Finding Haven (16 page)

“Whoa, killer. Hold on.” Jay steadied her. “You ok?”

Embarrassed, she smiled. “Yes. What’s the vote on food? I need some. Sorry, I don’t
have raw meat to throw on the fire.”

“You liked that dinner. Don’t deny it.” His hand had moved from her arm to the small
of her back. His eyes dipped to the base of her throat, and she wondered if he was
thinking about last night. All of a sudden, she was.

“I— Yeah, I did.” His eyes locked on her, and she struggled to remember which direction
to turn for the kitchen. She looked at his full lips, and the chiseled line of his
jaw. If she stared long enough, maybe the porch wouldn’t spin as much or maybe he
would kiss her again. She was hoping for the kiss.

“Can I help you?” He stepped away, but kept his palm firmly planted on her back. She
wanted him to lean in again.

“Yes, pasta and we might need some more wine.” She didn’t care if she had already
passed her two-glass limit for work nights. They were having fun, and the words really
did flow when he was around.

“Show me the way.” Jay turned her toward the door, and she led him inside the apartment.

She pulled a bottle from the wine rack and handed it to him. “Here you go. I’ll let
you wrestle with the cork while I start the pasta.” Haven filled a pot with water
and lit the match on the gas stove.

She and Jay worked seamlessly together in the kitchen. He poured them each a full
glass of wine and chopped a cucumber for the salad. Usually, she did the bare minimum
for dinner, but now that she had a guest, she decided to take her cooking up a notch.
She crumbled bacon into a frying pan, and started a cream sauce in another pot. This
had reached a whole new level of entertaining.

After they had devoured two servings and finished the wine, Jay took the plates to
the sink and grabbed the bottle. He returned to the deck, where Haven had picked up
her guitar again. She settled on the wicker loveseat that faced the ocean. The salt
air helped clear her head.

“I just had an idea.”

“Ok, hit me. What is it?” He looked interested.

“I reworded the entire verse. There’s no ‘bunk’ in this version. Instead, it should
go something like...” She strummed a few notes. “
I can’t stop getting drunk on your kisses, so don’t hand me tears, I want this
.
Don’t try to resist.”

She looked up at Jay. He placed the wine bottle on the deck and reached forward. Haven
didn’t know what he was doing, but she felt the guitar slip from her grasp as he pulled
it away and laid it down. From her porch, she could always hear the waves on the beach
and the boats rocking in their slips, but right now, all the sounds were muffled as
he leaned toward her pressing his mouth against hers.

She clutched at his shoulders and brought him close to her, tasting the wine on his
tongue. He was making her drunk, and every part of her told her to stop resisting
and enjoy the way he made her feel.

It didn’t take long to realize he wasn’t going to fit on the loveseat. He was half-kneeling
on the deck. Haven nudged her way to the side, and without saying anything, she reached
for his hand and led him into the apartment. It all seemed too bright after the darkness
of the deck. She flipped the lights off. Jay grabbed her from behind, and pushed her
hair to the side so he could kiss her neck. She spun in his arms, searching for his
mouth. She needed those lips. They were beyond kissable.

He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her against him. Immediately, she wrapped her
legs around him, squeezing hard against him. She didn’t know if it was because he
didn’t know his way around the apartment, or because it was almost completely dark,
but he moved two paces to the kitchen table and sat her on the edge before tearing
at the buttons on her shirt.

She heard them hit the table and scatter on the floor one by one. The edge of his
T-shirt was soft in her palms as she slid it upward, taking her time to trace the
hard bulges of the muscles wrapping his torso. His eyes no longer looked lost; they
were full of lust and longing. Longing for her. Using her heels, she dug into his
firm backside, pushing him forward and rocking her center enough to send a surge of
ache pulsating through her body. Why were they still mostly dressed?

Keeping her eyes on his gaze, she eased back on her arms, giving him a full view of
what she knew he wanted. She felt the fire of his breath on her navel as she unwound
her legs, allowing him to move on his own. He skimmed her stomach with his fingers,
taking his time until he had her breast in his hand.

“Yes.” She moaned and arched against the wood of the table. She wasn’t sure what she
was yessing, but she liked that he was touching her and he wasn’t being gentle. He
was taking what he wanted. Like she was.

His broad shoulders loomed over her as he pushed the fabric covering her nipples out
of the way and seized her with his mouth. She writhed under the torture. It was hot
and sent a rush straight to the sensitive spot between her legs.

She reached around his waist and found the button to his shorts. Pressed against him
like this, she could tell he was just as turned on as she was. She slipped a hand
along his stomach and reached below his waist.

“Oh, God.” He moaned, biting harder on her nipple. Haven whimpered.

And just like that he stopped. He stepped away from the table and turned his back
to her.

Her shirt lay ripped open, her breasts wet from his mouth, and her chest heaving from
hotness she had never known. Everything in her was aching for more. It hurt. Her body
hurt.

“Why-why did you stop?” she whispered.

His forehead was pressed against the wall. Flashes of moonlight rippled across his
back.

He sighed. “Dammit. I promised myself I wasn’t going to do that to you again.”

Now she was totally confused. Since when did guys stop in the middle of a hot hookup?
It was like the Travis fiasco all over again, but so much worse. “But I want you to.”
She tried to close her shirt without buttons. It wasn’t that easy.

He turned to face her. “Yeah, I liked it too.” He kissed the top of her forehead,
a gesture she didn’t know whether to interpret as sweet or condescending.

“So, what’s the problem?” It was meant to be a rhetorical question. She could answer
all the possible issues with two people having crazy, off the charts sex after knowing
each other for only two days, but she didn’t really want to hear it after a bottle
and a half of wine.

“Darlin’, we need to slow this down. You are sexy and beautiful, don’t misunderstand.”

Haven refrained from pouting, but really that’s all she wanted to do. She was completely
worked up. Each nerve in her body was on fire and ached. There was no doubt what she
wanted from him. If he would only let her, she could show him it would be ok.

“Ok, so explain some more.” She decided to let go of the grip she had on her shirt.
The fabric fell to the sides, and she heard him sigh as her breasts heaved against
the exposure. It wasn’t fair to do to him, but her body was working in survival mode.
It needed him.

“My life is complicated right now. It’s not a great idea to start jumping into bed
with pretty girls. Ok?”

Pretty girls? The way he said it made her wonder how many others there were. Was there
a waiting list? Of course he was gorgeous and no doubt could flirt his way into any
woman’s bed, but she didn’t want doubts to start fogging her mind. They had something
real. She could feel it.

She closed the distance between them. “But what about kissing? Is this ok?” She traced
the side of his face, pulling him to her lips, the sides of her shirt open as she
pressed into his chest, making sure he felt the hardness of her nipples grazing against
him. He exhaled.

She felt him react as his tongue moved deeper in her mouth. She kept her hands along
his smooth jaw. Slowly, he eased one hand along her back and the other crept along
her chest, resting along her breast. She had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to stay
away. Careful not to whimper this time, she moaned lightly as he massaged the center
of her breast. Her mouth parting, sucking, and eager for him.

They stood stroking, teasing, and kissing each other against the wall until Haven
heard the crickets on her alarm chirp.

“Dammit,” she murmured. Her lips were swollen, and her legs unsteady from standing
all night. However, she didn’t want to move; she didn’t want to stop kissing him.

Two seconds later, a second chorus of crickets started. “You too?” She looked at him.

“Yep. Crickets.” He braced himself against the wall and played with her hair.

“So, we found a way
not
to have sex all night long.” Haven giggled and traced her fingers over his chest.

He kissed her again on the mouth. “Looks like we did.” He closed his eyes. “What would
my boss think if I called in sick today?”

She laughed. “Uh-uh. No way. You kept me up just as much.” Even though they were both
still wearing shorts, she had lost her shirt some time during the make out session.
It was next to her on the floor. She reached to pick it up. It would need a full button
repair.

Jay stepped toward the kitchen table and picked his T-shirt from the floor.

“Hey, would you mind if I jumped in the shower before work? Won’t be longer than seven
minutes.”

Haven smiled. “Yeah, sure. It’s right through there.” She motioned to her bedroom.
They hadn’t made it past the kitchen wall last night.

She wasn’t really complaining. It was a first. Having sex was an intimate experience.
To share that side of herself with someone was personal. It should be special, but
the night with Jay felt more intimate than anything she had experienced in her entire
life. She brushed her finger across her lips. They would certainly be bruised from
his kisses, but she loved how they felt. Every tender, rough, possessive, and gentle
one he gave.

E
VAN PLACED
beer bottles into the racks inside the walk-in fridge. It was forty-five degrees
in the freezer, and since he didn’t get a cold shower this morning, this was doing
the trick. He needed to be cooled to the bone.

If he looked through the rows of brown bottles, he could see Haven at the register
ringing up one of the beach customers. She was smiling at a mother and her three children
loaded with plastic buckets and sandcastle molds. It looked like the kids were squabbling
over who got to carry the shovels versus the sand pails.

Last night was a first, an absolute first. A flat tire turned into something he couldn’t
describe. The wine on her lips, the music floating off her tongue took hold of him
like he was a man gone crazy. He was going on three weeks at the campground. Maybe
he couldn’t handle lonely like he thought he could. He tried to remember the last
time he had spent the night with a girl and only made out with her. It was probably
high school. He closed his eyes, and for a second, he felt her skin under his hands,
warm and soft.

“Son?” Evan jolted upright at the sound of a man’s voice.

“Yes, sir.” He stacked empty boxes on the dolly. There were at least half a dozen
more to unpack.

“My daughter tells me you’re the new hire. Welcome to Owen’s.” The white-haired man
Evan recognized as the one who got into the argument with Haven stepped into the cooler
to shake his hand.

“Yes, I am. This is my third day.” He wondered why he hadn’t seen the store’s owner
before now. “You have a great business here. Thanks for having me on.”

“I’m real surprised Haven was able to find someone so quickly. Where are you from?”

Evan had been careful to dodge as many questions as he could, but he knew the more
he immersed himself in Perry Island life, the more likely it was that people were
going to keep asking normal get-to-know-you questions.

“Originally from Texas, sir, but most recently I’ve been living in Atlanta.”

“Is that right? I’ve always wanted to take a trip to Texas. Been to Atlanta before.
What part?”

“East Texas, a small town called Brees. Funny, Perry Island reminds me of home a lot.”

“How so?” Mr. Owen opened one of the cardboard boxes for Evan and started passing
him a few of the beer bottles for the next section.