The Seacroft: a love story (Paines Creek Beach Book 2) (5 page)

Chapter 7

The village had awoken since she’d ridden to Shady Pines earlier, and now Vivian had to be more careful on the sidewalks and road. Cars whizzed by her, filled with tourists on their way to the beaches. Eager kids and flustered parents filled the minivans and SUVs that streamed past her.

When she approached the Brewster Store, she decided on a whim to turn in. She hadn’t been here in weeks and it was her favorite shop in town. Like a nineteenth century general store, the place offered penny candy, fresh baked goods, newspapers, toys, kitchen tools, tee shirts, and so much more. She loved walking up the creaking wooden staircase to the second floor of the shop to admire the artsy wares, too.

Forty-five minutes passed, and with a few treasures in hand, she approached the checkout counter.

“Vivian?”

The voice startled her, and she nearly dropped her hand-woven doily and the aromatic cinnamon candle she’d found upstairs. “Deidre.”

There she was. The girl she’d come to think of as “our housemaid,” stared back at her from behind the cash register.

“How’d you get here?” Deidre asked, as if shocked to see her.

Vivian blinked. “My bike.”

Deidre shared a half smile. “Oh. That’s right. I forgot.”

Vivian wondered how much more wooden their conversation could be. What she wanted to ask the girl was why she’d been fired. But she wasn’t sure Deidre would tell her.

“So,” Deidre said. “You’re probably wondering why I left The Seacroft.”

“Um. Yes. I guess I am.” Vivian looked behind her, but no one else was in line at the moment. “I was shocked to find out you’d gone.”

“Well, it wasn’t like the queen bitch decided to give me much time for goodbyes. She handed me my paycheck the minute I walked in. She’d obviously planned to dump me.” Deidre’s eyes watered. “You never know what to expect with quirky, rich women like her.”

Vivian tried to process the news. “But, why?”

“Why is she quirky? Or why did she fire me?”

“The latter,” Viv said as they moved down to the side of the store, away from the people who’d started to queue at the registers. Two clerks helped customers, so Deidre wouldn’t be missed.

“She told me my time was up. And that I asked too many questions.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s crazy.”

“I know, right?”

Viv shifted onto her other foot, still clutching her items. “So. What did you ask her about? What made her so mad?”

Deidre glanced toward the customers and lowered her voice. “It was about Mr. Polansky.”

“What about him? She says he’s coming home soon.”

“She
always
says that,” Deidre said with a frown. “But he never does.”

“What?”

“He never comes home,” she repeated. “
Never.
I asked about his mail. He keeps getting mail, and I kept piling it up in the box she gave me for him.”

“Sure. I’ve seen that.”

“Problem is, I suggested she do a forwarding address for him. I asked where he was, specifically.” She turned to look behind her. “She didn’t answer me. She went all wishy-washy, then told me he moved around too much to forward his mail.”

“I asked—again—where he was today. It was an innocent question, you know. I was just curious if he were in Rome or Cairo or Tokyo.”

“Sure. That’s a normal thing to ask.” Vivian leaned forward. “Then what happened?”

“She went all red in the face. Practically growled at me like some psycho tigress or something. She turned and ran upstairs. I didn’t see her ‘til the next morning, and that’s when she canned me.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. And you wanna know the really weird part?”

“Sure,” Vivian whispered.

“All the old timers who work here,” she gestured toward a few of the workers in the back, “say they haven’t seen her husband in years.”

“How many years?”

“Like ten years or more.”

Vivian’s brow furrowed. “Well, that’s really weird. Uvi said he came home over Christmas.”

Deidre raised one eyebrow. “Well. If he did, he didn’t show his face in town.”

“Wow again.”

“Yeah. And know what else?”

“What?”

She held her hands to the side of her mouth. “She doesn’t keep anyone in her employ for more than a year.”

“But… I thought you’d been there a while?”

“Nope. Almost a year to the day. Other gals I’ve run into—and you know, I see a lot of people in this job now—say it’s just a ‘one year’ position. No one’s lasted more than that.”

Vivian’s heart sank. “Oh, crap. I thought I was in for the long haul. What’ll I do if she fires me next summer? I don’t exactly have skills, you know?”

Deidre waved to an elderly woman who beckoned to her. “Be right there!” She turned back to Vivian. “No worries. If you get canned, you come over here and I’ll get you a job. You’d be great with the customers. They’d love you.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Vivian said. “But thanks anyway.”

Deidre drifted back to the cash registers. “Nice seeing you again, Vivian. Watch your back.”

“You, too. Thanks.” Vivian fluttered her fingers and returned her treasures to the shelves. Maybe she shouldn’t be buying anything frivolous for the next year. Nobody would pay as high a salary as Uvi did, and Viv especially wouldn’t be able to afford her mom’s fees working as a sales clerk.

Her heart sank.

What will I do? I’m all alone now.

With a heavy heart, she pedaled back along the sandy roads toward The Seacroft.

Chapter 8

That morning, Cody watched Vivian roll down the driveway from his apartment window.

Where was she going on that rickety old bike? She could have asked him for a ride. He’d offered to take her out for shopping or errands if she ever needed it. You couldn’t carry much in a bike basket, although it wasn’t a bad way to get a little exercise.

Shrugging, he got ready to shower. He planned to head over to Blueberry Hill because he hadn’t seen the triplets in a week. Libby had called last night, saying they were asking for him.

He had to admit, that made him smile. Those little curly-topped girls were so darned cute. He knew when he pushed through the front door they’d be shrieking and hanging onto his legs until he made it to the living room, where he’d collapse on the rug and let them tumble all over him.

He’d never thought of himself as a kid-loving guy. But these children were family, and somehow, they’d really gotten under his skin. And damn it, he missed them. A lot.

He wondered about his future. Would he ever marry and have a family of his own?

It would be nice, he figured. To have someone to talk to at night about his day, to share a meal, or to make love to. It would be more than nice.

He stripped and walked into his tiny bathroom, already steamy from the shower he’d started a few minutes ago. Stepping inside, he let the water run down his body, soothing and warm. He soaped up, rinsed, and washed his hair. He stood for another full five minutes under the spray, loving the feel of it on his skin.

When he turned off the water, he heard something out of place. What was it? A knock on his door?

Nobody ever visited his little apartment.

Yes. There it was again. Someone was at his door.

He grabbed a big white towel and quickly wrapped it around his waist. “Coming,” he yelled.

He opened the door to find Uvi, her face tear-stained. “What’s wrong?”

Her face crumpled and she fell against him. “Oh, Cody.”

“What is it?” Tenderly, he led her inside to his beat up couch. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll just go run and put on some clothes.”

“No! Don’t leave me, please. I’m sorry,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I just didn’t know where else to go.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” He reached for a box of tissues on the end table and handed one to her. “Here you go.”

She snuffled and convulsed against him, unable to speak. Her arms snaked around his neck and she leaned her head against his bare chest.

He felt her long lashes flutter against his skin and in spite of the total inappropriate timing of his body’s reaction, he felt himself harden. The whisper of her cheeks and lips against his chest propelled him into such a state of longing that he feared she’d notice and do what? Fire him?

Like a porcelain vase, she was unbearably beautiful, yet so fragile. He’d never seen her like this.

Again, his groin spasmed.

He shouldn’t feel this way. It was wrong, so wrong. He willed his reaction away and hoped she wouldn’t notice.

“Uvi? What happened?” he repeated.

She snuggled closer to him, still weeping. When it slowed, she sat up, her eyes full of tears. He plucked another tissue and gently wiped her cheeks.

“It’s my father,” she said.

He waited, watching the flow of emotions twist her features.

“He went missing at sea thirteen years ago.” She choked out another sob. “But now I know all that had to be lies, because they just dug him up.”

“That’s horrible.”

“He was a lobsterman. But they were excavating a building lot in Barnstable last week and came across a skeleton. It was the dental records that—” She couldn’t go on, and began to weep again.

“I’m so sorry. Was it murder?”

She nodded. “They’ve just arrested his partner. He’s the one who took over the lobster business, and the person who reported him going overboard that morning. He was the only witness.”

“Whoa. Looks pretty bad for him, then.”

She wept some more, then sat up and wiped her eyes. “I never did like Judd very much. He was a real creep.”

“I’m so sorry.” He stroked her hair away from her eyes, and his heart broke for her.

She touched her lips to his, barely making contact. She didn’t pull back, but lingered in place, torturing him with the sweet sensations. Ever so slightly touching skin to skin, she suddenly slipped her tongue inside his mouth.

His body lurched into a new unbridled stage of desire. Without even thinking, he kissed her back and she responded, pressing closer. The scent of jasmine wafted up to him, heightening his senses.

His conscience rose up.
For God’s sake, she’s my boss. I can’t do this.
He pulled back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” He wanted to say “You shouldn’t have,” but he didn’t.

She laid a finger to his lips and shook her head. “Shh. It’s okay.” She smiled through her tears. “I need you, Cody.”

“Are you sure?” he whispered. “You won’t fire me when it’s over?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She slid a hand along his chest, gently circling a fingertip around one nipple. “And no, I won’t fire you.”

How could he say no? The most exotic creature he’d ever known was asking him—pleading with him—to make love to her. She needed him, and without another thought, he slipped his arms around her and drew her onto his lap, decisively kissing her.

As if he’d unleashed a summer storm, she came alive, parting his lips again with her tongue, running her hands over the towel that still covered him. He stood and lifted her in his arms, and the towel fell away. Slowly, he walked her to the bedroom and laid her back against the pillows.

“Cody,” she groaned with a tiny hiccup of a sob. “I need you.”

“I’m here,” he said, kissing her forehead, neck, and collarbone.

Her eyes roamed down his body, filled with wanting. “You are perfect.” Her fingers trailed to his organ, and as if it were just waiting to be invited to the party, it fully stood to attention. “Just perfect,” she repeated, leaning down to touch her tongue to his most sensitive flesh. His body quivered and he arched backwards.

She took control now, and he realized he had no hope of backing away or allowing second thoughts to stop the progress of what was about to happen. What was certain to happen.

This woman—who controlled his life in so many ways—also controlled his throbbing body. Unleashed into its countdown sequence, he knew he couldn’t avoid the outcome. There was no time for condoms, no time to talk or think. He just lay back and felt the slippery ministrations of her mouth on his flesh.

Just before he could take no more, she backed away and slid out of her shorts and underwear. As if they did this every night, she threw a leg over him and grasped him, positioning him beneath her. In one quick move, she engulfed him and he disappeared inside her.

He didn’t move. He didn’t have to. She began to stroke up and down on him, slowly, leisurely. With her head thrown back and her black hair loose and flowing down her shoulders, she came alive. Deep growls started in her throat, then worked their way to her lips, spilling forth with wild abandon.

He reached up now and unbuttoned her blouse, releasing lush breasts that sprang out of the tight fabric. Soft and creamy, he caressed both at once, leaning forward to kiss them, one at a time. She arched backward, moaning so loud he nearly jumped.

“Cody,” she said with a growl.

No longer able to take the sweet agony, he flipped her onto her back and began to plunge up and down, deep inside her, rocking the bed so that the headboard actually banged against the wall. Her legs came up and encircled his back, and she raked long fingernails over his skin. He was sure she drew blood, but he didn’t care.

Her moans turned to shrieks, and in minutes they’d both climbed higher and higher until she screamed with pleasure, her body clenching him in spasm after spasm. He rode her harder, building her second orgasm with care, and in that final moment when he could hold off no longer, she shouted again and he exploded inside her, his body pitching in intense pleasure almost too powerful to bear.

He collapsed at her side, perspiring and breathing hard.

She came to her senses first, tracing her fingers over his hip and down to his scrotum. She hefted it in her palm, then stroked his penis gently. “Oh, Cody. My beautiful young man.”

He opened his eyes, still barely able to catch his breath. “My God. That was… ” He thought back to the few girls he’d made love to in high school. It had been amazing, but always fast and hidden away in a closet or back seat. He’d never savored the experience. Nor had he seen such a reaction from a woman before. Maybe he’d never brought them to climax? He honestly didn’t know. He hadn’t even known enough back then to ask the question,
was it good for you, too?