"Uh, yeah, with those legs and that mini skirt, I'll bet."
I dipped out from his arm and socked his shoulder. "Excuse me, but I was also doing a good job."
"With the exception of the cockroach under the steak."
I leaned back into his embrace, not wanting to be away from the warmth or scent of him for too long. "Well, there was that. I wonder if he ever found the thing or maybe he just plowed through it, steak sauce and all."
"Yuck. I think I'll avoid steak for awhile. And I'm sure your legs were only part of the tips. You've always been able to charm everyone. My dad adored you. I'll never forget that day I came home from band practice and the two of you were busy chatting and laughing away while you raked up leaves in the front yard."
"Uh huh, the leaves you were supposed to rake. I liked your dad a lot."
"He was such a character. Besides me, you were one of the few people who got him and his quirks."
I thought about his dad and that cool fall day we'd spent raking his yard. The memory was definitely one of my happy triggers. "Your dad got me too. He knew I had a big crush on you. I think he knew it long before I did. But he was sworn to secrecy, I assure you."
Joshua looked over at me. "Yeah? He once told me he thought I was more suited to you than Emily. I guess he was trying to give me a hint. The man was an easy chair genius."
The movie was grainy, and it seemed like the pictures weren't fluid, as if they were being shown on some old time movie projector that halted for a fraction of a second between frames.
I laughed. "I like nostalgia and vintage stuff as much as the next person, but this movie should have been put back in the can and left in the old movie vault for good."
"I'll bet back in the day, people were watching this flick through their fingers the way I've seen you do when you’re watching one of those slasher movies."
"I do not. Only when a head is about to come off. I can handle stabbing and other limbs being shorn from the body, but when the head comes off, I'm done. I still remember that one Halloween when the theater was showing the original Halloween movie at midnight."
Joshua laughed. "You and Emily were clutching each other, trying to hide your faces from the screen and then—who was that guy you were seeing at the time, the dickwad who always wore too much aftershave?"
I turned to him with a scowl. "His name was Cody, and he wasn't a dickwad. He was actually pretty nice. You just found fault with everyone I ever dated."
"Sure as hell did." He pulled me into his arms again. "I just remember dickwad and I decided to sneak to the other side of the theater while you two were hiding your faces in your jackets. Then we watched you freak out after you pulled your heads out and found we were gone. That was a good one. It was dickwad's idea, so maybe he was better than most of the dickwads you hung out with."
"Butthead." I relaxed against him, and he trailed his fingers along my arm. I stared at the television, not really noticing what was on the screen. My mind had floated back to that night in the theater, with Emily. "Josh"—instantly my throat tightened—"how will this work? We have this huge history together, but in the middle of that history is Emily. She's at the center of our past. And I don't want to ignore or forget any of the time I spent with her."
"I don't either." He pulled me closer and kissed the top of my head. "I think we'll both have to face this our own way. I don't want to lose any of the past or any part of Emily. I still carry her with me wherever I go. But you're there too. And now that I've got you back in my life, Rebel, I don't want to lose you."
I pulled his arm tighter around me. "This does feel right, Josh." As much as it felt wrong, I thought but didn't say aloud.
Chapter 22
Joshua
"You were ignoring my texts." Dylan heaved a crate of beer onto the counter.
I continued to wipe the glasses clean, stacking them back in the racks along the bar. "I wasn't ignoring them. I read them to make sure the place wasn't on fire. But you seemed to have shit under control, so I just didn't respond."
Dylan turned and leaned against the counter and tossed a lemon back and forth in his hands. "You're smiling, so you finally got some. Did you meet someone at the conference?"
"Nope."
"Well, did you at least learn something? That ticket was three hundred bucks."
"Then the bagels should have been fresher." I looked up at him. "I did learn something. Considering we were both fairly new at this when we started, it seems we've done a pretty good job. We've been doing most of the stuff that the presenters talked about."
"Huh.” He nodded. "Good for us. Guess that's why that one suit keeps coming in here and asking if we're interested in selling the place."
I put the glass I was drying down on the rack. "What suit?"
"Some dude in a nice suit. I've seen him in here before. On Saturday, we were short on help because Penny called in sick."
My face shot up. "What did you do?"
He held out his hands. "Nothing. Fuck. She said she caught a cold at school."
"Yeah because she still goes to school. Because she's too damn young to be working here." I waved off the topic. "Finish your story."
"Yeah, thanks," he said gruffly. "I was waiting tables, and I was serving him his beer. He asked if I was the owner and I said yeah. Then he said he had investors interested in buying the place."
"Yeah? Well, did you tell him to fuck off?"
"Nope, I took his card. You never know."
"Whatever. Guess that's true." I thought about Rebecca saying that she could never return to Camden Beach, but I was sure I could convince her to change her mind. I knew the place was filled with memories, both good and bad. I understood how Rebecca felt. After I moved back home, I realized that there was hardly any place in town that didn't remind me of Emily. But if Rebecca couldn't bring herself to ever come back to Camden Beach, that was going to make everything harder.
Dylan started slicing lemons. "You never said where you went this weekend."
"I went to the beach." I turned and walked away to get a new towel and to let him know that was all the information he was going to get out of me. I wasn't ready for a conversation about Rebecca. In fact, I wasn't completely sure I'd ever be ready to talk to Dylan about it. I had no doubt he'd be pissed and consider it a betrayal to his sister. Dylan was just another layer of complication in a heavy duty confused mess. It seemed as long as we didn't try and reason it out and discuss semantics, Rebecca and I were happy as hell to be back in each other's lives. At least I knew I was happy to have her back. I'd convinced myself long ago that she was gone for good, and it was still feeling a little unreal.
My phone rang as I grabbed a clean, dry towel from the cabinet. I reached into my back pocket, but it was empty. I'd left it on the bar counter. I headed back out with the towel.
Dylan was standing with my phone in his hand. He looked up at me. "It's Rebecca."
I scowled at him for being a nosy fucker and grabbed the phone from his palm. I walked to the back with it. "Hey, Rebel, what's up?"
"It's been a lousy Monday."
"Uh oh. What's the matter?"
"The rude woman in the claims department got the last banana nut muffin."
"That muffin stealing bitch." I closed the backroom door for privacy, trying to forget about the conversation I was no doubt going to have with Dylan.
"Right? Anyhow, I was grinding out stupid data charts for my boss, Cruella, the puppy eater, and I remembered something."
"Yeah? What's that?'
"I miss you."
"Yeah?" I smiled into the phone. "Do ya?"
She lowered her voice to a sexy whisper. "Yes, and I wish you were between my legs right now."
"Fuck, you just wiped out the rest of my day. I'm not going to get anything else done because being between your legs is all I'm going to be thinking about."
"Good, that was my intent. I know it's an hour drive, but if you wanted to come see me tonight in my crummy little
apartment, I wouldn't say no."
"I'll be there with fucking bells on. The bar's closed today. Dylan and I are just getting a jump on the week. Hey, speaking of Dylan—"
"Let's not," she said sharply. "The morning has been shitty enough."
"All-all right," I said haltingly. I knew Michelle had turned a cold shoulder on Rebecca after the accident, but I was still confused about how Dylan fit into it all. He hadn't been around much and especially not during the summer of the accident.
There was a long pause, which she quickly filled with her light, frilly phone voice. "Hey, my dad sent more pictures of the vineyard. He wants me to help him run it."
I sat on the stool in the workroom, feeling as if someone had just punched the air from my lungs.
"Josh? Did you hear me?"
"Yeah, I heard you."
"I mean it seems crazy because what the heck do I know about running a vineyard? But then my muffin was stolen and the whole idea sounded a little sweeter."
"Rebel?"
"Yeah?"
"One minute you're taking my breath away by talking about me between your legs, and the next you’re taking my breath away by talking about leaving to Europe."
Silence.
"Rebecca?"
"I haven't told him yes. I was just telling you about it."
I was being an idiot and reading way too much into what was happening between us. I had to slow myself down. "Yeah, I get it. It actually sounds pretty cool, especially if you're working with puppy eaters and muffin stealers."
She laughed lightly. "Are you still coming tonight?"
"Yeah."
"Good. But no bells. My neighbors are total grumps." She hung up.
I sat there staring at the backroom. The wine rack was filled with every shade and type of wine, and the beer and ale was stacked high on the shelves. Dylan and I had done a good job. Obviously good enough that people were interested in buying the place. It was my first real success in a life that was full of mistakes.
I headed back to the bar, my head still mired in the idea of Rebecca leaving for Europe. Dylan was wiping away lemon juice and seeds from the counter. He didn't look up from his task. I relaxed a bit, deciding maybe he wasn't going to grill me about the call.
I picked up a glass from the drying rack and rubbed the towel against it. Dylan put the knives and cutting board back with more clamor than usual. He walked over a little closer than might be considered correct for the unspoken personal space rule. Dylan was about two inches taller than me, but I'd still be a formidable opponent to him in a fight. Not that I had to ever think much about that. We'd had plenty of fights, but neither of us had ever thrown a punch at the other.
"So what the fuck is going on?" Dylan asked.
"I'm drying glasses."
"Don't be an asshole. You know what I mean. How the fuck am I supposed to take it if you're hanging out with Rebecca?"
I put the last glass on the rack and dropped the moist towel over my shoulder. "You don't have to take it any way at all. It's really none of your business."
Dylan kicked at the trash can beneath the counter and put a dent in the metal side. "Bullshit. It is my business. My sister is dead, and I'm pretty fucking sure she wouldn't be happy if you took up with her sister."
"Stepsister, and again, I don't think this is any of your damn business." I walked away and almost expected him to cold cock me from behind. He was angrier than I'd seen him in a long time. I knew he wouldn't be happy about any of this, but I didn't expect him to be so mad.
"So, you're fucking her? You're fucking Emily's sister?"
I clenched my jaw tightly and took a deep breath as I walked into the storeroom to finish shelving beer. Dylan stomped behind me with heavy, angry footsteps. Maybe today would be the first time we fought with fists.
I turned around to face him. "You just need to let this drop."
"Can't fucking do that. I know about the text. Mom told me about it. The police gave her Emily's belongings, and Mindy's text was frozen on the phone screen."
From the inside, it felt like I was peeling apart like old paint on a crumbling building. I knew they'd gotten Emily's things back, and I knew the phone was included. Her body had been twisted and broken in the wreck, but her phone had survived without a scratch.
Dylan pointed at me. "I can see by the look on your face that I just nailed you with a big punch to the stomach, and I didn't even have to make my hand sore. Why the hell do you think things went south so fast in that marriage? That's why Mom didn't want you around anymore either."
I stared at him. I had a million responses but only one came out. "Fuck you, Dylan."
"That's it? Fuck you. That's all you've got to say?"
"Yeah. That's it. Take it or leave it. I don't care."
He walked out and slammed the door shut behind him. I stared at the rows of beer bottles in front of me. I was seething inside enough that I actually visualized dragging my arm across the entire shelf and throwing them all on the floor. Then I realized I'd gotten off too easy with my response. Dylan had gotten off too easy too.
I swung open the door and found him in the office going through receipts. His instant defensive stance, with shoulders taut, assured me he was just as angry as me. "Actually, I do have more to say. First of all, that kiss, it was nothing. I pulled Rebecca out of a bad situation. She was drunk and upset and it happened. That's it. But if you think for one fucking second that I wasn't turned inside out about losing Emily, about being the driver in the accident, then you don't know me at all. Emily and I were having plenty of problems at the end, but losing her was like having my heart ripped out of my chest. I drowned myself in booze and drugs, and the whole time I was in that intoxicated haze, I wished I would just float off for good. So fuck you, Dylan. And whatever happens between Rebecca and me is none of your damn business. She's not even part of your family anymore."
His jaw shifted from side to side as if he was ready to pummel me, and I almost wished he had. But he said nothing. He stared at me for a minute and then returned to the receipts.
I walked out of the office.
Chapter 23
Rebecca
Joshua knocked as I cut open the last avocado. I hurried to the door and swung it open. He was wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans and he looked as good as I'd imagined him looking all day. "I hope you like guacamole." I turned back to the kitchen and he walked inside and closed the door.
"I'm pretty sure guacamole is up there with ice cream on most people's favorite food lists."
"That's good. The market down the street had a ton that were so ripe they needed to be eaten today, so the store owner practically begged me to take some. And I thought—guacamole. There's cold beer in the fridge."
Joshua scooted past me to the refrigerator and leaned inside to grab a beer.
"Did your day get any better after the muffin tragedy?"
I tossed the chunks of avocado into the bowl. "Much. Especially after I talked to you. How about your day?"
Joshua opened the beer and smiled just enough to move his beard. "I've had better, but your call was definitely the highlight."
"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. Not the part about the phone call. That part is nice to hear. Plus, it helps me not feel too silly about the fact that I sat around with starry eyes just daydreaming about you for the rest of the day. When the puppy eater walked through on her pin pointed heels, I put my fingers on the keyboard and pretended to be busy. But I was just writing the word Butthead over and over again." I tossed some salt into the bowl and pulled in a breath as his arm snaked around me.
Joshua pushed his hard body up against mine. He pushed my hair aside to expose the tattoo on my neck. "Rebel, Rebel," he muttered quietly before kissing the ink stained skin. His hand slid up to my breasts. "Hmm, no bra. Saves us a step." His fingers teased my nipples, tugging gently at them as his cock pushed against my bottom. "I think that guacamole is going to have to wait."
I tilted my head to the
side, inviting him to kiss my neck again. The warmth of his mouth on my skin sent a shiver through me.
"So . . . exactly what were you daydreaming about, baby?" His voice was deep and raspy.
I put down the utensils and rested my head back against his shoulder. "Strangely enough, there were no avocadoes in my daydream." I mewled lightly as his hand swept down below my shorts. "But the rest is pretty much spot on. Almost as if you've been reading my mind."
I reached up and curled my hand around the back of his head, arching my back and pressing my breasts harder against his hand and my ass harder against his cock. His erection strained against the fabric of his pants, begging for release.
"Take me right here, Josh," I said on a breathy whisper. "I've been wet for you all damn day."
His growl vibrated the skin on my neck. "Fuck, baby, that's all I need to hear." His hands slid down my arms. He took hold of my wrists and braced them against the edge of the counter. He yanked down my shorts and panties and grabbed my hips. I gasped as his mouth pressed against my naked ass. He ran his tongue along the bare skin, tracing it along the tattoo on my hip. "Don't move." The zipper on his jeans opened and they dropped to the floor. "Looking at you braced against that counter is making my dick so fucking hard." He groaned as he took a firm hold of my hips. His foot wedged between my feet and nudged them apart. He pulled my ass so that it jutted out even more.
His warm body leaned over me and he kissed my shoulders and my back as his hand circled around me and pushed between my legs. He lifted his mouth to my ear. "Is this what you want, baby?" His fingers curled into the moisture pooling in my pussy.
"Yes," I mewled. "Yes." I pushed my ass harder against him, silently begging him to end my agony. But he teased my clit with his thumb, thrumming it until all I could think about was coming. "Please, Joshua."
He bit the edge of my ear a little harder than I expected. "Feel this, baby?" his finger impaled me. "That's what I'm going to do to you with my cock." He pressed his cock between the cheeks of my ass.