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“What are you all doing over here at this time of night?” My teeth clench and my jaw twitches.
“Were you busy?” Josh asks.
“Wait – you are here alone, aren’t you?” Adam leans from side to side, peering over my shoulders for a view into the house.
“What business is that of yours? I’m asking one last time – what are you doing here?”
Jake is finally the one who speaks up, seeming impatient with his brothers. “We’re here to move your mom’s things to our dad’s house.” When I look at him blankly, he continues. “So it will all be there for her when they come back from the honeymoon.”
I raise an eyebrow and put a hand on my hip. When I notice several pairs of eyes flicker to my chest, I remember I’m not wearing a bra. “And you chose to do that now? At night?”
“We thought a city girl like you would be used to staying up all hours,” Adam says, his annoying smirk back at full force.
“We work all day,” Jake says. “And we know you do, too.”
It seems too much of a coincidence that they chose tonight, the night of my date, to show up, but accusing them of stalking me seems like a stretch when I think about saying it out loud. I huff out a loud sigh as I push the door open wide. “Come in.”
As they all step into the foyer, I’m struck again by how the four of them look in this house. They seem to grow bigger and the space around us suddenly feels very small.
The scent of someone’s cologne reaches my nose and I step back, feeling that it’s important to put some distance between myself and them.
“Can you show us to your mom’s room?” Jake asks.
I mount the stairs, arms folded across my chest in irritation, painfully aware of the four men following me. Being alone with them in close quarters, there’s a different energy in the air, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
“Right here.” I lead them into mom’s room. She’d put most of her clothes in boxes before the wedding, but I hadn’t thought much about it. I assumed she’d get her stuff when she returned. I guess it is a nice gesture for the guys to move it while she’s away so everything will be ready for her at Mike’s house.
Adam and Matt each grab a box but Josh stands watching me. “How was your dinner tonight?” His tone sounds pleasant and innocent, but there’s clearly something else beneath the surface.
“Fine.” I frown at him. “What a coincidence seeing you at the restaurant.”
“Wasn’t it?” His grin is so cocky that it instantly confirms that there were no coincidences, not at the restaurant, and not with the timing of their visit tonight.
Adam and Matt move around us and head back downstairs with their loads. Jake bends to pick up a box but seems in no hurry to go anywhere, so I’m left alone in the room with the twins, my former best friends.
“I think you’re taking your new role as stepbrothers too seriously. You don’t need to watch over me or check up on me.”
“Remember when you used to wish you were our sister?” Jake asks. He’s got a big box balanced against his hip like it weighs nothing. “When summer kids would think you were our sister and sometimes you pretended you were?”
I snort with disgust. “That was a long time ago.”
“I guess it was,” Josh says, staring straight into my eyes. “What happened?”
I’m not sure exactly what he’s asking. Why we’re not close anymore? Why I hate them now? Before I realize what’s happening, emotion bubbles up and I lash out because it seems a better option than crying.
“What happened? You mean how we were best friends growing up? How we did everything together, until sixth grade when you both got girlfriends and completely stopped talking to me?”
Josh, who is almost always cheerful and pleasant, looks like I’ve slapped him. Jake has the decency to look guilty.
“We were dumb,” Josh finally mumbles after a long, deafening silence.
“What did you say?”
“We were…” Josh says.
“Idiots.” His brother finishes his sentence for him, just like they used to do when they were younger.
“You got girlfriends, and you ignored me. Why wasn’t I good enough to be your girlfriend?” I’m shocked at myself, even as the words are leaving my mouth. This isn’t something I ever meant to confront them about. I never intended to let them know how much they hurt me.
Ever since I first met them, I’ve never had any trouble telling the twins apart. Though identical twins by definition, they each look unique and different to me. But right now they’re both wearing matching expressions of complete surprise.
“It’s not because you weren’t good enough. That’s crazy,” Josh says.
“It’s because you were like our sister,” Jake says, sounding thoughtful and reflective. Next to him, Josh nods.
I sniff, proud that I have managed not to cry during this unplanned and unexpected confrontation, but I’m still angry. And frustrated. “Well, now I actually am your sister. It’s all come full circle.”
Josh puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Maddy, we’re sorry. We were kids. We were dumb. We had… hormones.”
Shaking him off, I move to pick up one of the boxes, but Jake puts an arm out to stop me. “Maddy, leave it. Look at me. We’re sorry. Can we start over?”
“What do you mean?”
“Can we be… friends… again?” Maybe it’s the look on their faces, or being so close to them in this room, or the emotional release of the outburst I just had, but suddenly it feels ridiculous to be so angry at them for something that happened so long ago.
They’re right. They were kids. We were kids. Maybe I can start over and be friends with them again until they give me a reason not to. We’re family now, after all.
There are heavy footsteps on the stairs and suddenly Adam’s back. “What’s the matter? Are these too heavy for you?” He hoists one of the two remaining boxes and pushes it into Josh’s arms before gesturing to the doorway. “Go on, get it loaded up.”
Josh and Jake flash searching glances my way, looking upset that we were interrupted, but they follow their older brother’s orders, a pattern of behavior that also reminds me of our childhood times together.
“Have you calmed down, Mad dog?” Adam asks after the twins have exited the room.
“I have. But I have a feeling you’re going to get me all fired up again.”
“Oh, is that the effect I have on you? I get you hot?” His eyes roam down my body, and parts of me do indeed start to heat up. Before I can respond, he adds, “How was your date with Clay?”
I’m surprised he knows Clay’s name, but then I remind myself that everybody knows almost everybody else on the island. “It was fine.”
“I’ll bet you were wishing you were with me tonight instead.” My cheeks burn at the truth in his statement. I thought Adam asked me to dinner out of a sense of obligation, but the way he’s looking at me now gives me an entirely different idea about his motivations.
He steps closer and runs a finger along the side of my jaw. There’s a faint scent of automotive oil and his skin is rough, but his voice is smooth. “Did he give you a goodnight kiss, Mad dog?”
“Are you jealous?” I manage to ask, turning my head to avoid his touch.
In reply, he grasps my chin, angles my face toward his, and bends over me, bringing his lips to hover over mine. He doesn’t hold me tightly; I could easily step away from him and he knows it.
Time stops and my breath catches somewhere in my chest as he kisses me – not like an overprotective stepbrother, but like a man filled with lust. It’s deep and delicious and literally makes my legs buckle.
I will confess that I long ago fantasized about kissing Adam Harding, and the reality is much, much better than my childhood brain could imagine. His lips are soft but his actions are bold and confident, and the taste of him becomes my new favorite flavor.
There’s heat between my legs, and when he pulls me closer to him, the sen
sation of my hard nipples pressing against the solid rock that is his body brings a rush of wetness to my panties. I still don’t think I’m breathing.
Much too soon, he pulls away, then goes in one more time for a brief final kiss. I want to wrap my arms around him and force him to continue, but I won’t let myself do that.
He knows, though. He looks into my eyes and he sees that I want more. Fuck.
The cocky grin returns to his reddened lips. “G’night, Mad dog. Sleep tight.” He steps back, grabs the final box, and leaves the room.
I don’t move until I hear the front door close, the truck engines start and then eventually fade away. It’s several minutes longer after that until I feel steady enough to make my way back downstairs.
9
Who do you want?
On Sunday, I’m beyond grateful when Lacy invites me to go to lunch. My mind has been spinning in circles ever since the brothers’ nighttime visit, and being alone in the house only gives me more time to play, replay, and analyze everything that happened. At times, I can nearly convince myself that I imagined the encounter with Adam, but my imagination has never been that creative.
And it’s not just the kiss I’m thinking about, but also Josh and Jake’s apology. I’ve been carrying that hurt for a long time, and now the outer edges of it are beginning to soften. I won’t forget, but I can forgive, and maybe the three of us can be buddies again. As adults, I’m not sure what that would mean exactly, but I think it would be nice to be friends with them again.
But would a friendship with the twins complicate a relationship with Adam?
Relationship?
I bang my palm against the side of my skull a few times, trying to knock some sense into myself. Why in the world would I think Adam wants a relationship with me? He probably wants sex. Or Adam being Adam, maybe he’s just messing with me, and wants to get a reaction out of me.
There’s a throb between my legs at the mere thought of Adam kissing me – he definitely gets a reaction out of me.
I meet Lacy at The Seafood Shack, a dilapidated little place right on the beach, worn by years of exposure to the sun and surf. It’s not much to look at, but the food is always good.
After placing our orders at the counter, I manage to get a table on the back patio, facing the ocean. Sitting on the worn wooden bench, I take in the salty air with a long, deep breath.
Lacy plops a stack of napkins and plastic silverware in the middle of the table as she settles in across from me. “How was your week?”
“It was good. The perfect amount of busy.”
“Is it boring, working at your mom’s bakery? Not like the things you were probably doing in the city.”
I laugh out loud. “Lacy, I was working at a doughnut shop.”
“Yeah, but you were probably making fancy big city doughnuts.”
I shake my head, still laughing. “How was your week?”
“So boring. The off-season is slow.”
Lacy’s family runs a touristy beach shop near the main island bridge. It’s stocked with umbrellas, chairs, postcards, saltwater taffy - all of the usual stuff that people on vacation want. “I thought the addition of the clothing expansion kept you busy all year now?”
“Oh, I’m not talking about the shop, although that’s boring, too. I meant the men. The selection dried up when the tourists left.”
“You get with tourist guys?” As I ask the question, a guy about our age delivers two baskets with our fried lunches. He smiles a bit too knowingly, clearly having overheard my question. We murmur our thanks and he returns to the kitchen.
“Yeah, I get with tourist guys. Buddies on fishing trips, college guys on summer break. They’re all good when they’re not drinking too much.”
Inwardly I shudder, imagining that the vacationing men are probably drunk more often than not, and I remember Clay telling me about the trashed beach homes he’s seen. “What about the locals? The waiter was cute.” I glance around, trying to find the man again.
“That’s Jay. He’s been dating Kelsey Hutchins forever. They’ll probably get engaged soon.” Lacy squirts ketchup into the side of her basket and passes the bottle to me. “All the good ones are taken.” In the middle of dipping a fry into the red sauce, she pauses and looks at me. “All of them except your four new stepbrothers, that is.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I’m surprised, I guess. They’re so good looking, it really doesn’t make sense that they don’t have girlfriends. I feel uncomfortable asking Lacy about them, though, afraid that my face will give something away and she’ll somehow turn the questions around on me.
Part of me would love to tell her about Adam’s kiss and get her opinion on his motives, but I don’t want the whole island knowing about it. Even if she promised not to tell anyone – and I do trust her – I don’t feel ready to talk about it. I should just try to forget it ever happened.
I hear highlights of a few of Lacy’s summer flings, ask about her family, and generally get caught up on island gossip as we eat our lunch. When we’re finished, she suggests a walk on the beach, something I’m always up for.
“Did you bring your suit?”
I grin. “There’s one in my car. Always prepared.”
“That’s my girl!”
Even though the peak season is over, the weather today is like summer, but with less humidity. I keep my denim shorts on but change into a bikini top, pull my hair up into a ponytail through the back of a ball cap, and spray on sunscreen. I toss my sandals onto the floor of my car, and we take the sandy planked path down to the beach.
“Which way?” I ask when we reach the surf.
Lacy turns to the right and we stroll along the edge of the hard-packed wet sand, with the sun on our faces and a refreshing breeze at our backs. It’s bliss.
We watch shorebirds run in and out with the tide, dipping their long bills in the sand. Pelicans soar close to the water in clusters of three or even a dozen birds. Ghost crabs scurry in all directions to stay out of our path. The sand is warm under my feet and my soul feels like it’s being recharged.
I’m finding it hard to remember why I ever wanted to move to the city.
Being a weekend, and with such warm weather, there are quite a few people out, but nothing like the summer crowds. The beach is lined with homes, many of which are rentals in the summer but are now winter homes for their owners. We pass small clusters of people here and there, some napping or engrossed in books, others fishing with their long poles stuck in tubes in the sand.
I lose track of time, thoroughly enjoying every bit of my surroundings and Lacy’s company. After we’ve gone quite a way up the coastline, we approach a small group of men tossing a football around.
As we get closer, I realize that I recognize their voices. I study their shirtless bodies, which are broad, well-muscled and unfamiliar, but I do know their faces. Adam, Matt, Josh, and Jake – tanned and sweaty and wearing only shorts as they run in the sand, hurling the ball back and forth.
My instinct is to turn back before being spotted, but Lacy is already waving at them. “Hi there! Hello!”
Matt and Josh are closest to us and jog over immediately.
“Hey Lacy, hey Maddy,” Matt says, nodding to us each in turn.
“Well, hello, ladies,” Josh says, tucking the football under his arm and brushing his hair back from his forehead with his free hand. His thousand-watt smile is there as usual, and though he unleashes it on Lacy, his eyes linger on me.
Adam and Jake reach us and more greetings are exchanged, though I’m quiet, taken so completely off guard at running into them on the beach.
“What brings you by here?” Adam asks with a grin that resembles Josh’s but includes a hint of a smirk.
“We were just out walking,” Lacy says. “You boys having fun?”
“We could be having more fun,” Adam says.
“We’ve got to get back.” I half turn and gesture in the direction we came, but even as I’m doing i
t, I know it’s futile.
“I could go for some fun, Maddy. How about you?”
“We’ve got a long walk back.” I take a step away from the group.
“Where’d you start out from?” Jake asks.
Lacy uses her hand to fan herself as she responds. “The Seafood Shack.”
“That is a long walk. Why don’t you come in for something to drink before you head back?” Josh tips his head in the direction of the house behind them, which I notice for the first time.
As we’ve been walking toward the island’s south beach, the houses we’ve passed have gradually gotten larger, newer looking, and generally more impressive. This one is substantial, with decks running the length of both of its two levels, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a different shade of fresh bluish-gray paint on each level of the house giving it a modern look.
“Come in?” My hesitant words sound like someone just learning to speak English.
“Yeah. This is our house.”
Before Lacy falls in step behind the men, she leans in to nudge me and whisper in my ear. “There’s two of them for each of us. Who do you want?”
I glare back at her, not happy with the current situation, but part of my brain takes her question and runs with it. Which two do I want? I have no idea.
10
We want to be more
I try to trail behind the group as we trudge through the soft, deep sand toward the steps leading up to the house, but Matt and Jake keep pace behind me, as if they sense that I might try to make a run for it.
On the wooden walkway leading to the house, Josh holds the hose for me so I can rinse the sand off of my feet. “What a nice surprise, you coming over,” he says.
“I had no idea you lived here.” I look up at the big house, noticing the long row of white and gray Adirondack chairs lining the lower deck. “Is this your dad’s house?”
“Nope. All ours.”
“All of yours?” I step back from the spray of water and Jake hands me a beach towel to dry my feet.