The Seacrest (7 page)

“Oh.” I couldn’t help but think of the bills my parents had paid monthly, and how difficult it had been for us to meet that dreaded mortgage every month.

“Like I said, your brother was a genius at investing. When all of us were losing our stock value or at best staying even, he was cleaning up. He just had that kind of intuition.”

“Something I never had,” I said, finally rising. “I’ve been broke since I left home.”

He shook his head and smiled. “Not any more, my boy. Not any more.”

I pocketed the keys and picked up the thick folder, turning for the door. “Did you tell me what he did to the house? To repair it after the fire?”

“No. But I thought you knew?”

“I don’t.”

“Okay. Well, it was the wing over the living room and kitchen that was destroyed. He had it completely torn down and rebuilt, an exact replica of the original. You’d never know there’d been a fire.”

I grimaced. “Unless you’d been there,” I said bitterly.

His color faded. “Oh. Right. I am sorry.”

I collected myself. “No need,” I said. “You’re just doing your job, Sawyer.”

His keen blue eyes caught mine. “That’s right, son. Now,
you
go do yours. Bring that property back to its glory. Your brother knew how to make money, but he didn’t care about the farm. The house is in pretty good shape; he took decent care of it. But the rest is all overgrown. Get up there and make your parents proud.”

I sighed, fingered the keys in my pocket, and hefted the thick folder of documents at my side. “I’d best put these in a safe deposit box, right?”

“We have one already. It’s across the street in your brother’s name, of course. But you now have full access. I’ll call ahead to remind them. It’ll be turned over to you officially when you sign the papers at the bank. You know, a new agreement, and all that.”

Great. More signing. “Thanks,” I said, and walked into the brilliant Cape Cod heat.

Chapter 14

July 14, 1997

11:00 P.M.

I
’d fallen asleep against the base of the Jetty, my head nestled against the soft bunched up blanket I brought with me. Sassy didn’t show up at seven o’clock, nor eight. I waited until ten, but since I had to haul my butt out of bed every morning at six, I was dead tired and had drifted off to sleep.

I woke to a soft kiss on my lips, fingers running through my shaggy hair.

I didn’t open my eyes. “I hope that’s you, Sierra McCoun.”

Sassy slapped my arm and squealed. “Oh, you are such a tease! Sierra’s a horrible bitch.”

I slowly opened my eyes and smiled. “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

She bounced to her feet and pulled me up after her. “Oh, good. A blanket. I’m kind of cold.”

I checked the time. “Whoa. It’s past eleven.”

“I know. I had to wait ‘til I heard Aunt Shirley snoring. She’s home again, but her room is next door to mine. Dad fell asleep around nine-thirty. But taking care of my aunt is tiring us both out. We’re thinking of hiring a nurse.”

“Really?” I was surprised her family could afford such a thing. “That’d be great.”

She hugged close to me and we pulled the blanket over us. “I’m so glad you waited for me, Finn. Let’s go to the cove.”

My heartbeat quickened. The cove. With Sassy. “Okay.” No argument there.

We hurried to the shelter of the cliffs, seeking protection from the wind that pelted sand against our bare legs and roared along the ocean. We both wore shorts and it was a relief when we rounded the bend and plopped onto the blanket on the sand.

“Are you still cold?” I said.

She nodded, shivering a little. “I was going to bring a sweatshirt, but it seemed too nice out. It’s colder here on the shore.”

“I know. Me, too.” I settled beside her and opened my arms.

She scurried into them, laying her head against my chest. “You’re warm.”

“Ninety-eight point six,” I said.

She laughed, and I felt her chest gently move against mine. Her long dark hair spilled in silky waves over her shoulders and onto my chest. I ran my hands through it, savoring the luxurious feel of it.

“Sassy?” I said.

She scooted up on me until our faces were an inch apart. “Yes?”

“I’m nuts about you. You know that.”

She smiled. “I know. You’ve only told me about a thousand times.”

“Do you love me?” I asked.

She pouted. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“I’m serious. Really. Sometimes I think you don’t love me as much as I love you. You know everything about me. Everything. I know practically
nothing
about you. I want to know more.”

She sat up and let her hair play across my face, then unbuttoned my shirt and ran her hands along my chest. “I do believe the feeling’s mutual,” she said. Then, with a grin, she added, “that means I love you, too.”

I huffed. “I know what mutual feelings are, what do you think I am, a moron?”

She leaned down and kissed me. “Sometimes. Like now. When we’re here, alone. And you’re talking.”

I realized she was right. I was acting like a fool, talking about who loved whom more.
I have a live, gorgeous, affectionate girl in my arms and I’m obsessing over where she lives and what her family name is. I’m such a dunce.

She kissed me again, deeper now, and she moved astride me. “But that’s what I love about you, Finn. You’re a romantic. It’s not all about you getting in my pants.”

“Don’t think the idea hasn’t crossed my mind,” I muttered against her neck.

She chuckled, kissing my forehead, cheek, neck, and then my chest.

That’s when all words left me. My arms pulled her tight and I rolled her over, smothering her with kisses. Face, lips, neck. I reached one hand up and tentatively touched her breasts, feeling the rising bump of her hardening nipples. She helped me, taking my hands and bringing them under her shirt to find bare skin, no bra.

“Oh my God, Sassy,” I moaned, feeling as if I were instantly in Heaven. Her skin felt creamy and silky under my fingertips. I gently ran my hands over her breasts, cupping and kissing them over and over again. I moaned again, surprised by my intense need. “You’re so beautiful. So soft.”

“Slow down, soldier.” She laughed with a surprisingly husky tone, enticing me even more. “There’s no hurry.”

Oh, but there was a hurry. I felt it below my waist and it surged up and became everything. The need. The hot, hungry need. The yearning. The aching. The longing.

In the back of my mind, I wondered about the other guy she’d been with. What had they done together? Had they gone all the way? She seemed pretty comfortable with the whole making out thing, and I started to question more about the boy from Yarmouth.

“Sassy, oh Sassy,” I crooned, letting my hands roam down her tight belly to the waist of her shorts. I paused there, uncertain if she’d let me go beneath them. My hands ran down her hips, to her soft thighs that lay relaxed and parted. I stroked the bare skin on her legs, moving slowly up to the hem of her shorts. My fingers sneaked beneath the fabric, gently pushing it up until I could almost touch her there. I pushed a little harder, making her shorts ride up. My breath began to sound ragged and I felt myself going out of control.

“Finn?” she said softly. “Take your time, sweetie.”

I raised my eyes to hers in the bright moonlight. “Huh? What?”

She gently squeezed my hand. “I know it’s hard.”

I glanced down at my jeans. She didn’t know how right she was. “I don’t think I can take it, Sassy. I want you so bad. I need you.”

She looked down with a smile and shocked me by patting my crotch.

“I know, sweetie. Did you bring protection?”

Protection?
I pulled away from her, slapping my forehead. “Oh, crap. I didn’t even think of it. Jax has some rubbers in his drawer. A whole box of them. Different colors and everything.”

“Oh,” she looked almost disappointed.

It was at that moment I
knew
she’d had more experience than me. I figured if it were her first time, she’d be nervous, shy, and maybe wouldn’t think to ask about condoms.

To my shock, she leaned down and unzipped my jeans as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Well, maybe next time. I’m not about to get pregnant.”

I froze in disbelief. Sassy had opened my pants and pulled down my shorts. The part of my body that had been driving my brain for the past few weeks burst free from its harsh prison of clothing. I felt cool air brush around me, and the strain of need became more urgent. Blood surged through me, making me stand even taller in the night air.

“It’s okay, big guy,” she said to my private parts.

I laughed with a crazy sound, so glad she hadn’t said “little guy.”

She stretched one hand around me, gentle fingertips sliding against skin. It only took ten seconds, and I exploded into the night.

Chapter 15

July 14
^th
, 2013

10:45 A.M.

I
sat in the idling Jeep at the foot of the driveway leading to my parents’ farm. Ace pushed his nose into my hand and whined. I’d swung by The Seacrest to pick him up after signing the papers at Sawyer’s law firm. I needed strength, and having my dog at my side always made me feel better.

“I don’t know, buddy.” I patted his head and he scooted closer, laying his paws and head in my lap. I stroked his big soft ears and sighed, feeling paralyzed. “What do you think?”

The old sign, Blueberry Hill, swayed in the breeze on a white post needing paint. I glanced at the file folder Sawyer had given me and at the jumble of keys on the passenger seat.

A big wad of paper and a bunch of keys. How strange that they represented the handing over of my family’s farm—and Jax’s possessions—to me.  

I can’t do this.

Snatches of memories flooded my brain. Big family dinners with Gramps. Mom in her apron, cooking up a storm for us, every single day of her life. Customers streaming up the hill when the berries ripened. The smell of sea air on the terrace in the back, mingled with my father’s barbecue.

How can I face that house? Those memories?

Cora had persistently urged me to make amends with Jax, from the very first week of our marriage. But I’d remained stubborn. I couldn’t forgive. I couldn’t forget. I hated myself for that. And sometimes I think Cora did, too.

Anger is a powerful emotion. It can destroy you, paralyze you, make you miserable the rest of your life. And when you hold that furious grudge for ten years, there’s a part of you that rots at the core.

I felt rotten. Compromised. Changed.

I thought of Jax and how normal he’d seemed in the years following the fire. He didn’t act contrite, nor ashamed. Just matter of fact about the fire and subsequent deaths, as if they’d happened, he’d accepted it, he’d moved on. He’d tried to reach out—many times. Each time, I’d brushed him off with fury and had been upset for days.

How could he live with himself after killing our parents and little Eva? And how could I live with the knowledge that he’d now killed Cora, as well?

Ace nuzzled me again. It was as if that dog knew my inner thoughts and tried to help me purge those demons circling beneath the surface—ever present, ever gnawing away at me.

“Good boy,” I said, scrubbing the fur behind his ears. “I know. You’re right. I should just do it.”

The sign swung in the breeze, as if to invite me up the hill.

I put the Jeep into first and let out the clutch. Maybe I’d just sit in the parking area, see how that felt.

Behind me, a car came to a stop.

Libby’s voice lilted from the open window in the silver Jag. “Finn?”

I looked back to see her head poking out the window.

I shut off the Jeep and got out. She met me halfway, and Ace bounded out behind me, tail wagging. He loved Libby.

“Did you sign the papers?” she asked, bending down to make a fuss over Ace.

I swallowed hard, somehow feeling as if I’d made a mistake. “I did.”

She glanced up at me. “You okay with it?”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure.”

She straightened and shaded her eyes, glancing up the hill to the house. “Are you going up? Need some company?”

A wave of relief washed over me. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage.” I patted Ace, who’d returned to my side and sat close beside me. “Do you have time?”

Libby checked her watch, and that motion reminded me of the past, of a distant memory so sweet I could barely stand it. But I pushed it away and locked it deep inside. Just like I always had.

“I have to meet Dad for lunch at the club, at one. That gives me almost two hours.”

“Okay.” I looked with dread at the house on the hill. “Thanks.”

“Come on, I’ll follow you up.” She started to walk back to her car, returning to my side when I didn’t move. She touched my sleeve. “Listen. It’s been a long time. They’re in Heaven. They love you, they’re looking down on you. They want you to be happy. They want you to reclaim your home.”

I looked at her with surprise. I hadn’t realized she believed in much more than horses and her crazy, obsessive love for The Seacrest mansion. “You really think so?”

She nodded. “I do, without a doubt.”

I squared my shoulders. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Chapter 16

July 19
^th
, 1997

8:00 PM

S
assy didn’t show up at the beach for four nights in a row. I began to think it was because she was avoiding the next step in our relationship, which was, well…you know where I’m going with this.

 I’d stuffed my pockets with colorful condoms from my brother’s stash, thinking that each night would be the night I’d lose my virginity and rise to the stars and back with my beloved Sassy.

When she didn’t show up, I’d grown more and more despondent.

I had no way to contact her, no idea where she lived, and was positive she was trying to dump me.