Fighting the Undertow Read online

  Losing the thread of her fantasy, she placed a few more items in the display case, focusing on the delicate glass animals in an attempt to suppress the wave of heat creeping up her chest. She’d accidentally barged into the bathroom just as Jeremy climbed out of the shower one night, and the image of his naked body, all hard lines and lean muscle, still haunted her.

  Slipping back into her erotic daydream, she glanced warily at Jeremy’s erect cock. Hell, talk about a tight fit. But as he slid his fingers back inside her, stroking them forward against her pelvic bone with enough pressure to drive her half crazy, she forgot her apprehension.

  Before she could protest, Abby slid Val’s shirt over her head and deftly removed her bra. Naked and vulnerable, with Jeremy crouched between her legs and Abby pressed against her back, Val felt torn between the urge to escape and the desire to feel their hands glide over every inch of her body.

  Perhaps sensing her ambivalence, Abby massaged the tense spot at the back of her neck and whispered that everything would be all right. By the time Abby reached forward and trailed her fingers across Val’s nipples in a feather-soft caress, nothing could have felt more natural.

  Val protested when Jeremy slid his fingers free, feeling empty and lost. But when he lowered her to her back, the leather sofa caressing her skin, she whimpered in anticipation of what would happen next. Abby knelt beside the sofa and tangled her fingers in her hair.

  With a startled cry, she dug her nails into her palms as Jeremy eased inside her. She tossed her head to the side and stared into Abby’s amber brown eyes, a silent plea forming on her lips, and Abby bent down to kiss her. As her body struggled to adjust to the increasing depth of Jeremy’s thrusts, she responded to Abby’s kiss, meeting tongue with tongue.

  “…and of course, while I was in the area, I thought I’d stop by and see how Val’s doing.”

  Holy crap! Bolting upright, she sent a china pitcher crashing to the floor. As she bent to pick up the pieces, Cassidy rushed over with a broom and dustpan. Trying to steady herself, Val straightened her skirt and turned to face Dean.

  “I suppose your golf buddy called you as soon as I left the interview.”

  No point in exchanging pleasantries. She knew her face shone crimson with the embarrassment of having her fantasy interrupted. Dean had the upper hand here. Best to see what he wanted, then send him on his way.

  “Val, you look…delightful.” His gaze traveled along the length of her legs, then settled on her cherry red face. “Been getting a bit of sun?”

  Damn him, he probably thought he’d managed to unsettle her with his mere presence. Which, when she thought about it, was better than the truth of the situation. Having him walk in during that particular fantasy was about as appealing as having an orgasm in church.

  “What do you want?” Aware of the curious glances of several customers, she gestured for Dean to follow her to the back room.

  When she got as far as the registers, she realized he still stood in the center of the store. A master of manipulation, the opportunity to humiliate her publicly wouldn’t be lost on him. Hands on her hips, she leaned back against the counter and waited for him to answer.

  “Why Val, how cynical. I don’t want anything.”

  Hell, Dean wouldn’t cross the street unless there was something in it for him, let alone drive from Boston to Gulls’ Harbor.

  “I heard you were applying for positions around Boston, and I stopped by to let you know your old job’s open if you’d like to come back.” He offered a paternal smile.

  “No, thanks. As you can see, I have a job.”

  With wrenching clarity, it dawned on her that she’d always been an employee first, in Dean’s eyes. Their relationship had been a convenient perk for him. What had wounded his ego wasn’t that she’d called off their engagement, but that she’d had the nerve to look elsewhere for employment.

  Fighting for composure, she blinked as an enormous bundle of irises entered the shop. The impression that the flowers were one with the khaki shorts and tightly muscled legs, a sort of hybrid floral-human creature, was so strong that she let out a strangled laugh.

  “They’re gorgeous, and I have the perfect vase.” Brenda took the flowers and disappeared into the back room to put them in water.

  Val swallowed hard and wished she could disappear like Kevin. “Ian.” Unable to come up with anything more eloquent than a simple acknowledgment of his presence, she glanced from him to Dean.

  Directing his most dismissive “Who’s this guy?” look at Ian, Dean seemed to decide he wasn’t a threat and turned back to Val.

  “A job. Indeed. I guess you could call this…” He swept his arm in a half circle to encompass the shop. “A job. Hardly merits the attention of someone with your training, however.”

  As three elderly women browsing through calendars murmured their disapproval, Val felt a bit better. Although Dean had been the one to seek an audience, the public sided with her.

  “Is this man bothering you?” Ian moved closer to Val, glanced at Dean, and slid an arm around her waist.

  Adding to the drama, Brenda chose that moment to reappear with a splendid crystal vase overflowing with irises. With a flourish, she settled the flowers between the registers.

  “Who is this?” Evidently ruffled past the pretense of manners, Dean scowled at Ian and then looked to Val for an explanation.

  Ian crossed the room and held out his hand. “Sorry, I should have introduced myself. Ian Winters.” His expression all innocence, he grinned at Dean. “Too bad you lack an appreciation for retail work. I spent summers working in one of my father’s sporting goods stores from the time I could add a row of numbers.”

  Val thought she heard a soft cackle of delight escape from one of the customers. Everyone in the store knew who the Winters were, Dean included.

  His face a strange mix of ruddy blotches and pallor, Dean drifted toward the exit. “My offer stands, Val.” He nodded toward Ian. “A pleasure to meet you. I’ve always admired the charity work your folks have done with the Boston hospitals. Many of my patients have benefited when they’ve needed inpatient treatment.”

  When Ian nodded coolly, Dean abandoned his attempt to smooth things over and retreated out the door. One down, one to go. Desperate to get Ian out of the shop before she experienced a complete internal meltdown, Val gestured toward the flowers.

  “They’re beautiful, thank you.”

  She couldn’t think with him so close. His sea green eyes unsettled her, and she wanted to brush the thatch of blond hair away from his eyes. He needed a haircut, and in the humidity, his hair curled into gentle waves where it brushed his neck.

  “Val, I’ve given you as much time as I can stand. There are things I never got a chance to explain. Please, will you meet me on the beach tomorrow evening so we can talk?”

  She glanced at her audience. In addition to the geriatric crowd, she had the attention of a few middle-aged tourists, and of course, Casey, Cassidy, and Brenda.

  Val’s throat threatened to close up on her, and she didn’t know if she’d get the words out. “Maybe. Okay?”

  Ian must have sensed her distress. Either that, or he noticed the shimmer of light by Val’s elbow and decided to leave before Kevin materialized in front of the customers. Whatever his motivation, he touched her cheek and turned to leave.

  Her heart pounding, Val counted backward from one hundred as he headed out the door. Warily eyeing the glimmer of light beside her, she ignored Brenda’s query as to whether she was all right, headed for the sanctuary of the back room, and raced up the stairs to the apartment.

  As she cleared the last few stairs and struggled with her key in the lock, Kevin touched her shoulder, which was all it took to push her over the edge. After everything she’d dealt with today, didn’t it figure the kindness of a ghost would be what finally brought on the tears?

  “I don’t suppose spirits carry hankies?” Sobbing, she headed for the bathroom in search of a box of Kleenex.
“No? I didn’t think so.”

  Spent, she slumped down and rested her back against the tub. Kevin perched on the edge of the sink. Ghosts must not weigh much, seeing as the whole thing didn’t go crashing down.

  “You’re still here. Does that mean you think Ian and I will be able to sort things out, or have you just gotten attached to me?” She didn’t expect an answer, but it would be helpful to know why Kevin kept hanging around.

  “I’m crazy about him, Kev.” She blew her nose and added another crumpled Kleenex to the growing pile beside her. “Hell, I might even love him. But it’s hard. There’s so much…”

  So much shit. There was no other word for it. Kevin watched her expectantly.

  “Okay, I’ll meet him on the beach tomorrow. Is that what you want?”

  With a smile, the ghost shimmered and disappeared.

  “No, I couldn’t have a nice, simple life. I have to go and get mixed up with a ghost, a guy who has more money than most small countries, and his sex-crazed friends!”

  Her inner psychologist informed her that ranting to an empty room wouldn’t help, so she gave up and buried her face in her hands. She had over twenty-four hours to wait before she could put the meeting with Ian behind her. And she couldn’t deny the sinister strand of emotion twisting around her neck in a silken noose.

  Hope.

  Chapter Ten

  Her anxiety increasing as the wind picked up, Val climbed into an empty lifeguard chair and scanned the waves. She couldn’t spot Ian in the water, and the beach was empty as far as she could see in each direction. Damn, she shouldn’t have stayed to help Brenda wait on the bus full of senior citizens who’d invaded Windswept Gifts just before she was supposed to meet him.

  She’d called the cottage before coming out here, but Jeremy told her Ian had left for the beach over an hour ago and wasn’t back yet. She eyed the approaching wall of dark clouds. Only about an hour of daylight left, and the storm was moving in fast.

  Since Ian hadn’t answered his cell, she suspected he’d gotten fed up with waiting for her and decided to swim on his own. With the lifeguards gone for the day, he wouldn’t have heard about the storm warnings.

  Hope soared with the chirp of her cell phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Val. Have you found him yet?”

  She let out a sigh of disappointment at the sound of Abby’s voice. “No. You and Jeremy still haven’t been able to reach him on his cell?”

  “No, but we’ll keep trying. We’re heading down to the beach. If he’s in the water, he probably hasn’t noticed the clouds moving in.”

  “And he’ll be distracted if he assumed I stood him up.” Distracted and angry, and perhaps not exercising his usual good judgment. “Leave a note for him to call one of us if he gets back to the cottage.”

  As Abby said good-bye and hung up, Val felt lost on the wide expanse of sand. Ian could have cut through the dunes to circle back toward the house on the road. But as the wind picked up, she shuddered with a growing sense of dread that he was still in the water.

  Afraid she’d miss something if she moved any faster, she crossed the sand in a fast walk. Would Ian notice the storm moving in, or would he assume the eerie twilight meant it was getting late? She climbed another lifeguard chair to scan the waves. Nothing.

  When she reached the rocky end of the beach, she turned and headed back. The rocks that lay submerged under the waves were as perilous to swimmers as they were to boats, and she knew he wouldn’t venture that far. At the first ripple of sheet lightning, her stomach clenched.

  If he hadn’t figured it out before now, at this point Ian had to know about the storm. She hoped he was close enough to shore to get his butt on dry land before all hell broke loose. Her phone rang, barely audible over the wind, and once again her hopes soared.

  “Ian?”

  “Sorry, it’s just me.” Jeremy sounded as edgy as she was. “We didn’t find anything down this end, so we’re doubling back toward you. I just tried his cell and the cottage again. No answer.”

  “I’m heading back from Rocky Point. Maybe he’s walking back along the road and doesn’t have his cell with him.” She doubted it, and from Jeremy’s silence, she knew he did too.

  Tucking her phone into her pocket, she stared out over the water until her eyes refused to focus. Nothing. Well, nothing except the serpent’s tongues of lightning on the horizon. Val quickened her pace, wary of being stranded too far from the cottage with the weather turning ugly.

  When a slash of lightning accompanied an almost simultaneous clap of thunder, Val abandoned her attempts to scan the waves and raced full-out along the beach. The rain started as a cluster of fat drops and quickly became a driving sheet of water. As angry streaks of lightning crackled across the sky, her pulse raced, and her instincts screamed to get the hell off the beach.

  “Val?”

  For a moment she thought maybe she’d just heard the wind, but then she spotted Abby and Jeremy running in her direction and rushed to meet them.

  “Any luck?”

  “Still no sign of him.” Abby sounded half-panicked.

  “We’ve got to get off the beach.” The fear in Jeremy’s voice raised her own terror another notch.

  As she blinked at a fork of lightning so brilliant it took a moment to clear the afterimage from her vision, she realized that although she was scared half out of her wits, Kevin hadn’t appeared. Which meant he was with Ian.

  Reassured by that thought, she was about to suggest they should take shelter under the snack stand’s wooden awning when every hair on her body seemed to stand on end.

  “Crouch down! Get as low as you can!” The wind almost drowned out Abby’s warning.

  As Val huddled with her arms tucked around her knees, trembling like a half-drowned puppy, the world exploded around her in a fury of heat and light. When she summoned the courage to open her eyes, the nearest lifeguard chair had been reduced to a smoking pile of splinters.

  Abby and Jeremy crouched nearby, and as lightning continued to lash and twist over the sand, she considered whether it made more sense to stay low, make a run for the dubious shelter of the snack stand, or dash full-out for the cottage. The paralyzing fear that Ian might not have made it out of the water clouded her mind, making it impossible to choose a course of action.

  “Val, look!” Jeremy half stood and pointed across the sand.

  “Iaaaaaannnnnn?” She hollered for all she was worth, hoping the man sprinting toward them through the lashing rain was indeed Ian and not some other idiot who’d been caught in the storm.

  “Jesus! Val?” Leaning into the wind, he closed the distance between them. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

  As Abby and Jeremy scrambled to their feet, Val decided to assume that was a rhetorical question. Shaking with a mix of fear and relief, she took a step toward Ian, hesitated for a split second, then accepted his offered hand. His palm felt icy against hers, and he wasn’t wearing anything but his swim trunks.

  “Let’s make a run for the house. The storm doesn’t seem to be letting up” ‑‑ Jeremy shouted as he gestured toward the smoldering pile of wood ‑‑ “and I’m not inclined to stay on the beach and end up like that lifeguard chair.”

  Without waiting for them to answer, he turned in the direction of the cottage and started running, and the rest of them followed. Ian hung back to encourage Abby, the weakest runner of the four. Val’s breath tore at her throat as she raced across the wet sand, and the roar of the waves, punctuated by deafening claps of thunder, blocked out all other sound. She stumbled over a piece of driftwood and would have fallen, but Jeremy caught her arm.

  Once they headed down the path between the dunes, they were shielded from the worst of the wind, but she cringed every time the sky around them turned blue-white with electricity. By the time they could see the beach house, the thunder grew fainter, and the lightning less frequent.

  Since the threat of imminent demise seemed to have pa
ssed, she stopped to massage a cramp in her calf. Same damn leg that gave her trouble the day she’d met Ian.

  “You okay?” Jeremy doubled back to check on her.

  Panting to catch her breath, Val nodded. “Cramp. Just need to rest it a minute.”

  When Ian and Abby caught up with them, Val waved them on toward the house.

  “It’s all right. I’ll wait for her. If you don’t get into a hot shower soon, you’re going to catch pneumonia.” Jeremy motioned for Ian and Abby to keep going.

  Val was inclined to agree. Ian’s swim trunks didn’t offer much protection against the wind, and there was no telling how long he’d been in the water before he climbed out, only to be pelted by cold rain. She let out a sigh of relief when he followed Abby up the path.

  “Just give me a minute, and I’ll be okay.” Her calf muscle wasn’t inclined to agree. It felt like someone had twisted a hot wire under her flesh. At least with the worst of the storm past, they were in more danger of being bruised by the pelting rain than being skewered by lightning.

  When she caught her breath, she realized Jeremy had wandered off the path, into the dense beach grass. Curious, she gritted her teeth and limped over to see what had caught his attention.

  “Jeremy?”

  “Shh.”

  As she watched, squinting in the dusky light, he crept toward what looked like a bundle of rags hunkered down amid the sharp grass. When the creature squawked in alarm, she realized it was a gull.

  “Easy, I’m only trying to help you.” Though the bird staggered away, it didn’t seem able to fly. “Gotcha. Val, can I have your shirt?”

  “What?” Of all the strange events this evening, this one was the weirdest.

  “I’d use my own, but I can’t put the gull down to take it off. I need to wrap her up so she won’t fight me.”

  Tired beyond arguing, Val stripped off her shirt. The gull struggled as he wrapped the shirt over its wings and draped a fold over its head, but quieted as he tucked it back under his arm.