Meet Me at the Beach (Seashell Bay) (12 page)

“Hey, what are you two whispering about over there?” Brett Clayton boomed out from the other side of the table in a slightly slurred voice. He gave Laura a little nudge with his elbow. “Lily’s been practically jumping out of her skin waiting for the baseball hero to show up.”

“Shut up, Brett,” Laura said, loud enough for the people at the neighboring tables to glance at her. “I hardly ever get a night away from the Pot, and I’m not going to have you go spoiling it. So watch your motoring mouth or I’ll be cutting you off.” She invested that warning with a meaningful glare. Brett gave Laura a sheepish look and retreated into sullen silence.

“I’m looking forward to seeing Aiden again,” Ryan Butler said from beside Brett. “It’s been a hell of a long time.” Ryan, a Seashell Bay local who’d joined the military right out of high school, had arrived on the same boat as Brie yesterday for his annual visit to his folks.

“Me too,” Brie piped up. “He’s awesome cute, isn’t he, Lil?” Her annoying sister flashed her a mischievous grin.

Lily had told Brie absolutely nothing about Aiden, other than that he’d be racing against her today. Brie,
though, had clearly wormed a lot more information out of one or more of Lily’s girlfriends.

Her beautiful baby sister, decked out as usual in her gorgeous designer clothes, almost always made Lily feel like the proverbial ugly duckling. Still, she figured she’d cleaned up pretty nicely for the social, and she actually felt halfway attractive. Her pale green polka-dot dress with its tight bodice and short, flirty skirt—bought at a discount store in Portland—had won her a few admiring glances from the men in the hall as she took to the floor for dances with several different guys. Without doubt, though, her sister Brianna had once again stolen the show, with her Boston salon haircut and her designer outfit. The cost of the sleek linen dress and Kate Spade sandals would have probably kept Lily in fuel and bait for two weeks.

Lily loved Brie to death, but she often wondered how they could have possibly come from the same gene pool. Finishing the remains of her beer, she stood, smoothing her skirt. “Time to powder my nose,” she joked to Morgan.

“Want me to come?” Her friend had obviously read her troubled look.

She managed a weak smile. “Thanks, but I actually just want a few minutes alone, okay? Maybe I’ll grab a little air.” She really had no need to use the rest room.

Morgan nodded and gave Lily’s hand a quick squeeze.

Avoiding the tables crowded around the room, Lily hugged the wall as she slid toward the double doors that opened into a foyer at the front of the building. The dance floor was rocking, and all the tables were full. If there were two things islanders loved, it was drinking and dancing, and the festival social was a grand occasion for both.
The committee had decked out the hall with the usual blue-and-white streamers and balloons, and it had hung advertising posters from East Bay Lobster and a half-dozen other festival sponsors. The blueberry basket centerpieces on the table were a tradition too, but except for those rather meager decorations, the hall retained its usual no-frills atmosphere.

Just as Lily reached the doorway, Aiden strode into the foyer. They both stopped as if they’d run into glass walls. Aiden’s mouth had been set in a grim, hard line, but then it started to curve into something like a smile. Lily’s tense muscles started to relax when she saw his expression soften.

“Hey, you’re not leaving yet, are you?” he said, coming close. He towered over her, and his commanding height always gave her a bit of a pleasant shock.

And, boy howdy, did he ever look good in close-up.

Aiden wore a light blue cotton shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tanned, powerful forearms. The top two buttons were open to reveal just a glimpse of hard, male chest, lightly dusted with black hair. His chinos showcased a lean waist and long athletic legs. The shirt and pants were clearly expensively tailored, but he also wore beat-up old Sperry Top-Siders, which saved him from looking just a little too perfect and a little too removed from island life.

He was totally, completely, hot.

Lily’s mouth went a little dry as she answered him. “Uh, no. I just needed a little break from all the noise.”

He glanced over her shoulder into the hall. “Or is it just a little too dull in there for a wild woman like you?” he teased.

“Actually, it’s fun,” she said after a brief hesitation. Though she’d been waiting for him all night, a sudden attack of nerves left her tongue-tied. But if she tried to put off telling him what she wanted from him any longer, she would probably go into full meltdown. “I guess the first thing you’ll want is to find out about our bet.”

He shook his head. “No, the first thing I want is a drink. It’s been a day, as they say around here.”

Ouch.
Not just his words but his expression had her worried. Maybe she’d been right to fear that a battle had erupted with his drunken jerk of a father. The fact that she would have caused it made her feel slightly sick to her stomach.

He pressed his hand against her lower back to shift her around. “We can talk about the bet later. Right now I just want to have a beer and hang out with you.”

Short of digging in her heels and dragging him into a discussion he didn’t want and, truth be told, neither did she, there seemed to be no choice but to go with the flow. Lily had never liked ducking a problem, but this was so clearly not the time to hit Aiden with something he would probably hate as much as a root canal.

No, make that half a dozen root canals.

“Sure,” she said, sounding a little breathless. Not that she blamed herself for her squeaky tone, not with his big, warm hand resting just above the swell of her bum. “We’ll squeeze in another chair at my table. People are really looking forward to seeing you.”

Aiden’s sceptical expression suggested he didn’t think that was truly the case.

As they moved through the noisy hall, Lily leaned into him to make herself heard above the band. “Holly and
Laura and Brie are there, and so are Brett Clayton and Ryan Butler. Remember Ryan?”

Aiden scanned the room looking for the table in question. “Hell, yeah. When did he get here? To the island, I mean.”

“Last night, on the same boat as my sister, unfortunately.” Lily let out an exasperated laugh when Aiden lifted his eyebrows in a silent question. “Brie talks about him constantly. She thinks he’s such a hunk, and her, uh… enthusiasm is getting a little tiring.”

“Ryan’s a solid guy. He broke my home run record at Peninsula.”

Aiden’s hand moved to Lily’s bare upper arm and wrapped around it in a grip that felt gentle but possessive. She had to resist the urge to melt into his big body.

“Is he still in the army?” Aiden added. “Last I heard he was finishing up another tour in Afghanistan.”

That would have been over two years ago, when Aiden came home for his mother’s funeral. “I never ask him what he’s doing anymore, because he ducks those sorts of questions. Our Mr. Mystery Man, Morgan calls him.”

When they reached the table, Lily hung her purse over the back of her chair as Aiden shook hands with the men and hugged the four other women. When he got to Ryan, they gripped each other in a bear hug. Getting the drift, Brett and Laura shifted over to make space for Aiden to sit between Ryan and Lily. For the next few minutes, the two men leaned close, hunching over in animated conversation while Morgan and Holly fetched a round of drinks for the table.

Lily had to admit they were quite the sight—two big, ridiculously gorgeous guys, both full of a self-confident
masculinity that would have most women mooning after them like idiots.

Aiden and Ryan spent several minutes deep in a conversation that seemed all about sports. Lily was just starting to get irritated at being ignored—irrationally, she told herself—when Aiden suddenly turned to her. “Dance with me, Lily,” he said in a deep, smoky voice as his gaze raked over her.

Blunt. Decisive. Hot.

Because it was getting later in the evening, the band had started to do a few down-tempo numbers from their playlist. Lily recognized the opening lines of the song—Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing”—and knew exactly why Aiden had suddenly asked her to dance. Though the tune was a slow-dance staple, what were the odds that the band would play the one song she’d come to associate with him? Although they’d never officially dated, they’d danced a lot at some of the Portland high school dances the spring he graduated and, for some reason, especially to this particular tune. To her, it had always been their song, and he’d obviously remembered too.

When Aiden got up, holding out his hand, she felt everything inside her go soft and shivery. She snapped a quick glance at Morgan, who nodded her support with a wry smile.

Sucking in a deep breath for courage, Lily stood on rubbery legs and let Aiden guide her into the middle of the suddenly jammed dance floor. Everybody liked the slow dances, young and old. Even Miss Annie and Roy hustled onto the floor—evidently Granny hadn’t murdered Roy yet—as did Lily’s mom and dad.

When Aiden’s arms came around her, she let out a
sigh, only then realizing she’d been holding her breath. Sliding into his embrace was so easy, so natural, that it happened without any conscious thought or movement on her part. She remembered the feel of him as if it was yesterday, and she couldn’t help glancing up at him with a rueful smile.

This time, though, there was a difference. He was no longer a teenager but a man, with a hard, muscled body and a maturity about him that made him even more appealing. Heat flared in his dark gaze, and his right arm went firmly around her back, pulling her against him with a controlled, irresistible power. Lily rested her cheek on his broad shoulder and closed her eyes, breathing in his clean, familiar scent and letting the years melt away as she remembered how wonderful it had felt to be in his arms.

The scary part, of course, was how good it
still
felt. It was even better, actually, because now she knew what she’d been missing. Their bodies meshed perfectly together, her curves fitting just right against his tough, masculine frame. Everything inside her went deliciously weak, and she leaned into him, instinctively seeking support.

“You remember, don’t you?” he whispered, his warm breath caressing her ear. He dipped a bit, rubbing his bristled cheek against hers.

She would have laughed at the idea of ever forgetting if her throat hadn’t gone tight with emotion. She remembered everything about their time together. No matter how brief those episodes had been, it had changed her forever. Aiden had rocked her world.

“Of course I do,” she murmured back. “I’ll never forget it.”

He pulled her even closer as they circled the floor. Her breasts rubbed against his hard chest, making her entire body tingle.

“I feel the same way,” Aiden said in a husky tone that rumbled right through her. “Even after all this time.”

His words robbed her of what little breath she’d managed to hold on to. What did he mean? Was this simply a walk down memory lane or something more meaningful? She leaned back against his arm, searching his face—now gone all serious and intent—for the answer.

“Oh, Jesus, will you look at that.” Her father’s gruff voice, right next to Lily, had her practically jumping out of her shoes. She jerked her gaze over to see her parents dancing right next to them.

“Oh, no,” Lily’s mother groaned, craning around. “Tommy, the old so-and-so’s got that look in his eye.”

Suddenly, Aiden stiffened. He let out a low curse, loosening his grip on Lily. She whirled around to face the problem, already guessing who had “that look” in his eye.

Sean freaking Flynn, his white shirt half-untucked and stained with what looked like mustard, standing at the edge of the dance floor and stabbing an accusing finger in their direction. Instantly, Aiden stepped in front of Lily and planted his big frame as a protective block against his father. She rested a comforting hand against his back and leaned around him to get a better view.

When Aiden took a step forward, so did her father.

Panic spiking, Lily grabbed at her dad’s hand, but he shook her off. “Stay out of it, Dad,” she warned.

“No, you stay out of it, girl,” her father barked. “This isn’t a woman’s fight.”

Her mother slid over and wrapped her arm around
Lily’s shoulder. “Your father can handle himself, sweetheart. You know this isn’t the first time he and Sean have gone at it.”

Lily gritted her teeth. “I am so sick of this bullshit.”

But part of her acknowledged that maybe her mother was right. Maybe her father and Sean Flynn needed to have it out, once and for all. But this time Aiden was caught squarely in the middle. And “once and for all” never seemed to happen, not when it came to their hardheaded fathers.

Sean staggered closer, his meaty fists clenched at his sides. His bloodshot gaze flicked back and forth between Aiden and her dad, his red, contorted features gleaming with sweat. The man looked like an absolute wreck.

“I had to see it with my own eyes,” he slurred at Aiden. “My son with… with…
her
.” He pointed around Aiden at Lily. “My son chasing a damn little Doyle skirt.”

When Lily’s dad plunged forward, Aiden restrained him with a blocking arm. “Don’t, Mr. Doyle. It’s me he’s after, not you or Lily.”

He stepped between the two older men who were both snorting like mad bulls. When his father took another menacing step forward, Aiden shot out a warning hand. “You need to go home now, Dad. Right now.” His tone was glacial.

“He can’t come in here like that and insult my daughter!” Lily’s dad fumed. “Damn no-good drunk. He’s been getting away with this crap for too damn long.”

Aiden cut her dad a lethal warning glance over his shoulder. “That’s probably true, but I hear that particular door swings both ways, sir.”

Though his voice remained calm, Lily could tell Aiden
was probably itching to slug one or both of the potential combatants. She knew he never would—not unless absolutely necessary. Some abused kids grew up to be abusers themselves. Not Aiden. He had such a good, generous heart, and he understood the effects of violence all too well. He’d always made it clear how much he hated it.