With Strings Attached (29 page)

Read With Strings Attached Online

Authors: Kelly Jamieson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Erotica

BOOK: With Strings Attached
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“I’ll…uh…talk to you later.” And Corey fled toward the big bucket full of ice and beer on the other side of the patio.

 

Matt watched Corey and Dylan embrace on the other side of the patio. They were partially obscured by the fronds of a short palm, but he could see the emotion in their body language, the passion in the embrace, and he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He let out a jerky sigh and turned away.

He mingled through the crowd again, stopping to talk to Jaden and a few other people, a smile pasted on his face as he tried not to think about the conversation Dylan and Corey were having, and tried not to look over to where they were.

“Hey, Matty.”

He turned to see his sister Neve. He gave her a halfhearted smile. “Hey. I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just got here a little while ago. I was working. Lots of people here.”

“Yeah.”

“I just saw Corey.”

“Oh yeah?” His gut cramped. Neve was looking at him closely.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He injected a note of surprise into his voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

A faint frown creased her brow. “What’s going on with you and Corey?”

“Me and Corey? Nothing!” He gave a laugh that sounded hollow even to him. “We’re just friends, you know that.”

“Well, actually…” She paused. “You know, you two are both idiots.”

Taken aback, he stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

She grinned and shook her head. “I need another drink.”

“Here. Try one of these.” He handed her one of his Bombshell Blonde Ales. She popped the top off and drank.

“Thanks. So…you coming to Mom’s for dinner tomorrow night?”

Mom had invited all three siblings for dinner to get to know Corwin. “Yeah. I guess.” He looked forward to that as much as he’d look forward to having his chest waxed.

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic. He’s a nice guy.”

“Yeah. No doubt.” He’d gone over to his mom’s place last weekend to see if she needed help with anything, only to find Corwin mowing her lawn. “Corwin has it covered,” she’d assured him cheerfully. “You should go see if Jenna needs any help.”

Jenna hadn’t. But when he’d showed up at her place, glowering a little, she’d invented some job that didn’t even really need to be done, and he’d wondered how many times she’d done that. Here he thought he was being helpful and apparently he was just a sad case they tried to keep busy and make feel useful.

“So. What’s up with you?” he asked Neve, eyeing her. “When’re you going to quit that job at the coffee shop and go back to school or something?”

Her eyebrows snapped together. “I’m not going back to school, Matt.”

“You need an education to get somewhere in this world.”

“I have an education. I do have a college degree.”

“You’re not using it.”

“Oh for… Here we go again. What if I
like
working in a coffee shop? What if I have ambitions to do that?”

He laughed. “Ambitions to make coffee for the rest of your life?”

She glared at him. “Thanks. Thanks a bunch. I might have hopes and dreams of my own, you know, you don’t need to laugh at them.
You
make
beer
, for God’s sake. Geez.” And she turned her back on him and stomped off.

His mouth dropped open and he snapped it shut and frowned at her retreating back. Oh for Chrissake.

One of these days he was going to talk some sense into his little sister.

The image of Corey and Dylan in a heated clinch flashed before his eyes. A sharp knife lodged in his heart and twisted, and the hand holding his beer trembled.

Hell with it. He was outta there. He dropped his bottle onto a table and headed out to the front street where he’d parked his Jeep.

 

Dylan didn’t know where Matt had gotten to. Corey wanted to leave and they didn’t have a vehicle, but then someone she knew offered her a ride, so she looked at him with sad eyes. He gave a short nod, kissed her forehead. “You go on,” he said. “I’m gonna hang here for a while longer.”

He didn’t feel like going home and facing Matt. He didn’t feel like staying at the party either. So he started walking on the beach, gazing out at the black ocean and midnight blue sky. Stars twinkled above and the noise of the party grew fainter as he walked farther down the beach. His foot felt good. Walking barefoot on damp, packed sand felt good. He walked closer to the water, let the waves wash over his feet in a foamy caress. He stopped and stood there. The breeze slid cool fingers through his hair, brushing it off his face and he drew the familiar briny scent deep into his lungs.

He’d always loved the ocean. And while he’d always had a healthy respect for it, he’d never been afraid of it. As in, too afraid to go in it. His stomach contracted and his palms dampened. He took another step closer, the waves having receded. And another. A wave washed closer, over the tops of his feet. But the next one came higher, right up over his ankles, pleasantly cool. He waited for the panic to start buzzing in his brain, his ears, waited for the rush of adrenaline to heat his veins. He had to go in the water.

He closed his eyes and pictured himself on his board, paddling out toward the horizon, the water getting deeper and deeper, the waves getting higher and higher. His heart picked up speed and his breath grew shorter.

It was what he’d always loved. The exhilaration. The love, respect, knowledge and fear of the ocean, the way he could connect with a wave and become part of it. He remembered when he first started surfing as a kid, how he’d been too stupid to be afraid. He remembered how many times he’d tanked. Rag-dolled. Eaten foam. Come up sand-faced. How he’d learned how much of surfing was mental—how if you were afraid and didn’t think you could do it, you wouldn’t. But if you were confident and sure while you paddled into a wave, you could own that wave. You could ride that wave, fly on that wave, stick to it like you were part of it when everything was perfect.

Why was he torturing himself like this? He should just give up. Forget it. Forget all his hopes and dreams and big ambitions. It was a stupid dream anyway. Surfing. What the hell kind of career was that?

Running into Mairin at the party, remembering the disdain she’d shown for his sport, just reinforced his doubts. He’d seen how hard Corey and Matt both worked at their businesses. Sure, they weren’t saving lives either, but they were creating something for other people, unlike him, who only surfed for himself. What did he do to make the world a better place? Fucking nothing, that’s what.

He felt a strange stinging in the corners of his eyes as waves sloshed higher on his calves and he gazed out to sea.

Chapter Twenty

Corey woke up the next morning with a hammering headache. It wasn’t as if she’d gotten toasted last night, she’d only had a couple of beers but man, she felt like crap. As she lay in bed, memories of her conversation with Dylan flooded back and she closed her eyes at the sharp ache in her chest.

She had to get to the farmers’ market again and preparing her chocolates, loading, unloading and arranging them distracted her from thinking about Dylan until she finally sat at her booth, waiting for customers.

If only he hadn’t issued that impulsive invitation for her to go with him. She hated having to say no to him, hated that he’d put her on the spot like that, knowing there was no way she was going to leave San Amaro. Maybe for a man she was crazy head over heels in love with, forever and ever, she might do something like that, but that wasn’t the case with Dylan. And despite his invitation and his reluctance to leave, she was pretty sure he didn’t feel that way about her, either. So what had that all been about?

Things got busy, again taking her mind off Dylan until she was nearly ready to close up and Matt arrived. Her heart jumped in her chest at the sight of him and she bit her bottom lip. He approached her booth with hands shoved into the pockets of his cargo shorts, a long sleeved T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, a wary look on his face that she
hated
. She didn’t want things to be like this between them. Her insides twisted into knots.

“Hey,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“Okay.”

“Um…where’s Dylan?”

“No idea. Why?”

His eyes studied her, still with that shuttered look. “Didn’t he spend the night with you?”

“No.” Then she frowned. “Didn’t he come home last night?”

“No.”

Her mind went in circles. Where had he gone? Who had he been with? Had he picked up some other girl after they’d talked? Gone home with someone else? That seemed unlikely, but what else could he have done? Unless…something happened to him. She’d been worried about him and what was going on with him, but… Her stomach clenched and her skin broke out in goose bumps. She stared at Matt. “Oh my God. What do you think happened to him?”

He frowned too. “I have no clue. I assumed he was with you. After…well, after he asked you to go with him to France and I saw you two having a pretty intense conversation, I thought…”

She gaped at him. What had he thought? She rubbed her face. “Did you call his cell phone?”

“Yeah. He didn’t answer. Sent him a text too. Maybe he’ll answer when he gets it. His flight leaves at six tonight so he has to come back to my place some time to get his stuff.”

She blew out a breath. “Hell.”

“Maybe he’s there now,” Matt said. “I’m sure he’s fine. What happened last night? I thought you two…” He coughed, then made a small strangled noise and stopped talking.

She sighed. “Nothing happened.”

“You done here?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” She nibbled her bottom lip again. “Can I come to your place and see if he’s there? I’m…worried.”

His eyes narrowed and he gave a short nod. “Sure. I’ll drive. I’ll bring you back for your car later.”

 

 

But Dylan wasn’t there.

“His things are still here,” Matt announced after poking his head into the guest room. “So he’s gotta show up at some point.”

“What if he misses his flight?”

“Then he misses his flight. He’s an adult.”

She nodded, but she was again chewing on her bottom lip. “Something’s going on with him.” She looked around. “Where’s your computer?”

“Why?” But he moved across the living room and pulled his laptop out of a bag.

“I want to check something.”

He set it on the desk and opened it, and Corey slid into the chair there. When it had booted up, she started clicking and typing and reading.

“When was his accident?” she asked.

“Not sure of the exact date, but around the beginning of June.”

She nodded thoughtfully, scanning the items that came up in her search. She clicked on one, then closed it, clicked on another. It didn’t take long to find something. She read the article, her body tensing as she did so. Matt was trying to look over her shoulder.

She turned to look up at him. “Did you read it?”

“No, I can’t see it.”

“When he fell off his surfboard and broke his foot, it wasn’t just a little accident. He nearly died.”

 

“What?” Matt’s gut clenched and he stared at Corey.

“Yeah.” She swallowed and glanced back at the computer screen. “He got pushed down by a huge wave and his leash got tangled on a rock. He was stuck underwater. He was unconscious when they pulled him out and they had to do CPR.”

“Holy fuck.” Matt shook his head. “Is that for real?”

“According to this news article, yeah.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, and they were full of emotion. “Luckily they got him breathing again, got him to the hospital, and the worst of his injuries was his broken foot.”

“Jesus,” Matt muttered, rubbing his eyes. “He never said a goddamn word.”

“I know.” She pressed her trembling lips together and looked back at the computer. “I can’t believe that.”

“He was talking about not going back,” Matt said slowly. “He hasn’t even been in the water since he got here. Even when the doctor gave him the okay to try surfing again.”

“I know.”

“Except he asked you to go with him.”

“Yeah.” She looked away.

Matt rubbed the back of his neck and avoided eye contact. He had to ask but he was terrified of the answer… Was she going to go with Dylan?

At that moment Dylan walked in the front door. They both whirled around to gape at him.

“Hey,” Dylan said.

Matt took in Dylan’s unshaven face shadowed with stubble, his rumpled clothes and messy hair. “Where the hell were you all night?” he asked.

Dylan grinned but it lacked his usual cheeky charm. “What’s it to you?” he asked.

“We were worried about you. I thought you were with Corey, and then when I told her you hadn’t come home we both got worried.”

Dylan curled his lip. “Jesus. Why would you worry about me? I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I was having fun at the party last night and didn’t want to leave. Ended up crashing at Bella and Jaden’s place.”

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