Barefoot at Moonrise (Barefoot Bay Timeless Book 2) (2 page)

“Excuse me, Chrissie, but I—”

“Hey, ladies, why’d you slip away?” Another man approached, much shorter than Ken and with way less hair. He threw a look at Ken, who gladly stepped away to let him flirt with the women. The whole thing took two seconds, long enough for him to lose sight of Beth.

Damn it. He made a few comments, shook a hand, threw out one more excuse, and finally got away, muscling through the rest of the crowd to reach the side exit that led out to a large wooden deck.

But it was empty, with no sign of Beth.

Swallowing a dark curse, he took a few steps toward the railing, and then spotted a pair of red and white high heels tucked by the stairs that led to the sand.

He couldn’t help smiling, because, hell, this was better than Cinderella.

All he had to do was follow the footprints in the sand.

* * *

Timeless.

Beth gave a wry smile as she thought of the reunion theme that had permeated the entire Mimosa High all-class reunion. Plastered on posters, written on ribbons, and etched into the champagne glasses they got to take home…one word.
Timeless
.

What did that even mean? That the years that had passed didn’t matter? That the clock stood still when two people made heart-hammering eye contact? Or that time…had run out.

Because it had, at least where Ken Cavanaugh was concerned.

When he’d walked into the first reunion-planning meeting a week ago, she actually gasped audibly. She had no idea he was on the planning committee, too. Why would he have volunteered for that? Could it have been he saw her name on the committee list? That seemed unlikely, but she couldn’t help entertaining the possibility.

She’d tried to forget their ugly breakup when he was a senior and she was a sophomore and treat him like another one of the very few men—three, to be exact—on the reunion-planning committee. Okay, a man who’d aged well. Ridiculously well. Like, whoa, he was hotter now than he was in high school, and he’d been damn nice-looking as a boy.

Until he dumped her on a miserable, rainy afternoon and said hateful, hurtful things about her family. Well, her father. Of course, as an adult, it was easy to understand why. His father had died in his arms, for God’s sake, on a job site owned and operated by Endicott Development Corporation. Her last name would be a constant reminder of how much he hated Ray Endicott.

She might have even talked to Ken this week, since he acted warm and friendly, almost as if nothing had happened. But during the course of the first meeting, she could feel her whole being respond to Ken the way she had as a fifteen-year-old girl—with a fiery, undeniable attraction. Then she heard the rumors of what kind of guy he was and what he was looking for in life, and she knew she should keep her distance and protect her heart from falling for a guy who wanted…something she could never give him.

So she purposely had missed a lot of meetings and acted distracted and distant when she had to be around him. That left tonight, the big reunion event at Casa Blanca Resort & Spa, which was far enough along that she could call it a night. When the old couple twirled for the last time, she slipped out, ready to end this week and get back to her normal, if lonely, routine.

Inhaling the salted air, Beth let cool sand sift through her toes as she wandered closer to the water. The sky over Barefoot Bay had turned a magical deep purple around a dramatic full moon rising over the horizon, its silvery path glinting on the water. To her left, a row of yellow tented cabanas lined the beach. These were usually lit by tiny white lights and used for romantic cocktails and private parties of two, but all the guests at the resort were in the ballroom judging the Dance of the Decades contest.

So the secluded shelters were dark and empty.

Beth stepped to the open drapes of the cabana farthest from the resort, squinting inside to spy a chaise lounge the size of a queen-size bed, with half a dozen pillows. She felt a little like Goldilocks, but couldn’t resist the inviting resting place, which offered comfort, solitude, and a view of that breathtaking moon overhead casting a silver spell on the waves of Barefoot Bay.

As she exhaled, she tried to rid herself of everything stressful or unsettling, distracting or unbalancing.

Like…Ken Cavanaugh.

Oh, he’d been the talk of plenty of women who’d come early to help plan the reunion. How could he not be? Single, sexy, and silver enough to look like he lived life to the fullest.

She closed her eyes and drifted back years and years.

I could love you, Beth. I could love you forever. But I can never be in the same room as your father and not want to kill him. He’s the devil, don’t you see? So, this is it.

She’d never forgotten his last words.
This is it.

This is it? She remembered how much she wanted to scream the question back in his face, but she’d been drenched by a downpour and crushed by his fury. Instead, she’d stared at him, watched him walk away through the rain, while she was left…shattered.

And here they were, twenty-five years later.

Leaning back on the pillows, she crossed her legs, locking her hands behind her head to think about him. His boyishly cute features had morphed into handsome lines, strong bones, and shoulders that never—

“Knock, knock.”

She sucked in soft breath and popped up, blinking at the sight of…those very shoulders.

“Ken?” His name came out a little breathless.

“Am I interrupting your escape from a reunion from hell?”

Her heart rate tripled. “Not at all,” she said. “I just needed some air.”

“Want some company?”

And then it felt like her heart actually stopped for a moment, along with time. Pressing her hand to her chest, she considered all the possible, polite ways to say no.

“Yes.” It was all that would come out.

He took a step inside, nearly as tall as the heavy yellow drape that hung over them and all around. Forget the air. The minute he was in the cabana, it all seemed to be gone. Space was tight. And suddenly the tropical air smelled spicy and masculine.

She inched up, but he held out his hand. “Stay there. You look comfortable.”

Very slowly, she eased back on the cushions, aware of every cell tingling.

He sat on the edge of the chaise at the bottom, not far from her feet. “I’ve been wanting a chance to talk to you all week.”

She managed a steady breath. “Yeah?”

“So I followed you.”

“That’s…a little stalkery,” she said on a surprisingly nervous laugh.

“Not really.” He lightly tapped her toes, the split second of contact searing her skin as effectively as his admission. “I was hoping that you left your shoes and a trail in the sand on purpose.”

She hadn’t…or maybe she had. Maybe that was her subconscious calling card and invitation to him. Deep in her heart, she wanted this moment more than anything, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

“So you tracked me like the Eagle Scout you once were,” she said.

He laughed, sounding pleased she remembered. “And now I’m a firefighter, which some might say is the grown-up version of an Eagle Scout.”

“You
are
grown up,” she said on a soft sigh.

He ruffled his hair. “The white stuff started showing up in my late thirties. I blame the stressful job,” he said. “I should probably do something about it.”

“Something like change the color? Are you out of your mind? It’s…”
Gorgeous. Sexy. Hot as hell.
“Nice,” she managed.

He jutted his chin in acknowledgment of the compliment, letting his gaze drift over her like he couldn’t control where his eyes wanted to go. “You grew up pretty good, too, Beth.”

The way he said it, with a little longing and lust, sent a blast of heat through her. “Oh, I…have hit the big 4-0.” She tried to keep it light, but nothing she was feeling was…light. Her limbs were suddenly heavy, and each breath was a battle. Ken had done that to her as a teenager every time he leaned in for a kiss. She could only imagine what he could do to a forty-year-old woman who hadn’t had a date in years.

She’d always wanted Ken in the most primal way. At fifteen, it made her uncomfortable and scared and curious…and she’d said no every time their make-out sessions got too heated. But now…kissing him would still make her uncomfortable, but in the best possible way.

He placed his hand on the other side of her crossed ankles and leaned over her. The position was casual, comfortable, and made her whole lower half clutch from the mere proximity of him. “You sure have been tough to nail down this week.”

“I’ve been a little distracted, sorry. I tried to give that planning committee my all, but I had some work stuff I was dealing with.” It wasn’t a lie, but she certainly hadn’t been
swamped
this past week. She realized early on that it would be best if she avoided Ken.

He inched closer and let the hint of a smile pull at his lips. “Is that your excuse for missing the all-important arranging of the floral centerpieces that you so kindly signed us up for?”

She’d signed them up in a moment of weakness and hope, before she’d heard rumors about what he wanted in his life. “I had something…unexpected come up.”

“Ah, I see. The house-flipping business?” he prodded.

So he’d been asking about her, too. Or maybe he looked her up before the reunion even started. Or looked up her father, a possibility that made her stomach drop with bad memories.

“Yes,” she said vaguely. “That’s my business.”

“Like those people on HGTV?” he asked.

“Only it takes more than a half hour to renovate a house.”

He nodded, both of them falling silent for a second, giving the other one a chance to talk. Finally, he said, “Do you work for, uh, your dad’s company?”

Yep. Her father. Ken still hated him and blamed him, of course.

“I don’t work for my dad,” she said. “I own my own company and run my own business.”

She could have sworn his shoulders relaxed a little. They needed to avoid that topic. “So, how’s your life, Ken?” she asked. “Are you…married?” She knew he was divorced, but didn’t want to make it that obvious she’d talked about him with other people that week.

“Single,” he said. “Though I was married for a while. It didn’t work out.” He put a casual hand on her ankle, then lifted it as if he realized he shouldn’t have. “I heard you’re divorced, too.”

But he didn’t seem to mind her knowing that he’d been asking about her. “Yeah, I am. No kids, though.”

“No kids for me, either.” There was just enough sadness in his voice to tell her that the rumors she’d overheard about Ken wanting a family were probably true. Still, she had to be sure.

“Sounds like you wanted them.”

“I do,” he said. Present tense, she noted with another painful swallow. “I’d love to have kids,” he added, unwittingly hammering the nail into her heart a little harder. “What about you?”

She’d have loved to have kids, too. But that ship had sailed…and sunk. “No, none for me.”

He angled over her a little bit. “Really?” he said. “I would have thought you…well. I guess I imagined you’d want to have kids.”

She had. Desperately. “Well, I don’t, and I’m forty years old.”

“So? You could adopt.” Damn it, he sounded hopeful. She shifted, then started to push up.

“Don’t leave,” he said, holding out his hand to stop her. “I’ve wanted to talk to you all week. It’s the whole reason I volunteered for that stupid planning committee.”

It was? “Why?”

“I wanted…” He placed his hand on her bare foot. “I have…something important to say to you.” He caressed her skin, as if talking involved…touching.

She tried to swallow, but failed. During those few seconds, neither spoke. In only moonlight, she could see his dark eyes and thick lashes, and an unreadable emotion.

She braced herself for the worst. The accusations. The lawsuit that never happened. The blame. The family hate. “Okay,” she whispered, ready for whatever may come.

“Okay,” he repeated, as if getting his thoughts—and nerve—together. “I know it’s twenty-five years late, but, man, I…acted like a complete jerk. I said stuff I shouldn’t have. I blamed you for things that weren’t your fault. And I…I threw away a damn great girlfriend.” His voice cracked a little, and he looked as if he might want to avert his eyes, but refused to. “I want to apologize, Beth. I want to say that…I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

She let out a long, slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding for…well, for two and a half decades.

Her heart folded as she reached over and touched the empty space beside her. “Lie down next to me, Kenny. I’d love to put that dark past behind us.”

Chapter Two

It was easy to accept the invitation, sliding up the oversized chaise to get next to her. “Only you,” Ken said softly as he dropped his head on one of many pillows, facing her.

“Only me what?”

“Can call me Kenny.” He gave in to a smile. “And make me like it.”

“It suits you, even with your salt-and-pepper hair and a few laugh lines around your eyes.” She reached out and touched his cheek with a featherlight fingertip that nearly shocked him. “At least, I hope those lines are from laughter.”