Chapter Eleven
DESIREE HUMMED TO the music streaming from her phone as she cooked breakfast Friday morning. She’d risen with the sun, or rather, with Cosmos, who had claimed the foot of her bed as his own last night. She didn’t mind. She’d missed Rick, and she’d woken up excited to see him. And, she realized, to face the day. Yesterday she and Violet had broken new ground when they’d realized they were on the same page with regard to the renovations. Who knew two sisters who grew up on opposite sides of the world could agree on something so big so easily? They were in complete agreement with leaving the structure of the house intact, but as they’d found out last night while they were shopping, their decorating tastes were still miles apart. Desiree preferred bright colors like coral and white, while Violet went for purple and black. They’d have to deal with that at some point and come to a compromise for the kitchen and bath renovations, but for now Desiree was holding tight to their budding kinship.
Her heart skipped a beat as she glanced at the note Rick had left on the front porch, tucked inside a bottle and tied with twine. She’d nearly tripped over Cosmos when they’d found it on their way outside this morning. He’d also left an array of gorgeous tiger lilies, the renovation drawings, and the sandals she’d left in the truck. She’d taken a picture of the beautiful way he’d laid it all out and sent it to Emery with the message, Hot Jet Ski guy is the most romantic man I’ve ever met! Emery had replied, If he has a brother who is single, I’ll be there tonight! which had sparked a phone call that had lasted almost an hour.
It had taken Desiree a solid twenty minutes to get the note out of the bottle, and she’d been beaming ever since. She read it for the umpteenth time.
Good morning, beautiful,
I’m going to bed wishing you were in my arms, but I hope you had fun with Violet. Take a look at the kitchen and bathroom plans and let me know if you want revisions. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Wear something that can get wet and dirty, and bring extra clothes.
Now you’re thinking naughty thoughts.
I bet you’re blushing, too.
Love that.
So, so much.
Xo, R.
She’d texted him earlier, and promised he’d be generously compensated. Desiree wanted to blame Violet’s influence on that racy comment, but this was all her, and it felt good to own it. Although her sister had taken great pleasure in teasing her last night about their “rooftop romp.” So much so that by the end of the evening, Desiree was not only no longer embarrassed by it, but she was also tossing teases into the pot. They’d definitely bonded last night. They might not be besties, but they were making progress. Violet had even agreed to help her organize their mother’s studio, which Desiree was thankful for. She wasn’t looking forward to facing it alone.
She tossed a piece of cooked egg to Cosmos, who was curled up on his bed by the door to the patio, tuckered out from their earlier walk. They’d wound through the quiet back roads, bringing memories of when Desiree and her grandmother had taken walks together in the early mornings. She’d always been an early riser, and this morning, after their walk, she’d gone down to the Wellfleet Market and picked up groceries. She’d chatted with a few women at the market, and noticed a sign for a yoga class taking place on the beach. Emery would love that. Life there was small-town quiet, just like back home. But nothing compared to the sights and sounds of Cape Cod Bay. Or the sights and sounds of Rick, she thought as she dished her eggs onto a plate, added a few blackberries and a garnish of twisted orange slices.
“What is that scrumptious smell?” Violet stretched as she ambled into the kitchen. She leaned over Desiree’s shoulder, smelling of mint toothpaste. “Have enough for me?”
Desiree snagged a piece of toast from the toaster, set it on the plate and handed it to Violet. “Brie and blackberry omelet. Enjoy.”
“Someone’s been busy this morning.” Violet carried her plate to the table as Desiree served herself. “Did you pick the flowers? They’re a nice touch.”
“Rick left them on the porch, along with the drawings for the kitchen and baths.” She’d used the glass bottle as a vase. The pretty flowers brightened up the whole kitchen.
“Wow, he’s really going for boyfriend of the year, isn’t he?”
“He’s definitely a thoughtful guy.” And an amazing kisser, listener, toucher…
Violet took a bite of the omelet and her eyes widened. “Mm. Des, this is incredible. What other hidden talents do you have besides picking up hot guys and cooking?”
She handed Violet a cup of coffee and sat down to eat. “I’m hardly talented at picking up hot guys. Rick was a fluke.” The best fluke ever, but still a fluke. She’d never actually tried to pick up a man, but she was a talented cook. “My father taught me to cook. We used to watch the Food Network and choose recipes to try, and on weekends, I’d make fancy breakfasts for us. Now the only person I get to make fancy breakfasts for is Emery. She takes full advantage, showing up at my house at the crack of dawn every few weeks and claiming she’s emaciated because her fridge is empty.”
“The more I hear about her, the more I like her. You should invite her up.”
“Maybe.” As much as she loved Emery, her first thought was that if she was entertaining her friend, she’d have less time alone with Rick. Selfish? Yes, but just this once, she wanted to be.
They reviewed the plans and called Rick to let him know they were perfect. He said he’d get them to Rob, and after making Desiree blush about her compensatory comment, they ended the call, and she and Violet ventured up to the studio.
“I don’t see why you’re always blushing.” Violet stood in the middle of the studio, surveying the mess. “Sex is rejuvenating. It’s like the fountain of youth. And not just sex, but all that comes with it.” She laugh-snorted. “See how I did that? All that comes with it? The weight of a man’s hard body pressing down on you, the look in their eyes when they’re just about to lose it. Nothing in this world can bring couples closer together than an act of pure, raw passion.”
“Trust,” Desiree said without thinking.
“Well, duh. Even if you’re just fucking and there are no emotions involved, you have to trust the guy. But when there are emotions? Passion can take a couple from zero to love in a heartbeat.” Violet shrugged. “So, you shouldn’t be embarrassed because you’ve slept with the guy.”
“I told you last night that we haven’t done that.” Desiree crossed the room, no longer thinking about the uncomfortable feelings her mother’s studio evoked. Her hammering heart had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with the desires she’d been trying to tamp down since she’d spent the night with Rick. She didn’t want to tamp them down anymore, and Violet’s diatribe all but opened the gates. Desiree wanted to run them down and let her inner sexy girl come charging out.
“I don’t see what’s wrong with this,” Violet said, snapping Desiree out of her fantasy. “Why does she need drywall or organization to work? She’s an artist. This feels fantastic to me. Inspiring, without any confines to stagnate her thought process. I say we leave it as is.”
She went to the corner of the room and disappeared through a doorframe Desiree hadn’t noticed the first time she’d gone in. “I guess you didn’t check this closet when you were looking for signs. Come help me. That big wooden thing in the back is a sidewalk sign. See the hinges at the top? It folds out, and you can paint the store name on the sides.” She frantically tore open a big cardboard box.
“What is all this stuff?”
Violet’s jaw dropped open. “Pottery supplies, all brand-new! Clays and glazes, stains, tools.” She pointed to the equipment in the back of the closet. “That’s a kiln, and behind it? Those are pottery wheels. One’s motorized. And that shiny one has a kick wheel. I get off on kick wheels.”
They dragged the sign, machines, and supplies into the room, and Violet began emptying the box.
“Aren’t you worried about using her stuff?”
Violet scoffed. “She tricked us into coming here. As far as I’m concerned, it’s all fair game.”
“I thought we were organizing?”
“That was before we found all of this!” Violet held up two boxes of clay. “I haven’t done pottery in two years. I miss it like you’d miss schedules if you had to go without. But we need signs, so get busy painting them. It’s not like anyone’s going to come to the gallery until we get the signs up and hand out the flyers. Knowing Lizza, she probably painted on the beach and sold her paintings to people who walked by. I promise we’ll get on schedule tomorrow.”
She inspected the potter’s wheel with such a joyous expression, Desiree didn’t want to take that away from her. “You do realize you just promised me you’d get on a schedule, right?”
Violet waved her hand dismissively. “I’d give you an orgasm if you’ll let me do this for a while.”
“Ew.”
Violet laughed. “You definitely need to hang out with me more. You’re too literal. Either that, or you need a good fuck.”
Desiree rolled her eyes. “Why are you so crude?” She looked over her mother’s paints and brushes.
“Why are you so uptight?”
Desiree let her comment go as she gazed out the window, trying to figure out what to paint on the sign and wondering if she could still paint. After a while she carried an easel over by the window and secured a canvas to it. She was annoyed, because she wasn’t uptight, but then again, she knew Violet was probably annoyed with her for taking issue with her cursing like a sailor. On the other hand, we’re in the same room and about to embark on something for a common goal. The teacher in her thought that was well worth a little annoyance.
“Aren’t you going to use the wooden sign?” Violet asked as she made room on a table for her supplies.
“I don’t even know if I can paint anymore, Vi. It’s been years, and I have one chance to get the sign right. I figured I’d practice.” She gazed out the window, taking in the long dune grass blowing in the breeze and the ridge where the dune crested and the world seemed to fall away. A little boy with a blue floppy hat was playing at the edge of the water. He put his toes in and dashed across the sand. Her mind reeled back to her first few summer vacations there with Violet and their grandmother. Desiree had wanted Violet’s attention so badly, she’d made a total pest of herself, following her sister everywhere, begging her to play, or talk, or swim.
She glanced across the room at Violet, remembering what she’d said about growing up traveling with Lizza and never having friends for long enough to build relationships. Maybe Violet was right, and she should count herself lucky for growing up with the stability and comfort of one house, one community, and friends like Emery, whom she’d known forever. The thing was, she hated knowing that her sister had been lonely. It made her wish for those times with Violet even more.
As she selected and lined up the paints, her thoughts turned to Rick. He was rustling up so many parts of her that she’d either buried or forgotten, or simply hadn’t realized she possessed. It was definitely possible to build relationships in short periods of time. The heart had a way of embracing certain people for a million mysterious reasons. She glanced at her smart-mouthed, tattooed sister and found herself hoping Violet would find someone, if only for a few days, or a week, or a summer, who would help her experience the parts of herself she was hiding, too.
DESIREE STARTED WHEN Violet tapped her shoulder, causing her paintbrush to slip to the edge of the canvas.
“Vi,” Desiree complained, and tried to blend in the smear with the rest of the rippling water.
“That’s me,” Violet said in a small voice. “I remember that striped dress. Grandma made it, and I hated it.”
Desiree blinked several times, feeling as if she were coming out of a fog. “I was just painting the water…” She studied the painting. Bold strokes and fine lines in dozens of shades of blues, grays, purples, and pinks brought the bay to life. Long blades of dune grass sprang up between rough wooden boards, on which she’d painted Violet from behind, as a little girl. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her thin arms wrapped around them. She’d painted from memory, without any cognitive thought.
“That’s the deck at the edge of the dunes.” Violet touched Desiree’s arm, as if she needed something to stabilize her.
“You used to sit out there, brooding. I’d watch you sometimes.”
“Des, this is amazing. Look at what you’ve created. My hair looks like it’s blowing in the wind. And that ugly striped dress looks like it’s moving, too. You even cinched the waist with that stupid, girly bow. You could sell this.”
“No,” she said too harshly. “I mean. It isn’t that good.” And it’s you. I want to keep it. She dropped the paintbrush in the bottle of water and stared down at her hands, unable to believe she’d been so transfixed. She turned away from the painting, unsure of how she felt about this connection to her mother.
“Des, you have to paint. You haven’t moved from this spot since morning, and it’s”—she pulled out her phone—“five thirty.”
“What? Oh no. Can you please, please, please clean up? Rick’s going to be here in a few minutes, and I need to shower and change.”
“IT WAS LIKE I was in this trance while I was painting,” Desiree said, as she and Rick walked down the beach toward the resort. “It kind of freaks me out. I’ve spent my whole life trying not to be her.” She’d shown him the painting she’d made, and her artistic talent had blown him away.
He adjusted the backpack with their extra clothes on his shoulder and drew her against him, knowing exactly what she needed. Because after last night, it was what he needed, too. He gazed into her eyes, and as he’d hoped, her troubled look eased. Heat and a sense of something bigger whirled around them, between them, inside him, unstoppable and explosive. Her hair swept over her cheek, and he gathered her long locks in one hand, holding it away from her face, earning the sweet smile he’d dreamed of last night.
“I know you’re bothered by your newfound talent, but someday you might feel differently. You might be glad you have something in common with your mother. You never know how things will change. It doesn’t mean that you’ll turn into her or treat other people, or yourself, differently. It’s just one of those things that you might one day be thankful for.”
He realized he was asking her to accept something that was probably as hard for her as his father’s death was for him. But what he’d said was true. Feelings about people and events could change on a dime. No one knew that better than Rick. Until the night he’d told Desiree about the reasons he no longer sailed, he hadn’t wanted to, or been able to, share it with anyone. And now he wanted to conquer it.
She breathed deeply. “It’s just so hard. Accepting that I’m like her scares me, but I guess you could be right.”
“I could be wrong, too,” he said honestly. “But being with you has helped me to see that I need to deal with the parts of my father’s death that still haunt me. I want to do that more than I ever have, and that’s because of you. I’m not trying to push your mother on you. I know how much she’s hurt you. I’m just saying, maybe you should leave that door open until you’ve had time to think about it. Painting seems to have brought you and Violet closer together. It might be worth thinking about instead of closing that door completely.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
She went up on her toes and touched her lips to his, and when she pressed her hands to his neck, he took the kiss deeper. She made one of those sexy noises he loved, and desire flooded him. When she melted against him, rubbing her soft body all over his, and pushed her hands into his hair, heat shot to his groin.
He reluctantly tore his mouth away and looked down at his erection. Drake would have a field day with that. “Not exactly family friendly.”
“Oh my.” Her cheeks flamed, but her smile turned wicked.
“Jesus.” He took a step away, trying to calm down while she stood there beaming, looking hot and fuckable and so damn lovable he could barely stand it.
She sauntered up to him with an extra-confident sway of her hips and said, “Put your feet in the water. It’s cold.”
“Nothing will help if you keep acting like that.” He swept her into his arms and carried her into waist-deep water. She clung to him, but she didn’t scream or complain. She lowered her lips to his, kissing him deeply.
“Better?” She touched her finger to his lower lip, and he sucked it into his mouth. Her eyes darkened, and she slid a second finger between his lips. “You’re definitely going to the naughty corner.”
“That’s not exactly a threat.”
“It was meant as a promise.” A glimmer of mischief rose in her eyes, and they kissed again, long and deep, which did nothing to lessen his arousal. He wished to hell he hadn’t arranged a surprise for Desiree. He’d carry her right up to his cottage and love her until night fell, and then he’d love her all the way until morning.
When he finally carried her back to the beach, she asked, “Where are we going that I needed to bring extra clothes?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Her eyes widened with excitement. “Another sexy slumber party?”
“How can you be so damn cute and the hottest woman I’ve ever known? I want to have a slumber party with you every night. In my bed. Your bed. The widow’s walk. The beach. My truck. Wherever you’d like, as long as we’re together. But I don’t think much slumbering will be going on.”
She pressed her lips together, but her smile bloomed anyway. “I want that, too.”