Stranded on the Beach (Holiday Acres Book 1) Page 6
He met her gaze again, an odd, small flare of hope kindling in his heart. “Is it?”
“Yes. I think so. I don’t feel so angry when I think back on it now. On you leaving, I mean.”
“I did want you to come with me.”
Her face twisted briefly. “You wanted me to come with you and never see my family again. Not really a fair choice.”
The reasonable part of Phil’s mind knew she was right, knew he’d been stupid and immature back then to demand that she leave with him and never look back.
It still hurt, however. Knowing she hadn’t loved him enough to choose him over her family.
It had been incontrovertible proof to him that love would always only betray you.
He vividly recalled Christmas Eve when he’d been eight years old and had been waiting excitedly for his father to come home with their presents. He’d been breathless with anticipation. So happy about the holiday. His dad had promised them all kinds of treats.
Then his father had come home drunk instead. No presents. Just a lot of yelling when Kent had complained about their father for spending his extra money on beer instead of Christmas.
The angry arguments had lasted all evening, and Phil had hidden in a closet to get away from them.
That fall from hope and excitement to betrayed disappointment had always been Phil’s understanding of love.
That was what love did to you eventually. His father had taught him and his brothers that lesson well.
But Phil wasn’t so young and immature anymore. He knew better than to let himself get hopeful and excited since he knew what would follow. He wasn’t naïve about love or anything else. And he even understood why Rebecca hadn’t been able to let go of what she knew, even though it was her own father who was at fault.
He realized with a shock of pressure in his chest that he wasn’t angry with her anymore when he thought back to that day he and Rebecca had broken up.
He understood.
The knowledge changed things. Overwhelmed him.
He had no idea what to do about it.
Rebecca didn’t appear to know either. She was breathing raggedly and fiddling with her water glass. Both of them let the topic die.
It was two o’clock when they were walking back to Phil’s pickup truck.
The truck had been a hand-me-down from Kent, his oldest brother, who’d gotten it when he first started to drive. Phil had driven it since he’d been sixteen, and he was always having to tinker with it. But it still worked, and he usually just rode his bike around, so it didn’t seem worth the money to get something new.
Rebecca had laughed when she saw he still owned it, but she didn’t seem to mind.
The mood had relaxed between them again, and she was smiling now as she climbed into the passenger seat.
“What?” he asked at her expression.
“Nothing.” She looked almost embarrassed, which made him really want to know what had crossed her mind just then.
“What?”
“Just thinking about this truck.”
“Yeah? Me too.”
“What are you thinking about the truck?”
“About how old it is,” he told her.
“Oh.” Her cheeks were slightly flushed. She was absolutely delectable.
He’d put the key in the ignition, but he didn’t put the truck into gear. He turned in his seat to face her, a familiar buzzing starting up in his head, in his heart, in his groin. He’d been feeling it a lot lately and was still trying to convince himself it was just physical. “What were you thinking about the truck?”
He wasn’t sure she was going to answer. He could see momentary resistance flicker on her face. But then she finally admitted, “I was thinking that the first time you kissed me was in this truck.”
The buzzing intensified. “That’s what you were thinking?”
“Yeah.” She slanted a quick look at him. “Do you remember?”
“Of course I remember.”
He’d just turned seventeen and had taken her to the movies. When it was over, they’d gotten into the truck, arguing good-naturedly about one of the plot points. He vividly recalled how pretty she’d been, vibrant and enthusiastic and alive.
She’d always been shy with him before that night, and that evening had been like she was a flower who had finally opened to the sun.
He’d been so bowled over by her that he hadn’t had time to even be nervous. He’d just leaned over and kissed her, right in the middle of something she’d been saying.
She’d been surprised—of course she’d been—but she’d also kissed him back.
“That was my first kiss,” she said.
He looked at her silently. Then he admitted, “It might as well have been mine too.”
He wasn’t sure she’d understand what he meant by that, but she did. He saw it on her face.
He knew there was something dangerous about the way he was feeling right now.
It was too real, too intense, too risky.
Too hopeful.
And hoping meant trusting, and trusting meant being disappointed because people always let you down.
She’d let him down when he was nineteen. It had been partly his fault—he knew that now—but the letdown had been real.
But Phil had been living in an emotional desert for a long time, and the past week felt like an oasis to him. Offering him sustenance he needed.
There had been plenty of times in his life when he’d known he probably shouldn’t do something, but he’d wanted to do it so much he’d pushed aside the little voice of wisdom. It had always been small things. He shouldn’t “borrow” his brother’s favorite baseball mitt. He shouldn’t spend his entire allowance on candy. He shouldn’t put off studying for a major test. He shouldn’t hit snooze one more time on his alarm.
This felt the same. He knew he shouldn’t let himself feel this way. Closure was all well and good, but he was feeling things right now that were going to bring him real pain when Rebecca walked away from him in another week.
The voice of wisdom kept telling him this, but he didn’t want to hear it.
He wanted this. More than wanted it. He needed it.
And he wasn’t going to not take it when it was right in front of him.
So instead of changing the subject to something less intimate, he leaned forward and kissed her, exactly as he had nine years ago.
She was surprised for just a moment, but then her hands rose to his face. She held him as he moved his mouth against hers, his body tensing around a pleasure that rose so quickly he could barely process it.
The kiss wasn’t soft and sweet. It was hungry. Urgent. Matching the deep need that had awakened inside him when she’d appeared a week ago.
She responded to him eagerly, opening her mouth to his tongue and leaning forward to get closer to him.
The old truck had a bench seat, so there was nothing between them. Phil moved out from behind the steering wheel so he could reach her, and then he pulled her into his lap, moving her legs so she was straddling his hips.
She came willingly, her small body and lush curves warm and firm against him. She had one of her hands tangled in his hair, and she was pulling it almost painfully. He didn’t care. Everything about her felt good. Everything about her made it clear how much she wanted him.
He was already hard in his pants, and he groaned as she ground herself against him. He couldn’t stop kissing her, but he focused enough to slide a hand under her top so he could reach one of her breasts. He fondled her over her bra, thrilled with how quickly her nipple tightened, how she shuddered with pleasure.
She was so hot. So eager. Her hands were all over him, and her hips wouldn’t stay still. After a minute, she broke off the kiss, letting her head fall backward as she moaned uninhibitedly.
It was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard in his life.
She was the most erotic thing—with her flushed cheeks and messy hair and the naked pleasure on her face as he
caressed her. He brought his other hand up so he could play with both of her breasts over her bra.
She arched back like a bow in his lap and moaned again.
His erection was throbbing painfully. He had no idea how this had happened. They’d just finished lunch. They were getting into the truck.
And it had somehow turned into this.
“Phil,” she gasped.
“What, baby?”
“We’re... we’re in a parking lot.”
It was like a truck had slammed into him out of the blue.
Because she was right. They were in a parking lot, and it wasn’t empty. A couple was leaving the restaurant right now, walking over toward where they were parked.
And she was in his lap, his hands on her breasts, in the middle of the afternoon.
“Shit,” he said, forcing his hands down. It was harder than it should have been to let her go.
“Yeah.” She whimpered softly as she climbed off him. “Not exactly what I’d call good timing.”
“No. Sorry about that. Got carried away.”
“Me too.”
They sat for a minute or two until they’d cooled down and caught their breath and Phil’s body was under control again.
He wondered what she would say if he suggested he take her home and then take her to bed.
“What do you want to do now?”
“I don’t know.” She rubbed her face, as if she were trying to make herself think clearly again. “We’ve got some more time if there’s anything else to see around here.”
Well, that answered that. She didn’t want to jump into bed.
Disappointment.
It always caught up to hope eventually.
As if she’d read his mind, she added, “I know we both got carried away, but I’m not sure it would be smart to...” She shook her head. “If this is just closure, it wouldn’t be smart.”
Just closure.
It felt like more than that.
But it couldn’t be more than that.
If he even let himself think beyond closure, then there was a mountain of pain and unresolved conflict that he’d be forced to face.
It was too much.
Too painful.
Too terrifying.
There was no way sex would be worth it.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You’re right. It wouldn’t be smart.”
She let out a breath and slumped back against the seat. She wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I guess we should be smart. Right?”
It was a small comfort to know that she was as disappointed as he was. “Right.”
“Okay. So let’s do something else then if you don’t mind. Is there anything else around here worth seeing?”
He thought. He tried to think. It wasn’t easy.
“There’s a historic house and garden about fifteen minutes away. It’s open to the public on Sunday afternoons. We could go see that if you want.”
“That sounds great.” She was smiling now. She clearly could recover more quickly than he could. “Let’s do that then.”
“Okay. Let’s do that.”
He slid back over behind the steering wheel and took a few more deep breaths until he was satisfied he was in a decent condition to drive.
Then he put the truck into reverse, pulled out of the parking place, and drove away.
Seven
REBECCA WAS FEELING quite unsatisfied.
She knew it was her own fault. She was the one who’d pulled back from Phil when they’d been close to finally consummating the fire that had been smoldering between them for the past week.
Despite her physical discomfort, she still believed it was the right decision.
Yes, she didn’t feel good right now. And yes, more than her body wanted something particular to happen with Phil.
But giving in to the temptation would be falling over an edge for her, and she didn’t know where she would end up at the end of the fall.
There would probably be a painful crash.
Just like last time.
Indulging herself for a couple of weeks was all well and good, but there were limits to that indulgence.
Nothing in Phil’s words or behavior had indicated he wanted more than two weeks.
At first she’d thought he was completely different from the boy she’d known before. He wasn’t. He was still just as sweet and funny and thoughtful and surprisingly sensitive.
But the boy he was before had left her. He’d broken her heart.
And expecting a different outcome this time would be incredibly foolish.
She kept telling herself this—over and over again—as they explored a lovely old house and garden and then got in the truck to head back to her vacation rental.
Phil had been good company for most of the day, but he’d fallen quiet now. Occasionally she caught him glancing over toward her, and she had no idea what he was thinking.
He wasn’t big on opening up.
He wasn’t fake. He’d never been fake. He didn’t put on an artificial persona for the world like some people she knew. What he said was usually honest, but it only went so far, so deep. There were parts of his soul he never let anyone see.
If she’d been smarter, she would have realized he’d done the same thing back in high school. He told her the truth—but not all the truth. He’d only ever let her in so far.
It was almost like he hadn’t fully trusted her.
And he didn’t fully trust her now either.
She was smarter now, and even if there had been the potential for a serious relationship between them, this would have been an issue.
She wanted to be with someone who would let her in for real.
All the way.
“Is something wrong?” Phil asked, pulling to a stop at a traffic light.
His eyes were on her when she looked over, but he almost immediately turned back to the road in front of him.
“No. No, of course not.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She sighed, realizing that she could hardly complain about Phil’s not opening up when she wasn’t willing to do it herself. “I guess maybe I’m just wondering if this is really going to get us closure.”
There was a long moment when Phil stared out at the red light and the other car on the opposite side of the intersection. She saw him swallow. “You think we shouldn’t hang out anymore?” he asked at last.
“No! I’m not saying that.”
“You don’t feel better about me now?”
“I do feel better. A lot better. You know I do.”
“But you’re worried.”
“Yeah. A little. I’m...” She shifted awkwardly in her seat, wondering how she’d stumbled into this rather embarrassing confession. “I’m having a good time with you.”
He turned back to her at last, his face softening. “I am too.”
“So I’m wondering if maybe... maybe I’m going to be kind of bummed when I have to go home.”
His amber brown eyes were warm now. Whatever tension he’d been feeling earlier had disappeared. “I’m going to be bummed too.”
For some reason his admission made her feel better. Less anxious.
He was in the same situation. He must be feeling some of what she was.
“So what do you think we should do?” he asked when the light turned and he began to accelerate.
“I don’t know. I guess we could say goodbye now—when we get back to my place, I mean. That might be smarter.” She hated the idea, even though most of her mind was grabbing on to it, saying that it was smart, it was mature, it was the only reasonable thing to do to keep her from another heartbreak. “Things have been good between us this past week, but they haven’t gone too far. I mean, too far to... to be hard to walk back from.”
She stumbled over the last sentence as she suddenly realized it wasn’t true.
It was going to be hard to walk back from even this past week.
But not as hard as it would have be
en if she’d actually had sex with him.
“Okay,” Phil murmured, his voice slightly thick.
She peered at him but couldn’t read anything in his expression. She didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed or a little of both like she was.
She made herself relax and closed her eyes for a minute. “It’s kind of... kind of disappointing, but maybe it’s the smarter thing to do.”
“Then we can do it.”
When she opened her eyes, he was scanning her face, but he turned away almost immediately.
“Okay,” she said, trying to sound confident. “It’s settled then.”
“It’s settled.”
She had to change the subject and talk about something else before she started rehashing the whole decision and changing her mind. “Do you mind stopping for a few minutes at a grocery store on the way back? I need a few things, and since my sister left me stranded at the house, I’d have to walk and carry everything back otherwise.”
“Sure,” he said. “No problem at all.”
WHEN THEY GOT TO THE grocery store, Rebecca expected Phil to wait in the car while she ran in to grab a few items, but he got out with her.
So instead of a quick stop, they ended up walking through all the aisles, looking at everything that caught their interest and might taste good.
She was loaded up when they reached the cashier, and she was glad she’d had the foresight to bring a lot of the cash Laura had left her so she could pay for it all.
Phil drove her back to the vacation house and helped her carry all her groceries into the kitchen.
As they were unpacking, she caught him looking at the steaks she’d bought. Prime rib eyes. Two in a pack.
“They look good, don’t they?” she said.
He glanced up and smiled as he put them in the refrigerator. “Yeah. Are you going to make that sauce you used to make with steaks?”
She chuckled. “The glaze? Yeah. I might. I’ve got shallots and soy glaze and butter.” She paused before she added spontaneously, “I can make them tonight and you could stay, if you wanted.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I thought this was it for us.”
“It is. I mean, I still think that’s for the best. But the day isn’t over, and... I don’t know... it might be nice to have someone to cook for. It would be a nice way to... to end things.”