Winter's Path: (A Seasmoke Friends Novel) (3 page)

The antiseptic smell of his room combined with the stale odor of urine from the hallway made my throat tight. He deserved better than this. He’d worked hard all his life and raised me when my mother had overdosed. Had taken in a dirty, scared eleven-year-old and hadn’t blinked an eyelash. He’d sacrificed everything to give me a better life, and this was how I repaid him.

A part of me knew I’d had no choice. Even before the county stepped in last year, it had been difficult keeping him safe. Granddad had a tendency to wander when confused, especially at night, and could get combative. My lips curled around my teeth trying to fight tears. Before Alzheimers had stolen his mind, he’d been a gentle soul with a tender touch who’d never hurt a fly. 

Pulling in a breath, I glanced around the closet-sized room. I’d tried to make it homey and cheerful with pictures of the tavern and me, but the white walls and window facing a parking lot just sucked happy into oblivion. Trinkets from our apartment over the bar dotted the dresser and the chair next to his recliner, not that he recognized them.

God, I wished I could keep him home with me, but we’d had more love than money. When he’d been found wandering the highway in the middle of the night while I’d manned the tavern, the county had him placed. It was out of my hands and I couldn’t afford better accommodations.

I took in his glassy brown eyes, the same color as mine, but he hadn’t met my gaze today. Just stared off into space, lost in memories. I’d been here a couple hours—I visited every morning—and had tried reading him a classic. No go. Not a blink. His craggy skin was pale, a little jaundice, but the creases of time brought a curve to my lips. There would be no Botox or plastic surgery for me. I wanted a face like his someday, wanted wrinkles to prove I’d laughed a lot.

“Hey, Grampy. I have to go. Matt Holcomb is moving to Myrtle. Isn’t that wonderful?” I’d mentioned it to him often. “You always liked him, said he was a good kid. Not that he’s a boy anymore. You’d like the man he’s become. Has a good head on his shoulders.”

My chest pinched, but I rose from my chair across from where he sat in the recliner and folded mine to set aside. Closing my eyes, I kissed his snow white hair. “Love you.”

Once outside the facility, I wrapped my sweater tighter to my chest and gulped clean air. Humidity clung to the cool, crisp breeze, but the sun kept the day from being too chilly.

I’d brought my Harley today because the weather looked like it would hold out. Straddling the bike, I tied my hair back in a low knot and donned my helmet. A rev of the engine, and I was gone.

I made my way across town, relishing the wind in my face and the vibrations between my thighs. Passing the tourist strips, I clamored down the twisty-turny back roads only locals knew existed. As I got closer to the beach, the scent of brine and salt hit me and I grinned. Seasmoke Drive in view, I turned and went to the end of the private lane, my pulse thumping in excitement to see Matt. The Memmer’s house was right next door, but a good couple acres separated them and rows of palm trees offered privacy. Ian’s parents lived here full time now, but their car wasn’t under the stilted carport.

A large moving truck and Matt’s white sedan were in his driveway. I parked my motorcycle behind his car and cut the engine just as he stepped out the front door.

Criminy, that man. His gray Henley was stretched across the lean, sculpted muscles of his torso, the sleeves shoved to his elbows, revealing corded forearms. Worn jeans hugged his narrow waist. He was tall at six feet to my dwarfish five-three. As a boy, he’d been lanky, but as a man...damn. He’d filled out. His frame was more like a runner or swimmer, and moved with the same easy grace. Dark blond hair had just enough traces of red to call him a strawberry when in direct sunlight and his symmetrical bone structure could’ve kept Michelangelo happy for centuries. He wasn’t handsome in the classical sense, but he had an innate charm to amplify his southern good boy appearance. Aw shucks meets wholesome.

His long strides brought him toward the back of the truck where he spotted me and grinned.

Panties? Wet.

I ripped off my helmet and hung it on the handlebars as he ate the distance. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he lifted me off the bike and against his hard chest. Heaven. His hugs were damn heaven.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, my feet dangling off the crushed clamshell driveway, and breathed him in. His scent reminded me of mountains—clean and woodsy. I loved that his cologne wasn’t strong or overpowering. I could bury my face in his neck all day and never have a desire to resurface.

“Ah, so good to see you, Jenny.” His low rumble vibrated my chest, and he squeezed tighter before setting me down. He hadn’t shaved, and the slight outgrowth made him this side of lickable.

“You, too. How was the drive?”

“Meh.” He glanced at the Harley. “When in the hell did you get a motorcycle?”

I grinned, figuring a lecture was coming. “This past summer. Isn’t it pretty?” I’d bought it used from one of my customers. It was only a few years old and had low miles, but he’d given me a hell of a deal. “Want to go for a ride?”

He grunted denial. “I like my limbs road rash free and my grey matter without traumatic brain injury.” His hazel gaze skimmed over me. He had eyes like a cat, always observant, and they tended to change color depending on the lighting or his mood. In the sun, they were moss swirled with burnished copper. And his long lashes should be against the law in all fifty states. “I don’t think I like the idea of you on a bike.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you, worry wart.” I tilted my head, sensing his concern. “I’m dressed properly.” I waved my hand, indicating my boots, jeans, long-sleeved burgundy shirt, and black, knee-length cardigan. “No road rash. And I know how to drive. Take note of the helmet.”

Heaving a sigh, his full lips twisted in a frown. I would kill to have those lips on mine.

“Do you want to play over-protective brother or do you want help unpacking?”

His eyes narrowed playfully. “Darlin’, I’m a multi-tasker.”

CHAPTER TWO

Jenny

July—Twelve Years Ago

O
n shaky legs, I stared at the ocean, hoping the lull would settle me. I squished my toes in the hot sand. Sunlight bounced off the waves and sailboats dotted the horizon. Seagulls squawked and scoured the water for fish. Down the beach a long way and currently out of sight, people were crowded outside the hotels and rental units. It was peak tourist season. My Grampy’s tavern was even farther south, not right on the beach but, when I was there, I could see it from our apartment over the bar.

After running into Jared earlier at the ice cream shop and encountering his self-righteous smirk, I needed away from my side of the strip and had taken the bus up here, where it was less populated. The homes in this area weren’t the ostentatious mansions farther north, but they were beautiful. Simple elegance.

Grateful no one was trying to shoo me away from the semi-private beach, I closed my eyes and breathed deep. Sweat beaded down my back and dampened my hairline. The humidity was so thick drawing air took exertion and I could sense the start of a sunburn on my cheeks. I got a little dizzy and swayed.

Diving into the water sounded like a slice of heaven, but the bruises from last week still hadn’t completely healed. They were faded to a yellowish green, so thankfully I’d only need to wear long sleeves and capris another couple days, then I could go back to my usual tank tops and cut-offs. The risk of the bruises being seen by someone I knew, or worse, Grampy, was worth the possible heat stroke.

“I...I don’t think I’m ready to go this far, Jared.”

He spread my legs with his knees and pressed his face close to mine. He smelled like sunscreen and beer. A loose spring from his mattress dug into my spine. “I’m ready, and you’ve made me wait long enough.”

We’d only been seeing each other a week. Not that what we’d been doing was dating. Jared was one of the more popular boys at school and I’d been too shocked at his sudden interest in me to be smart. He’d spotted me at the local pool and had been following me around since. Up until now, he’d groped and hinted and pawed at me, but he hadn’t taken it this far. My swimming suit was on his bedroom floor. His trunks were shoved down around his thighs as if I wasn’t worth the bother of removing them. His erection was more than intimidating.

Shaking, my heart pounding, I looked at his cold blue eyes. Panic clutched my stomach. “I’m a...it’s just...I’ve never done this before.”

His wry laugh pushed his hot breath against my cheek. “No kidding.” He fisted his base, and before I knew what was happening, he shoved himself inside me.

Pain ripped me in two. Burning. Searing. I clapped my hand over my mouth to contain a scream as tears trekked down my temples onto his soiled sheets. He grunted in my ear and thrust against my dry walls. He pumped a few times while I pinched my eyes shut, hoping he’d finish fast and this would all be over.

His fingers gripped my upper arms and he lifted his torso like he was seeking a better angle. Bearing all his weight on my arms, he drove harder, panting, sweating. Nausea churned my stomach, and I fought to keep my lunch from crawling up my throat. The pain in my arms from his hold combined with the one between my legs and stole my air.

“Fuck. Spread your legs wider or something.”

A whimper eased past my lips. He ignored me and moved his hands from my arms to my thighs, spreading them wide and pinning my knees to the bed. His hips jerked, and then he grunted as he froze. His fingertips dug into my flesh when he came.

Once he pulled out, I was relieved to see he’d put on a condom and horrified to find blood smeared between my legs and on his sheets. Shame washed over me.

He stumbled to his feet. “You’re welcome. By the way, we’re done here. You can go.”

I scrubbed my hands over my face, trying to alleviate the images. My stomach cramped, but I had no one to blame but myself. I hadn’t told him no. I don’t know how I’d walked the few blocks home with the amount of pain I’d been in. Thankfully, Grampy had just opened the bar for the night and I’d been able to slip upstairs and sit under the shower until it ran cold. Ibuprofen had tempered the soreness to a dull ache, but it was still a little hard to sit, even now.

“Looks like you could use this.”

I whirled at the masculine voice and propelled my arms, but my feet were buried and I was thrown off-balance. I was going down. An arm slid around my waist to steady me before I could fall, and I stared at a boy’s bare chest. He must’ve sensed my confusion and surprise because he immediately stepped back after I was stable.

He dipped his face to look in my eyes and held out an unopened bottle of water. “It’s pretty hot out here.”

“Oh.” I took the bottle with shaking hands and drank deep, not realizing how thirsty I was. “Thank you.”

His eyes were gorgeous. And kind. Framed by thick, pale lashes, they were an elfish mix of green and brown and gray. His darkish strawberry hair was cut short and hinted at wavy if it were allowed to grow out. He looked to be about sixteen, or close to my age of sixteen anyway. He seemed to be between that awkward skinny and gangly phase, yet his structure indicated that he’d have defined muscle tone in a few years. He hadn’t been in town long, as his skin was fair.

“You’re welcome.” He grinned, and my stomach somersaulted. Wow. He had a great smile. Straight row of white teeth, a dimple on the right cheek, and the gesture transformed his whole face from pleasant to breathtaking. “Did you just come from work or something?” He jerked his chin at my chest.

I glanced down and realized I was wearing one of Grampy’s Winter’s Den tavern shirts. “Yeah.” Seemed the easy answer. “What about you? Are you vacationing with your family?”

He nodded and thrust his thumb toward the house up the bluff. “My folks own that place. We come down every July.”

I glanced at the house. It was cottage-like in design with white siding and sea foam shutters. Two stories. Lots of glass. “Where are you from then?”

“Greensboro.” The sunlight lit his eyes. “You’re from around here, I assume?”

His grin was contagious, and for the first time in a week—maybe ever—I felt comfortable in my own skin. “South Myrtle, actually. I’m Jenny Winter.”

“Matt Holcomb.” He studied me for a minute and, with what seemed like great effort, he tore his gaze away to glance at the house. “Why don’t you come up and cool off? My friends from Charlotte should be here in a couple hours. They own the house next door. We grill out and have a bonfire after dark.”

I opened my mouth to politely refuse, but it was summer vacation and I didn’t have anything else going on. He seemed really nice, but then, I was a terrible judge of character. The rest of my night, if I declined his offer, unfolded before my eyes. Nervous energy. Watching TV. Trying to read. Pacing the floor. I hadn’t been acting right for a week. I was lucky Grampy hadn’t noticed. “Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Naw. Happy to have you, darlin’.”

Ack. His southern drawl was so darn cute. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for my answer. “Positive.” His smile slipped. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

Rough day. Rough life. I dealt. Not knowing what else to say, I shrugged.

He nodding knowingly, his gaze slipping past my resolve and holding me capture. “I’m going to hug you, Jenny Winter. Okay? Not to make a move on you or cop a feel, but because you look like you need one.”

I opened my mouth, but he stepped into my space, wrapping his arms around me. The water bottle slipped from my fingers to the sand. He kept his hands dutifully on my upper back, our lower halves not touching, and for some reason, the gesture made my eyes misty. After a beat, I slid my arms around his waist and breathed in the scent of sunscreen from his skin. His back was slick from the lotion, his flesh warm. His was more coconut-tinged than Jared’s, and Matt holding me was not uncomfortable, considering we’d just met. As if unable to do otherwise, I sank into the embrace from this stranger with kind eyes, and sensed a respect from him my sixteen years had never afforded. An innate feeling of safety enfolded me and I closed my eyes. When was the last time I’d been hugged?

After what seemed like minutes, but was probably seconds, he rested his cheek on the top of my head, paused, and then stepped away. “Come on. Let’s get you out of the sun before you faint on me.”

Later that night, I sat in the sand with his friends, roasting marshmallows and listening to them quip about past trips. They were an eclectic mix, yet it seemed to work for them. Summer, Dee, Rick, and Ian all lived in the Lake Wylie area of Charlotte. Summer was a beautiful and quiet blonde, and the boys adored her. Dee, I’d learned, was newish to the group and this was her first trip. She had wild brown curls and a straight-forward, boisterous personality. She was dating Rick, who had blondish hair he tied back in a ponytail and was quick to laugh. Ian was charming and a little broody. He reminded me of a rakish rogue from a historical romance novel. Dark hair, dark skin. His flirting was a little hard to ignore, and I didn’t mind the attention.

I spent a lot of the night watching Matt. When we’d been alone earlier, he was chatty and outgoing. With his friends around, he grew contemplative and accommodating. If Ian would put his arm around me or whisper in my ear, Matt’s brows would pinch together and he’d stare at the sand. I liked Ian. He was obviously a nice guy who respected girls, but Matt was the one whose hold I wanted to be wrapped in. Aside from that one hug, he hadn’t touched me.

Much to my surprise and delight, they invited me everywhere that week. On their last day in town, I was more than a little sad they were leaving. We sat around a picnic table under the blistering sun outside the ice cream shop, discussing what to do next summer, and I glanced up to find Jared walking our way. I tensed, my heart pounding.

With a leer, he looked down at me. “Didn’t take you long to spread your legs for another, trash.”

From the other side of the table, Matt shoved to his feet and, with a clenched jaw, clocked Jared right in the face. Ass over teakettle, Jared landed in the grass.

Matt, eyes wide, shook his fist. “Never punched anyone before.”

Dee nodded. “Coulda fooled me.”

I was too shocked to move. No one had ever stuck up for me like that. These guys had known me a week, and here they were, all on their feet.

A dry laugh skated past Jared’s lips as he lumbered to stand. With deliberate nonchalance, he swiped the blood trickling from his mouth and eyed Summer. “No worries. She’s the more appealing piece of ass anyway.”

“Fuck no, you didn’t.” Ian brushed past me and had landed two blows to Jared’s smug expression before Rick shook his head.

Summer rolled her eyes like this was an hourly occurrence.

“All right, man.” Rick hauled Ian away before he could swing a third time. “The loser’s not worth it.”

Leaving Jared moaning in the grass, we walked back toward the beach. And I ascertained three things right then and there. One, Ian might’ve flirted with me this week, but Summer was the girl he wanted. Two, I think I fell in love with Matt more than a little bit. And three, I would never, ever date a local boy again. To them, I was worth nothing more than the time it took to remove a condom. But to Matt and his friends, I was a somebody.

Matt

Present

T
emples throbbing, I stared around at the chaos and shook my head. While I’d been assembling my bedroom, Jenny had unpacked the kitchen stuff. Boxes were still scattered everywhere, my things mingling with my parents’. The plan had been to pack up whatever of theirs I didn’t have room for and ship it to them.