Barefoot Season (25 page)

He drew back slightly and cupped her face in his hands. “Carly, are you—?”

Sure, ready, in the mood? She had no idea what he was going to say and she suddenly didn’t give a damn. She needed him
now
. Naked, ready and taking her as fast as possible. In case he was confused by her intent, she pulled off her V-neck sweater, tossed it aside, then undid her bra. After grabbing his hands, she put them on her bare breasts.

“You’re my kind of woman,” he whispered, before claiming her with a kiss that made her toes curl.

It turned out he was her kind of man, as well. He got her naked in about sixteen seconds, then locked the door, stripped off his own clothes and led her to the sofa.

He kissed her all over, lingering between her legs. She arched toward him, feeling the perfect rhythm of his tongue, then lost herself in an orgasm that poured through her like liquid pleasure.

He moved to her breasts, sucking deeply, teasing the hard tips, at the same time rubbing her clitoris with his fingers. She came again, this time longer and louder. When he finally fumbled in his jeans pocket for a condom, she caught her breath long enough to push him onto his back next to the coffee table.

He slipped on the protection; she straddled him and rode him until they were both groaning and breathless.

Sweat coated her back and between her breasts. She had a feeling she was flushed and a little raw in places. A quick glance at the clock told her less than ten minutes had passed since she and Sam had walked in the room. She should probably be embarrassed. And she would be. Tomorrow. Right now she felt too good.

She slid off of him and sat on the carpet. Clothes were scattered everywhere. The empty condom wrapper was by her knee. She picked it up and held it toward him.

“Former Boy Scout?”

He sat next to her, bare legs stretched out. “Tradition. I’ve had one with me since I was a hopeful teenager.”

“It’s not the same one, is it?”

He gave her a very satisfied grin. “No. Not that same one.”

She knew that there were a couple of stretch marks from her pregnancy and that her breasts weren’t as perky as they had been a few years ago. That her tummy wasn’t flat, and hey, like most women alive, she hated her thighs. But right now she didn’t care. Besides, Sam’s body was good enough for both of them.

She knew she should probably say something. Explain that she didn’t usually have sex with strangers, nor was she usually so…orgasmic. But then she decided it didn’t matter. They were both single adults who’d used protection. It wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs.

“I need to get back to work,” she said.

“You going to dress first? I’m not saying the male guests wouldn’t love the show, but I’m not sure how their wives would feel.”

“Good point. Clothes, then work.”

He stood and helped her to her feet, then pulled her close and kissed her again.

“Thanks,” he told her.

“You’re welcome. I needed that.”

“Anytime you need it again, just let me know.”

“You’re a giver.”

“That’s me.”

She appreciated his lighthearted attitude. Her mind was still in orgasm fog, so she wanted to say as little as possible. Sam was great and she was thrilled by the close encounter, but wasn’t sure she wanted or needed anything more. Better to err on the side of caution.

They dressed, then he kissed her one last time before slipping out. She would follow in a few minutes.

As she waited, she leaned against the door and smiled. That had been perfect, she thought, her legs still a little weak. No matter what else happened, today was going to be a very good day.

* * *

Monday night, Michelle stayed late to go through the receivables for the weekend. Every aspect of the inn had done well. They’d put a lot of items in the gift shop on sale. Not huge discounts, but ten or fifteen percent. Those big sale signs had worked. They’d moved nearly three thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise.

The restaurant had been jammed, with people in line for both breakfast and lunch. Carly had logged tickets in and out with the servers before every shift. From what Michelle could see, they matched up perfectly with the cash register, so that was a relief. The inn’s bank balance would be a happy number come the morning, which meant bills could be paid and the extra put away for winter.

Carly walked into her office, a bottle of red wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. She held up both.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

Michelle hesitated, then nodded and shut down her computer. She followed Carly out to the back patio.

It was nearly nine. The sun had just set and the sky was a blend of pinks and blues, with a bit of orange near the horizon. The air was still and not too cool.

A small table stood between two padded lounge chairs. On it were a wine opener and a plate of brownies.

“Nice,” Michelle said, taking a seat and stretching out her leg. The dull ache faded to something better than manageable.

“I was going to go to bed early,” Carly admitted as she went to work on the bottle. “Gabby and I made these after dinner. She was exhausted from camp and went to bed but suddenly I wasn’t tired.” She handed Michelle a glass of wine.

Carly settled into her lounger, then reached for a brownie. “No nuts,” she said. “I remembered you don’t like them.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Carly sipped her wine, then took a bite. “We had an amazing weekend.”

“We did. The restaurant did great. I appreciate you following up on the tickets with the servers.”

“All the money’s accounted for?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. I figured we’d have a big crowd. This was not the weekend to be losing money.”

“I’m going to be taking in the mortgage payment tomorrow,” Michelle said. “Along with what’s owed for back payments. That will wipe me out but it’ll be worth it.”

Carly glanced at her. “I’m sorry Brenda screwed this all up. I mean that. I wish I could have stopped her.”

Michelle nodded slowly. “I believe you. Part of me thinks she was just stupid and part of me wonders if she did it on purpose. The inn always mattered more to me than her. For me it was my future. I think she felt it was a trap.”

“You worked your butt off here,” Carly said. “I remember back in high school. You’d leave as soon as classes were over and come back here. It was like you had a full-time job.”

“I felt like I didn’t have a choice.”

“Now you’re back. It’s going great. You’ll pay off the mortgages and be able to relax.”

Michelle nodded, then nibbled on the brownie, letting the moist, cakelike texture coat her tongue. She followed that with a sip of wine and knew she was about as close to heaven as she was going to get today.

“I knew my mom wouldn’t take care of things,” she admitted. “It turns out I was right.” She sighed. “You were the smart one in high school. Hanging out with friends.”

“I would rather have been with you,” Carly told her.

“You came and helped me here.”

“Until senior year.”

When it had all gone to hell, Michelle thought.

Carly must have been thinking the same because she said, “We were both screwed up.”

“I guess that happens when parents disappear.”

“You should have told us.”

Carly’s statement, five simple words, hit Michelle like a sucker punch. She sat up and swung her feet to the ground, facing her.

“Don’t even start,” she said, her voice low, her good mood evaporating like fog in the sun.

“Why not?” Carly sat up, as well. “We might have been able to stop them.”

“How? We were seventeen years old. What were we going to do? Chain ourselves to the car? They were the ones who cheated. They were the ones who snuck out in the night without telling anyone. It’s not what I did.”

“I know,” Carly said. “I tell myself that. But with my mom gone, it was horrible.”

“You think it was better for me?” Michelle demanded. “I was stuck here with Brenda.”

“Who mostly ignored you.”

“Your dad did the same. He was too drunk to know when you were around.”

Michelle wanted to call the words back. Talking about the drinking was one of those taboo subjects. She’d been friends with Carly and knew the shame that came with having a drunk for a father.

Carly set down her glass and wiped her fingers on her jeans. Then she stood.

“He wasn’t too drunk all the time. He started hitting me after she left. He screamed that it was my fault. That she hadn’t loved me. He said that was why she left. Because of me. And he had never loved me.” Carly stared up at the sky, then back at Michelle. “That’s why I did it. That’s why I went after all those boys. So I could make myself believe somebody cared about me.”

Michelle started to say, “I cared,” only she was distracted by what Carly had said. “You slept with everyone.”

Carly’s mouth twisted into something that was probably supposed to be a smile. “No,” she said quietly. “I teased, I got close, but there was no sex. I never went ‘all the way.’” The fake smile faded. “Allen was my first time. I gave him my virginity to win him from you. Talk about a shitty trade.”

With that, she turned and walked back to the inn.

Michelle watched her go, feeling anger and frustration building inside of her. She wanted to scream that Carly wasn’t telling the truth but knew the other woman had no reason to lie.

Allen had literally fucked them both. He was both their first times and he was a worthless bastard. They’d been so messed up, so confused about what their parents had done, how they’d acted. All their lives they’d depended on each other and yet in the crucial moment, when they’d needed each other the most, they’d gone their separate ways.

She sat there in the growing darkness and fought against feeling helpless. She could handle nearly anything but that. Restlessness drove her to her feet. She picked up the wine bottle, then threw it as hard as she could. It bounced onto the grass, lying there unshattered.

It wasn’t enough. She needed to do more, to express the rage boiling inside of her. Nothing was right. She couldn’t even define the problem, let alone fix it.

She turned frantically, looking for an enemy. Someone to blame, to hurt, to destroy. And then she saw them. The rows and rows of daisies, their happy faces turned toward the night sky.

She hurried toward the planter first and grabbed as many as she could reach, holding on close to the soil. She jerked upward—hard. They pulled out with a satisfying ripping sound and sensation. She went to the next plant and the next, then moved to the garden itself.