Second Chance (15 page)

“Looks like it,” she said. She dropped the sponge back into the bucket and rubbed her back. The constant stooping and straightening had created a line of knots in her lower back. She knew there’d be hell to pay tomorrow.

He set the putty knife on the coffee table and bent down to scoop up an armful of paper.

“I can get it,” she said.

“And I can help.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a half-full trashcan. They worked together and before long, the only evidence of the mess were a few odd flecks of wet paper stuck to the floor. She’d sweep them up tomorrow.

“So, we’re done?” Cash asked. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts and waited.

Elle looked at the walls and then back at him. “Aren’t we?”

He cocked his head. “I’m not talking about the walls, Elle.”

TWENTY-SIX

She’d let him leave.

Elle lay in bed, her head spinning. And not just from the three stiff drinks she’d knocked back.

She’d told him to leave.

That they were done.

She clutched at the sheet draped across her, her fingers digging into the thin fabric. She’d told him the one thing she was sure of. That her future was with a job in Madison, not on Keefer Island.

At least she thought she was sure of it.

She groaned and shifted under the sheet, her legs tangling between the fabric. What was she supposed to do? She’d come to the island to clear her head, to get a handle on where she was at and where she was going. She knew there’d be ghosts—dead ones and live ones—but she hadn’t been prepared for them to insert themselves so fully back into her life. To come crashing in, demanding she make decisions, compelling her to make choices.

All she’d wanted was a peaceful summer. A summer to forget about the crappy job she’d just quit, a summer to reflect back on all of the bittersweet memories the island held for her. She’d wanted the chance to earn a little money nannying and spend some time back in her favorite place on earth: her grandmother’s house on the island.

And then Cash had exploded back into her life.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to black out the image of him, the memories of just hours before. The talking. And the kissing.

It didn’t work.

“You can’t stay,” she told herself out loud. “This is not what you need. Cash Brady is the past, not the future. Don’t be an idiot. He broke your heart once before. He’ll do it again.”

And, right on cue, her inner voice screamed back at her.

No, he didn’t! He loved you. He’s always loved you. Don’t be a fool. Don’t walk away from him again. Because this time, you might not get him back.

She sighed. It was useless. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep. She flung the sheet off of her and padded into the kitchen. The night had cooled off and a breeze stole through the kitchen window, cool and soft on her skin. She breathed in the salty scent and listened to the waves crash in the distance. It was soothing, like one of her grandmother’s cups of chamomile tea.

She opened a cupboard and reached for a glass. She filled it with water and leaned against the counter, draining it in one long gulp.

She wanted everything to be easy, to fall into place. She didn’t want to be bombarded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. She hadn’t planned on her summer being filled with emotional turmoil and indecision. She didn’t want that in her life.

She set the glass down on the counter. In the morning, she would call Connie every fifteen minutes until she got her on the phone. She would finalize the details with the job back in Wisconsin. She wasn’t going to wait. She wanted definitive plans. No more indecision, no more drama. She would take charge.

She stared out the window, feeling good about her determination and taking charge.

As she smiled to herself, a shadow moved out on the sand beyond the deck.

Elle leaned forward and squinted at the window. The shadow was moving up the dunes. Toward the deck.

She glanced at the green digital numbers on the microwave. It was the middle of the night. Who was out walking? And why were they coming toward her house?

She darted around the counter to the backdoor and grabbed at the lock. It was latched shut. She stepped back to the window, her heart thumping. The phone was three steps away and she moved toward it, her hand inches from the receiver.

The shadow was on her deck now.

And it wasn’t a shadow at all.

It was Cash.

The momentary fear she’d felt at seeing a dark shadow approach her home in the middle of the night dissipated, replaced by confusion. Why was he there? At that hour?

He stood at the back door, his hair disheveled, his hands on his hips, as if he’d expected her to be there and she was keeping him waiting outside.

She unlatched the lock and slid the door open. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked, standing in the doorway.

“Because people are knocking on my door in the middle of the night.”

“You were awake before I got here. And I didn’t knock.”

“What are you doing here?” she repeated, irritated.

“We have unfinished business,” he said, the breeze blowing in behind him from the water.

“Unfinished business?” she said. “What? With the house?”

“No,” he said, finally stepping through the doorway. “With us.”

“With us?” she said. “I told you…”

“I know what you told me,” he said, stepping closer to her. “But I’m done listening to you.”

Elle’s heart pounded as he closed the distance between them. “What do you mean done listening? I told you…”

He reached out for her and pulled her to him and before she could say anything else, he covered her mouth with his. Her stomach somersaulted as he kissed her, his fingers wrapping gently around her arms, holding her steady. His lips pressed against hers and every muscle in her body tingled. She slipped her arms from his grasp and put them around his neck, kissing him back.

He began walking her backwards and the tingling in her body ratcheted up a notch as they fell in step together. He kissed her harder and she matched his intensity, her fingers lacing through his hair. He wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. She pressed her body against his as they navigated the dark hallway.

She shuffled her feet on the wood floor and she knew they’d reached the bedroom. Her calves bumped against the bed and he lowered her down onto her back, his weight coming down gently on top of her. He moved his lips from her mouth to her ear.

“Unfinished business, Elle,” he whispered. “Unfinished business.”

Her hands found his face and she held it steady, staring into his eyes, so he could see her, so she could see him.

Take charge, she’d commanded herself earlier. Be decisive.

She lifted her legs around him, wrapping them around his waist and pulling him tight to her.

Her lips brushed his. “Let’s finish it then.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

Elle’s eyes fluttered against the morning sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window. She squinted at the blinding glare and pulled Cash’s arm tighter around her.

They were tangled in the sheets, his arm and legs thrown over her. He snored softly next to her on the pillow, his bare chest pressed against her side.

She wasn’t sure which of them had fallen asleep first, but she knew they’d both been spent, empty of energy and emotion. She wasn’t sure what time it was when they’d finally collapsed and drifted off, but she knew that the unfinished business had been addressed. Her legs and back ached in the best of ways, ways that she hadn’t felt in far too long.

She turned her head to look at Cash. His mouth was slightly open, his hair sticking out at multiple angles, more stubble on his chin than the day before.

It had been exactly right. The way she’d always imagined it. No, that wasn’t true. Better than she’d imagined it. Like they’d both planned it out and everything came together in a perfect combination of passion and emotion and desire. The kind of sex you saw in the movies or read about in books, but not the kind you actually had.  This was nirvana—taking her breath away and carrying her away to a place she never thought she’d get to.

Well, Cash Brady had gotten her there. And a little further.

He stirred on the pillow, bringing his lips together and lifting his eyes open.

“Hey,” he mumbled, a weak smile creeping onto his lips.

“Hi.”

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked.

“I drew a mustache on you,” she told him, her eyes full of mirth. “I can’t decide if it looks right or not.”

His hand snuck out of the sheets and brushed at his upper lip. He held his fingertips out, inspecting them. “You did not.”

“No, but I wish I had.”

He used the arm draped over her to pull her down and closer to him, his warm skin beneath the blankets setting her senses on fire.

He brushed the tip of his nose against hers, then kissed her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“I guess I made the right decision.”

“What do you mean?”

His fingers traced their way up her spine. “I spent a fair amount of time walking up and down the beach before I came up here.”

“Why?”

“Wasn’t sure if I should,” he said. “Wasn’t sure if you’d open the door. Wasn’t sure if you’d mistake me for an intruder and shoot me.”

“Were you going to break in?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

She smiled. “You knew I’d open the door.”

“No, I really didn’t.”

“Bull.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Well, maybe I thought the odds were in my favor.”

She shook her head. Yes, he’d scared the hell out of her, emerging in the dark like he had. But she couldn’t imagine letting him stay out there. And that wasn’t just hindsight after the night they’d had. She wouldn’t have left him out there.

“So,” he said. “Last night…”

“It was actually just a few hours ago.”

“Semantics,” he said. “Last night. It was OK?”

She shrugged. “Sure. It was OK.”

His eyes narrowed. “I think I recall you screaming. Which might indicate that it was better than OK.”

“Maybe your hearing has gone bad,” she said.

He pressed his body against her, nothing between them, and pushed his hips into hers. “Or maybe we need to try gain and see what happens. So I can listen a little closer this time.”

Her heart fluttered as she laughed. She took his face in her hands and pulled it close to hers. “I’m kidding. It was better than OK. It was…incredible.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes softening. He kissed her and she melted into him. He pulled back, his eyes trained back on her. “Yeah. Incredible.”

She shifted closer, fitting her body against his. “But maybe we should make sure. Just to make sure we're right about it being incredible.”

He pushed himself up and over her, sliding his entire body between her legs. She grabbed at his hips, heat rushing through her body as their eyes locked.

He looked down at her. “Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes dark with passion. “Good idea.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

A buzzing on the nightstand woke Elle.

This time, she was draped over Cash. He was flat on his back, his mouth open again, his eyes shut tightly. They’d both passed out after this round and Elle had no idea what time it was as she twisted in the sheets and reached for the phone. “Hello?”

“Elle, it’s Connie at Nice Nannies. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Elle struggled to get herself righted in the bed. “Oh, hi,” she stammered. “No, no. I was awake.”

“Well, I wanted to apologize for being so hard to get ahold of,” Connie said. “I’ve had a couple of fires to put out that have pretty much kept me tied up, so I do apologize.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Elle said, glancing at Cash, then turning away from him. “Really. No problem.”

“Ah, good,” Connie said. “So, the job.”

Elle swallowed hard.

“You mentioned in your message that you had good news,” Connie continued. “I assume that means you’ve finalized your travel plans and have a firm start date I can give my clients.”

“Well
…” Elle’s voice trailed off. She twisted further away from Cash.

“Well, what?”

Elle glanced at the man sleeping next to her. The man whose eyes were now open, watching her, a curious expression on his face. She turned away again.

“I actually haven’t,” she said.

“Haven’t what?” Connie asked. “Come up with a firm start date? As I mentioned before, they’re anxious to have you start. The sooner, the better sort of thing.”