Chapter Seven
MIDNIGHT CAME AND went, and Amy was tired of staring at her stupid clock. She’d wanted to climb into Tony’s arms and fall back into the closeness they’d had before her seduction-gone-bad, when he’d revealed his true feelings for her. But there was no going back. She was in love with an incredibly smart, handsome man who was a numbskull for not seeing her for who she was. She tossed off her blankets, stripped off her favorite pajama top—the one with a kitty lying on its side like Marilyn Monroe, propped up on one elbow, legs crossed, with the words Let me show you what purrfect feels like—and peeled off her underwear. She stomped into the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and secured it around her naked body, then headed outside to her deck. The cold air sent shivers up her body. She didn’t care. It was a dark, moonless night, and she needed dark. She felt dark. The water would be cold, but that was okay, too. She needed to shock her system to rid it of Tony again.
She stepped off her deck and onto the driveway. Darn it. She’d forgotten her flip-flops. Oh well. Bare feet beware, because Amy Maples was on a mission. She walked on her tiptoes across the gravel road to Leanna’s bedroom window and prayed she and Kurt were done with their frisk-fest. All was quiet on the bedroom front, but Amy wasn’t tall enough to see in, and she worried about waking Pepper, so she tiptoed over to Jenna’s back deck and went to her bedroom window instead. The inside of Jenna’s cottage was always immaculately organized, as was the house on the bay where she and Pete spent half their time. The interior was painted white with orange, black, and rock accents. Jenna had a wicked rock obsession, and she kept rocks she’d hand selected from the beaches over the years in every room. A quick glance inside confirmed that she and Pete were sleeping. Pete was lying on his back with the sheets bunched around his waist—thank goodness—and Jenna was draped over his chest. Joey, their female golden retriever, was sprawled across her doggy bed in the corner of the room.
“Jenna,” Amy whispered.
Jenna didn’t budge. Joey lifted her fuzzy head.
“Jenna,” she whispered louder. Joey yawned, put her head back down, and closed her eyes.
“Amy.”
Startled, Amy squealed. Bella covered Amy’s mouth and they dropped to the deck like lead.
“Shut up.” Bella was also wearing a towel and she’d remembered her flip-flops. Her tangled and messy hair had that mattress-romp look.
Had everyone but Amy had sex tonight? She sighed and pushed Bella’s hand from her mouth.
“You scared the life out of me.”
“I was coming to get you,” Bella whispered. “I thought you could use some cheering up.”
“Yeah, well, great minds think alike.”
They got up on their knees and peered into the bedroom. Jenna and Pete were still zonked.
“They both sleep like logs.” Bella put her mouth up to the screen and whispered loudly, “Jenna.”
Jenna lifted her head and blinked several times. A smile formed quickly as she slid from the bed and ran naked to the window. “Chunky-dunking?”
“Heck yeah, and don’t wake Pete. We’ll go get Leanna.” Bella took Amy’s hand and dragged her off the deck and across the grass.
“Ouch. Slow down. I don’t have my flip-flops.” Amy clung to Bella’s arm as Jenna darted off her deck and across the quad with a towel clutched to her chest.
“It’s gonna be a chipples night,” Jenna whispered.
“It’s always a chipples night with you around,” Amy teased. “Put your towel on. Jeez, Jenna. And how can you sleep naked like that with your windows wide open?”
Jenna rolled her eyes and wrapped her towel around her body, tucking the top securely. “Happy?”
“Not really, but happy about your towel, yes.”
“Shh.” Bella glared at them as they approached Leanna’s window. Bella was the tallest of the group, towering over Jenna’s four-foot-eleven stature and a couple of inches taller than Amy at five four. She peeked into the window, then crouched with her back against the house. “She’s not in there.”
“What?” Jenna stood and started jumping up to try to see in the window. Bella yanked her back down, and she fell across Bella’s lap, laughing. Bella slapped her hand over Jenna’s mouth.
“Shh. Do you think I’m blind?” Bella hissed.
“No, but sometimes I wish you were mute,” Leanna said as she came around the corner of the house. “Get away from the window before Pepper hears you.” She motioned them over to the road. “I heard you guys before you even reached the windows, chipples crew.”
Jenna covered her mouth and laughed.
Arm in arm, they walked down to the pool at a snail’s pace, thanks to Amy’s bare feet. Leanna was the only one who’d remembered to bring her pool key.
“What would you do without me?” Leanna teased as she unlocked the gate.
“We’d probably get more sleep.” Jenna crossed her arms over her chest and puckered her lips. “Oh, Kurt. Yes, more, baby, please…”
Leanna swatted her arm. “Shut up before you wake up Theresa, and get in the pool.” Theresa Ottoline was another resident at Seaside. She was also the property manager, and she was a stickler for the rules. Swimming was prohibited after eight o’clock at night, but that never stopped the girls from indulging in their favorite rule-breaking activity.
Chunky-dunking was a ritual that hadn’t changed much over the years. It usually involved wine or cookie dough, but Amy had been too distraught over Tony to think of anything other than being with the girls and washing away the hurt of rejection.
“Theresa’s not here. She had to go back home, but she said she’d be back in a few days,” Leanna explained as Jenna went running by buck naked. Jenna always dropped her towel by the gate, then ran to the far end of the pool to use the stairs. She’d done it for years, and why she dropped her towel so far away when everyone else wore theirs to the far side of the pool was a mystery. Then again, much of what their obsessive-compulsive friend did was a mystery, like collecting rocks and organizing every little thing she could get her hands on.
The girls descended the stairs and dunked under to their shoulders. Amy missed Jessica and the way she always said, Cold, cold, cold, when she dunked under the water. She hoped she and Jamie were having a wonderful honeymoon, and knew that it wouldn’t matter where they were, as long as they were together. They would be happy in a cardboard box if they had each other.
I’d be happy with Tony in a cardboard box. Naked.
Stop…
“This is freaking cold.” Bella reached for the foam noodles and tossed one to each of the girls. They’d all forgotten to pin up their hair, and each had a halo of tendrils floating around them.
Amy’s teeth chattered. “I need the cold. I need to freeze thoughts of Tony out of me.” Amy kicked her feet to keep warm as they drifted toward the deep end of the pool.
“Don’t give up on him, Ames.” Leanna swam over to her.
“Yeah. He looked like a caged tiger tonight before he finally put his arm around you,” Bella added.
“Um, yeah, right. He as much as told me to give up on him, and he only held me because I was cold.” Amy sidestroked away from the group, needing a moment to breathe. She hadn’t counted on them urging her to try again.
“Because he cares,” Jenna added. “If he didn’t care, he’d have let you freeze.”
“Kinda like we are right now.” Leanna laughed. “This would have been easier if we were drunk. Hey, are we having breakfast tomorrow?”
“Of course. I’ll bring the coffee,” Jenna offered.
“Muffins from me. Bella’s house?” Leanna asked.
“Sure.” Bella swam over to Amy. “How can we help, Amy? Want me to beat the stuffing out of him?”
“No one can beat the stuffing out of Tony. He’s…” Amy mulled over her answer. Hot, strong, sexy, frustrating, and totally not in love with me. “Total alpha.” Just not my alpha. She swallowed the sadness before it could swallow her.
Jenna let go of her noodle and hung on to Leanna’s with her. They kicked across the pool and joined Amy and Bella.
“He’s not a total alpha,” Jenna said. “I think only a beta would turn down sex with you.”
Amy rolled her eyes.
“What?” Jenna grabbed Amy’s orange foam noodle and hung on to it beside her.
“He’s totally not a beta. He’s just being thoughtful.” Too darn thoughtful. “He was doing the right thing. I’m so sick of doing the right thing.” As the words left her lips, they tasted acidic and wrong. She knew all too well what doing the wrong thing could lead to.
Leanna and Bella positioned themselves in front of Amy and Jenna and held on to their noodles.
“So this is it? You’re giving up on him?” Bella asked. “Because I’m on the fence. Well, on the noodle really.” She chuckled.
“I don’t think I can ever give up on him, but I want more. I’m ready for real, reciprocated love. A real relationship. I am ready for what each of you have. I don’t know if I can ever open myself up to any other man, but I have to try.” Amy gazed up at Tony’s cottage. She’d spent countless hours on his deck, in his kitchen, sitting on his couch. Mooning over him. She thought of the way he protected her, how he looked at her when the others were talking and something secret and silent passed between them, like they could read each other’s thoughts. Like when any of the girls were so into snuggling with their guys that Amy wanted to turn away, and Tony caught her eye and flashed that smile that said, She’s your friend. Smile and suck it up.
Only that wasn’t what Amy had hoped to see. She wanted to see the devilish grin that was dark and naughty. The one that she’d dreamed of that said, Come here, baby. Let’s show them how it’s done.
TONY HAD NEVER felt like a stalker before. Not in all the years he’d watched over Amy to ensure she got back to her cottage safely after she was out late. Granted, he’d never waited beside her deck, lurking in the darkness before tonight either. He wasn’t actually lurking. He was waiting beneath the tree beside her deck so the others didn’t see him. He’d heard them go down to the pool. Heck, who hadn’t? They laughed like schoolgirls when they were together. It was one of the things he loved about all of his friends at Seaside. The camaraderie of the group and friendship they could all count on. He couldn’t even blame Bella for coming after him like she had at the beach.
Amy and the girls walked up the hill practically on top of one another, clutching their towels and whispering, then bursting out in bouts of laughter. Amy looked adorable with the ends of her hair wet, sticking to her lean shoulders, but even from the short distance away he heard a difference in Amy’s laugh. It wasn’t the carefree laugh he’d come to love. It was laden with emptiness or sadness. Loneliness, maybe? He felt all of those things, but she seemed to be detaching herself quite easily from him, which was why he was there. Waiting. Hoping to explain where he was coming from so they could…What? Go back to the way they were? Yeah, well, that would be a start. He wasn’t certain exactly where tonight would take them, but he was determined to find out, and the missing spark in her laughter made him want to take an even closer look.
“See you guys for breakfast.” Amy’s sweet voice carried in the night air.
Tony waited until the others had gone inside before stepping out of the shadows. He hated that they didn’t wait for her to reach her deck before heading in themselves, even though he knew Seaside was safe. He was wearing his favorite jeans, worn thin on the thighs and threadbare on the bottoms, a black shirt, and a pair of Corona flip-flops. He was probably near invisible in the dark.
Amy was humming a little tune as she approached her deck.
“Amy.”
Startled, she stumbled backward, her eyes wide and fearful.
“It’s okay. It’s only me.” He slid an arm over her bare, chilly shoulder and out of habit drew her trembling body against his chest.
“You scared me.” She clutched his shirt, then flattened her hand and stroked his ribs. He’d forgotten he’d worn her favorite T-shirt. She loved its softness, and seemed to cuddle up against it every time he wore it.
Okay, so maybe he hadn’t forgotten.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to talk.” He lowered his hand to her hip and led her up the stairs of the deck. “Come on. Let’s get you warm first.” He followed her inside and almost immediately felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He was surrounded by her essence. Her simple, feminine touch was everywhere. In the pale blue walls and cream-colored sofa with white and pink accent pillows and the light wooden floors with shaggy throw rugs overtop. Even the photos of the Seaside gang mixed in with beachy, textured artwork felt very Amy.
Amy sat on the couch, shivering, and Tony settled in beside her.
“Don’t you want to get dressed?”
“Yeah, but…” Her teeth chattered, and she lowered her voice. “Why are you here?”
He rose to his feet. “Let me get you a sweatshirt; then we’ll talk.”
She took his hand and pulled him back down to the couch. “Tony, please.” Her whisper wasn’t seductive. It was something between anxious and put out. The way she gently held his hand and the trusting look in her eyes coalesced with the gravity of the years they’d been friends, and it brought him back to the couch beside her.
He cupped his hands around hers and brought them to his lips, then breathed warm air over her cold fingers. He scooted closer to her and drew her body against his, warming her as he stroked her back. He heard her uneven breathing caused by the cold, and he assumed—hoped?—by the heat between them that he couldn’t ignore. He held her until her trembling calmed. She felt so good, so right in his arms, and even covered in chlorine she smelled like Amy. He reluctantly drew away from her, and she shivered again.
He knew he was sending her mixed signals, but he couldn’t stop himself from being close to her or taking care of her. He was drawn to her, and it was getting more difficult by the second to maintain his distance. He pushed from the couch. “At least let me get you a blanket.”
She shook her head and pulled him down beside her again. She could be so sweetly stubborn. He reached behind him and tugged his shirt over his head, then pulled it gently over hers and lifted her arms through the sleeves. The shirt billowed over her petite frame. The sleeves hung to her elbows. He settled it around her body, then loosened her towel beneath, careful to keep her covered but wanting to get the wet towel away from her skin. She gazed up, and her eyes stilled on his bare chest. Tony knew how other women reacted to his muscular physique, but all he cared about was how Amy reacted to him. Her breathing quickened, and she dropped her eyes, nibbling on her lower lip. At least he still had some effect on her. All hope wasn’t lost. He wasn’t even sure exactly what he was hoping for, but he knew he didn’t want Amy to stop being part of his life.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Amy…” He touched his forehead to hers and breathed her in. “This is so hard.”
“Tell me about it.”
He reluctantly sat back and moved his arm to the back of the couch, giving her space, hoping she wouldn’t send him away before they had a chance to talk.
“How did you know I’d go swimming tonight?” She fiddled with the edge of his T-shirt, her eyes still not venturing to his.
He sighed. It was time for complete honesty, no matter what the cost. “I always know.”
That brought her eyes to his. She shook her head, and confusion wrinkled her brow. A strand of wet hair stuck to her cheek, and he carefully moved it away with his index finger.
“I have always known, Amy. I wait up and watch you walk home, just to be sure you don’t fall or run into trouble.”
“You watch? Like…” Her cheeks bloomed with embarrassment.
“No, babe. I don’t watch you down at the pool. Just up here, to make sure you get home okay after the others have gone inside.” Not that he wouldn’t love to see her skinny-dip. He’d like nothing more than to skinny-dip with her, to feel her gentle curves sliding against him.
“How long?”
Tony tried to blink away his lascivious thoughts. “Um…” Nine inches? Typical guy thoughts and responses came easily to him. Denial. Protective mode. Those came reflexively. It was the other stuff, the stuff from the heart that didn’t come as easily.
“How long have you watched me?”
“I don’t know,” he lied. He knew exactly how long. Since the first time he caught wind that they’d been skinny-dipping, when they were teenagers. He wanted to be honest with her. “Forever, I guess.”
She nodded, and her eyes grew serious as they dropped to his chest again. “You have a new scar.”
He glanced down at the thin white scar that snaked along his left pectoral muscle. “Yeah. Rough ride in the spring. I texted you about it. Cane Garden Bay, remember? In the Caribbean.”
She held her finger an inch from his chest, her eyes trained on his, as if she were waiting for him to stop her. When he didn’t, she ran her finger over the scar. “I remember.”
He felt himself getting aroused and laced his fingers with hers to keep from losing his mind. The cottage was quiet, save for the sounds of the leaves rustling in the wind through the back window screen. He wanted to pull her against him and close his eyes, drift away to sleep with her warm and safe against him. He wished that she’d somehow inherently know what he was there to say. But as he looked at her expectant, trusting eyes, he knew it was time to tell her the truth. It was time to tell her all the things she’d never let him say fourteen years ago.
“Amy, I’m sorry I hurt you.”
Her eyes dropped to her lap, and he drew her chin up so he could see them again.
“Tony, please. You did me a favor. My feelings for you were holding me back, and now…” She shrugged, but she didn’t look thankful.
Thank heaven for that.
“It’s okay that I’m not your type, Tony. I get it. I’m—”
“Not my…” His breathing quickened. “Amy, you are one hundred percent my type. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see how hard this is for me?” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, and when he saw her shaking her head and withdrawing from him, he was sure he’d blown it.
“Stop.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Just…stop.”
“No, Amy. I won’t stop. You need to know how I feel. How I really feel. How I’ve felt for years.”
She looked away, and he got up and paced, too frustrated to sit any longer. “Don’t you see? You’re Amy Maples. You’re sweet and good and all things tender wrapped up in this beautiful person. You’re generous and giving, and—”
Amy pushed to her feet. The towel fell to the floor, and gravity sent his T-shirt down to her upper thighs. “And not your type.” She crossed her arms and the shirt inched up higher.
Tony forced himself to look into her hurt-filled eyes.
“That’s not true. I said that because I’m not the man you need, Amy, not because I don’t want you.” He closed the distance between them and couldn’t help touching her arms. Everything felt different, more intense, more important and urgent. He knew he’d been fooling himself by thinking that after knowing she might be gone forever he wouldn’t do everything he could to keep her with him. Her lower lip was trembling, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the cold, because he could feel heat coming off of her, drawing them together until their thighs collided. It was all he could do to remain focused on making her understand where he was coming from. But he had to. It was now or never. He couldn’t let her drift further away.
“Amy, you deserve to be put on a pedestal. You deserve flowers and candy and a man who will always put you first. You deserve a man who will spend every minute of every day taking care of you, loving you.”
Her hands splayed across his abs, causing his thoughts to teeter between apology and desire.
“And you’re not that guy.”
It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t try to respond. Silence stretched between them, doing nothing to dampen the heat that spread like wildfire beneath her palms.
“I want it to be you,” she said with hopeful eyes.
“So do I, Amy, but…” Had she buried their past so deep that she truly didn’t remember? “Amy, what happened between us wasn’t a mistake.”
She turned away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her shoulders rounded forward. Tony touched her arm with his fingertips, just to ground her. To let her know he wasn’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t going to let her send him away this time.
“Yes, you do,” he said firmly.
Her wet hair stuck to her back as she shook her head.
“Amy, we were in love. We were kids. We didn’t—”
She covered her ears with her hands.
Tony took a deep breath and pushed on. “We made love a dozen times, and I know it was my fault. I never should have made love to you without protection. I take full responsibility, but please, Amy. Please don’t shut me out this time.”
He felt her trembling and stepped closer, pressing his chest to her back and circling her waist with his arms.
“I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to be there for you.”
She broke free and crossed the room, waving her hands behind her, motioning for him to stop. To leave. To shut up.
“Amy…”
“Stop it, okay? Stop it. Just stop. I can’t go there.” Her words were garbled by sobs as she leaned both palms on the kitchen counter and bowed her head.
He wasn’t going to lose her again. He’d come this far. He had to say his piece, no matter how much she fought him on it.
“We never dealt with it, Amy, and we have to.”
She spun around with venom in her eyes. “I dealt with it, Tony. I moved on. It never happened.”
In three determined steps they were toe to toe. He didn’t touch her, didn’t want to get her any angrier.
“It happened,” he insisted just above a whisper.
She shook her head, and her body trembled.
“It happened, Amy, and it wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”
Tears streaked her cheeks as she inhaled a jagged breath. “I…No.”
“Yes, Amy. It happened. Look at me. Please.”
She stared at the floor as she whispered, “I never blamed you.”
“You didn’t have to. I blamed myself. Every minute of every day.”
She lifted her red-rimmed eyes. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered. “It was mine.”
Tony couldn’t keep himself from touching her, comforting her. He brought his hands to her cheeks and looked directly into her haunted eyes.
“Baby, you’re wrong. So very wrong.”
For a few seconds they stared into each other’s eyes. Years of hurt passing between them like shards of glass, until Amy shrugged from his grip again and crossed the room with too much rancor in each step. It cut Tony to his core. How long could she pretend she was okay?
“I moved on. You did, too, so let it be. No one knows. I made sure of that.”
Man, that’s what he’d thought. She’d taken the burden alone, without him, without the girls, and who knew how that had eaten her up. How had she survived it? He’d done the same, shouldered the burden of their loss alone, but he was a man, used to dealing with hard knocks and difficult situations. He’d wanted to be there to help Amy, to share the pain and help her heal. To build a life together, a future…the only future he ever wanted.
“I haven’t moved on,” he admitted.
Amy blew out a half laugh, half breath. “Yeah, right. You have girlfriends galore. You have a successful business. You’re an amazing surfer—”
“No kidding, Amy. You know me. If anyone in this blessed world knows me, it’s you. Burying my feelings, using that frustration to excel in other ways and try to prove myself worthy is what I do best. Wearing a coat of armor so thick it smothers me but never showing it to the world. That’s me. Those women were camouflage.” He turned his back to try to gain control of the burn in his gut.
“Don’t you know why I take care of you? Why I make sure you don’t get hurt by other jerks who are only looking out for themselves? Don’t you see how hard it is for me to leave when I carry you home? How I nearly lost my mind when the guys at that bar were checking you out? Don’t you know why I’ve never had a single long-term relationship?” He turned around and closed the distance between them again.
She turned her back to him and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Because of you, Amy. Because of us. Those women were substitutes. Every single one of them. I don’t know if I can be the man you want and the man you need, but darn it, I want to try.”
She turned back around, her gaze and voice softer. “You’re the best man I know, Tony.”
“Bull. The best man wouldn’t have given up when you sent me away. The best man would never have made love to you without protection and risked a pregnancy in the first place.”
She circled her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his chest, and his anger turned to sadness, softening his tone.
“The best man wouldn’t have filled the gaps with other women.”
“Tony…”
His body was shaking now, darn it. He felt like he could barely breathe.
“You’re strong and sensitive. You’re thoughtful and more of a man than Rambo. Any guy would have…” Fresh tears filled her eyes. “Would have been with other women. You did what you had to in order to move on, to survive, just like I did.”
He closed his eyes to try to center his thoughts. When he opened them, he nearly gave in to her trusting, honest gaze and the desire building within him, but she’d sent him away once before, and he knew he couldn’t survive it again. And he’d turned her away so many times, he wasn’t sure she could survive it if it wasn’t real. He had to be sure this time. Sure of her love and sure that he could be all she’d ever need.
Her eyes remained trained on his as she drew her shoulders back and spoke in a confident, warm tone. “And you’re the only man I want.”
His breath left his lungs in a rush. He’d waited fourteen years to hear those words, and now he wasn’t sure he was worthy. He moved her wet hair from her shoulders and stroked her cheek. His words tumbled painfully from his lips.
“I’m not the best man, Amy. You’re the only woman I want in my life, and I didn’t protect you at a time when it mattered most.”
She stepped back and looked up at him through wet lashes. “You did what mattered most. You loved me.”
He pulled her against him again, needing her close in case she didn’t want anything to do with him after everything they’d said and what was yet to be said. In case this was all he’d ever have. He drew in a deep breath and held it, preparing for her response, clenching his teeth a few times to strengthen his resolve for honesty.
“We were so careful all those nights we made love that summer. That night in the woods, I was too weak. I’m a man, Amy. I should have been thinking of you, not me. You should always come first. All I could think about was being intimate with you, loving you, joining together in a way that would make me feel whole again. Only you could make me feel so loved, and damn it…”
He swallowed against the tears welling in his eyes with the memories of how she’d freed him. She was the only one who had noticed the changes in his father that summer. How many times had he hammered Tony’s worthlessness into his head? You won’t amount to anything. A surfer? Surfing is for losers. Get a job. Tony had never told a soul. Not once. He hadn’t even told Amy. But Amy had known. He had no idea how. His father had been careful to say things when no one was around. He’d been slick like that those few difficult weeks, so different from the man he’d been before that summer. But Amy knew. She’d eased all the hurt from what his father had said when she’d told Tony at the beginning of that summer, just as she told him now, You’re the best man I know. But that humid June night he hadn’t been the best man. He’d been selfish.
And she’d never wavered from loving him over the following weeks. Until after she’d gone to college, when they’d returned for that fateful weekend. The weekend they’d lost the baby he’d had no idea they’d conceived.
“I knew it was risky. I knew that withdrawing wasn’t foolproof. I was older than you. I knew the risks, and I still did it. You need a guy who won’t ever be that weak.” He looked away, not wanting to see the disappointment he was sure was filling her eyes.
She laughed, a sweet, unexpected, tear-laced laugh.
Laughed.
He looked down at her, and she was smiling through her tears.
“Did you take a vow of chastity that I’m not aware of?” she asked.
He couldn’t even form a response. He couldn’t find one funny thing about their discussion.
“Tony…” She pressed her lips to the center of his chest, and he felt the walls around his heart crumble a little more. “I can’t deal with the past, not now. But you’re human. Any man would have made love to me in that way and filled that empty place with other women when I sent you away.”
“Not when they loved someone else.”
She dropped her eyes, and in that moment he realized what she wasn’t saying. She’d been with other men. Of course she had. He’d known that, hadn’t he?
“Yeah, they would,” she whispered.
He pushed away thoughts of her with anyone else and focused on them. “Bull. Caden and Peter, do you think they would be with other women? Even for a second? Kurt, for Pete’s sake?”
She laughed again. “Uh, yeah. If they’d been…if they’d gone through…”
She couldn’t even say the words, and he knew, at least on some level, that they’d never be able to move forward until they both dealt with their loss.
“It’s normal,” she whispered.
“I never wanted to keep things secret back then, and I allowed myself to be swayed. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that you deserve a man who is better than normal.”
“Tony, I don’t know where you got the idea that I should be put on a pedestal, but I shouldn’t. I’m the one who sent you away. I’m the one who couldn’t handle it.” Her thighs were still pressed against his. She had to feel how just being close to her again, allowing himself to feel again, with her, changed his very being, swamping him with memories of their love and the connection he’d never stopped feeling—memories of their bodies as close as conjoined twins.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” he said.
“Tony.” She sighed. “I’m addicted to my label maker. I have the body of a prepubescent girl, and I can’t hold my liquor.” She ran her fingers up his back, sending heat to all the right—and wrong-for-the-moment—places. “I can’t deal with heavy things. I hide from them. I don’t deserve a second look, much less to be put up on a pedestal.”
“Let me be the judge of what you deserve, okay?”
She leaned in so close her breath brushed over his bare chest. Torture. Pure, unadulterated torture.
“No,” she whispered. “You aren’t a good judge of what I need, because what I need is right here, right now. We don’t have to deal with the past. I have no idea why you think you’re not good enough to be with me, but from the feel of things, I think you want to be.”
He narrowed his eyes and gripped her shoulders. “I never said I wasn’t good enough. I said you deserved better. There’s a difference.” He was powerless to resist sliding his hand down her hip to the curve of her thigh, inciting a sexy mew from Amy.
“You’re the best, Tony. Can’t you see that? You’re one of the top three surfers in the country. People pay money for you to tell them how to live their lives. Who could be better than you?” Her breathing became shallow as he dropped his other hand to her thigh.
He had driven himself to succeed in his career, but he’d never pushed himself to be the best boyfriend he could be. He’d pretty much spent his life avoiding being a boyfriend, because every other woman was a substitute for the one he really wanted. The one he really needed. The woman he truly believed deserved more than a guy who hadn’t fought for her all those years ago when she’d sent him away, a guy who had never been able to commit to a long-term relationship since—and worried now that he might let her down.
“It’s not about how successful I am, Amy. I need to prove to myself that I can be the man you deserve, and I need to prove it to you before I can call you mine again. I need to know I’ll never risk your health again. I mean, I know it already, but I need to prove it to us both.” He wanted to kiss her, to slide his hands across her beautiful body and finally take what had felt like his for way too long, but he held back. They needed to deal with the past, but he couldn’t say that now. She’d come a long way. For the first time in fourteen years, she acknowledged that they’d been together. That was huge. A start. A frigging blessing.
“Maybe you don’t know what I need after all,” she challenged.
He breathed deeply, trying to ignore the way every bit of him wanted to give in to what she wanted. But Tony wasn’t a man who believed in doing things he’d regret. Not anymore, and especially not with Amy.
“I know you better than you know yourself. Can’t you see that?” He tangled his hands in her hair and tilted her head back. “You’re everything to me, Amy. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of before I fall asleep.” He pulled her impossibly closer and lowered his mouth so their lips were a heartbeat away.
“It’s your voice I hear pushing me through those treacherous swells, and it’s your voice I hear in my head right now, guiding me to do the right thing by you.”
He had to kiss her. Just one kiss. He wasn’t strong enough to leave without one kiss, restaking his claim, showing her how much he loved her.
“I’m not worthy of a pedestal,” she whispered.
“You’re so very worthy.” He paused to keep himself from lowering his lips to hers.
“Statues are put on pedestals,” she whispered, blinking up at him. Her fingernails, which had grazed his skin so lightly, dug into his back. “Statues are cold and hard. I’m warm and soft in all the right places, not at all like a statue.”
She was reaching so far out of the way she normally behaved that he clenched his jaw just to try to remain in control.
“You say all the right things, Amy, but I know you. You’re going to wake up conflicted tomorrow, and I don’t blame you.”
His heart threatened to burst through his chest as he tightened his grip in her silky hair and whispered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do this. It will only muddy the waters, but, Amy…I can’t wait a second longer.”
He sealed his lips over hers, and years of want and lust came crashing like a wave, holding him spellbound as she opened her mouth to him and slid her tongue over his. A storm of emotions rocked through him: greed, lust, disbelief, and a swell of love that seemed as endless as the sea. She tasted sweet and ripe, like she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment. Her body molded to his effortlessly, naturally, as he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, feeling the tension and excitement as real as when he entered the barrel of a wave, knowing it had the ability to drown him and needing it too badly to turn away.
He lowered her to the bed and followed her down. She circled his neck with her arms and arched up with a needy moan when he tried to reluctantly draw away from her. He moved beside her on the bed, finally pulling back from her delicious mouth and their mind-numbing kiss. He brushed her hair from her forehead and kissed the corners of her mouth, feeling her hot breath against his cheeks, spurring him to take more than he intended. He kissed her forehead, the soft indentation beside her eye, her jaw, and heaven help him for being weak, he allowed himself a luscious taste of her collarbone. She was his drug, even after all these years.
She arched her neck and fisted her hands in his hair, jolting him back to reality.
“Yes.” Her needy whisper cut him to his core.
He needed more of her. All of her. He didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t ready. Would he ever be? He sealed his lips over hers, probing, memorizing, claiming her mouth as his. She met him stroke for eager stroke. His hand slid down her rib cage to the hem of his T-shirt she was wearing and met her bare hip bone.
What was he doing?
He forced himself to tear his lips from hers and pulled back with a gasp for air.
“We have to stop.”
“No.” She pulled him toward her again.
He smiled at her determination, so reminiscent of that incredible—and treacherous—summer.
“Tony, please.”
He was quickly careening toward giving himself up to her. To be one hundred percent utterly and completely hers once again was everything he wanted. He was weakening again. She needed strong.
He needed to stop.
Now.
“Babe,” he panted out. “We have to stop.”
“Noooooo.” She buried her face in his chest and clutched his arms for dear life.
“I’ll never forgive myself if we do this, Amy. Not now.”
Not until I know we can deal with the past and move forward without regret. Not until I’m sure you won’t send me away again. He couldn’t say either of those things; all he could do was frame it in a way that hopefully wouldn’t scare her off.
“Not until I can prove to myself, and to you, that I can be the man you deserve and the only man you’ll ever need.”