Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel (24 page)

The rest of the night was a timeless blur. They made love off and on until morning, stopping only for water, bathroom breaks, and at one point, they raided the freezer for butter pecan ice cream that they ate in bed, naked, with one spoon, straight from the carton.

She learned so much about Ash. She saw that he could be lighthearted even in the throes of passion. She figured out what made him lose control. She learned how much he liked her to grip him tight at the base of his cock while she gently sucked him. And she discovered that Ash had never preferred one sexual position over another, though he did reserve the right to change his mind in the future.

When the night was over and it was almost time for her to get to the Safe Haven kitchen, Rowan understood something about Ash that surprised her. He
needed
physical affection, and he wasn’t afraid to let her know that. He responded so earnestly to her touch and was determined to give as much as he received.

Hands down, it had been the best night of her life. Ash had delivered on his promise—Rowan now knew how it felt to have a man absolutely adore her.

*   *   *

Ash turned off the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack, holding it open for Rowan. She turned away so that her back was to him, and he pulled her in tight, giving her skin a quick rubdown. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Me too. But unless you want Mellie marching in here while you’re naked, you’d better let me get to the kitchen.”

Ash sighed, wrapping the towel tight, then hugging Rowan in his arms. “You’re probably exhausted, sweetheart.”

She leaned the back of her wet head onto his chest and giggled. “I’m exhausted—but happy.”

“Happily exhausted.”

“Exactly. How about you?” She peeked over her shoulder and smiled, pushing up the apples of her cute, freckled cheeks.

Ash wasn’t lying when he told Rowan her smile made him forget his own name. But it was what it made him remember that was the real story. When Rowan smiled, Ash remembered that he was still alive, that happiness could survive sorrow, and that joy might be right in front of him.

“I’m doing pretty good for a man who got about ten minutes of sleep, but I don’t have a bed-and-breakfast to run, either. I’m a man of leisure, you know.”

“Must be nice.” She tried to wriggle free of his grasp. “I really do need to get dressed.”

“I can’t convince you to come back to bed with me?”

Rowan laughed out loud. “Don’t torture me like that. I’d love to spend the whole day in bed with you, but it’s Tuesday, which means I’ve got to make a crap-ton of crepes before seven.”

“Hmm.” He kissed her wet hair. “Is that a Flynn family recipe?”

She laughed again and tried once more to escape his clutches, but he didn’t want to let her go. One image after another flashed through his mind of the night they’d just spent together, followed by a rush of remembered sensation. Never in his life had he felt so much love in a woman’s touch, so much welcome in her arms. She was a wonder, this Rowan Flynn, and he knew it couldn’t be random luck that he’d found her. Ash chuckled into her wet hair, wondering if he had a magical fountain to thank for his incredible good fortune.

He hadn’t meant to be pushy, but Ash found himself pressed up against Rowan’s backside. He could tell by the way she stiffened that she felt his arousal.

“That’s not helping at all, Mr. Wallace.”

Ash lowered his lips to the nape of her neck and drew aside a clump of wet hair so he could kiss her there. She smelled like breezy body wash and warm Rowan. “You know, that’s a great idea. I could help out in the dining room this morning. I’ve never worn an apron before, but I bet I’d look hot in one.”

“I’m sure you would.” Suddenly, Rowan escaped his embrace, and Ash was left holding the damp towel in his hands. She turned to face him, naked, her skin pink from the hot shower. One of the things he’d already come to love about Rowan’s body was the pattern of freckles splashed across her chest and arms. He couldn’t help but think of that cute and stubborn little girl in the photo on her fireplace mantel. She’d grown into a gorgeous and special woman.

Rowan took advantage of his preoccupation and swiped the towel from his grasp. “I know I have a lot of freckles. I hate them.” She bent forward and wrapped the towel around her hair, twisted it into place the way women did, and straightened up.

Ash was puzzled. “You hate your freckles? Seriously? I love them!”

“Thank you, but I really have to go.” She got on her tiptoes to kiss him. While she was there, she smacked his butt, hard, then jumped out of the shower before he could retaliate.

Ash laughed. “So that’s how you want to do this?” Still naked and wet, he followed at her heels, running across the hall into the bedroom. He grabbed her from behind, picked her up, and flipped her over his shoulder.

Rowan began pounding his back with her balled-up fists, laughing hard. “Put me down!”

“Whatever do you mean?” He pinched her cute little ass. “I’m simply taking you to find some clothes to wear to work. I am being nothing but a help to you. Should we check in here? See anything you like?” He swung around so fast that her feet pulled down several hangers from the closet rod.

“Ash! Please!”

“How about your dresser?” Ash riffled around in the top drawer and pulled out a lacy pink bra, then slipped his free arm through the strap. “Does this make me look flat-chested?”

“It makes you look like a six-foot-three dude with a bra hanging off his arm.” She continued her drumming on his back. “I gotta get ready for work!”

Ash tried his best not to laugh, but Rowan was so much fun to play with! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed himself to prance around like a complete ass the way he was doing at that moment. Maybe that was because he never had. “Well, since you can’t seem to choose what to wear today, how about we go into the kitchen so I can make you some coffee? Maybe that will help you think clearly.”

He’d just made it through the bedroom door when he felt Rowan’s hands go still. Before Ash could figure out what she was up to, the tickling started.

“Stop!”

“Are you ticklish?”

“No!”

“Oh, that is such a lie!”

She was right. Ash was exceptionally ticklish and knew he wouldn’t be able to withstand much more of this torture, especially since she’d found his two weakest spots—under his arms and along his sides. He staggered into the living room and veered off balance toward the top of the stairs. “Come on now! Not fair!”

“Then put me down!”

“Never!”

“Rowan? Are you up there?”

Ash froze. Rowan’s tickling stopped. Both didn’t dare breathe. As if coming out of a daze, he realized he had a gorgeous naked woman slung over his shoulder, her ass about an inch from his face.

Rowan whispered harshly in his ear, “I told you! Oh my God—we’re both naked. Hurry!”

Ash released Rowan and set her on her feet. She stood in front of him. In one smooth movement, Rowan turned to face the steps, whipped the towel from her head, and slapped Ash across the face with it in her rush. Maybe he deserved that. Just as Rowan opened the towel and pulled it taut in front of her, the carriage house door opened.

Imelda flipped on the stairwell light and narrowed her gaze at the two of them. But her eyes went huge when she realized the state of their undress.

“I’m on my way,” Rowan said.

Mellie shook her head silently and left, gently closing the door behind her.

Rowan spun around to face Ash, and she was
pissed
.

Before a word could escape her mouth, he kissed her, then asked, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re exceptionally beautiful when you’re angry?”

She rolled her eyes. “Get dressed.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You.” Rowan snapped the bath towel against his bare butt as she walked by, and this time the attack was intentional. “You’ve got a crap-ton of crepes to make this morning, Mr. Wallace.”

*   *   *

Clancy grabbed what appeared to be a banana-nut muffin straight off the baking sheet, headed toward the coffeepot, and decided to give himself a moment before he even greeted anyone.

It had been a long night. He’d had to drag four drunk, underage teenagers from the clambake, arrest a man for trespassing out at the marina, issue citations for a multitude of illegal beach bonfires, and deal with the usual marijuana possession, public intox, lewd behavior, and indecency complaints. Clancy took a sip of the good and strong coffee he knew he’d find here in his childhood kitchen and stared out the window. He decided that while he waited for the caffeine to kick in, he’d give himself a few minutes to do nothing but watch dawn break over the sea.

He sighed. Three days, three nights, and one morning was all that remained of this year’s festival week. That meant there were only two major events to worry about from a public safety standpoint—today’s reenactment at the museum and Thursday night’s Mermaid Ball. He didn’t count the annual Flynn family cookout tomorrow evening. There would be plenty of opportunity for conflict, of course—with his parents either ignoring each other or going nose-to-nose over the damn development project again—but it wouldn’t be something that would require calling for backup. At least he hoped not.

Clancy knew the dynamic would be different at the cookout this year. For one thing, Annie would bring Nat along, and Rowan would probably have her pretty-boy prepster in tow. Clancy couldn’t be too hard on the guy. He’d done some checking on Wallace and he seemed legit enough. He was chairman of a nonprofit just like he said and had earned his business degree from Harvard. He couldn’t find much on the consulting business Wallace said he was closing, aside from his corporation filing with the state and a vague and brief Web site. Clancy figured he was some kind of mercenary, stepping in to help companies do their dirty work, like firing people for managers who didn’t have the balls to do it themselves.

Once festival week was over, he’d make some calls to his buddies on the force in Boston. Maybe they could find out a little more on Wallace. But regardless of what the man used to do for a living, Clancy had watched how he’d patiently escorted the cantankerous Hubie Krank to the beach last night and had to admit Wallace had a decent streak in him.

Maybe his sister had finally found herself a good one.

And, of course, the other change to this year’s cookout would be Duncan. His big brother might be a self-centered bastard, but at least when he graced them with his presence it provided an excuse to celebrate as a cohesive family unit.

But not this year. Clancy wondered where Duncan might be, and not knowing always left a vague sense of dread floating around in his brain. He might not be his big brother’s biggest fan, but he loved him and wanted him to come home safe.

Clancy gulped down the rest of his first cup and set about getting another.

“Good morning, Chief.”

Clancy paused, his hand on the coffee dispenser lever. The Safe Haven’s kitchen had always been the domain of women. Mellie, Rowan, and the four foreign cuties were usually the only people in here at six thirty on a weekday morning. That said, he had a good idea whom he’d be eyeballing when he spun around. Yep. He’d been right. Kind of. Ash Wallace had just greeted him, but the dude was wearing an apron with cups and saucers and teapots and shit all over it.

“You must’ve pissed her off something fierce.”

Wallace laughed. “I did.”

Clancy shrugged and took another gulp of life-giving coffee. “Check in the walk-in freezer. There might be some butter pecan ice cream in the back.”

“Might just do that.”

Clancy let his gaze wander up and down Wallace’s person. He looked ridiculous with his hairy legs sticking out of the bottom of the long apron, but he sure was happy. Why he looked that way wasn’t anything Clancy cared to dwell on. “Saw you gettin’ your dance on last night. Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

Wallace shook his head. “Are you always going to give me grief like this?”

Clancy shrugged. “How long you plan on sticking around Bayberry?”

“As long as she’ll let me.”

Okay. He’d given that answer without a second of hesitation and with complete certainty. Clancy had to hide his surprise. This guy really cared for his sister. Not that it wasn’t warranted, because Rowan was a great girl. But, honestly, Wallace hadn’t struck him as the type who wanted to settle down, especially on a lonely rock like this one. He wondered how long it would be before Wallace hatched a plan to whisk Rowan away to the city. He didn’t even want to think of the fate of the B and B if that happened.

“Let’s see.” Clancy nodded to his sister’s suitor. “I suppose I’ll be giving you a hard time as long as she lets you hang around. It’s my job.”

Wallace seemed to take it in stride. “Fair enough.”

“So what’s she got you doin’ in here this morning?”

“Everything.” He looked over his shoulder toward the stove, where Mellie and Rowan were running their usual crepe assembly line. “I’ve already made about ten pounds of bacon, and now she’s got me cutting fruit. These guests are pigs.”

Clancy chuckled. “Yeah, well, I’ve been in your shoes more mornings than I can count. When my dad closed the fishery and we turned this place into a B and B, we all had to work for our keep. Us kids did whatever had to be done—cleaned rooms, served food, kept up the landscaping. It wasn’t until we all went to college that our parents hired seasonal help.”