Page 24 of Take Me Tender

“‘Belongs’? You’re looking for long-term, then.”

“No!” It wasn’t about that. She knew she wasn’t any good at keeping anyone around. Not family, not friends, certainly not lovers. But everything had come so easy for Jay and she still had her noble purpose to consider. Someone had to say no to him. “He’s only pursuing me because I’m the one who resists.”

And he was coming toward her now with a conquering light in his eyes. She shuffled back another step.

Cassandra touched her shoulder. “You’re afraid of him.”

“No.” Nikki whipped her head around. “Heck no! I’m not afraid of any man.”

And then the man in the room was there, standing beside her. He wore a pair of soft-looking jeans sans the usual holes and frays that would normally go hand-in-hand with denim that buttery. His mint green shirt was oxford cloth, the usual style, but it didn’t look usual on him, unbuttoned to show the strong column of his tanned throat and rolled to reveal his powerful forearms.

It reminded her of his annoying, early-morning habit of near-naked kayaking. Of his bare, rippled torso and his inguinal ligaments she ogled every morning.

“Cookie,” he murmured. His hand slid up her back, bumping over the strings of her “corset” T-shirt to reach the smooth skin between her shoulder blades.

To prevent a shiver of reaction, she clenched her stomach muscles hard, then narrowed her eyes at him as she iced her words. “Good God, could you get more obvious? I know you’re copping a feel to see if I’m wearing a bra.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss the side of her mouth. His wandering hand slid to her butt. “And checking for panties, too.” He cupped a cheek.

She swatted his hand away, but heat still sprinted down the backs of her legs as wetness rushed between her thighs. This was what she would be afraid of, if she was afraid of anything.

For the last twelve years, she’d had to nurture her sexual responses, babying the tiny, smoldering blazes that so rarely ignited inside of her. She’d close her eyes and conjure visions in her head, picturing an anonymous man pleasing some woman—always some other woman. Maybe it was strange, but like blowing on embers to start a real fire, it had worked well enough to attempt intimacy a time or two.

With Jay, though—with Jay it was different. Jay was the fire, and his touch, his smile, the press of his mouth against her cheek could start the burn.

It was unfamiliar, okay? And it was natural to be uneasy with the unfamiliar.

Or afraid of it.

No. She wasn’t afraid of anything.

As if he sensed her uneasiness, Jay frowned, and tucked his hand under her chin to tilt her face to his. He looked into her eyes. His fingers were warm, and his thumb absently stroked the soft underside of her chin.

“Sink or fly,” he murmured, shaking his head. Then his voice strengthened. “Are you okay?”

No. Because as she dropped her lashes to get away from his piercing gaze, one of her visions popped into her head. But it wasn’t an anonymous couple in some anonymous, private peep show. She saw herself on the stairs at Jay’s house.

I look into your eyes and don’t know whether I’m going to sink or fly.

Then, in her mind, it was Jay. Jay gathering her—Nikki, with her wavy hair and her sprinkle of freckles—close. In an instant, she was melting against him, candle wax to his flame, her face flushed, her mouth already opening for his kiss.

More heat pooled at the juncture of her thighs and the flesh there throbbed. Her eyes flying open, she tried scurrying back, but he tightened his hold on her chin and bent to press his lips to hers.

“Cookie,” he whispered against her mouth. “I can’t wait to get you alone.”

What would happen then? Her stomach jolted at the thought, at what it would be like to have free access to that golden chest that had been fascinating her from the very first day. How would the hard parts of his body feel rubbing against the wet heat of hers?

She shivered and his head lifted as he took her hand. “I thought we could have a private picnic at my house…I ordered a basket for us and it’s already in my car.” Like a starstruck zombie, she let him lead her five feet toward the front door.

Then her errant self-preservation stepped in. Yes, he could melt her into a puddle of want. And yes, she’d stripped down in his kitchen the day before in a reckless, sexual version of “bring it on.”

Still, any woman with sense, even one like her who wasn’t worried about the state of her heart, would remember she was working for the man. If tonight ended in his disappointment, would it affect him recommending her for future jobs?

She could refuse him, citing her career.

That was the ticket.

Nikki dug her feet into the floor of Malibu & Ewe. “Jay—”

The front bells sang out again. Fern and her sullen boyfriend, Jenner, ambled into the shop. He had the girl caught tightly against him as they moved. Nikki wondered if she could breathe.

“There you are,” the girl called out to Jay. “Your cell’s not working.”

He grimaced. “Our famous Malibu reception.”

Nikki already knew about this. The proximity of the Santa Monica Mountains on one side and the Pacific on the other made coverage spotty, at best.

“Well, I’m checking in like I said I would.” She fiddled with the hair hanging over her shoulder. It fell in a pin-straight, gleaming mass that all but covered her neck and half of her double-layered tanks. A tiny skirt, the size of Nikki’s palm, hung from her prominent hipbones to the top of her thighs.

This was the responsible cousin?

The cousin the family thought could take care of herself?

Maybe Nikki was projecting. And to be honest, the outfit wasn’t any more outrageous than what other girls around town wore. But the boy’s possessive hold on the teenager had Nikki’s stomach hopping again.

Jay glanced from Jenner to his cousin. “I thought you were spending the night with Marie.”

“I am. But first I’m going to a…uh, get-together at Zuma.” She glanced at her boyfriend, then back at Jay’s face. “Jenner will drive me over to Marie’s house after the beach closes at ten.”

The lanky boy tossed his head to move his long hair out of his eyes. “Sure I will. After the par—I mean, get-together. Just a few friends, a bonfire, you know. We’re going to roast marshmallows.”

Riiiight, Nikki thought. Surely Jay wouldn’t fall for that one?

But he nodded instead of protesting. “Okay then. Have fun.”

Jenner spun as if he might be attacked by yarn cooties at any moment. The quick movement caught Fern by surprise, and she slid out of the boy’s grip, her hair flying back as she turned to catch up with him.

They were out the door in the space of a breath.

Jay’s hand tightened on Nikki’s. “Shit. Was that what I thought it was?”

It wasn’t her place. None of this was her business. That girl wasn’t Nikki twelve years ago, caught in the clutches of a controlling, older boy and her own emotional turmoil. “What did you think it was?”

“A hickey, damn it. A hickey on the side of her neck.”

Nikki’s eyes had caught the bruises on the girl’s wrist.

“Is it too late to play the grown-up card?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Not if you are a grown-up.”

“Shit,” Jay said again. He tugged her in the direction of the door once more. “Change of plans. We’re taking our little picnic to Zuma.”

Nikki found herself going along without a protest, her plan to avoid tonight’s date taking off on the ocean breeze. With a sigh, she realized she was now more concerned for Fern than she was for herself.

Ten

How would you like to stand like a god before the crest of a monster billow, always rushing to the bottom of a hill and never reaching its base, and to come rushing in for a half a mile at express speed, in graceful attitude, until you reach the beach and step easily from the wave…?

—DUKE KAHANAMOKU, INVENTOR OF MODERN SURFING

Zuma was a mega-beach, two miles long and 500 feet of sand between the road and the water. Dozens and dozens of volleyball courts were strung near the parking area that was itself bigger than most California beaches Nikki had ever visited. As it neared sunset, Jay pulled in, passing carloads of sunburned Angelenos heading out. They found an empty space and he reached into the back of his Porsche to pull out a large picnic basket.

“I hope you have something tasty packed in there,” she said as they hurried across the blacktop toward the wide expanse of sand. “Kiwis and Evian won’t satisfy me, unlike those breasts-on-a-stick that you usually date.”

He ignored the dig, which wrote volumes about his preoccupied state as he scanned the vicinity. “All I know is I better find a girl, a party, and something grilling pretty damn quick.”

The grim note in his voice had Nikki’s insides twitching again. If Jay was worried, then she…

Then she didn’t have to worry at all. Fern’s situation wasn’t her business. Fern’s life wasn’t a replay of hers.

He glanced over at Nikki. “You think I’m overreacting?”

She thought she wanted to keep her opinions to herself. Given what happened yesterday, when her conversation with Michelle had revealed more than she’d intended, zipped lips seemed a safer way to go. If she spoke up, she might speak of too much, and she liked her secrets safely buried.

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