My Sweetest Sasha: Cole's Story (Meadows Shore Book 2) (15 page)

“I know, I can’t believe I was going on and on about tan lines.” She buried her face in her hands. “I felt like an idiot. And I hate manipulation, but it’s for a good cause.” Helena sighed. “Do you think she was on to us?”

“No. She’s not as devious as you apparently are,” Ella said with a smirk.

“Thanks a lot. But, seriously, have you seen the way he looks at her?”

“Mm-hm. Like a man who hasn’t eaten in weeks.”

“Months. If her gorgeous little body in that bathing suit doesn’t bring him to his knees, I don’t know what will.”

* * *

They went out to the beach and set up the blanket and chairs near where the guys were busy preparing the pit for the clambake.

It took Alexa a little while to get comfortable enough to take off her sundress, but when she finally did, the sizzle in the air was palpable.

Sophie and Max were walking toward the beach just when Alexa’s dress came off. “Whose idea was that?” asked Max.

“What?”

“That skimpy bathing suit Alexa’s wearing.”

“How do you know it wasn’t hers?”

“Come on. Meddling again?”

“I had nothing to do with it.”

“Let me guess, Ella?”

“Nope.”

“Juliana?”

“Helena,” Sophie said flashing him a grin.

“Helena? Oh Lainey, sweetheart, not a good idea to play with matches. I’m going over to the pit. It looks like they need a fire extinguisher already.”

Max shook his head as he approached the guys.

“She’s hot, smoking hot,” said Mark.

“Fuck you. Stop leering,” snarled Cole.

“Why do you care how we look at her? You’re the one who keeps saying
it’s not like that
between you. So give it a rest. If I want to ask her out, I will, and if I want to run my tongue over … ”

“Listen, you little son-of-a … ”

Drew wedged himself between Cole and Mark. “What the fuck’s wrong with you? You’ve had a hard-on for her all weekend. You need to figure out how you’re going to take care of it, and I’m telling you, laying a beating on him isn’t going to help.”

“Get your hands off me, asshole.” Cole pushed his brother away and stormed off toward the water.

“And neither is jerking off alone in the shower,” Drew called after him.

“If he was thinking with his large head, he’d see they’re just yanking his chain over there, and hers too. Look at them. They think your brother’s got it bad, but doesn’t have the balls to make the first move,” Max said.

“They’re right. He doesn’t.”

“Don’t tell me. This little drama was a ploy to get him to make a move on her. You’re as bad as they are,” he said motioning toward the sunbathers. “You came this close to getting your face smashed in.”

“I was willing to take the blow. He’s hit me before, I survived,” said Mark taking a swig from a long-necked bottle.

“It’s not like we planned it, the opportunity fell into our lap,” Drew said defensively. “I’m sure they were up all night next door, bickering over which bathing suit she should wear.”

“Those women aren’t the only ones who can see he’s got it bad. It’s so obvious even a bunch of damn fools like us can’t miss it,” said Jake, plopping down in a chair with Brady at his feet.

“It must be genetics. None of you can mind your own business,” said Max.

Will stood and rubbed his hands against each other to brush off the sand. “His business is our business.” He gazed out at the ocean where his older brother was cooling off. “Have you seen him dancing around on his toes all weekend, like a boxer, forcing himself not to strike until he has a clear shot. It’s been painful to watch. Whose bathing suit is that, anyway?”

“Lainey’s,” said Max.

“Lainey’s? No shit,” said Drew, tossing a piece of driftwood into the fire.

* * *

Fortunately, the sun went down and the evening cooled considerably, requiring everyone to put on some additional clothing.

After dinner Cole grabbed Alexa’s hand and led her up the beach, much to the delight of everyone named Clayton and Harrington. But while they stole glances at one another, no one uttered a single word, too afraid they’d scare off Cole.

“Thought you could use a break from my obnoxious family,” he said.

“Your family’s great. It’s been an incredible weekend … I’m sad it’s coming to an end.”

When they were far enough up the beach that they couldn’t be seen, he plopped down on the sand, pulling her down with him. She sat between his legs, her back resting against him, facing the ocean that seemed to go on forever. It was an almost starless sky, with a crescent moon casting light over the water, making it shimmer in the darkness. The only sounds were an occasional squeal from down the beach, and the incoming tide crashing against the shore. It was the perfect night to snuggle on the sand.

“It must’ve been wonderful growing up here, with the sound of the waves lulling you to sleep. I’d keep my window open every night.”

“This beach has been my salvation, it’s a part of who I am—I love it. Next time you’re here, we’ll take the sailboat out to the islands.”

She shivered from a passing breeze, and he pulled her closer until she was nestled firmly against his erection. But he didn’t care anymore, didn’t care if she knew how much he wanted her.

The breeze was long gone, but she was still trembling.

“Cold?” he said as he tightened his arms around her, cocooning her with his body. “Alexa?”

She turned her head and looked up at him, they were so close their lips nearly touched. Before he could pull himself back, he lowered his head and captured her mouth with his. His heart thundered, and hers was galloping too. His kisses became urgent, insistent, and she parted her lips, letting him slip inside. She clung to him, moaning softly into his mouth, like she wanted the kiss to go on forever.

They slid lower into the sand until they were both lying facing each other, with little space between them. “I want you, baby. So much. I want to lose myself in your gorgeous body until neither of us can tell where you begin and I end. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he said between hungry kisses.

“I want you, too. So much it makes me ache, deep inside,” she murmured into his neck.

“Grrrrr.” A tortured growl rumbled in his chest, sounding like it belonged to a wounded animal unable to find a reprieve from its misery. “We can’t,” he whispered into her hair. “Not here.”

She needed him, needed him so much she was willing to cast aside any reservations about a one-night fling. He wasn’t a stranger. She’d spent six weeks with him, day and night. She knew him better than many women knew men they’d dated for months.

She caressed his cheek. “Let me stay with you tonight.”

* * *

Cole hands skated over her body, not lingering anywhere, not yet, not until he explored every inch of her. Not until he could close his eyes and remember, not until her curves were imprinted on his DNA, so he could recall the feel of her anytime, anywhere.

He searched her face, and the need he found there echoed his own. Her eyes were dark and hooded, her body hot and pliant against his. There was nothing he wanted more, nothing he’d ever wanted more than to carry her to his bed and make love to her all night, love her until she’d had her fill of him.

“We can’t sweetheart, not here.” He choked out the words, pulling her closer, his body throbbing between them, wildly out of control. He rocked with her in the sand, trying to soothe the aching need. It was all he could give her tonight. All he could give himself.

There was no damn way he’d bring her into the house with his brothers there, snickering and making lewd gestures behind his back. His grandmother was right, she wasn’t the kind of girl you sneaked in the side door and up the stairs. No, she wasn’t, not to him.

He wanted privacy, complete privacy, for their first time. He wanted to explore every crevice, dip into every valley of her luscious body. He wanted to savor her, drag her slowly over the edge, hear her whimpers, moans, screams, whatever brought her the greatest pleasure, and he didn’t want her to spend one nanosecond worrying about what some jackass might hear. He didn’t want her holding anything back. He wanted her lost in sensation until she collapsed in his arms.

“We should go back. I don’t trust myself to be alone with you anymore,” he said running his hands up and down her arms.

They walked back toward the Claytons’ house, avoiding the stragglers around the bonfire. Neither said much, focusing their energies on bringing their breathing and their bodies under better control.

* * *

Alexa wasn’t entirely sure what had transpired on the beach. One minute having sex seemed inevitable, and the next he was shunning her advances. But she wasn’t embarrassed she’d asked to stay with him. That was the beauty of Cole … there was never any shame over an honest moment with him.

She knew he wanted her, she’d felt the evidence pressed against her tailbone, and he’d kissed her like … well, like she’d always dreamed he’d kiss her. For weeks she’d yearned for those steamy kisses, with lips firm and insistent, their tongues tangling until they could scarcely breathe.

There was no one more disciplined than Cole, and if it wasn’t right, he wouldn’t take her, no matter how many times she offered. That’s what her heart told her. But her head had a different take: if he’d wanted her, really wanted her, he wouldn’t be denied. Something held him back. Regardless of whether she listened to her heart or her head, tonight wasn’t her night. Maybe it would never be her night.

* * *

When she woke the next morning, Cole was gone. Christian died during the night, and he’d left to be with Clarisse and the kids.

Call if there’s anything I can do. Thinking of you
, she texted.

Sophie will take u home,
he replied.

And that’s all she heard from him.

Cole surveyed the congregation from the lectern, preparing to deliver the eulogy for his friend. His brothers were there, all of them, sitting shoulder to shoulder, an impenetrable wall, with Alexa tucked safely between them. Although they all knew the McKennas, and came to pay their respects, Cole recognized they were there as much for him as for anyone else.

He remembered the last time he’d been tasked with delivering a eulogy. How he’d stood at the pulpit near Sophie, staring at the papers in front of him, unable to read the words. They were a blur, and, too overcome with emotion to speak off the cuff, he just stood there until Will joined them. Will didn’t miss a beat. Placing a hand on Cole’s back, he read the words they’d all so lovingly crafted about their mother and father. He’d been so relieved for his brother’s help that when Will finished, Cole hugged him right there in front of the entire congregation.

Now he’d been called on to do it again. This time he wouldn’t let anyone down.

And he didn’t.

* * *

Alexa was relieved to be sitting with Cole’s brothers. Mark had approached while she searched for a seat, and led her to the pew where they all sat. She didn’t know if they’d been friends with Christian too, or if, like her, they were here to support Cole.

He delivered a eulogy so powerful it made her weep—for Christian, for Clarisse, and for their children, who were far too young to remember their dad. But mostly she wept for Cole, for the friendship he’d lost, and the pain he endured. His voice cracked more than once, but he soldiered on until he finished honoring his friend.

At the end of the service she watched him take his place by the casket with the rest of pallbearers, flanking Christian’s body while it was wheeled from the church.

When they started down the aisle, a child’s voice called, “Cole, I wanna go with Daddy, too. I wanna go, too.” Cole stopped, and lifted Noah from his mother’s arms and carried him alongside his father’s casket.

“Shhh,” Noah said, lifting a pudgy finger to his mouth. “Daddy’s sleeping.”

* * *

After the funeral, Cole went back to the hospital to clear out Christian’s desk. He didn’t care who moved the books off the shelves or the medical supplies, but he wanted to go through Christian’s personal belongings before they were boxed up and sent home to Clarisse.

He went through the drawers in an orderly manner, packing every item into a non-descript cardboard container. When he reached the bottom drawer he found an opened box of condoms. He looked for the expiration date, hoping it had been stamped a decade before.
I know you kept these for when Clarisse visited. Dammit Christian! You loved her. I know you did. You must’ve been in a real bad place, somewhere near hell, because I know that’s the only way you’d have ever touched another woman.

He crushed the condom box and shoved it into his jacket pocket. Then he took the lab coat off the back of the door and ran his fingers along the embroidered letters
Christian McKenna, MD.
He folded the white coat neatly and placed it in the box, and carefully laid the photos of Clarisse, Noah, and baby Sarah on top.

* * *

The rest of his day turned out to be long and grueling. Several people had taken the time off to attend the funeral, and Cole didn’t want to push anyone who felt they couldn’t, to come in after the service. They were short on help, but there was no shortage of grisly cases coming through the emergency room. The pace was exhausting, requiring every ounce of energy he could summon just to function. It was long after two in the morning before he left the operating room.

He glanced at the clock, too late to call Alexa. He needed her. She was like a triple shot of caffeine when his energy flagged, but aside from the funeral, he hadn’t seen her in days, not since before Christian died. They’d talked on the phone some, texted, but it wasn’t the same. Not seeing her taxed his resources and drained the energy from him like a leaky valve, slowly emptying every reserve. He missed her, missed her more than he cared to admit.

When he went up to crash on the sofa in his office for a few hours, he passed Tom Hagel and Joe Girard on the stairs headed to the operating room. Tom rarely performed surgery anymore, but they were so short-staffed he’d come in to assist on a case. It was nearly three am, and they were there like it was the middle of the day. He was sure they had no one waiting for them, and nowhere better to be. It wasn’t a life they led, it was an existence, not all that different from the one he’d been leading
.
At least he hadn’t dragged anyone else into the abyss with him. Not yet.

Both Tom and Joe had been through nasty divorces. He wondered how many times they’d phoned their wives to say, “I’m leaving the hospital,” only to be paged back in before they left the parking lot because some asshole had gotten behind the wheel drunk as a skunk and left bodies in his wake. He wondered how many birthdays, anniversaries, family suppers, and soccer games they’d missed before they’d been kicked to the curb. Too many. It was a lousy way to live—not good for a marriage, and certainly not good for children.

Over the last few weeks, he’d become so attached to Alexa he tried convincing himself she wouldn’t mind when he came home sullen, licking his wounds. Or that she’d be happy with a few stolen hours between cases.
What a joke
. He’d never be satisfied with that kind of life either. But he’d been willing to kid himself, indulge in ridiculous fantasies because he needed her, needed her badly. But what he really needed, for her sake and ultimately for his, was to grow a pair and walk away.

* * *

He left the hospital about an hour and a half later, having barely slept a wink. Picked up a couple of coffees and headed over to Alexa’s apartment. He called her from outside the building and woke her up. “I know it’s very early, but I need to talk to you.”

She let him in, and, still dressed in her pajamas with sleep in her eyes, she sat at the tiny kitchen table. He stood. Actually, he paced.

“I know we’re supposed to celebrate your birthday tonight. The birthday I already missed once. But I can’t. I led you on. Promised you dates, kissed you, thought about sleeping with you all the time. But I guess you never knew about that part until now,” he rambled.

She braced herself for what she could feel coming.

“I wanted you for me, but I don’t have anything to give you. Not a thing. If you wanted money, if you wanted to spend every birthday alone, wanted what’s left of me at the end of a shitty day, along with an endless supply of broken promises, then I’d be your guy. We don’t have a future. I’d like to be friends, because I really like you … I
really
like you … but honestly, I don’t think I can do it right now.”

She reached for his hand and he jerked it away so suddenly, so harshly, it left her reeling. And he ran from the apartment like the building was about to implode.

After he was gone, she moved through the motions, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, and then the next. She filled the kettle with water and went to put it on the stove, but before she could, it slipped from her trembling hands, and crashed to the floor, leaving a deep gash along the side.

She’d wanted honesty from him, but now she wished he’d told her lies instead. Pretended he loved her and that they would work things out.

But he hadn’t.

She wanted to call in sick, hide under the covers with tissues for company, but she couldn’t. She had a meeting with Chet first thing this morning. So she talked herself into the shower and let the warm water pour over her. She was numb, her chest so tight it was painful to breathe. The sobs shook her from head to toe, and she only forced herself out of the shower when the water turned to ice.