Healing A Hero (The Camerons of Tide’s Way #4) (7 page)

Chapter 12

August 2001

Tide’s Way, North Carolina

PHILIP LEANED ON the railing of his parent’s deck, staring out at the big waves rolling in and breaking on the beach below.

It was meant to be, Philip
. Elena’s words after a soul-melting kiss that left him breathless and thoroughly aroused just before she flitted upstairs to take a shower. Without her intoxicating presence scrambling his brain, he was questioning the wisdom of starting something he wouldn’t be able to finish. Their time together would come to a frustrating halt in just over a week, and he wouldn’t see her again until Christmas.

What am I doing? She’s just a kid. This is a bad idea.

She was nineteen. He was almost twenty-nine. Ten years older and far more experienced. Even if she wasn’t a virgin, she could hardly know what or who she wanted for herself.

He’d like nothing better than to leave her with a wedding band on her finger and a baby in her belly. But that wasn’t fair to her. She needed to finish college. Even an engagement ring would be asking too much.

Until today, he’d kept a tight rein on his desire to possess her physically, but she’d blasted through his restraint. Her free-spirited enthusiasm and honest acceptance of the sizzle that they both felt had been the final straw. Wise or not, he was going to make love to her and satisfy them both.

A week to pack in enough lovemaking to last for the rest of his deployment wasn’t nearly long enough, but it was all he had. When he got back to the states, if she still felt the same way she did now, then he’d get a ring and get down on one knee to pledge himself to her forever. But for now . . .

For now, he was going to do his best to stop agonizing about being smart and just enjoy what they had going.

“I thought I’d find you out here.”

Startled because he hadn’t heard her coming, Philip whipped around to see Elena halfway across the deck. She wore one of his dress shirts buttoned just enough to leave plenty to the imagination. He was instantly hard and, considering the saucy grin on her face, she knew it.

She had a beer in each hand and held one out to him.

“You’re not old enough for this.” He took both bottles from her and set them on the railing. “Besides, I want you sober and very sure about what you’re doing.”

She placed a hand on his bare chest and slowly trailed her fingers down over his abs to his waistband. His stomach quivered under her touch and his groin throbbed.

“I’m very sure,” she said, lightly touching the tip of his erection through the fabric of his shorts. “But—”

“But?” His heart hammered in his chest and blood pounded through his body as her knuckles skimmed down the length of him.

“I’m not on the pill. I hope you have protection.” She smelled like his shampoo and his Irish Spring soap, but somehow, the combination on her aroused the hell out of him.

“I have protection,” he gasped as her hand closed completely around the bulge in his shorts.

“On you?” She peered up at him with her brows lifted and a sultry look in her dark eyes. She took her hand away from his pants and walked her fingers up his chest.

He reached into his pocket and brought out the little box. Then he shoved it back into his pocket, feeling suddenly embarrassed. He was glad she was responsible, but it still felt awkward. Like she was the experienced one and he was just a kid eager for his first lay.

“I see you found something to wear to bed.” He sucked in another tormented breath.

“Oh, I have no intention of wearing it to bed.” She chuckled naughtily. “But I didn’t think you’d approve of me seducing you on your parent’s deck wearing nothing at all.” She stretched up onto her toes and snaked her arms about his neck.

She was not wearing a bra. That was for damned sure. Her breasts were soft and pert and her nipples were hard little pebbles teasing his bare flesh. He skimmed his hands down her back to her butt and pressed her firmly against his aching dick. She wasn’t wearing panties either. She was definitely doing the seducing, but he wasn’t fighting very hard. If he wasn’t careful, it would be over before they really got started, and he wanted to make it last. He wanted their first time to be her best ever.

Elena pulled his face down to hers and, a moment later, he wasn’t sure he could be careful. “Elena,” he gasped. “Slow down. We’ve got all night.”

BEFORE STEPPING out onto the deck, Elena had considered a number of ways she could tease Philip and make him forget himself and that he was a gentleman. But the avalanche of sensation he unleashed in her put an end to teasing. Her world spiraled in a dizzying explosion of desire. She lifted her feet from the sun-bleached planking and wrapped her legs about his waist as their tongues danced.

His big hands cradled her bare behind, and the calloused roughness was incredibly arousing. Good thing the condoms were in his pocket because chances were, they were never going to make it to his bedroom.

He strode across the deck and somehow managed to lose his shorts before he sank onto a cushioned chaise with her in his lap. His fingers made short work of the buttons on her borrowed shirt. Then he fumbled briefly with the foil packet before pushing the tails of the shirt out of the way.

“Beautiful,” he rasped as his rough palms closed around her breasts.

Fiery pleasure washed over her and she slid down his thighs until she was pressed against his erection again. She tipped her head back, wanting desperately to have him inside her.

He kissed her neck while his thumbs flicked over her nipples, sending a new wave of urgency flooding through her.

“Please,” she begged.

He grasped her hips and lifted her as a growl of matching need rumbled in his throat. Then, ever so slowly, he lowered her onto himself.

Her climax hit the moment he slid home. She cried out, shuddering under the onslaught. Nothing had ever felt so intense in her whole life. It felt as if he was leaving his mark on her forever. She clung to his shoulders, murmuring his name, as she shattered. She was his.

Chapter 13

February 2015

Camp Lejeune, North Carolina

PHILIP STEPPED into the small waiting room a full half hour early for his physical therapy appointment. He’d had a meeting over in New River, and it hadn’t made sense to return to his office when he wouldn’t have enough time to get anything accomplished.

He opened a copy of
Stars and Stripes
and settled in to wait. A young girl, her feet drawn up beneath her, sat on the seat opposite with a laptop balanced on her knees. Her head was bent, but her eyes weren’t on the laptop. They were studying him beneath finely arched brows. She looked familiar.

“Have we met before?” he asked, refolding the paper and dropping it back on the table beside him.

“I don’t think so.” She tipped her head to one side and even the gesture looked familiar.

“Are you here for rehab?” He hadn’t seen her before, but she could be some jarhead’s kid with a sports injury. She might have been around, and he hadn’t paid close attention.

“Nope. My mom works here. I’m just waiting for her to be done so she can take me shopping.”

Suddenly, Philip realized why she looked familiar. With her hair pulled into a ponytail, the shape of her face seemed very different than it had in the photo with a thick fall of dark curls surrounding it. But it had to be her. Elena’s daughter.

“You must be Julie.” There were hints of her mother about the mouth and in her warm coloring. “Elena Castillo’s daughter?”

A furrow appeared between the girl’s blue eyes. “You know my mom?”

“I’ve known your mom since she was your age.” And he’d known her intimately when she’d grown up. “I hung out with your Uncle Andy mostly, but—”

Julie shut the laptop and folded her arms across it. Her expression was suddenly wary and less friendly.

“You’re the guy who sent the flowers.” It was an accusation. Laced with hostility.

The open antipathy surprised him.

“Why?” she demanded.

“Why what?”

“Why did you send my mother flowers?”

“Because it was her birthday. I thought . . .” At the time, it seemed like a nice gesture to make if they were going to go forward on a friendly note. But for some reason, this girl didn’t appear to agree. “I thought she’d like them.”

“Well, she did.” Julie’s blue gaze didn’t waver, but she seemed to be waging a war between some unknown reason to resent him and good manners.

Philip leaned across the narrow space and extended a hand. “I’m Philip Cameron. It’s nice to meet you.”

The girl hesitated, then manners won out. She placed her hand in his for a brief but surprisingly firm grip. A grip that hurt. He tried not to grimace.

“I understand you’re a west-coast girl.” He searched for something neutral to say to her. “How do you like Jacksonville?”

“It’s not San Diego.”

“Not many places can compete with San Diego,” he agreed pleasantly.

“You ever been there?” The forbidding stiffness lifted a little as she asked the question.

“A few times.” A particular training op with a bunch of Navy SEALS came to mind, followed even less pleasantly by the memory of his brief marriage. “The climate is perfect, but the ocean’s something else. Made me wish I owned a wetsuit.”

“You have to get used to it, I guess.” She shrugged.

“Do you surf?” She looked fit and athletic. The kind of girl who wouldn’t be happy just decorating the beach in a skimpy bikini.

“Of course.” Said as if there couldn’t possibly be any other reasonable answer.

“We’ve got some pretty good places to surf on the east coast, too. Maybe your mom will take you next time you visit Tide’s Way. Or check out the beaches up here.”

“Tide’s Way is too small. There’s nothing there.”

This girl was not happy with having left her childhood home and everything she knew behind. So maybe the vibes he was getting from her weren’t about him or the fact that he’d sent her mother flowers.

“How do you like your new school?” He should just pick the newspaper up and let her go back to her computer, but something made him give friendly interest another try.

“It’s okay.” Julie shrugged. “I like the tennis coach. And the kids on the team are nice.”

Well, that explains the none-too-delicate handshake! How old is this girl, anyway? Did they have tennis teams in elementary school? She seems kind of tall, but Jake says girls mature faster than boys
.

He started doing the math in his head. She couldn’t be more than twelve. He thought he recalled Andy saying Elena had married in the summer of oh two. A stab of jealousy hit him hard.

“I used to play tennis. Back in high school.”

“My dad taught me how to play,” Julie stated with firmness and some underlying intent he couldn’t fathom. Maybe she was just trying to make it clear to Philip that she thought her parents should still be together and Philip was an interloper. That would explain her attitude toward the flowers.

But however much she might want it, reconciliation after a divorce was unlikely. Her allegiance to Eli was admirable, though. He was her father, after all. Philip could hate the guy for stealing Elena, but that wasn’t Julie’s fault.

“How old are you?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I’m almost thirteen. I will be in May, anyway.” Her eyes flashed another warning.

Again, Philip ran numbers through his head. Elena must have returned to school and gone right back to Eli’s bed the week after she left his.
Was that why she stopped writing? She got pregnant and had to get married? And couldn’t face telling me?

The bastard! Of course it was Eli’s fault. Elena had been so careful when she’d hooked up with him, making sure he had condoms before things went too far.

Philip forced his jaw to relax. It was old news. At least she hadn’t lied to him like Holly had.

“I must be hard, leaving your friends behind and starting fresh.”

“You should know.” The words were clipped and accusing.

“I’ve moved a lot. As an adult.” Philip tipped his head to the side to catch her eye. “But not back when I was still in high school. And it was my choice.”

She studied him with that penetrating blue gaze. Then her shoulders sagged slightly.

“This
wasn’t
my choice.” The words were accompanied by a sigh. When Philip didn’t offer a response, she swallowed, dipped her head, then went on.

“Mom didn’t think she had much chance of landing this job, but she really wanted it. For the money and the prestige, I guess. But I think she wanted to get away from Dad, too. Or maybe just away from San Diego. She kept talking about going home. But this isn’t Tide’s Way either. So, now we both have to get used to a whole new place.”

One of the things Philip had always been good at was drawing young men out, helping them to become comfortable in new surroundings. He was a good listener and, after she got started, Julie seemed to forget her bitterness. She shared bits and pieces about her life before and after the divorce, her friends, tennis, surfing, and her home in San Diego.

Her intelligence and sense of humor grew on him now that she’d stopped acting like he was part of her problems. As he listened to her, the enormity of everything he’d lost came back to haunt him.

Eli Tischler had had it all, and he’d screwed it up.