Giving In: The Sandy Cove Series (Book 1) (15 page)

Cruz makes his way to our table and asks us if we need anything from the bar. We give him our orders, and thank him as he arrives back after a few minutes. He hands us our drinks and slides into the seat next to me. My seat is situated so I have a perfect view of the boats docking. Their lights and hard lines, the sleek, sexiness of the boats captivates my attention. Craw comes over to join us and takes a seat next to the girls. Cruz turns and talks into my ear, “You look nice tonight, Turnip. I like this preppy sweater thingy you have going on here.” He picks at my cardigan sweater, and I swat at his hand. He chuckles and turns his head to look at a few girls who just walked in the door. Craw mouths to me, “Friends my ass.” I kick him under the table, and he laughs. We keep the conversation light, discussing nothing in particular. How tomorrow is the 4th of July, and the activities we all have planned. A bar-b-que at our houses and fireworks on the beach at night. Sounds like a perfect day. There’s something to be said about fireworks. They surprise you, coming at you without warning. They are full of color and vibrancy, displaying their brilliance as they capture your attention. There’s an intimacy about them as well, I interpret them like that. Even though thousands of people see the same thing, I feel like they can be my own private show. Bursting out in the sky just for me.

My thoughts of fireworks and bar-b-ques suddenly turn to panic. My gut clenches. The acid in it turns, and my eyes well with unshed tears. Willow looks at my face, knowing damn well that I see something I don’t care to see. My solitude is suddenly lost in an image, and as it approaches, it seeks me out like a hunter who finally spots his next meal. My mind whirls around at the sight of his eyes, the way they hold me captive, his lips, and the way he sticks his tongue out to graze his own top lip, and the way he saunters over towards my table. The hunter appears to be ready to strike, and my breathing becomes heavy and labored. Willow leans over and whispers, “What is it, Harlow? What’s wrong?” The sheer panic in her voice makes her whip her head around to every angle until she spots the hunter.

“Oh, Christ. Harlow, look at me.”

I can’t.

I can’t tear my eyes away. She grabs my hands and tells me sternly, “Harlow, I said look at me.” I do. I focus on her face, seeing my reflection in her eyes due to the fact I’m focusing so hard. She speaks to Craw without breaking her eye contact with me.

“Craw, I think we need to leave, slowly, without making a scene. Do you understand me?” I don’t see Craw’s face, I only hear his words. “Mother fucker.”

Then I hear Cruz’s voice. “What the hell is going on? Turnip? What’s wrong with her?”

I do something again so out of character for me. It’s difficult to comprehend why I do it, but I do it anyway. I break my eye contact with Willow, pull my hands away from hers, and turn my head to Cruz. He looks just as panicked as I am. He searches my eyes for an answer, but I don’t give him one. I only say what I feel I must at that moment.

“Cruz, kiss me, now.”

He pulls back, trying to understand the question, or rather the demand.

“Kiss me now, quickly.”

He smirks. His facial expression bordering on annoyance, and he sits upwards in his chair with defiance.

“I am not kissing you, Harlow. You’ve got to be crazy.”

Wrong choice of words at this present time, my friend.

I search his blue eyes, suddenly taking my hand to his broad, hard chest. I snake it upwards towards his thick neck, scraping my nails on his taut skin. As I do so, I say strongly and without fear, “Maybe I am, but if you don’t kiss me now, I’ll be forced to make you. I’ll be the one.” He hesitates, his mouth slightly parted, and he manages a sigh. I look to my right and see that the hunter is almost at his target, and in a desperate move to convey to him the importance of this act, I whisper, “I warned you.” And I pull his face to mine. My lips touch his, and my tongue darts out to part his lips. The stubbornness of his lips infuriates me, so as my hand reaches up to lock in his unruly brown locks. I feel Cruz’s body relax, and he parts his lips for my welcomed tongue. I slip it inside, tasting him, whipping it around inside his mouth, his tongue bathing mine. The twists and turns of them together, almost in a battle it seems. The subtle moans I hear coming out of his mouth, and I taste him. My eyes are tightly shut, and his hand grasps my hip, pulling me towards him even more. One more inch and I know I’ll be in his lap. I can feel his teeth hit mine, biting at my lower lip, teasing it. As I feel a familiar ache begin to build between my thighs, I see stars. My eyes are shut so steadfastly, temporarily making me forget the purpose of my actions. I see. I see…

Fireworks.

That’s until I hear the hunter speak.

“Baby, I’ve missed you.” My eyes spring open like a jack-in-the-box, but I still keep my focus on the man whose eyes are before me. He licks his lower lip, bringing his free hand up to touch it, and I break my gaze from his when he does so. I look at Willow and Craw, whose expressions I’m not sure I’m reading correctly. Theirs is a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“Baby, did you hear me?” The hunter’s words then bring me back to the reality that he is here, the hunter has found his prey. I turn my eyes to him, not being able to escape his voice as it reverberates through my soul. I need to maintain cool composure and act like his presence is like that of anyone else who says hi to me.

“Oh, hey. What are you doing all the way down here?”

The hunter leans both his hands on the table, gripping it, so he can steady his long, lean body.

“Daddy let me take his boat down here this weekend. He heard about the opening of this place, and told me it was good for her to stretch her legs down this way. What’s, um, going on here?”

Craw stands up, his chair falling behind him from the force of his abrupt move.

“None of your fucking business. Get out of here, asshole, before I throw you out myself.” Willow grabs hold of Craw’s arm, pulling him down, as she sets the flipped over chair up, willing Craw to sit.

The hunter straightens his body up and waves his hands at Craw.

“Whoa, just relax little brother, I only came to say hi to Harlow. I’m meeting a few friends here so I’m not staying, unless she wants me to. Do you want me to stay, baby?”

He sounds like he’s asking me, but he’s not, he’s actually telling me. To the outside world, it appears he’s asking, but I know him and his games and how he lures in his prey.

I don’t answer him, but the hunter’s curiosity about the man I was just kissing comes full circle.

He extends his hand to Cruz. “Hi there. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Chad Knox.” I sneak a glance at Cruz, who looks confused, but takes Chad’s hand anyway, and I hear Cruz say, “Chad… Chad. Nice to meet you.”

“Don’t say it’s nice to meet this son of a bitch. Get the hell out of here, Knox. I’m not fucking kidding.” Craw never holds his words back when speaking to Knox. Chad exudes a small laugh and seems to back away from the table the slightest bit.

“Fine, have it your way. Baby, when you’re done playing around with Mr. Tattoo, I’ll be at my Uncle Dan’s house on 4th Street, if you want to talk. I’ll be there all week. I hope you do come to see me, baby. I’ve really missed you.”

He acknowledges Willow, then Craw, who remains silent, but provides him with the standard one-finger salute. When he retreats and walks to his party, I relax just the slightest bit in my seat. I touch my lips, feeling the swell of them, and I remember what I just did. I turn to Cruz.

“Oh, God, Cruz, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He runs his large hand over his face, scratching at his stubble. His eyes wander around the room, and every time he opens his mouth to speak, only sounds I’m not sure what they are, come out.

“I’ll fucking kill that mother fucker, so help me God. Har, are you ok?”

“I’m… I’m fine, Craw. Cruz?” He doesn’t look at me, and I think I may have just ruined our friendship. My hand finds his arm, and I grasp it.

“Cruz?” He finally looks at me, his eyes tense.

“An ex-boyfriend I presume?”

“Mother fucker is more like it,” Craw says as he pulls out a cigarette to light, but just holds it between his lips. I wait with bated breath for Cruz to say something, anything. Tell me to fuck off, whatever.

“You let him call you baby?” When he says it, it stuns me, and I can’t help to feel a pang in my heart when he does so.

With those words, he gets up out of his chair, throws a few dollars on the table and walks away.

So he met the one we do not speak of, and I wish he hadn’t. I had to kiss him. I had to show Chad he doesn’t have me. His powers are useless against me, and I can move on.

But in actuality, I didn’t. I just used Cruz as a decoy, a distraction from reality. The reality that I caused. I wanted to go talk to Chad, but I have to be strong, fight the forces of evil that invade me. I need to talk to Dr. Goldberg tonight. I need my therapeutic sessions with him on the phone, or even more so, my early morning therapeutic session on the dock with a cop.

But will he give me the therapy I deserve, or did I lose that too?

When I touch my lips, I try to hold back the ache that has surfaced. A familiar one. I never thought a kiss could set me on fire, especially one that I initiated. My belly rolled. I lost all sense of reality, thinking and feeling things that I haven’t in a very long time. Not since last year. But how could that be? I grabbed him and brought his lips to mine just like that fateful night a year ago. It was that same feeling of excitement, adventure, raw sexual emotion, passion, lust, and any other words I can use to describe in a sexual nature. However, thinking of Cruz in that way has rendered me confused. I can’t stop touching my lips. They burn, the blood coursing through them, throbbing. I know what he tasted like, what he smelled like. What it was like to have his tongue duel against mine. Sharing a kiss like that so intimately, but yet surrounded by so many makes my pulse quicken. Again, I did something out of sorts for me. This is what this man does to me, he makes me do things beyond my control, and I have to be in control. I am reckless when I’m with him, I am not the girl who hid under her blankets for over a year. I am not the girl who uses big words to impress people or scare them off. I don’t need to be that way around Cruz. I can be me. Harlow Hannum.

My lips still ache and I wonder when the feeling will leave me, or would I want it to.

“Hi, Dr. Goldberg. I know it’s not one of our regularly scheduled sessions, and I know it’s late but I needed to speak to you.”

I had called Dr. Goldberg’s answering service, and they told me he would call me back. I know it’s well past midnight, but when you’re desperate, you’ll go to any length.

“It’s fine, Harlow. Really, it is. What can I do for you.”

I touch my lips again, feeling the strength of Cruz’s lips still on them, and every time I close my eyes, that moment plays again in my head like a movie. A good one with some sort of climatic moment and then thoughts of Chad pop in and the panic sets in. Immediately, I lose all forms of serenity. The way he made his way over to my table when I spotted him and those eyes. They know how to hypnotize me and reel me in like bait on a hook. I don’t want him because he never wanted me. I used to do whatever I could to please him, but no matter what, I’d always come up short.

“I was out tonight and I saw Chad.”

Dr. Goldberg sighs, not that he is annoyed, but in a way that says he wishes I didn’t.

“I see. Did you exchange words with him?”

“Yes, it was brief. Actually my brother said more to him than I did.”

Dr. Goldberg laughs. “Oh, my. Good old Craw. I like the boy. I like how he always has your back, Harlow. So then what?”

“Well, I think I handled it well. He asked me to come and see him, but I didn’t answer. I kept the conversation short.”

“Good, good. That’s exactly what I told you to do, knowing you are both from the same town and your fathers are friendly, you are bound to run into him.”

I know I have to tell him the reason why I handled it so well, and I’m still not sure it was the best approach seeing the way Cruz left. I think confused is a good word to describe it. I, myself, am bewildered by it all.

“I kind of did something else that I’m not sure was the best thing to do.”

I shut my eyes tight, feeling guilty for what I have done. I’m always feeling guilty for something. I wonder if that feeling will ever subside.

“And what was that, Harlow?”

“I kissed Cruz in front of Chad to… I don’t know, make him jealous? But I don’t think that’s it. I think maybe to distract myself from his presence? See, this is why I’m calling, Dr. Goldberg. I don’t know what made me do what I did.”

I sound whiny, like my sister Greta.

A moment goes by before he speaks again.

“Harlow, what transpired between you and Chad is something I feel you will never fully recover from. What went on will remain in your thoughts no matter what you do, no matter what you say. You told me before he has a powerful grip on you, always has, but I don’t think you did what you did to make him jealous. A distraction, quite possibly, but for some unknown rationalization I think from the things you tell me about your friend Cruz, you wanted to kiss him.”