Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel (23 page)

“Really?” Nat’s beer cup hung in midair. “Bayberry Island could use something like that. Shit, it sounds a whole lot better than a big casino hotel and golf resort—that’s for sure.”

Ash stared. He thought his head might explode. Knowing he needed to stay cool, he looked down at his bare feet moving through the sand, but Ravelle was too quick.

“Oh man. I’m sorry for poking around like that. You’re here looking for a site for your nonprofit, aren’t you? Is it a hush-hush sort of thing?”

Ash knew that how he responded to this question would impact his relationship with Rowan, her family, and everyone who called the island their home. He knew that he couldn’t show the rush of excitement, ideas, and to-dos that now flooded his brain.

“No.” He looked at Ravelle and shook his head. “It hadn’t even occurred to me, to tell you the truth. My sailboat broke down and I had to be towed in. Oceanaire was the last thing on my mind when I set foot on Bayberry.”

“Oh.” Ravelle shrugged, looking disappointed. “Hey, it was a thought. It’s none of my business, really.”

The men returned to the dance floor and decided to switch partners for the last dance. As Ash spun Annie around, his mind short-circuited with a thousand questions and ideas about how he could bring Oceanaire’s institute to Bayberry Island. Nat was right—it just might be a perfect fit. The foundation needed a new home, room to grow. And the island needed something to revive the economy. No, an education and research facility wouldn’t bring in anywhere near the revenue of a huge resort, but it also wouldn’t destroy the quaint and quirky nature of the island. And, most important, the landowners along the cove would still get the payday they needed. Ash would see to it that they received fair market compensation for their valuable property.

“You seem out to sea, Ash,” Annie said over the sound system.

He snapped to attention. “I’m sorry.”

Annie tipped her head and looked up at him. “You really like her, don’t you?”

“I really do.” Ash twirled Annie around playfully, thinking how he wished he could run to Rowan and tell her all about the brilliant idea of bringing Oceanaire to Bayberry Island. But he knew he couldn’t. That decision wasn’t his to make alone. It required a vote from the board of directors and James’s approval. Besides, he didn’t want to get Rowan’s hopes up only to let her down. Another disappointment was the last thing she needed.

As he completed the series of twirls, Annie began laughing. “You’re quite the dancer, Mr. Wallace.”

“It’s easy when you have a lovely and accomplished partner,” he said, grinning at her. Ash was glad he had a chance to get to know Annie. He wanted Rowan’s best friend’s seal of approval, and for no other reason than Annie was important to Rowan and Rowan was important to him. It felt wonderful to have no ulterior motives. But Annie was easy to get along with—he had to admit that the queen of mermaid porn was a lot of fun.

As soon as the song ended, the two couples walked together up the beach steps and through the sprawling lawn of the bed-and-breakfast. They said good night near the circular drive with a round of hugs and handshakes.

Ash stood at Rowan’s side, her hand in his. It was nearly midnight. He didn’t want to presume anything. He had no idea how tired she was, what she was thinking, or how slow she wanted to take this. He knew only that he’d been picturing her naked in that nice bed of hers for hours and he would be one poor excuse of a man if he didn’t give it a shot.

As their friends passed through the fallen gates, Ash squeezed Rowan’s hand tighter. “So.”

“So.” She squeezed his.

“I hope you don’t find me forward, Miss Flynn.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

“But I must admit something.”

“Please do.”

He looked down into her face. “I hope to have such a wild night with you that I shall require fresh bed linens in the morning.”

She giggled. “Anything to make your stay a pleasant one, Mr. Wallace.”

*   *   *

Mona remained perfectly still long after the young couples left the beach. She’d been sitting at that same table at the edges of the clambake for hours now. Clancy stopped by to check on her several times before he had to leave. Frasier had given her a half dozen scalding looks, which she surely appreciated. And since Rowan’s little outburst hadn’t exactly gone unnoticed, Izzy, Abby, Darinda, and Polly had joined her for a beer, trying to cheer her up. But now the beach crowd was thinning out and the caterers were packing up. The moon, done with its arc over the beach, was in hiding beyond the bluff and beginning its journey across the mainland.

Mona looked at her fingers laced together on the tabletop. She was getting to be an old lady. Her knuckles were swollen with arthritis, more painful than ever these days. Her nails were brittle, and her skin was crinkly. Her life had gone by too fast, faster than the moon’s sweep across the beach on an August night. And now the light was fading.

The day she gave birth to Rowan was one of the happiest of her life. Mona recalled in great detail the delight she felt bringing a pretty little bundle of femininity back home to the island. How she’d enjoyed watching Rowan grow into the spirited, smart girl who butted heads with her at every opportunity. The day she graduated from Tufts, Mona had been filled to the brim with pride and happiness for her daughter.

By that time, Duncan had long since found his stride in the world, leaving his tough early years far behind. And Clancy, in typical easygoing fashion, was well on his way to pursuing his dream, too. So for Mona to see her daughter blossom into an accomplished and hardworking young woman was a profound honor; it was the crowning glory of the years she’d spent as a mother.

And who was Mona now? Not a wife. Not a mother. Not a grandmother. Not an innkeeper. And certainly not a beloved neighbor. Mona’s sole purpose was to corral an unruly group of “ladies of a certain age” and keep them on point in their service to the legend of the Great Mermaid.

It was a thankless job. She knew many people, including her own children, saw her work as pure lunacy.

Mona couldn’t drag her gaze away from the torch-lined beach steps. That was where she’d seen the last little snippet of Rowan, so lovely in her summer dress, tucked arm in arm with the handsome and kindhearted Ashton. She shook her head, feeling as if her heart would tear apart with the irony of it.

All she’d ever wanted was for her girl to be happy, and Mona had never seen Rowan happier than she’d been tonight, dancing, safe in Ashton’s arms and mesmerized by his adoring gaze. She’d laughed joyously with her friends. She’d looked so pretty, flowing and peaceful just being herself, a young woman falling in love. But all that happiness wasn’t due to her mother’s intervention—it was
in spite
of it.

No wonder Rowan resented her so.

Mona let her head fall into her hands. She was haunted by what had happened with Frederick Theissen. Mona had steered her own beautiful girl into the clutches of a charming monster, and when the charm fell away and the monster emerged, Mona never really took responsibility for her own spectacular lack of judgment. Instead, she accepted Rowan’s guilt-ridden offer to manage the Safe Haven, a job Mona could no longer do because of her arthritis. Mona allowed the B and B to become just another burden on her daughter’s already burdened shoulders. How could she have done that to her?

Mona knew that everything Rowan had said in anger earlier that night had been correct. She had no right to advise anyone else about romance when her own story was so twisted and confusing. And tonight, watching Rowan on the dance floor with Ash, Mona had been flooded with a memory.

Many years ago, she’d had a night much like it. It was the festival-week clambake, an event made magic by moonlight and new love. A twenty-five-year-old girl had been sheltered in Frasier Flynn’s strong arms that night, and she’d been swept up in his humor, his beautiful green eyes, and the way his body felt against hers. Mona’s own mother hadn’t been thrilled at her daughter’s decision to leave New Hampshire and move to Bayberry Island to be with Frasier, but she’d done it anyway. Mona had followed her heart. At the time, she’d maintained that she was a grown woman entitled to chart her own course. All these years later, despite everything, she didn’t regret that decision. She had three wonderful children, and underneath it all, she still loved that man who’d danced with her on a moonlit night so long ago.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to rebuild the marriage they’d allowed to fall into disrepair.

Mona blinked back tears. Her daughter was now a grown woman entitled to chart her own course. She had a right to live her life, wherever she pleased, in whatever way she wished, and with whomever she wanted. Just as Mona had done so long ago, Rowan had a right to make her own decisions about career and love, and no one, especially her mother, should stand in her way.

It still crushed her heart to think she’d misread the situation with Frederick so terribly. In her eagerness for her daughter’s happiness, Mona had sent Rowan to the mermaid after she’d already met Frederick, forgetting the most important part of the legend.
“
Those who come to the mermaid with preconceived notions about the ‘how, who, when, and wheres’ of true love will find heartache instead!”

Mona raised her head. It was quite late, and she needed to make her way down the four blocks to her little house on Idlewilde Lane. It was time to take stock of her life. She had wanted nothing more than to improve life for her family and friends, but it was now clear to her she’d caused discord instead. Maybe her blind devotion to the Safe Haven and its grand past wasn’t about others after all. Maybe it was simply her own ego at work, the stubbornness of an old woman holding on to a time and way of life that was no longer practical.

She pushed herself to a stand and grabbed her shoes from the sand, her hands aching from the simple effort. There was much that would have to be sorted out in the weeks and months to come, but if she was going to set things right, there were two things she knew must happen—immediately.

First, Mona would stop meddling in Rowan’s love life,
no matter what
. Rowan and her new beau were adults. They could figure it out for themselves. That meant Mona had to find a way to keep the legend and her daughter separate.

Second, Mona would contact that pushy woman from Jessop-Riley in the morning and tell her she was done fighting. They could have the land.

With that, Mona would set her daughter and the rest of her family free. They would no longer be slaves to a dilapidated old mansion and too much land to take care of, and they would have the money to live however they pleased. It was the greatest gift she could give them.

Mona’s face was wet with tears and her knees ached as she climbed the beach steps, but her heart already felt lighter. The time had come for the Flynns to start their real lives.

T
he nearer they got to the top of the carriage house stairs, the slower they seemed to move. Rowan suspected it was because there was weight to this decision. Once she and Ash entered the apartment, fully intending to make love, there would be no way to brush it aside as a fluke.

The first night she and Ash were here together, there were no lights. They didn’t know the first thing about each other. And they had no context for what was about to happen between them. Tonight was different. The lights were on. They had decided there was potential for a relationship. And they’d already had a taste of each other.

No wonder she had butterflies in her stomach.

Rowan was first to step into the living room, and she looked over her shoulder to give Ash a shy glance. For some reason, she’d started to feel embarrassed.

“Come here, my lovely Rowan.” Ash reached out for both her hands and drew her toward him, his intense blue eyes filled with tenderness. Then he pressed her close and simply held her, not asking for a thing, and Rowan felt the steady cadence of his heart against her cheek. There was much she still had to learn about this man, but one thing she was sure of: He’d been through a lot and he had managed to hang on to his kindness. That was the type of man she had always wanted. And here he was—in her apartment and in her life. Very soon now, he’d be in her bed.

There was a lot at stake here, but she decided she would be brave tonight. She would explore the possibilities with the man the universe had been kind enough to send to her door.

“I’ve been looking forward to being alone with you all night, from the first second I saw you standing at the bottom of the beach steps in this dress.” Ash’s hands roamed over her back and up her sides as he whispered into her ear. “You looked like an angel.”

“I was going for something a little less chaste.”

Rowan felt Ash’s body shake with laughter, and she smiled against his chest.

“Then I guess you can handle the whole truth, Miss Flynn.”

“Oh yeah?”

Ash grasped her bare arms and set her apart from him. The smile he gave her was seductive. “I took one look at you in that smokin’-hot sexy thing you’ve got on and all I wanted to do was get it off. I pictured you naked and spread out on your bed, trembling because I was about to bury myself deep inside you.”

Rowan’s breath hitched. “Oh.” That was all she could manage.

“So?”

She blinked. “Yes?”

“That’s a yes?” Ash chuckled.

“Yes. Please.”

Without warning, Ash grabbed her behind her knees, lifted her from the floor, and carried her across the living room, down the hall, and into her bedroom. In the dim light of her bedside lamp, she could see that the place looked as if it had been ransacked by burglars.

“Sorry. I forgot I made such a mess.”

Ash set her gently on the edge of the bed and started picking up clothes, shoving everything back into his duffel. Rowan wondered why his toiletry bag was zipped and packed, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Ash was dropping to his knees in front of her, wedging his big body between her legs and spreading them wide. He reached up and carefully removed the flower and pins from her hair, placing everything on the floor. Then he raked his fingers along Rowan’s scalp, sending a shiver of pleasure through her as her hair fell around her bare shoulders.

Ash looked up, a wistful expression on his face. He slid a fingertip up the inside of her exposed thigh, leaving an electric tingle on her skin as he went. He managed to push up the hem of her dress while he was at it.

“Do you remember the storm?” His voice was soft. “Remember how we attacked each other on the floor, in the dark?”

Rowan nodded. It wasn’t like a girl could forget that sort of thing.

“I don’t want that tonight.”

“You don’t?”

He shook his head, his smile becoming more sweet than seductive. “I want us to make love tonight. Just take our time to explore each other. I want . . .” Ash cut himself off, closed his eyes briefly, and reopened them. “Rowan, the last thing I want to do is freak you out, but I hope this is the start of something incredible for us. I want to take care of you tonight, show you how it feels when a man absolutely adores you, desires you so badly there aren’t words for it. I want you to melt.”

Since no man had ever said anything like that to her before, she had no idea how to respond. Rowan tried to smile but felt hot tears begin to well in her eyes, which she struggled to keep at bay. In lieu of speaking, Rowan leaned down and kissed him, hoping she would be able to convey how his words touched her. She pressed her fingertips just under his chin as her lips roamed all over his. When she gently opened his mouth with her tongue and bit down on his bottom lip, he moaned with delight. Rowan’s goal was to hear that sound from him many, many times tonight.

Her kiss went on. She tasted him and tested him, curious how he would react to every little thing she did. Would he let her decide the pace? Could he relax and receive? What seemed to send him over the edge? As Rowan toyed with him, she slid her fingers up into his loose curls, marveling at how intimate it felt to hold his head in her hands. There was no doubt about it—she was falling in love with Ash. With this kiss, she felt it pour out of her and into him. She couldn’t help it. It was too late to change the course of her emotions. Even if she wanted to, it would be too late to talk herself out of loving him.

He slowly broke the kiss. With his gaze locked on hers, Ash reached up and untied the halter of her dress, holding the straps in his hands to control how much of her flesh was exposed and how quickly. Rowan saw how he looked at her. He had such reverence in his expression, and his intensity pierced her heart.

She knew he was falling, too.

Ash eased the straps down, over the tops of her breasts, over her aching nipples, finally allowing the halter to fall to her waist.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “So beautiful. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Slowly and carefully, as if he wanted to savor the sensation, Ash dragged a single fingertip down the slope of her breast. He then cupped each one in a palm, a look of awe in his eyes. Ash lowered his head, kissing the tops of her breasts, the sides, then, one by one, her incredibly sensitive nipples. A shiver of pleasure coursed through her.

“You like that, don’t you? I can tell.”

She nodded, tipping her head back. It felt as if she were beginning to float, as if the bliss had set her free.

For many more minutes, Ash gave his complete attention to Rowan’s breasts. She glanced down to observe how her flesh had become a playground for his fingers, hands, lips, tongue, and teeth. He hummed as he sucked her nipples, the vibration nearly causing Rowan to jump from the bed. The deep rumble of his chuckle only intensified the teasing.

“I want to play with you a lot, Rowan. Would that be all right?” Ash asked this as he drew closer, but he gave her no time to answer. He kissed her lips again as he unzipped the back of her dress. As if on cue, a warm breeze slipped through the bedroom window and skimmed along the length of her spine. Oh, it felt so decadent.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Ash pulled the dress down to her hips. His hands splayed out over Rowan’s belly, and he held them there. Rowan was puzzled. He seemed frozen. Was he changing his mind?

Ash leaned into Rowan without warning, and she had to clasp her hands around his neck for balance. He gave her no time to recover, taking her mouth with his. Though Rowan knew from experience that he was still holding back, this kiss was far more intense than the last. It was deep and delicious, and the beauty of it left her too weak to hold on. Her fingers slipped. She fell back onto the bed, and Ash followed, continuing to slide his hot mouth all over hers, his hands all over her stomach.

“I want you so much, sweetheart. Rowan, I have to have you.” Ash left a string of kisses across her cheeks, chin, and forehead, then down her throat, between her breasts, down the center of her body. She felt her belly ripple with anticipation.

Eventually the kisses ceased, and Ash let his palms slide down inside the loosened dress. The instant she felt his fingers slip into her panties, Rowan arched her back from the shock of it, from the need that rocked her.

She knew how wet he would find her, and she knew the begging Ash had envisioned wasn’t far off.

In a single motion, Ash rose to his feet and took the dress and panties with him, tossing her clothes aside. Rowan peeked under her lashes to see his beautifully masculine face shadowed by seriousness, that sensual mouth set in determination. She could only imagine how she appeared to him, stretched out on top of the comforter, bare, breathing hard. She probably looked like the desperate wanton she was.

“Please.” Her voice came out as a raspy, impatient plea from a greedy woman. “Take off your clothes for me. I need to see you.”

Ash seemed to enjoy her request and began to unbutton the front of his shirt. He took his sweet time, and Rowan felt he was teasing her. Eventually, he pulled the shirttail up and out of his leather belt, leaving the shirt hanging open, hands loose at his sides.

The vision left her breathless. His chest was hard and defined, with small pale nipples surrounded by blond down. Toward the top of his chest the hair was light in color, but it darkened and became streamlined as it continued into the waistband of his pants. Even with the movement caused by his breathing, the muscles of his abdomen rippled.

She couldn’t help it. She licked her lips and made a helpless little mewling sound.

Ash seemed to like that, and he smiled as he brought his hands to the fly of his khakis. With a determined slowness that tortured her, Ash unbuckled the belt and let it hang open. He brought his fingers to the top button of his pants, twisted it free, then reached for his zipper.

That’s when Rowan lost her patience. She started to sit up. She needed to touch his chest and stomach, needed that so much she was sure she’d die if he stopped her. She also wanted to do the honors with the zipper. Maybe she would use her teeth.

“No, baby.” He grinned, gently pressing her shoulders to the bed. “What I need for you to do is stay on your back and let me open your legs. That’s all I need you to do. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded.

“I promise it will be worth it, sweetheart.”

Ash dropped to his knees once more. When Rowan felt his fingers on her legs, knees, and haunches, she shivered. When his hot breath hit the back of her knee, she gasped. When she felt his breath brush up the inside of one thigh, she groaned.

And when he delivered a long and languid lick along the seam of her sex, she cried out.
“Oh my God!”

Rowan hadn’t experienced anything like this in so very long. Too long. So long that she didn’t remember what it felt like.

Ash put his entire mouth over her sex, cupped her bottom in his hands, and raised her up so he could feast on her. It went on and on, licking, sucking, nibbling . . . Rowan got so wet she feared Ash’s mouth couldn’t contain it, and she felt a warm rivulet of her passion slip through his lips and hands and run down her bottom.

“Oh my God. Please. Please. It’s too much, too good . . . oh please.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind she was aware that the out-of-her-head crazy-woman voice she heard babbling in the background was her own. She planned to stop the nonsensical mumbling as soon as possible. “Oh God. Ash. Please. This is so good. Please. Please.”

It was too intense, too wonderful. Her legs began to shake. Rowan let out a long and deep moan.

There was no turning back. The heat and pressure had built so furiously that it felt as if all the pleasure in the universe just converged like a laser beam, striking the most tender part of her being.

She was going to come. The night had hardly even started and she was about to explode.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

Ash took his mouth from her. He released her and lowered her bottom to the mattress. She would have complained but was unable to form words.

“Rowan.”

She opened her eyes and saw Ash standing again, staring down at her with dark intensity. He unzipped his pants. She watched him hook his thumbs in his boxer briefs and yank everything down at once. Suddenly, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen stood completely naked before her. He was big and hard and he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

At that moment, there were only three words in the English language that would be of any use to her. So she said them.

“Take me. Please.”

Ash bent over, carefully spread her legs wider as he pushed them back, and lowered his big body onto her. It was shocking how hot and hard he felt and how open and desperate she was for him.

He kissed her. Ash took her with his mouth, prying her open and letting her know how it was going to unfold. She was his. He was opening her, everywhere, and taking what was his.

He entered her body with precision. He moved slowly, unwavering in his goal of claiming what was his. Rowan reveled in the effortlessness of what was unfolding between them. It was a simple equation, the most loving and perfect moment Rowan had ever experienced. She threw her arms around him and held him tight as he unlocked her, body and soul.