Written in the Sand (Pacific Shores Book 4) Read online

  He bent down to run the roller along the floor line and— to avoid having to ask him to move— she leaned out a little farther than she normally would have. He stood at that exact moment and Riley’s squeak of warning came too late.

  Jalen’s head connected with her cup of paint and the brush she was just dipping back into it. Both flew out of her hands.

  The chair, which had already been precariously balanced due to her overextension, gave way to gravity and tipped out from under her.

  Jalen saw the collision coming and tried to protect himself, but still had the paint roller in his hand when he curled his arms over his head.

  Riley’s stomach careened along the paint-filled sponge of the roller like luggage at an airport security check, before connecting with Jalen’s elbow.

  Only a nanosecond later the cup of trim paint bounced off Jalen’s head and did a remarkable impression of a sprinkler as it sprayed an arc of cerulean blue across both of them.

  With one swift sweep of his arms, Jalen had her tucked close in a protective gesture. He stumbled a few steps but managed to keep them on their feet. “Are you okay?”

  Riley couldn’t seem to pull in any air. Her fingers fisted into the front of his shirt and her mouth opened and closed, but still no relief of oxygen filled her starved lungs.

  And then after a moment of sheer panic, sweet air flowed in. Her whole body trembled and she gulped for another lungful.

  Jalen dropped the paint roller he still clutched into the paint tray and then took her by the shoulders. “Riley are you okay?” True concern filled his tone.

  She nodded. And eased out a long slow exhale. “Just had the wind knocked out of me for a second.”

  His hands stroked slowly up and down her upper arms. “Sorry.” His concern melted the dark chocolate of his eyes to a creamy mocha. “Are you breathing okay now?”

  She wasn’t, but it had a lot more to do with the fact that he kept caressing her than with their collision, so she just nodded.

  His hands kept stroking and she wished he would stop at the same time as she wanted to just close her eyes and revel in the feel of him so near.

  His gaze lifted to her hair and his lips twitched.

  She could feel the sticky wetness of the paint that must be drizzling down the side of her head. And he didn’t look much better. One drip of paint trickled down his temple.

  To avoid the inclination to reach up and swipe it away, she lowered her focus to where her fists had clenched handfuls of his shirt, leaving large blue splotches. She winced and reflexively swiped at the paint, but when her mind registered the firmness of the muscles below the material, she quickly snatched her hands behind herself.

  She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I think your lucky shirt just lost all its powers.”

  Humor crinkled the corners of his eyes but he didn’t remove his attention from her face, or seem too concerned about his shirt.

  His next words were low, and spoken in an almost serious tone. “You’ve gone and done it now, Riley Ross.” Another caress of his palms against her arms sent a shiver up her back, and a wave of desire straight through her heart.

  She should step away. But even though her brain sent feeble instructions to her legs, they seemed powerless to do her bidding.

  His focus drifted from her eyes to roam her features and one of his hands slipped behind her and settled at the small of her back. Gently, he tugged her against him. “Riley.” Her name was barely a whisper between them. His gaze dipped to her lips.

  She settled her palms against his chest once more. “Jalen.” She meant to hold him back and tell him this could go no further, but there was no rigidity in her arms and the words dammed up in her throat till she couldn’t seem to dislodge them. To her chagrin, she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on hers.

  There was a request for permission in his eyes and the tilt of his chin.

  She nodded ever so slightly and lifted up onto her toes, meeting him partway in a clash of lips that was at once hunger and restraint. Desire and self-control. Abandon and moderation. It was bliss and torture. Freedom yet captivity. The promise of a beautiful future, but tainted with the ugly reminder of what could never be. She groaned audibly and dropped back to her heels, effectively parting the kiss.

  She gulped for air. “Jalen, I’m sorry. I can’t—”

  His own breaths fanned her forehead. “It’s okay, I went too fast. When I came back to town, I meant to take this slower.” He caressed his palm over the back of her head and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  His words tumbled around in her brain.

  When I came back to town, I meant to take this slower.

  She pondered the phrase. He’d planned for a relationship? Wanted her? Had he come back to town for other reasons than to be the soccer coach?

  The realization awed her. But swift on the heels of that feeling came despair, sorrow, and futility. Her forehead still resting against his lips, she closed her eyes and willed away the tears. Forced herself to say the words. “Jalen, this can’t go anywhere.”

  He leaned back and touched her chin, a quizzical lift to his brow. “Why not?”

  How did she explain to him that it wasn’t just him? But on the other hand it was especially him? That two years ago a fist had not only torn away the last tattered threads of her ability to trust another human being with her heart, but had also torn away any chance she would ever have of carrying another child. She wouldn’t ask any man to walk through that with her, so she’d made a decision simply not to start any relationships. But she especially wouldn’t ask it of a man who already made her wish so deeply that her grim reality could be altered.

  And if she told him? He would only brush away her concerns as if they didn’t matter. But they did matter, and that was what terrified her the most. If it wasn’t a big deal now, someday it would be, and he would come to resent her.

  Like she resented herself.

  Riley, I said ‘commere’!

  Nate, please. Everything inside her quaked. Even the baby within her squirmed as though urging her to run. But it would only be worse for her once he caught her. And he would catch her, eventually.

  Don’t make me tell you ‘gain!

  His breath was foul. His hands clumsy with alcohol when they gripped her much too hard.

  Where’d ya think you’s gonna go, huh? Look at you… He pinched her face in one meaty hand until her lips protruded and her molars cut painfully into the soft skin of her cheeks. You think anyone else would put up with a face as ugly as this? The slap jolted her head back.

  She tilted her face away. What had she ever seen in him? Silence was her best ally.

  Look at me. He shook her firmly with each of his next words, snapping her head so that it would have been impossible to follow his command. Look. At. Me!

  Nate, please. She curled her hands around her head and bent to protect the small mound of her belly. You’re hurting me. Hurting the baby.

  Hurting you?

  The laugh. She would never forget his laugh.

  You haven’t seen anything yet, Riley girl. Not a thing.

  “Riley?” Jalen’s concerned question jolted her back to the present. Hands cupped her face, stroked it gently. Hands that belonged to a man who would never dream of causing her pain. A man who made her long to give in and let go of the fight.

  But she forced herself to consider what was fair and right. She would live with her penance. But she would never ask another to.

  He was still waiting for an answer in that quiet way of his, dark eyes solemn.

  She forced herself to step away from his touch, and glanced around at the room. Thankfully, she’d had the carpet fully covered with plastic because paint was splattered all over the floor. She lifted the roller and cleaned up the few trickles on the wall.

  He followed her. Touched her hand. Took the roller from her and returned it to the tray. “Talk to me, Riley. Why can’t this go anywhere?”

  “It’s complicated, Jalen. It just can’t—” Her phone chimed from her back pocket. She swiped her hands against her jeans and snagged it free. Her eyes closed in relief as she recognized the same number Rem had called from before. And she was honest enough to admit that a little of her relief was because this would save her from further time with Jalen.

  She tapped to answer. “Rem?”

  “Hey. We’re pulling into town now.”

  Thank you, Jesus! “I’ll meet you at Thrift and Save.” Shoving the phone back in her pocket she said, “We have to go. Rem will be there in just a couple minutes.”

  Jalen wiped his hands on a rag and motioned to the still unpainted section of the wall. “Let me stay and finish up for you?”

  Yes. That would be good. The more distance she put between herself and this man right now, the better. “Yeah. Sure. In fact, if you don’t mind…just make sure the door is locked on your way out, would you?”

  He dipped his chin and drilled her with a look that said he knew she was running from him.

  She didn’t care if he knew it, because he was right. She held up her key ring. “I have my keys. And I should probably get Rem right home. He’s had a long day.” She started down the hall, calling over her shoulder, “Thanks for your help tonight.”

  She halfway wished he would call out to stop her, but silence was the only thing that followed her out to her car.

  Disappointment mingled with relief.

  But even at that, she somehow knew Jalen Rivera didn’t consider the conversation over.

  Chapter 4

  Sunday morning, Dakota Trask reveled in the feel of Justus’s fingers laced between hers. They made their way through the foyer of the church greeting people as they went. Texts, emails, and phone calls just couldn’t co
mpare to actually having the man here by her side. The last time they’d spent more than a few hours together on a weekend had been last Christmas. And now he was here to stay. Looking for work nearby. Her feeling of contentment couldn’t get much higher. It was so wonderful to have him close.

  He’d hardly let go of her hand since he’d scooted onto the bench beside her and leaned close to settle a kiss against her temple this morning.

  They finally escaped the press of people and stepped into the parking lot. Warm September sunshine streamed down, heating the air to just-perfect. A bee droned by. And high above them one gull called to another.

  When they reached her car there was a long-stemmed red rose, wrapped in tissue and plastic, tucked beneath her windshield wipers.

  “Entertaining other admirers, Dakota? For shame!” Justus’s voice was serious but the twinkle in his blue eyes gave him away.

  Dakota chuckled. “What did you do?” She reached for the rose and found a note attached. Folding it open, she took a moment to read. There was no signature but the words were penned in Justus’s distinctive scrawl.

  She lifted him a look. “Well apparently this secret admirer wants to take me to lunch at Fisherman’s Wharf. And since I’m starving, I think I’ll have to take him up on his offer, so you have a good afternoon.” She offered him a cheeky grin.

  He chuckled and stepped into her personal space, settling his hands at her waist. “So you’re just going to go off with this unknown guy and leave me in the lurch?”

  She raised the velvet petals to her nose and lingered over the scent, then scrunched up her face into a thoughtful look and nodded. Lifting the flower, she tilted her head. “He did give me a rose, so he can’t be too dangerous.”

  “Hmmm…” He bent and brushed a wisp of a kiss across her forehead. “Do you know how good it is to be able to touch you while we are talking?”

  She stretched up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing a little earlier. Skype is nice when it’s necessary, but this is nicer.” Her lips grazed his for just a moment before she settled back to her normal height and turned her attention back to the rose. She tapped him on the chest with it. “Unfortunately for you, this other guy gave me a rose, so I have to run. Seems like he might be a close contender for my attentions.”

  He pressed his forehead to hers and looked deeply into her eyes. “Close contender, huh? I’ve apparently not been doing my job well enough if one little rose from this other guy is turning your head.”

  Dakota pretended to think. “That’s right. The last time you sent me flowers was on my birthday. Hmmm, yes, I really think I should go find out who this other admirer is.”

  Justus sighed dramatically. “Fine. But don’t expect our relationship to ever be the same if you go through with this.”

  Her heart rate kicked up a bit at that. She knew the rose was from him and they were both just being silly. But had he meant more by that last comment? Her mouth went dry. There was a certain intensity to his expression that she never remembered seeing before.

  He pulled away before she could analyze it further. “Run along then. You don’t want to be late.” He winked conspiratorially and jauntily walked toward his Z3 a few spaces down.

  Dakota chuckled and slipped into her seat behind the wheel. The fifteen minutes it would take to drive to the restaurant could not go by fast enough.

  When she arrived and gave the maître d’ her name, he immediately gestured for her to follow him. “We have a table reserved for you right this way, ma’am.”

  He ushered her to an intimate table for two tucked into a curtained alcove on the restaurant’s ocean-facing deck. Across her plate lay a small bouquet of two roses interspersed with baby’s breath. The card on this bouquet simply read, You take my breath away.

  She sank into her seat and blinked back tears of happiness. She was just turning to look out over the water when Justus’s approach caught her eye.

  He had changed into a black tux with a royal navy vest and bowtie that brought out the stunning blue of his eyes. Despite the soft breeze wafting all around her, oxygen suddenly seemed scarce. He offered a lopsided grin as he approached, but when he took in her face, concern replaced the smile.

  He squatted down in front of her instead of taking his seat, a small frown furrowing his brow. “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head. “These are happy tears.”

  Relief eased the lines of worry somewhat. “I see…” Still a question lingered in the tautness of his features. “Are you sure?”

  She smiled through her blurred vision and leaned down to touch her forehead to his. “Oh, trust me, I’m sure. What did you do to my poor secret admirer?”

  His grin was back. “I knocked him out cold in the parking lot.”

  A laugh bubbled free and her happiness threatened to spill over into another round of tears. “Poor guy.”

  Justus’s hand came up to cup her cheek. “I think he’ll survive. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded again and laid a kiss against his palm. “You just make me so happy.”

  His thumb stroked a warm path over her cheekbone. “I’m kinda glad to hear that. I was a little worried when you agreed to run off to eat with this other guy so easily.”

  She chuckled and poked him in the chest. “You goofball.” She attempted to change the subject. “You changed into a tux…”

  “Mmmhmm…” But other than that small acknowledgement, he didn’t elaborate. “Should we eat?”

  She nodded. But she didn’t want to eat. She wanted him to get to asking her the question she knew he was here to ask her. Because she couldn’t wait to throw her arms around him and tell him, yes, yes, yes!

  He tortured her through a round of hors d’oeuvres that was delivered with a bouquet of three roses. And a course of soup that arrived with a bouquet of four. She ate methodically, every nerve in her body singing with anticipation and excitement.

  He skillfully evaded all her questions about what he was up to, but she could tell by the humor glinting in his eyes that he knew she knew. And that only added to the expectation buzzing through her like so much caffeine on an empty stomach.

  Dinner was served with five roses tucked into a cocoon of ferns. And the dessert of chocolate mousse drizzled with raspberry sauce came accompanied by six more deep red blooms. “Justus, it’s too much,” she whispered, even as she admired and inhaled the aroma of the new flowers.

  “Never.” His eyes sparkling, he dipped his spoon into the mousse and held the bite out to her.

  The smooth chocolate and tart raspberries were the perfect combination. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. The soft song of the surf, the cry of a gull high overhead, the whisper of the breeze through the curtains, the gentle strains of a violin… A violin? Her eyes popped open.

  Next to their table, just outside the soft gossamer curtains, a violinist played the lilting melody. Justus no longer sat across from her. He was on one knee at her side, a look of sheer love shining in his eyes.

  She covered her mouth with a trembling hand. “Justus…” the word was barely audible.

  “Dakota…” Her name emerged a bit garbled. He swallowed, cleared his throat and started again as he reached into his jacket pocket. “Dakota, the last couple years with you have been some of the best years of my life. I love you more than I ever dreamed was even possible before we met.”

  She tilted her head and willed the tears to remain at bay. Her heart, so full of emotion at the moment, choked off any hope she might have had of responding with words.

  Justus’s brow furrowed. “But they’ve been torture too…”

  She blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that. What—

  —And then he smiled and pulled a velvet box out to where she could see it. “I think we’ve spent enough time apart. And I hope you do too, because” —he opened the lid to reveal a diamond solitaire cocooned in swirls of gold and shimmering rubies—”I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  “Oh, Justus!” She was down on her knees with him in a heartbeat, her arms flung around his neck. “Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times yes.” She pulled back just far enough to cup his face in her palms. “You make me so happy. I love you.”