

Disgusted for losing her temper, Morgan pulled her sister into her embrace. This time Sabrina didn’t resist.

Her sister sniffled and dug in close. “I’m scared about . . . about everything.”

Including losing Morgan, so much so that a kayak ride was cause for worry. Throw a hot guy into the mix and disaster loomed.

“I know, darling. I’m a little scared too. We’re both still trying to find ways to cope without Dad. But we’ll get through this together. I promise we will.” She pulled back a bit, making Sabrina look at her. Her sister’s teary, scared face just about tore Morgan’s heart in half.

“Listen to me,” Morgan said. “I will never, ever leave you. And I will do everything I can to save this place.”

“Promise?” Sabrina asked with a big sniff.

“I promise.”

While the future was ridiculously uncertain, Morgan knew that she would never abandon Sabrina. She’d be at her sister’s side for as long as she needed her.

There was nothing else that mattered more, not even Ryan.

W
hile not quite as big a deal as the Blueberry Festival, July Fourth was the second biggest event of the summer season. Relatives and visitors jammed the island for the holiday, filling up the B&B.

At least when Morgan’s father had been alive, that is.

This year, only the Buckles, the Stringers, and the Boylans—the family of longtime local schoolteacher Rosemary Boylan—were staying at Golden Sunset. Three rooms out of six were filled, not counting the one occupied by her hardworking soldier and, for the past few days, studly roofer.

Morgan couldn’t stop thinking about the B&B’s bottom line as she tossed her sports bag onto the passenger seat of her truck. It wasn’t surprising since she’d spent much of the morning going over the books again, racking her brain for some way to conjure up more business. Ryan and Aiden had lifted a huge weight from her chest by providing a new roof at little immediate cost, but a half-empty inn during a prime summer event was another warning sign of calamity on the horizon. She’d pared expenses at the inn to the bone, so there were no more savings to be
found. The obvious solution—the only solution—was to bring in more revenue, and that meant attracting more guests. How to do that remained a mystery.

Her only comfort was the big wedding party coming in a month’s time. Without that, her calculations showed her running out of cash before the end of August, and with no help from the bank in sight, Golden Sunset’s doors would have to close after Labor Day. Morgan and Sabrina would then have to unload the place for whatever pittance they might get. Potential buyers were going to choke when they reviewed the inn’s cratered financial statements.

Ryan had left much earlier to head down front to take part in the traditional July Fourth morning flotilla of lobster boats and pleasure craft that cruised down the channel from Wreckhouse Point to the south end of the island. It was always a colorful, fun parade with flags and banners flying from masts, and boats jammed with people waving at onlookers that lined the town landing and beaches up and down the coast.

Aiden had invited Ryan to ride in
Miss Annie
with Lily, his brother, and a few friends. Morgan had been invited too, as always. In fact, she couldn’t recall missing a flotilla since Lily bought the boat. But yesterday she’d called Lily and begged off, making a lame excuse about working on a presentation she was going to make to another bank. While it was a bald lie, she hadn’t been able to think of a better excuse. Lily had been skeptical but hadn’t pressed. Morgan felt certain that her old pal would cross-examine her when they met up later today though.

The truth, of course, was that she didn’t want to spend the morning in the tight confines of Lily’s lobster boat with Ryan. Not only might that have reinforced everyone’s
impression that something was going on between them, it would have felt awkward and weird after what happened the night they came back from the kayak trip. In fact, every moment of the intervening few days had felt horribly awkward, which wasn’t surprising, given how far things had gotten. She and Ryan had been circling each other warily, trying to act normally around the guests and Sabrina. Suddenly the jokes and quips didn’t come easily, and Morgan found she was acutely conscious of every move she made and every word she spoke to the man she’d known for years. As far as she could tell, he was doing the same thing.

What had been an easy friendship had turned into a tense and uncertain standoff, one fraught with a crazy amount of sexual heat. Every day, Morgan had to convince herself that it made no sense to give in to her ever-present desire to jump into bed with him. It was a battle she knew would go on until the moment he took the boat back to the mainland and to his life as a hired gun.

A life that could never include you
.

As if she needed a reminder.

At the landing, she parked in front of the Rec Center and headed toward the tents and gazebos. A red-and-yellow bounce castle and a portable dunk tank had been set up behind the Rec Center to keep the kids happy. A pair of propane barbecues occupied their usual spot beside the drinks table, and the tantalizing scent of sizzling burgers wafted her way.

She was wearing a yellow tank top and navy shorts, both of which had seen better days. They were only for her scheduled duty time in the dunk tank anyway. Every summer, both on July Fourth and during the Blueberry
Festival, she volunteered to be soaked as part of a fund-raiser for the town’s small but thriving library. Once her shift was finished, she’d change into jeans and a T-shirt for the tug-of-war competition she’d organized with Brett Clayton.

“Hey, Morgan! Over here!”

She glanced to her left and saw Aiden waving to her. With him were Bram and Ryan, the three guys towering above the rest of the crowd. Though she could barely make him out through the throng, it looked like Sean Flynn was the fourth member of their little circle. The last thing she wanted was a cozy little chat with a group that included Ryan, but she couldn’t be rude.

Aiden slung an arm around her shoulder and gave her a friendly squeeze. “How’s my second favorite island girl today?”

Morgan gave him a little dig in the ribs. “If you value your man parts, you’d better not let Miss Annie hear that, my friend.”

He grinned. “Nah, Miss Annie’s in a class by herself, right? I wouldn’t dare compare her to anybody else.”

“Class by herself? Jesus, you got that right,” Aiden’s father said in a raspy voice that reflected years of sucking back cigarette smoke and alcohol. “They broke the mold when they made that old bat, thank the good Lord. She rags my ass something fierce.”

Despite his crusty attitude, Sean’s smile conveyed the affection that had grown between him and Miss Annie now that their decades-old feud had finally been laid to rest. It made life on the island better for everyone.

Ryan lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

“She took Dad in last fall after he got out of rehab,”
Aiden explained, “and made sure the grumpy old coot didn’t stray off course.”

“I’m standing right next to you, son,” Sean said drily.

Ryan smiled. “Yeah, I heard you two got real close, Mr. Flynn. It’s great to hear.”

“Annie’s all right,” Sean said gruffly. “She can be a real ballbuster when she wants to be though.” He tilted a can of Coke to his lips and slurped a mouthful.

While most of the partygoers had bottles or cans of beer in their hands, all four of the men were drinking Coke. Morgan knew Aiden rarely drank alcohol around his father or brother, and Ryan had apparently followed suit. He and Aiden were such good guys that it made her heart hurt.

“Where’s Lily?” she asked.

“She was a little concerned about how her diesel was running during the flotilla, so she wanted to stay back and take a look at it,” Aiden said. “She should be along soon.”

“Why didn’t
you
stay and help your bride-to-be, Aiden Flynn?”

Aiden’s eyes bugged out. “Are you kidding? You know Lily won’t let me within a country mile of that engine.”

“Especially after he wrecked Dad’s last summer,” Bram piped up.

“Don’t remind me,” Sean groaned. “I’m still not over it.”

“That was Roy’s fault and everybody knows it,” Aiden protested.

Bram shook his head. “Roy wasn’t driving the boat, man. You were.”

“And don’t forget how hot you were for Roy to juice my diesel,” Sean said. “So you could beat that little Doyle of yours.”

“I just hope you dudes are as pumped up about the tug-of-war. I’m not about to lose to the firefighters again this year.” Morgan gave Ryan a fake scowl. “And I’m looking at you when I say that, Butler.”

“You’re coming to the social tonight, aren’t you?” Aiden asked as he and Ryan headed toward the tug-of-war pit.

It had been years since Ryan had gone to the St. Anne’s July Fourth social. His visits home were always later in the summer.

“Don’t think so,” Ryan said.

“Why the hell not?” Aiden asked. “What else is there to do on this rock? The Pot’s going to be dead.”

Though Morgan hadn’t said anything about going, Ryan figured she’d be there. She liked dancing and hanging out with her pals. “It’s been a little weird between Morgan and me for the past few days. It’s probably better for me to give it a miss.”

Aiden gave him a questioning look. “She made herself scarce most of the time we worked on the roof. What was up with that anyway?”

Ryan didn’t want to talk about it.

“Come on, man,” Aiden said, elbowing him. “Lily said something cryptic about a kayak trip you guys took to Peaks.”

Suddenly, he found himself wanting to talk to Aiden about it instead of keeping it bottled up. “I kind of made a move on her when we got back from Peaks.”

Aiden’s dark brows lifted. “Oh-kay, then. What kind of move are we talking about here?”

“A kiss.” He wasn’t about to elaborate on the details.

“Just a kiss?”

“Okay, a fucking hot kiss,” Ryan admitted.
Like five-alarm-blaze hot, along with pretty spectacular groping
.

“So you two played suck-face for a while and then it all went to shit? Have I got that about right?”

“More or less. She froze up when I, uh . . . suggested that we might continue what we were doing in a more private place.”

“Like somebody’s bedroom.”

Ryan shrugged.

Aiden slung an arm around Ryan’s shoulders and spoke in tones so low there was no chance of anyone else hearing. “Look, I can’t say I’m surprised. From what I know of her and from what Lily’s told me, Morgan’s not going to get involved with a guy unless she’s convinced it’ll go somewhere. Yeah, she’s hot for you—hell, everybody on the island knows that by now. But you’re just passing through, man. You can’t blame her if she wants to protect herself.”

Ryan figured his friend had it right—Morgan Merrifield was that kind of woman. And he admired her for it. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from wanting to get her in bed. He now felt like Morgan had a grip on him in a way no other woman ever had—not even Callie Strohmayer, the girl he’d once figured was
the one
.

But unless he and Morgan could take the next step and see where the fire between them might lead, neither of them would ever know what might or might not have been possible. Morgan just didn’t trust him alone with her. And based on what happened behind the B&B, she probably shouldn’t.

“I don’t blame her at all,” he said. “I told her the other night that it was up to her if anything was going to happen
between us.” He gave a little snort. “I guess I’ll just keep taking cold showers.”

But in truth, Ryan wasn’t sure that he could keep his distance from Morgan, pretending that he didn’t want her like crazy.

Aiden pulled his arm away and studied him. “Dude, it’s not like Morgan’s the only single woman on the island,” he said. “Or you could check out some of the bars in Portland if you’re looking for that kind of action. The city’s crawling with tourists looking for a good time.”

“I’ll pass,” Ryan said. “I didn’t come here to trawl bars. I came to think and relax.”

“How’s that going anyway?” Aiden said. “You’re not exactly hot to go back to Double Shield, are you? That’s the vibe I’ve been getting while we worked.”

That was the million-dollar question. Ryan kept telling himself he had a great life, traveling all over the world and raking in a hell of a lot more money than he’d ever earned before. And yet in the middle of the night, or out on the ocean in his kayak, doubts always returned. “I’m kind of lukewarm about it, to be honest. But it’s not like I’ve got a lot of options.”

“Sometimes the options aren’t obvious. Hell, I never thought I’d end up coaching a university baseball team. And if you’d told me a year ago that I’d be in the middle of developing a frigging ecoresort, I’d have laughed my ass off.”

Ryan shrugged. “That’s what Morgan said. Look, I’m glad for you, man, but the kind of thing that happened to you isn’t going to happen to me.”

Aiden gave him a mocking smile. “What, now you can predict the future too?”

“Shut up, asshole.”

“Just come to the damn social, dude, and stop being an idiot,” his friend said, punching him in the shoulder.

Morgan peered down at the muddy pit. Every year, the tug-of-war challenge was held on a patch of scrubby grass behind the Rec Center. The “moat,” as the locals called the pit in tug-of-war lingo, was really just a small rectangle of dirt that had been thoroughly watered with a garden hose and was now a gooey mess.

Though she was trying to focus on the challenge match that she organized every year, she could barely think of anything other than Ryan.

A big crowd had gathered eight or ten deep behind the Rec Center, forming an oval around the pit. Most of the spectators had pledged money to sponsor one or the other team, and the proceeds from the competition would go, as always, to a small women’s shelter in Portland. Morgan had started up the challenge years ago with Lily’s help and had been honored with a plaque from the shelter last year for her efforts. It was one of her favorite events of the year, both for the great cause and because it was fun.

She glanced up when Micah tapped her on the shoulder. “Any replacements from the lists you two exchanged yesterday?” he asked her and Brett Clayton. Micah was serving as this year’s ref.

Every year, Brett’s posse of firefighters and EMTs defeated any team the other islanders threw at them. Morgan had a hunch things could be different this year. She’d organized the “town team” for the past four events and had never won, but now she figured her team had a decent chance to go over the top. Why wouldn’t they,
now that they’d added studly Ryan Butler to their ranks? She’d asked Aiden to be the team’s anchor, but he’d tagged Ryan as the better, stronger choice, without a handicap like Aiden’s bum knee.

Brett shook his head at Micah’s question. “Everybody’s here. Jessie Jameson, Laura Vickers, Connie Taylor, and Chrissie Laughlin are the women. Josh Bryson, Brendan Porter, Frank Laughlin, and myself are the men. Boone Cleary’s our coach, same as always.”

The women were all volunteer firefighters, EMTs, or the wives or girlfriends of firefighters. Each team had to comprise an equal number of men and women.