CHAPTER EIGHT
THIS WAS THE moment to leave.
He knew a mistake when he saw one, and he was definitely looking at one right now.
No single mothers. Wasn’t that his rule?
And not only was Emily vulnerable, but there were still things about him she didn’t know. Things that made it more likely she’d push him out of her house than invite him to kiss her. There was no way he was leaving her without support, and not just because Brittany would fire an arrow into his butt.
Now he knew what she was going through, he was determined to help her. And helping her didn’t involve stripping off those pajamas and pinning her to the kitchen table.
“What I’m burning to do is irrelevant.”
“I’ve been honest with you. I want you to be honest with me.” Her voice was soft and smoky, and it slid into his senses like a drug.
Shit.
“Emily, I can tell you that the last thing you want right now is for me to be honest.”
“Please.”
The right thing would have been to make an excuse, but she was wearing those damn pajamas, a confection of silk and sin, and she was looking at him with those wide eyes, her mouth was right there and—
With a soft curse, he took her face in his hands. He felt the softness of her skin under his fingers and heard her breathing grow shallow. “You want to know what I’m burning to do? I want to strip off those pajamas and smash down every boundary you’ve ever created. I want to explore all those places you’ve never let anyone go, and I’m talking about your mind as well as your body. I’m not like Neil. I don’t respect your boundaries. I want you open to me.”
Her eyes widened with shock, and her lips parted. “That will never happen.”
“If I wasn’t about to leave, I’d make it happen.” He lowered his head but kept his mouth just clear of hers. She was so close he could almost taste her, feel the short shallow breaths she snatched into her lungs.
“You wouldn’t, because—” Her face suffused with color. “The truth is, I’m not that crazy about sex.”
For a moment he thought he must have misheard. “You don’t like sex?”
“It’s fine. Nice.” With a whimper of embarrassment, she eased away from him. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. You’re right. You should go. And I never should have asked.”
“Wait a minute—” He caught her around the waist and pulled her back to him. “Did you say ‘nice’? You think sex is ‘nice’?”
Her face was on fire. “Yes. What’s wrong with that?”
He drew in a deep breath. “Honey, ‘nice’ sex is for people in retirement homes with dodgy hips and a heart condition. At your age you should be having clothes-ripping, mind-blowing, animal sex that leaves you unable to walk or think.”
“All right, you should definitely go now.” She was deliciously flustered, and he dragged her back to him and slid his hands into her hair, feeling it tumble and curl over his fingers in a slide of soft silk. She smelled like blossoms and sunshine. Her lips reminded him of the strawberries that grew wild in Kathleen’s tumbling coastal garden.
“You have gorgeous hair. Is wearing it up part of your disguise, too?”
“I don’t have a disguise. Just because I choose to dress in a certain way doesn’t make it a disguise. And wearing my hair up is the practical option. It’s always breezy on Puffin Island. It stops it blowing into my eyes.”
“So, in New York you wore it loose?”
She hesitated. “No.”
“Like I said. A disguise. You’ve created a persona, because you’re afraid someone is going to see who you really are. But I see you, Emily Donovan. I’m standing here, looking right at you, so you can damn well stop hiding.” His hand was still in her hair, his mouth a breath from hers.
“You don’t see me. And I can tell you I’ve never had clothes-ripping, mind-blowing, animal sex. I’m not like that.”
“You mean you weren’t like that with him. You’d be like it with me, Emily.”
“I don’t—”
He kissed her. He parted her lips with his, licked into her mouth and felt her go weak against him. Those full breasts pressed against his chest, and he hauled her close, holding her with the flat of his hand while the other stayed buried deep in her hair. He deepened the kiss until white heat snaked across his skin, until rampant hunger and raw sexual need tore through him. Her mouth was eager and sweet, and the softness of her breasts pushed against his chest. He’d intended the kiss to be brief, but now he’d started there was no stopping. Instead of letting her go, he backed her against the wall of Kathleen’s hallway and caged her, planting an arm on either side of her and holding her there with the weight of his body. He knew he should probably say something, but he was so turned on he could barely stand upright, let alone speak, and she didn’t speak, either. He felt her trembling against him, felt her fingers slide up to his shoulders and hold on as if she were afraid she might collapse without his support.
He dragged his mouth over her jaw and down to her throat, heard her soft gasp as he slid his hands down her ribs, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts.
The single button holding the front of her pajamas together slid out of its silky mooring, exposing luscious curves of creamy white flesh tipped with dusky pink.
Ryan had to force himself to breathe. He was so aroused he felt disoriented. Slowly, he slid his thumb over the tortured peak and heard her moan. He stroked, licked, tasted while she whimpered, squirmed and arched against him, those full lush breasts pushing into his hands.
Drunk on her body he slid his hands lower, down the silk of her back inside her pajama bottoms to cup warm, bare flesh. Everything about her was soft and inviting. He could have drowned in her and died happy.
The only sound was the soft murmurs that came from her throat and the steady thrum of his own heartbeat. The tension in the air was syrupy thick, coating both of them in a heavy, suffocating warmth. And then he took her mouth again, kissing her deeply while his fingers slid between her trembling thighs. He parted her gently and slid his finger into that slippery warmth, feeling velvety softness open for him as her body allowed him intimate access. He held still for a moment, stroked his other hand over her jaw and felt her shift against him with restless need. Gently he stroked and teased, paying attention to every gasp and murmur until he felt the pleasure roll through her. She cried out as she came, her body clamping down on his fingers so that he felt every throb, every contraction.
He held her, murmured soft words against her hair, breathed in the scent of her until the last pulse died away and she lay limp against him.
Ryan tried to steady his own breathing.
He was rock-hard. So aroused he was ready to take her there and then, but he forced himself to slowly withdraw his hand and smooth her pajamas back into place.
Her head was dipped forward, so all he could see was the shimmer of her hair and the shadow of thick, dark eyelashes.
“Emily, look at me.” His voice sounded raspy and rough, but he was impressed he’d managed to form a coherent sentence, so he wasn’t about to apologize for that.
Her hands were locked in the front of his shirt, as if he was the one solid, reliable thing in a collapsing world.
“This is embarrassing. You need to go now.”
“Why is it embarrassing?”
“Because you—and I—damn it, Ryan, you know why. We lost control.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, and he clenched his jaw.
“I didn’t lose control.”
Slowly, she lifted her face to his. “You didn’t?”
“If I’d lost control, I would have undressed you, not dressed you. If I’d lost control, you’d be naked now and flat on your back on the sofa instead of standing there in your pajamas.” And he was starting to question that decision. “You’re right, I need to go, but not because this is embarrassing.”
“Why, then?”
Because he wanted to undo his good work, rip off those silk pajamas, spread her legs and taste all of her, not just her mouth.
Deciding she wasn’t ready to hear that, he smoothed her hair, tilting her face to his. “Because it’s getting late, you had a shitty day and you need to get some sleep.”
Her eyes were glazed and confused, her cheeks flushed and her mouth damp from his kisses. “I didn’t—” Her voice was low and husky. “I wasn’t expecting— I can’t believe you did that. Or that I— I didn’t know it was going to be like that.”
“I did.” Reluctantly, he released her. “I knew it would be exactly like that.”
She stepped back, traced her lower lip with the tip of her tongue as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened, and then sent him a glance that almost had him flattening her back against the wall again.
Her gaze was on his mouth. “Lizzy is upstairs. She could have woken.”
“Cocoa would have barked.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t want her waking up to find me naked with a man. When you’re six, it’s unsettling.”
It had obviously happened to her. Subduing the rush of anger, he focused on the practical. “Could you drop Cocoa back with my grandmother in the morning? She lives in Harbor House. It’s the big white one overlooking the bay.”
“Of course.” She blinked, as if she’d been asleep and woken up on a different planet. “And thank you.”
“For proving that a kiss can be more than nice?”
There was a long, pulsing silence. “For listening. For helping me out with Lizzy. As for the other—” her voice cracked slightly “—we won’t mention it again. That’s the end of it.”
He watched her for a long moment and then strolled toward the door.
“It’s not the end, Emily. It’s the beginning.”
*
AGNES COOPER LIVED a fifteen-minute walk from the harbor and the Ocean Club in a pretty white clapboard house with a shingle roof that pitched steeply at the front. Overlooking the rocks at Puffin Point and the bay beyond that, it had been built on a large plot of land and was protected by mature trees and a well-nurtured garden. Emily was immediately charmed, and the feeling stayed with her as she walked with Lizzy up to the wooden door bracketed by lanterns.
It was the sort of house she’d always pictured when she’d escaped into stories about homesteads and large happy families. The sort of house a child would have drawn, with clean lines and pleasing symmetry.
As she waited for Agnes to answer the door, she smoothed her hair and tried not to think about Ryan. Hours had passed, and yet she could still feel the roughness of his jaw against her cheek, taste the heat of his mouth and remember the delicious explosion of pleasure he’d drawn from her with each skillful, intimate stroke of his clever fingers. Most of all she remembered the way he’d focused on her, as if she were the only thing in his world. The roof could have fallen in on the cottage, and neither of them would have noticed.
Never in her life had she felt as if she were the focus of anyone’s world. In the three years she’d spent with Neil, not once had she lost control. Sex had been a choice, not a need, and it had always followed a predictable pattern. She’d always had the feeling that either of them could have walked away at any point, and it wouldn’t have mattered. After Ryan had walked away, she’d felt so wound up and frustrated she’d almost chased after him and begged him to finish what he’d started.
Lizzy tugged at her arm. “Your face is red.”
“It’s the sun.”
She was wondering how she was ever going to look Ryan in the eye again, when the door opened. Any awkwardness she might have felt from the knowledge she’d spent the previous night physically welded to this woman’s grandson melted away under the warmth of the welcome.
As for Agnes and Lizzy, it was love at first sight.
Some friendships, Emily knew, were instant, and this was one of those.
Within five minutes of knocking at the door, Lizzy was sitting at the kitchen table eating freshly baked chocolate cookies as if it were something she’d done hundreds of times in her life before.
“Handsome bear.” Agnes slid her glasses onto her nose and took a closer look at the toy clutched tightly in the child’s fingers. “Ryan’s sister Rachel had a bear just like him. He’s upstairs somewhere. I had to mend him a few times. Looks like yours could do with mending, too. Would you like me to do that for you?”
Lizzy glanced at Emily and then slid the bear across the table.
Understanding the trust implicit in that gesture, Agnes examined it carefully and then produced a sewing box from a cupboard. “It’s nothing serious. Just something that happens when a bear is very loved. Emily, could you thread the needle for me, honey? My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
Emily dutifully obliged and then glanced around the sunny kitchen as Agnes settled down to mend the bear. This, she thought, was how she’d imagined a kitchen should look. The countertops gleamed, pots of fresh herbs were lined up along the windowsill, and delicious smells wafted from the stove. Through the windows she could see butterflies flitting through the colorful blooms that crowded the lush, leafy sanctuary.
“You have a beautiful home.”
“It’s too big for one person. I rattle around like a bean in a jar.” Agnes glanced up from her emergency repair and saw Emily looking at the herbs. “I love to grow my own food, but it’s harder now I can’t tend the garden myself. So, Ryan bought me herbs I could grow on the windowsill.”
Having finished the cookie, Lizzy slid off the chair and wandered after Cocoa, leaving Emily with Agnes.
“Thank you for letting us borrow Cocoa.”
“I call her my therapy dog because having her around makes everyone feel better.” Agnes tilted the bear toward the light and sewed, each stitch minute and carefully aligned. “Did she make Lizzy feel better? Ryan said she hasn’t been sleeping well.”
“He told you that?”
“Not the detail.” She glanced over the top of her glasses, and there was a sharpness to her gaze that hadn’t been dimmed by failing vision. “He told me you were looking after your niece.” She snipped the thread and handed the mended bear back to Emily. “It’s always challenging when life sends you a responsibility you weren’t expecting.”
“It happened to you.”
“Yes.” Agnes stared at the garden for a moment, a faraway expression on her face. Then she smiled. “Why don’t you make us both a cup of tea, and we’ll take it through to the living room. I love early summer, and I don’t want to waste a moment of the sunshine. I can’t sail any longer, but I love to watch the boats. Ryan is the same. It’s in his blood. His father spent every moment of his time on the water.”
Suppressing an impulse to ask a million questions, Emily followed Agnes’s directions and made tea, added cookies to a plate and carried it all through to the living room at the front of the house.
It was a room full of warmth and charm, flooded with natural light. A large bay window overlooked the sloping garden, and she could see a narrow path winding down to the small rocky cove below.
“This house is perfect.”
Agnes gestured to the window seat. “That’s my favorite spot. On a clear day you can see right across the bay to the mainland. Do you like sailing?”
Emily put the tray down on the table. “I’ve always been afraid of the sea.” And under that quiet, sympathetic gaze it all came tumbling out, all of it, right up to the point where Ryan had kissed her.
That small detail she omitted, although she knew that at some point she was going to have to think about it, to work out what to say next time their paths crossed.
That time arrived sooner than expected. She turned her head to take another look at the view and saw him striding toward the house, talking on the phone. He took the steps two at a time and then paused, staring across the water as he continued the conversation.
Agnes watched and then shook her head. “There are times when I could drop that phone into the cookie jar and put the lid on it. Technology has a lot to answer for. Still, I suppose it means he can join me for lunch occasionally and isn’t tied to his desk.”
“Lunch? Oh, my goodness, I hadn’t realized it was so late.” Flustered by the knowledge that her next encounter with Ryan was going to be so soon, Emily scrambled to her feet. “We just called to drop off Cocoa. We’ve taken up too much of your time.”
“The one thing I have far too much of is time, so someone taking some of it is my idea of a good turn. I enjoyed talking to you. I hope you’ll come again.”
“We will. And thank you for mending Andrew.” Emily glanced out of the window again and saw that Ryan was standing with his back to them. Eyeing those broad, powerful shoulders, she wondered if she could make her escape out of the back door so she didn’t have to face him.
The last time she’d seen him he’d—
And she’d—
Holy crap.
Scrambling for her shoes and her purse, she called for Lizzy.
“Is there a fire?” Agnes’s tone was mild. “I get the distinct impression you’re not happy to see my grandson.”
“He’s been very kind, but he’s already done enough.”
More than enough. He’d made her feel things she’d never felt before, and right now she wasn’t in the mood to confront that.
“Kind?” Agnes looked at her curiously. “I’ve heard him described as selfish, ambitious, focused and damn nosy—most frequently by his youngest sister. Kind isn’t a word I hear too often.”
She wasn’t sure what word she’d use to describe the man who had been ruthlessly focused on nothing but her pleasure the night before.
Thinking about it made her cheeks heat, so that by the time Ryan strolled into the house, she looked as if she’d been sunbathing without protection.
“Ryan.” Agnes brushed the crumbs from her lap. “You missed the cookies.”
“My loss.” He stooped to kiss his grandmother on her cheek, and Emily felt her throat close as she witnessed the genuine affection between them.
His childhood must have been hard and his loss overwhelming, but he’d grown up surrounded by this easy warmth and love.
“Lizzy and I were just leaving.”
He straightened, squeezed Agnes’s shoulder and turned to look at Emily. For a moment his gaze lingered on hers, and then he smiled. “I’ve rearranged my afternoon so I can take you out for lunch.”
“Lizzy had a large breakfast, and—”
“Alone.”
“Alone?”
The air was heated by a tension that was only present when he walked into a room.
“Good idea. Everyone needs a little adult time.” Agnes was brisk. “Lizzy and I will sit here and sort through Rachel’s old books and toys. It’s a job I should have done a decade ago, but I’ve been putting it off.”
Lizzy appeared in the doorway, Cocoa at her heels. “Can we play?”
“With the toys? Of course. You will decide what we keep and what we give away. Do you like books?”
Lizzy nodded slowly. “Emily has been reading to me.”
“Good. Because I have more books than the library.”
It was one thing to let Lizzy play in a different room, something else entirely to leave her alone with someone. Emily shook her head. “I can’t.”
“She’s safe here with me.” Agnes spoke quietly. “We’re not going to leave the house.”
Lizzy was holding Andrew tightly. “I’m not allowed to go to the beach.”
Emily bit her lip. “Lizzy—”
“I’m too old for the beach,” Agnes said calmly. “I’m too old to be brushing sand out of my shoes and out of the house. We are going to stay indoors and have fun. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of young company.”
To refuse would be insulting to Agnes, but to accept would mean being alone with Ryan.
“She isn’t used to strangers.” She realized how ridiculous that was as an excuse, when Lizzy had virtually been raised by strangers.
Lizzy must have thought it, too, because she climbed onto the sofa next to Agnes. “I want to stay.”
Deprived of excuses by the excuse herself, Emily gave a helpless shrug.
“If you’re sure—”
Agnes smiled. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more. Don’t rush. We’ll still be here when you get back, and nothing is going to happen.”
Lizzy inched closer to Agnes. “Sometimes there are men with cameras.”
Agnes’s mouth tightened. “Not on my property, pumpkin.”
As she left the house, Emily felt Ryan’s hand on her back.
“You told my grandmother the truth?”
“Yes. Was that a mistake?”
“No. And you have no reason to worry about her safety. If Puffin Island were ever invaded, Agnes would lead the defense. She raised two children of her own and then took on three grandchildren. Lizzy is in good hands.”
She tried to ignore the warmth of his hand. Tried to forget how those hands had felt as they’d moved over her body. “Four. You’re forgetting to include yourself.”
“I was part of the management team.” His smile made her heart beat faster.
Her level of awareness was a constant hum beneath the anxiety about being responsible for Lizzy. “It’s the first time I’ve left her.”
“I know.” He stopped and eased her to one side so that a family loaded down with beach gear could pass them. “Raising a child isn’t about locking them away until they’re eighteen and then pushing them out of the door. It’s about giving them the tools to be independent. You should be pleased she was happy to stay with Agnes. She could have been clinging to you, especially after what happened. But we both know that this isn’t all about Lizzy. You’re looking for an excuse to avoid me.”
“That isn’t true.”
“No? So look me in the eye.”
“We’re in public.”
“I know and I promise not to rip your clothes off. Now look at me.”
“What happens when people don’t do what you want them to do?”
“If it’s something that matters to me, I’m persistent.”
Was he implying that she mattered to him? The thought of it made the blood rush from her head. Normally she was a calm, logical thinker, but whenever she was this close to him her thoughts scattered. “You have to back off, Ryan. I can’t think when you say things like that.”
“Good. You need to think less, not more.” He took her arm and guided her across the street away from the bustle of the busy harbor, to the relative calm of Main Street with its attractive buildings and colorful storefronts. They walked past several sea and surf shops and a few high-end boutiques catering to the wealthy set who had fallen in love with the beauty and relative seclusion of Puffin Island. Emily had seen the lavish summer houses dotted around the island, from colonial homes to elaborate beach houses. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, the place had an eclectic, cosmopolitan feel.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to buy you an ice cream.”
“A—what?”
“You said you’d eaten breakfast and didn’t want lunch, so I’ll buy you an ice cream instead. Simple pleasures. If you’re going to teach Lizzy how to live, you need to start doing it yourself. The next thing I’m going to do is get you out of those clothes.”
She felt as if she were trapped in an airless room. “You mean you don’t want me to wear so much black?”
He gave her a wicked smile. “Take it any way you like.” Without giving her a chance to respond, he pushed open the door of Summer Scoop and smiled at the young woman behind the counter. “Hi, Lisa, how’s it going?”
“Good, thanks.” The woman used that overly bright tone that people adopted when things were totally crap.
The place was empty.
“I’m treating Emily to ice cream.” Ryan put his hand on the small of her back and eased her forward. “Something smooth, creamy and indulgent.”
Lisa reached for the scoop. “Kirsti thinks there’s an ice cream for every mood. How would you describe your mood today, Emily?”
She felt the pressure of Ryan’s hand on her back. The slow deliberate stroke of his palm through the thin fabric of her shirt.
Was “sexually frustrated” a mood or a physical condition? She turned her head, saw the amused gleam in Ryan’s eyes and glared at him. “I can’t find the words to describe my mood.”
“Then tell me your favorite flavor.”
Trying to escape the dizzying, distracting stroke of his fingers, Emily stepped forward to examine the various options. “It all looks delicious. What do you recommend?” She was so hot she wanted to jump into the freezer with the ice cream.
“Children love Banana Buttermilk, but for adult first-timers I usually recommend Blueberry Booster or Smuggler’s Tipple.”
“Smuggler’s Tipple?”
“Chocolate and rum.” Lisa picked up a small pot. “I can do you a small taster?”
“No need. You said the word blueberry, so I’m sold.”
Ryan chose Caramel Sea Salt. “Lisa moved here last summer from the mainland. She has six-year-old twins, Summer and Harry.”
“Summer?” Emily glanced at the sign over the counter, but Lisa shook her head.
“Just a coincidence. Would you believe that was the name of the place?”
Ryan smiled. “Kirsti would say it was fate.”
“Kirsti is an incurable optimist.” Lisa’s tired smile suggested she didn’t suffer from the same affliction. “We arrived here last Easter for a holiday. We needed a fresh start— Well, this seemed like a good place. We used to come in here for a treat, and one day the owner told us she was moving to Florida because she didn’t like the winters here. My daughter decided it was named for her.” She handed Emily a pretty waffle cone topped with creamy blueberry ice cream.
“Owning an ice cream business must be every child’s dream.”
“I wanted them to grow up surrounded by fresh air and a community of people who knew one another, so it seemed like my dream, too.”
“But it isn’t?”
Lisa kept her head down as she dipped into the salted caramel ice cream. Emily could tell she was reluctant to discuss her problems with a customer.
“We’re fine. But if a few more tourists chose to buy our ice cream, I wouldn’t be sorry.” She handed the cone to Ryan. “Eat it in the sunshine because we all know that by tomorrow the sun might have gone into hiding. Enjoy.”
Emily licked around the melting edges and moaned. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” She saw Ryan’s gaze drop to her mouth. The heat in that look was enough to melt all the ice cream in Maine.
“I agree with Lisa.” His voice was husky, and there was a shimmer of something dangerous in his eyes. “Let’s eat this outside.”
Emily left the shop, flushed from head to toe. She kept her gaze fixed on the harbor. “Lisa seems worried.”
“Does she? The moment you started licking that ice cream, my mind went blank. I was thinking about your tongue and all the things I could do with that ice cream. All of them involved your naked body.” He spoke in a low voice and then cleared his throat. “Good morning, Hilda. I didn’t see you there.”
“Ryan. Emily. It’s a beautiful day. Have you caught the sun?” She peered at Emily. “You’re looking red. This may not be the Caribbean, but don’t make the mistake of thinking you can’t burn here. Water intensifies the sun’s rays.”
“She has fair skin,” Ryan said smoothly, “but I’ll make sure she buys sunscreen later.” He turned and winked at Emily who knew she was the color of a tomato.
“Sunscreen. Great idea.” She tried desperately to change the subject. “You were right about the ice cream, Hilda. It’s delicious.”
“Best ice cream in Maine. Breaks my heart to see the girl struggling, especially with those two young children. In my opinion it was unfair of May Newton to sell her the business in the first place.” Hilda’s mouth flattened into a thin line of disapproval. “She knew it was in trouble. No one can make the place pay. It’s had five owners in as many years.”
Emily frowned. “Five owners?”
“You can’t sell enough ice cream in the summer months to keep a family going over the winter.” Hilda waved at someone on the other side of the harbor. “I’ll leave you two to finish your ice cream.” She moved away, and Emily sagged against the wall of the shop.
“Do you think she knew?”
“That I was talking dirty to you five seconds before she arrived? Probably. She doesn’t miss much.”
“I’m going to have to move back to the mainland.”
“Hilda had six children of her own, so I doubt that sex is a mystery to her. You have ice cream at the corner of your mouth. Am I allowed to lick it away?”
“Only if you don’t mind being punched in public.”
“I never object to a physical relationship, and it would do you good to rediscover some of those emotions you’ve been blocking out.” His eyes were hooded, his voice low, and she felt her insides melt faster than the ice cream.
Flirting was as alien to her as all the other emotions swirling inside her. She tried desperately to change the subject. “Is it true that Summer Scoop is in trouble? That the place has had five owners in as many years?”
His smile told her he knew exactly what she was doing. “Yeah, that part is true.”
“So you think Lisa made a mistake buying the business?”
He shrugged. “One person’s mistake is another person’s adventure.”
She wondered if that comment was aimed at her. “But with two children to support, the stakes are different.”
“True.” He finished his ice cream and licked his fingers. “Children have a habit of killing adventure.”
She thought of the way Lisa had talked about her kids. Even in that brief encounter, she could see they were everything to her. “I think to some people kids are the adventure.”
“They can also be too much reality.” His tone was dry. “How is your ice cream?”
“The ice cream is delicious. The place should be packed.”
“It should be, but it never is. I’m probably a tiny bit to blame for that. The Ocean Club pulls in a lot of casual lunchtime and evening business.”
“But it’s a different market.”
“Maybe, but we’re all competing for the same tourist dollars.”
Emily glanced at the pretty ice cream parlor. “There should be room for both of you. Do you stock her product?”
“Sorry?”
“Do you serve her products at the Ocean Club?”
“I have no idea. I don’t micromanage. I leave that to the chef. I think he makes his own.”
“This ice cream is good. And it’s homemade on the island from the Warrens’ organic dairy herd.”
“How do you know that?”
“It says so on the poster. Makes me imagine green pastures and everything healthy, which is ironic given the fat content.” She finished her ice cream regretfully. “That was good. It wouldn’t hurt you to put in an order.”
“That’s what I have to do to gain approval?” There was humor in his eyes. “I’ll talk to Anton.”
“Anton? Seriously?” Emily laughed. “You have a chef called Anton?”
“I do.”
“Is he French?”
“No. Born and bred in Maine. The things he can do with a lobster would make you cry. Can those shoes of yours cope with a walk?” He glanced down at her feet. “There’s a view I want to show you.”
And suddenly she realized that she was standing in the street, laughing with a man as if this was her life. As if she were free to follow her instincts and impulses.
Just for a moment, with the sun on her face and Ryan by her side, she’d forgotten everything.
“I should get back.”
“Coward.”
“I’m thinking of Lizzy. I haven’t left her before.”
“She’ll be fine with my grandmother.” His voice was soft. “Walk with me.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s midday and half the residents of Puffin Island are going about their business in Main Street. As you’re keen to avoid attention, I’m suggesting we get out of here.”
“You could just stop looking at me,” Emily muttered. “That would do it.”
“That isn’t an option.” He took her hand and drew her into the narrow street that ran between the bakery and the hardware store. It wound away from the main harbor area and was a shortcut to the Ocean Club.
“I might be able to help her.”
“Who?”
“Lisa. I might be able to give her business advice. I’m a management consultant. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at.”
They took the path that led up past the Ocean Club and turned inland. This side of the island was thickly wooded, with steep trails zigzagging through dense forest. On the other side was farmland, with rolling pastures leading down to the sea.
Shaded from sunshine, breathing in the smell of pine, Emily made a mental note to bring Lizzy here.
“It’s pretty.” And quiet. The only sound was the call of the birds and the snap of twigs under their feet. “I can see why Lisa would have chosen to live here.”
“Here—” he handed her a bottle of insect repellent “—better use this on the areas that aren’t covered. We have mosquitoes the size of small birds, and they love black. Tell me about your job.”
“My expertise was strategy and operations. I worked mostly in the consumer goods industry.”
“You know about ice cream?”
“Not specifically, but that doesn’t matter. I’m a problem solver. I look at product, pricing, positioning, supply chains—” She broke off. “This is boring. You don’t want to hear the detail.”
“All those long words are turning me on, but I confess I zoned out when you said ‘positioning.’” He grinned at her. “Clearly I have a thing for management consultants. Who knew?”
“We’re in a competitive market. Companies need to stay agile.”
He groaned. “Honey, you are killing me. Just don’t start talking about growth or I’ll be arrested.”
Because everything about him unsettled her, she chose to ignore the innuendo. “We apply lean principles—”
“That’s going to be a challenge given the amount of fat in Summer Scoop ice cream. I assume you decided to be a management consultant because it requires not a shred of emotion.”
“I like the logic and predictability of figures, that’s true, but there is emotion attached to what I do. Companies expand and contract depending on the advice my company gives.”
“But it isn’t personal.”
“No,” she conceded. “It isn’t personal. It suits the way my brain works.”
“So, what are you going to do with that brain of yours now?”
“I don’t know. I have enough money saved to support both of us for a little while, so I’m still taking it twelve hours at a time.” Sun filtered through spruce and pine, and Emily realized they’d walked quite a distance from the harbor. “I never knew it was this densely wooded.”
“Maine isn’t called the Pine Tree State for nothing. It takes a couple of hours to walk to the top, but the views are incredible. I’ll take you one day.”
“And Lizzy.”
His hesitation was so brief it would have been easy to miss. “And Lizzy.” His tone was deceptively light. “If that’s what you want.”
The way he said it left her in no doubt as to the way he saw their relationship.
For him, it was all about exploring the physical connection and nothing else.
As for her—she had no idea how she saw things.
Confused by her own feelings, she changed the subject. “Would she want help, do you think?”
“Lisa? I don’t know her that well, but given that this was her dream, I’m guessing the answer to that would be yes. No one wants to give up a dream, do they? It gets a little steep here.” He held out his hand, and she hesitated and then took it. Immediately those strong fingers curled around hers, and she remembered the night before, the way they’d felt locked in her hair, stroking her breasts, buried deep—
“I’m not dressed for hiking.” Her face was hot, and she tried to ignore the feel of his hand on hers.
“Are you too hot? Unfasten a button on that shirt. Don’t worry about insects, I’ll keep my eyes on you.”
“I’m cool, thank you.” She sent him a look designed to wither, but he merely smiled.
“Really? I’m hot as hell, but that may be because I’m marinating in my own sinful thoughts about last night.” Twigs snapped under his feet as he walked. “Have you ever had forest sex?”
Emily almost stumbled. His hand tightened on hers, and she kept her eyes on the ground, picking her way along the trail. “I’ve lived in cities all my life.”
“You’ve never had outdoor sex?”
“You mean apart from all the sex I had in the middle of Times Square?” Her sarcasm drew a smile.
“You never had sex in Times Square.” Swift and sure, he backed her against a tree, caged her. “You never had sex anywhere you might be caught. With you it’s all locked doors and the lights off. I bet you’ve only ever had sex in a bed.” A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth, and she felt her tummy tumble.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and his voice was rough. “Because you’ve only ever had ‘nice’ sex. And ‘nice’ sex isn’t the sort that happens with your back against a tree and your skirt around your waist.”
“I’m not wearing a skirt, and I don’t see anything exciting about bark burn.”
Eyes gleaming, he lowered his head toward hers. “Want me to show you?”
Yes. She, for whom sex had been all the things he’d described. Locked door and lights out. “I have to get back to Lizzy.” The only sound was the birds in the trees and the pounding of her own heart. “Seriously, Ryan.” She tried to evade him, but she was trapped between the tree and the hard power of his thighs.
His hand came up to her face, his fingers gentle. “Am I scaring you?”
She didn’t answer because her heart was in her mouth. Her stomach squirmed with a twist of intense desire. Even the smell of fresh air and the sound of the sea hadn’t been enough to cool the memories of what he’d made her feel.
“Not scare exactly. But my life is already complicated enough.”
“I’m not offering you complicated.” His voice husky, he lowered his head and trailed his mouth along the line of her jaw. “In fact, right now I’ve been reduced to man in its most basic form. What I’m offering is simple.”
“You’re talking about sex.” Her eyes closed and her heart raced. She felt the erotic drag of his mouth move down to her neck and linger on the pulse just above her collarbone. “Sex is never simple.”
“It can be.”
Dizzy with the intensity of wanting, she placed her hand on his chest “Ryan—”
“Yeah, I know.” Reluctantly he eased away from her. “I’m pushing my luck for a first date.”
“This isn’t a date.”
“Ice cream followed by a walk in the woods? On Puffin Island that counts as serious.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a gentle hand. “We’ll go back now. You don’t have the right footwear for a long walk. If you’re going to be living on Puffin Island, you might want to do something about that. Unless you have a secret stash of outdoor gear?”
“Most of my clothes are like the ones I’m wearing.”
“That’s what I figured. This is an outdoor paradise. We’ll have you hiking, mountain biking and kayaking in no time. Better buy some equipment. We have a great selection in the Ocean Club. And I’m going to take you out on my yacht. The best way to see the island is from the sea.” They started walking back down the trail, with sunlight beaming through the trees and the sounds of the forest in the background.
“I will walk in the forest, but I’m never going on a yacht.”
“Penobscot Bay has some of the best sailing in the world.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I have to experience it firsthand. I don’t like the idea of all that water underneath me, and—” she hesitated “—I don’t swim.”
He stopped. “You never learned?”
“I haven’t been in the water since that day.”
Shock spread across his face. “I assumed—that should have been the first thing your mother did for you.”
“She didn’t, and I’m glad she didn’t.”
“Everyone should be able to swim.”
“Not me. I don’t need to because I’m never going in the water.” She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and pulled her back toward him.
“I’m going to teach you.”
She closed her hands over his arms to steady herself, her fingers biting into the rock-hard muscle of his biceps. “I don’t want to learn.”
“I’ll teach you in the Ocean Club pool. There’s a shallow end.”
“I don’t care if you’re offering to teach me in your tub—I’m not interested in learning to swim. I am happy to hike and ride a mountain bike, but you will not persuade me to go on a boat of any sort, and you certainly won’t persuade me to swim.”
“Not even if I promise to keep you safe?”
She looked into those eyes and felt her center of balance shift. “A woman might be many things with you, Ryan Cooper. But I don’t think ‘safe’ is one of them.”