A Little Light Magic (13 page)

“Thirty.”

“You look younger.”

She slipped her arm around his waist. “Thanks. And thanks for what you did on the beach.”

“What? Chewing you out?”

“Worrying about me.” She paused. “For being my knight in shining armor.”

He plucked at his wet clothes. “More like knight in soggy shirt.”

“Close enough.” She leaned into him, and his arm tightened around her. They came to a halt in the darkness behind the dunes. Silence stretched between them, louder than the pounding surf. Just a few steps away, a streetlight cast a soft glow on the sand, but here, in the shadows, it was so dark she couldn’t see the expression in his eyes.

But she knew what he wanted.

She touched his face. “Kiss me, Nick.”

He didn’t need coaxing. He gathered her in his arms, pulling her into the heat of his body. His mouth found hers. They were both soaked, but she hardly cared. His lips were delicious. Her hands skimmed his shoulders, his arms, his hips. He was warm and solid. He wanted her, and she wanted him, too, and that felt good. It felt right.

Her hands wandered to the button on his shorts. She worked it free and tugged the zipper down. He deepened their kiss, his hot tongue stroking into her mouth. Her fingers slipped through the fly on his boxers and closed on his erection. He inhaled sharply. She stroked the velvet length of him, once, twice.

He caught her hand and tugged it away. “Your place,” he said, nipping a trail down her neck.

Instead of answering, she pressed her hips against him.

He groaned. “Baby, you’re killing me. I want you so bad.”

“Then have me.” She tugged him farther into the shadows. “Right here.”

He laughed a little, as though she were joking.

She licked a line down his salty neck and nibbled his shoulder. “I mean it. Let’s do it here. I’ve always wanted to make love on a beach.”

He shifted. “You’re nuts.”

She laughed. “I know.” She kissed her way down his body. When she got to his navel, she dropped to her knees.

She felt the pressure of his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length. “No. This is crazy. Someone might see us.”

“Who? No one’s around.”

He shifted his grip to her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. “Tori. I’m not gonna have sex on the beach.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, it’s illegal.”

“It’s exciting.”

“It’s too sandy.”

She kissed his jaw. “It’s supposed to be sandy. It’s a beach.”

“I don’t have a condom.”

“We can do something else, then.”

She dropped back to her knees, her hands on the back of his thighs for balance. The whole scene had her hot. The ocean, the night air—and yes, even the possibility of discovery. Maybe especially that. She’d loved doing it outdoors with Colin, before things went sour. She’d had some of her best times naked under the sky.

Moisture gathered between her thighs as she quickly unzipped Nick’s fly. He was hard; her lips sought the tip of his erection.

He jerked backward. “No. Not here.”

His sudden movement sent her pitching forward into his legs. She fell against him, and he lost his footing in the soft sand. They went down in a tangle of limbs.

She laughed at the absurdity of it all. She wriggled onto his chest and kissed him, her tongue deep in his mouth, her body rubbing him like a cat. She straddled him, loving the feel of his hard body between her thighs.

He grabbed her waist. “Tori. Come on. Quit it.”

She pulled up the hem of his sand-encrusted shirt and kissed his flat stomach. “No.”

“Tori—” The drone of a motor cut him off. “Shit.”

With an abrupt motion he rolled, taking Tori with him. She landed on her back in the sand, breathless.

The droning got louder.

“Lie still,” he hissed, shielding her with his body.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Police. They patrol the beach on ATVs at night. Just pray he doesn’t look over here.”

She lay motionless beneath him, heart pounding, loving the feel of his weight anchoring her to the cool sand. The cop’s appearance hadn’t splashed cold water on her libido—just the opposite. She was hotter than ever.

Headlights flashed over the sand, then receded.

Nick started to breathe again. After a moment, he sat up, pulling Tori with him.

“Shit. That was close.”

She pulled him down for a kiss. “And now he’s gone and it’ll be ages before he comes back….”

“Forget it.”

“But—”

“Tori, I said no.”

The anger in his voice finally got through. Her lust cooled a bit, and she fell silent.

He stood and started swatting at the wet sand on his shirt and pants. It was a hopeless task. She rose more slowly, suddenly chilled by the night air. But unlike before, she didn’t snuggle under Nick’s arm. In fact, she stayed a step or two behind him during the whole awkward trek back to her house.

The sinking feeling in her gut kept going down and down and down.

“Look,” he said when they reached her porch, “it’s not like I was turning you down back there.”

“No?” She stared at his chest. He tried to hold her, but her crossed arms kept them apart.

“Aw, Tori, come on.”

“Will you be working tomorrow?” Her voice sounded distant, even to her own ears.

He exhaled sharply. “Don’t tell me you’re pissed again.” His tone was flat. “Just because I don’t want to screw on a public beach?”

Her shoulders slumped. “It’s not that, really.”

“Then what?”

Good question. She tried to puzzle out why she felt so rejected. Because Nick hadn’t wanted to ravish her in the sand? Even she could tell she was overreacting, but that didn’t make his attitude hurt any less. She and Nick were polar opposites. Why did she imagine a little lust could get around that? They had no future together.

Chelsea was right, she thought wearily. It was too soon after Colin for Tori to be letting herself care this much about any man. Especially one she’d just met. She was on the rebound, trying to take shortcuts. She was trying so hard to pretend Nick was a comfortable, long-term lover, but he wasn’t that. He was someone she was just beginning to know, and the more time they spent together, the more potholes appeared in the road of any future relationship. It would take a long time to reconcile their basic differences and make some kind of commitment—if they actually could. She thought of the baby she wanted so badly. How long would it be before she could even think of discussing children with Nick? Months? Years?
Ever?

“I…” She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight and burning. “I’m sorry. I’m just really tired tonight. I’m going to crash early.” She backed out of his arms. “I hope you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sober. “Tori, I…”

She turned away, fumbling in the pocket of her shorts. After a few seconds, she gave up and leaned against the door frame. “I forgot my key.”

“No problem,” Nick said, unzipping a pocket on his cargo shorts. “I’ve got the spare.”

For some reason, Tori’s already low-flying mood took a nosedive.

“Of course you do,” she said.

Family lies come in many varieties: little white. Big ugly.
Keep-the-peace. Don’t-worry-Mom. Family is just too damn close to trust with the truth.

“Hi, Dad.”

Shit.
Leigh was the last person Nick wanted to see after that scene with Tori. But there she was, sitting at the bottom of the stairs in the dark foyer, even though it was almost midnight.

“Hi, yourself,” he said. “You waiting up for me?”

“Yeah.”

Her oversize T-shirt nearly swallowed her body, making her look like the little girl she’d once been. The one who used to hide behind the door, giggling, when he came home from work.

God, he missed that. He hadn’t realized how much until that very moment.

“What happened to you? You’re all wet.”

He racked his brain for a plausible explanation. “Defective sprinkler head on the Bayview job.” He hoped it was too dark for her to see all the sand and realize he was feeding her a load of BS.

“Bayview, huh? That’s where you were tonight?”

“Yeah.” The lie stuck in his throat. “We’re working double shifts and weekends, trying to wrap things up.”

“How much longer till it’s done?”

“A couple weeks. Tell you what,” he added, forcing enthusiasm. “When you start working at the office next week, I’ll take you out to see it. You used to love going out to job sites when you were young.”

Leigh looked down at her painted toenails. “You know, Dad, I was thinking about that. Maybe I don’t want to work at the office this summer.”

“But you’ve worked there the last three years. Doris is counting on you.”

“Yeah, I know. But Stacey got this great job busing tables at one of the casino restaurants. She said they’re still hiring. The tips are fantastic.”

Nick nearly choked. His daughter hauling dirty dishes in a casino? Getting ogled by low-life gamblers? “Absolutely not.”

“Dad. A lot of kids from school have summer jobs at the casinos.”

“You don’t. And you’re not going to. You’re working for me this summer, as usual.”

“But it’s so boring filing contracts and answering phones!”

“Boring pays the bills. Including, I might add, the repairs on the car your boyfriend pitched into the marsh.”

Leigh’s angry glare hit him right between the eyes. “That accident wasn’t Jason’s fault! The other car swerved into our lane. We would’ve crashed if Jason hadn’t gone off the road.”

“Ah, yes, the mysterious other car. The jury’s still out on that one, Leigh.”

She stood, her hand gripping the stair rail. “You still don’t believe me?”

“Why should I? You lied about staying at Stacey’s. You lied about being behind the wheel.”

“Oh!
I
lied, did I? You’re a fine one to talk.”

Nick started. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re so smart. You figure it out.” She turned and stomped up the steps.

Nick stood dripping in the foyer, staring up after her.

Tori was repainting her cloud mural on the morning after the beach fiasco with Nick, trying to ignore the twisting sense of loss in her stomach. Instead, she focused her thoughts on pregnancy. She didn’t have the luxury of waiting for a good, steady relationship with a man before she took the motherhood plunge. She’d decided to call Dr. Brenner and tell him she’d chosen the gay journalist/poet/Democrat to be the father of her child. And if that felt a little weird, she calmed her nerves with a mental picture of Lily.

But it was so hard to stop thinking of Nick.

Someone rang her newly rewired doorbell. Tori’s paintbrush paused. A pretty teenager with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a lush Barbie-doll figure stood on the porch.

“Sorry,” Tori called. “I’m not open until next week.”

“Oh, I don’t want to shop.” The girl opened the screen door a crack. “I just saw your ‘Coming Soon’ sign and wanted to talk. Can I come in?”

Tori put down her brush and smiled. “Sure.”

“I’m Leigh,” the girl said, stepping through the door.

“Nice to meet you, Leigh. I’m Tori.”

Leigh looked around, taking in the unfinished mural, the hanging crystals, the empty shelves, and the full boxes.

“Wow. Too cool. You’re painting the walls yourself?”

“Yes.”

She looked through the new fire door, which Tori had left propped open. “You live here, too?”

“Yes,” she said again, a little taken aback by the girl’s curiosity.

“We’re practically neighbors, then,” she said with a smile. “I live a few blocks up the street.”

“Are you in town for the summer?”

She shook her head, scattering her long blonde hair over her shoulders. “Believe it or not, I’m one of the ten people who live in Margate year-round.” She gave the room another look. “Did you do all the renovations on this place yourself?”

“No. The city required me to hire a licensed contractor.”

“Oh. Where is he?”

“On a bigger, better day job. He’s doing mine on the side, after hours.”

“Working late, huh?”

“Yes.” Tori felt her cheeks go blotchy. She hoped Leigh didn’t notice.

The girl peered at her. “What are you going to sell here?”

“Oh, New Age merchandise, mostly. Tarot cards, crystals, runes. I’ll probably tell fortunes, too.”

Leigh’s startled expression kind of reminded Tori of Nick’s face when she’d told him the same thing. “Fortune-telling? No kidding? Think you’ll have a lot of customers?”

“I hope so. But so far you’re the only person who’s stopped by. Of course, my big sign’s not up yet. That might have something to do with it.”

“You should advertise in the newspaper.”

Tori grimaced. “I called the Atlantic City paper, but you’d need a magnifying glass to read the ad I could afford.”

“Take out an ad in the
Downbeach Wave
. It’s a community newspaper. I bet it’s way cheaper than the
Press
.”

It was an idea. “Do you think that would help?”

“Sure. Everyone reads the
Wave
. They give it out free all over town.” She gave a sidelong glance. “You know, I could make up an ad for you. Something really catchy.”

“You do artwork?”

“Yeah. I took a computer graphics class last semester. I can do whatever you want.”

Tori thought it over. With everything else going on, she hadn’t thought much about advertising. “How much would you charge?”

“Oh, maybe fifty dollars for me, plus whatever the paper’s fee is. I’ll take care of everything.”

Sounded good. “Okay. But I’ll need to see the ad before you submit it to the paper.”

“No problem there. What’re you calling this place?”

“Destiny’s Gate.”

“Cool. I’ll do something heavenly, with clouds.” Leigh smiled. “You’ll love it.”

The next day, Tori visited Chelsea and told her she’d decided to go through with the donor insemination.

“What about your contractor?” Chelsea asked, too casually.

“What about him?” Tori countered, trying to sound equally casual. She mashed Lily’s organic carrots with a Peter Rabbit fork.

“Oh, come on, Tori. What’s the deal?”

She popped a spoonful of carrots into Lily’s mouth. The baby grimaced and spit them out.

“I’m attracted to Nick, sure. What hetero woman wouldn’t be? But he and I are so different. And you’re right: I’m still on the rebound from Colin.” She managed to spoon another dose of carrots into Lily. “I’m not ready for a man, Chelsea, but I’m more than ready for a baby. I don’t see any reason to wait.”

Chelsea put some cut-up pieces of banana on Lily’s high chair tray. “I think you’re making the right decision. It can be dangerous for a woman to arrange her life around a man.”

“Don’t I know it,” Tori muttered, coaxing another spoonful of carrots past Lily’s lips. The baby made a face. Tori did an airplane sound, swooping the spoon in for a landing on Lily’s tongue.

Chelsea’s expression was solemn. “Colin really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

Tori chewed her lower lip. “I got pregnant, Chelse. It was an accident, but I was so happy about it. But Colin didn’t want the baby. He didn’t want his own child—the one we’d made together.” Her stomach tightened in a cramp. “He wanted me to have an abortion.”

Chelsea’s breath escaped in a gasp. “Did you?”

“Colin was sure that I would. I always went along with whatever he wanted. But I just couldn’t.”

She watched Lily squeeze a banana chunk in her chubby fist. Yellow pulp escaped from between her plump fingers. “How could I get rid of my own child? I couldn’t. I told Colin I was having the baby, no matter what. The very next night, I found him in bed with one of our tour clients.”

“Oh, God.”

“I went ballistic on him. It was almost funny. Five years together without a single fight, and I made up for it all in one night. I screamed. Threw things. I even tried to hit him, but he grabbed me. I had bruises on my wrists for a week.” Reliving that scene caused Tori’s pulse to kick up. The knot of pain in her stomach tightened.

Chelsea’s eyes went wide, and even Lily picked up on Tori’s distress. The baby’s mouth opened wide, and she didn’t even protest when Tori scooped in more carrots.

“It was the hormones,” Chelsea said. “They can make you insane. Mags and I fought like bitches when I was carrying Lily.”

Tori tried to laugh, but her stomach had cramped up so much she couldn’t manage a deep enough breath. “Colin was so pissed. He told me…”

He’d told her he didn’t love her. “He told me he didn’t care what I did, but that he didn’t want anything to do with the baby and I’d have to take him to court and prove the kid was his before he’d give me a dime for support. The cramps…they started the next day. My first prenatal visit was to the emergency room. I miscarried.” She closed her eyes on a tide of grief. “It was as if the baby knew she wasn’t wanted.”

“It was a girl?”

“I never knew, really. They didn’t tell me. But I think of her as a girl.”

Sudden white-hot pain sliced through Tori’s gut. Her stomach spasmed hard. She dropped Lily’s spoon and bent over double in her chair, gasping.

Chelsea sprang to her side. “Oh, my God! What is it? Are you sick? Should I call a doctor?”

“No. No doctors.” The pain wasn’t new. She’d had it every month since the miscarriage. “Just help me get home.”