Secrets at Seaside Page 8

  “Amy, you deserve to be put on a pedestal. You deserve flowers and candy and a man who will always put you first. You deserve a man who will spend every minute of every day taking care of you, loving you.”

  Her hands splayed across his abs, causing his thoughts to teeter between apology and desire.

  “And you’re not that guy.”

  It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t try to respond. Silence stretched between them, doing nothing to dampen the heat that spread like wildfire beneath her palms.

  “I want it to be you,” she said with hopeful eyes.

  “So do I, Amy, but…” Had she buried their past so deep that she truly didn’t remember? “Amy, what happened between us wasn’t a mistake.”

  She turned away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Her shoulders rounded forward. Tony touched her arm with his fingertips, just to ground her. To let her know he wasn’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t going to let her send him away this time.

  “Yes, you do,” he said firmly.

  Her wet hair stuck to her back as she shook her head.

  “Amy, we were in love. We were kids. We didn’t—”

  She covered her ears with her hands.

  Tony took a deep breath and pushed on. “We made love a dozen times, and I know it was my fault. I never should have made love to you without protection. I take full responsibility, but please, Amy. Please don’t shut me out this time.”

  He felt her trembling and stepped closer, pressing his chest to her back and circling her waist with his arms.

  “I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to be there for you.”

  She broke free and crossed the room, waving her hands behind her, motioning for him to stop. To leave. To shut up.

  “Amy…”

  “Stop it, okay? Stop it. Just stop. I can’t go there.” Her words were garbled by sobs as she leaned both palms on the kitchen counter and bowed her head.

  He wasn’t going to lose her again. He’d come this far. He had to say his piece, no matter how much she fought him on it.

  “We never dealt with it, Amy, and we have to.”

  She spun around with venom in her eyes. “I dealt with it, Tony. I moved on. It never happened.”

  In three determined steps they were toe to toe. He didn’t touch her, didn’t want to get her any angrier.

  “It happened,” he insisted just above a whisper.

  She shook her head, and her body trembled.

  “It happened, Amy, and it wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”

  Tears streaked her cheeks as she inhaled a jagged breath. “I…No.”

  “Yes, Amy. It happened. Look at me. Please.”

  She stared at the floor as she whispered, “I never blamed you.”

  “You didn’t have to. I blamed myself. Every minute of every day.”

  She lifted her red-rimmed eyes. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered. “It was mine.”

  Tony couldn’t keep himself from touching her, comforting her. He brought his hands to her cheeks and looked directly into her haunted eyes.

  “Baby, you’re wrong. So very wrong.”

  For a few seconds they stared into each other’s eyes. Years of hurt passing between them like shards of glass, until Amy shrugged from his grip again and crossed the room with too much rancor in each step. It cut Tony to his core. How long could she pretend she was okay?

  “I moved on. You did, too, so let it be. No one knows. I made sure of that.”

  Man, that’s what he’d thought. She’d taken the burden alone, without him, without the girls, and who knew how that had eaten her up. How had she survived it? He’d done the same, shouldered the burden of their loss alone, but he was a man, used to dealing with hard knocks and difficult situations. He’d wanted to be there to help Amy, to share the pain and help her heal. To build a life together, a future…the only future he ever wanted.

  “I haven’t moved on,” he admitted.

  Amy blew out a half laugh, half breath. “Yeah, right. You have girlfriends galore. You have a successful business. You’re an amazing surfer—”

  “No kidding, Amy. You know me. If anyone in this blessed world knows me, it’s you. Burying my feelings, using that frustration to excel in other ways and try to prove myself worthy is what I do best. Wearing a coat of armor so thick it smothers me but never showing it to the world. That’s me. Those women were camouflage.” He turned his back to try to gain control of the burn in his gut.

  “Don’t you know why I take care of you? Why I make sure you don’t get hurt by other jerks who are only looking out for themselves? Don’t you see how hard it is for me to leave when I carry you home? How I nearly lost my mind when the guys at that bar were checking you out? Don’t you know why I’ve never had a single long-term relationship?” He turned around and closed the distance between them again.

  She turned her back to him and wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Because of you, Amy. Because of us. Those women were substitutes. Every single one of them. I don’t know if I can be the man you want and the man you need, but darn it, I want to try.”

  She turned back around, her gaze and voice softer. “You’re the best man I know, Tony.”

  “Bull. The best man wouldn’t have given up when you sent me away. The best man would never have made love to you without protection and risked a pregnancy in the first place.”

  She circled her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his chest, and his anger turned to sadness, softening his tone.

  “The best man wouldn’t have filled the gaps with other women.”

  “Tony…”

  His body was shaking now, darn it. He felt like he could barely breathe.

  “You’re strong and sensitive. You’re thoughtful and more of a man than Rambo. Any guy would have…” Fresh tears filled her eyes. “Would have been with other women. You did what you had to in order to move on, to survive, just like I did.”

  He closed his eyes to try to center his thoughts. When he opened them, he nearly gave in to her trusting, honest gaze and the desire building within him, but she’d sent him away once before, and he knew he couldn’t survive it again. And he’d turned her away so many times, he wasn’t sure she could survive it if it wasn’t real. He had to be sure this time. Sure of her love and sure that he could be all she’d ever need.

  Her eyes remained trained on his as she drew her shoulders back and spoke in a confident, warm tone. “And you’re the only man I want.”

  His breath left his lungs in a rush. He’d waited fourteen years to hear those words, and now he wasn’t sure he was worthy. He moved her wet hair from her shoulders and stroked her cheek. His words tumbled painfully from his lips.

  “I’m not the best man, Amy. You’re the only woman I want in my life, and I didn’t protect you at a time when it mattered most.”

  She stepped back and looked up at him through wet lashes. “You did what mattered most. You loved me.”

  He pulled her against him again, needing her close in case she didn’t want anything to do with him after everything they’d said and what was yet to be said. In case this was all he’d ever have. He drew in a deep breath and held it, preparing for her response, clenching his teeth a few times to strengthen his resolve for honesty.

  “We were so careful all those nights we made love that summer. That night in the woods, I was too weak. I’m a man, Amy. I should have been thinking of you, not me. You should always come first. All I could think about was being intimate with you, loving you, joining together in a way that would make me feel whole again. Only you could make me feel so loved, and damn it…”

  He swallowed against the tears welling in his eyes with the memories of how she’d freed him. She was the only one who had noticed the changes in his father that summer. How many times had he hammered Tony’s worthlessness into his head? You won’t amount to anything. A surfer? Surfing is for losers. Get a job. Tony had never told a soul.
Not once. He hadn’t even told Amy. But Amy had known. He had no idea how. His father had been careful to say things when no one was around. He’d been slick like that those few difficult weeks, so different from the man he’d been before that summer. But Amy knew. She’d eased all the hurt from what his father had said when she’d told Tony at the beginning of that summer, just as she told him now, You’re the best man I know. But that humid June night he hadn’t been the best man. He’d been selfish.

  And she’d never wavered from loving him over the following weeks. Until after she’d gone to college, when they’d returned for that fateful weekend. The weekend they’d lost the baby he’d had no idea they’d conceived.

  “I knew it was risky. I knew that withdrawing wasn’t foolproof. I was older than you. I knew the risks, and I still did it. You need a guy who won’t ever be that weak.” He looked away, not wanting to see the disappointment he was sure was filling her eyes.

  She laughed, a sweet, unexpected, tear-laced laugh.

  Laughed.

  He looked down at her, and she was smiling through her tears.

  “Did you take a vow of chastity that I’m not aware of?” she asked.

  He couldn’t even form a response. He couldn’t find one funny thing about their discussion.

  “Tony…” She pressed her lips to the center of his chest, and he felt the walls around his heart crumble a little more. “I can’t deal with the past, not now. But you’re human. Any man would have made love to me in that way and filled that empty place with other women when I sent you away.”

  “Not when they loved someone else.”

  She dropped her eyes, and in that moment he realized what she wasn’t saying. She’d been with other men. Of course she had. He’d known that, hadn’t he?

  “Yeah, they would,” she whispered.

  He pushed away thoughts of her with anyone else and focused on them. “Bull. Caden and Peter, do you think they would be with other women? Even for a second? Kurt, for Pete’s sake?”

  She laughed again. “Uh, yeah. If they’d been…if they’d gone through…”

  She couldn’t even say the words, and he knew, at least on some level, that they’d never be able to move forward until they both dealt with their loss.

  “It’s normal,” she whispered.

  “I never wanted to keep things secret back then, and I allowed myself to be swayed. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that you deserve a man who is better than normal.”

  “Tony, I don’t know where you got the idea that I should be put on a pedestal, but I shouldn’t. I’m the one who sent you away. I’m the one who couldn’t handle it.” Her thighs were still pressed against his. She had to feel how just being close to her again, allowing himself to feel again, with her, changed his very being, swamping him with memories of their love and the connection he’d never stopped feeling—memories of their bodies as close as conjoined twins.

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” he said.

  “Tony.” She sighed. “I’m addicted to my label maker. I have the body of a prepubescent girl, and I can’t hold my liquor.” She ran her fingers up his back, sending heat to all the right—and wrong-for-the-moment—places. “I can’t deal with heavy things. I hide from them. I don’t deserve a second look, much less to be put up on a pedestal.”

  “Let me be the judge of what you deserve, okay?”

  She leaned in so close her breath brushed over his bare chest. Torture. Pure, unadulterated torture.

  “No,” she whispered. “You aren’t a good judge of what I need, because what I need is right here, right now. We don’t have to deal with the past. I have no idea why you think you’re not good enough to be with me, but from the feel of things, I think you want to be.”

  He narrowed his eyes and gripped her shoulders. “I never said I wasn’t good enough. I said you deserved better. There’s a difference.” He was powerless to resist sliding his hand down her hip to the curve of her thigh, inciting a sexy mew from Amy.

  “You’re the best, Tony. Can’t you see that? You’re one of the top three surfers in the country. People pay money for you to tell them how to live their lives. Who could be better than you?” Her breathing became shallow as he dropped his other hand to her thigh.

  He had driven himself to succeed in his career, but he’d never pushed himself to be the best boyfriend he could be. He’d pretty much spent his life avoiding being a boyfriend, because every other woman was a substitute for the one he really wanted. The one he really needed. The woman he truly believed deserved more than a guy who hadn’t fought for her all those years ago when she’d sent him away, a guy who had never been able to commit to a long-term relationship since—and worried now that he might let her down.

  “It’s not about how successful I am, Amy. I need to prove to myself that I can be the man you deserve, and I need to prove it to you before I can call you mine again. I need to know I’ll never risk your health again. I mean, I know it already, but I need to prove it to us both.” He wanted to kiss her, to slide his hands across her beautiful body and finally take what had felt like his for way too long, but he held back. They needed to deal with the past, but he couldn’t say that now. She’d come a long way. For the first time in fourteen years, she acknowledged that they’d been together. That was huge. A start. A frigging blessing.

  “Maybe you don’t know what I need after all,” she challenged.

  He breathed deeply, trying to ignore the way every bit of him wanted to give in to what she wanted. But Tony wasn’t a man who believed in doing things he’d regret. Not anymore, and especially not with Amy.

  “I know you better than you know yourself. Can’t you see that?” He tangled his hands in her hair and tilted her head back. “You’re everything to me, Amy. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of before I fall asleep.” He pulled her impossibly closer and lowered his mouth so their lips were a heartbeat away.

  “It’s your voice I hear pushing me through those treacherous swells, and it’s your voice I hear in my head right now, guiding me to do the right thing by you.”

  He had to kiss her. Just one kiss. He wasn’t strong enough to leave without one kiss, restaking his claim, showing her how much he loved her.

  “I’m not worthy of a pedestal,” she whispered.

  “You’re so very worthy.” He paused to keep himself from lowering his lips to hers.

  “Statues are put on pedestals,” she whispered, blinking up at him. Her fingernails, which had grazed his skin so lightly, dug into his back. “Statues are cold and hard. I’m warm and soft in all the right places, not at all like a statue.”

  She was reaching so far out of the way she normally behaved that he clenched his jaw just to try to remain in control.

  “You say all the right things, Amy, but I know you. You’re going to wake up conflicted tomorrow, and I don’t blame you.”

  His heart threatened to burst through his chest as he tightened his grip in her silky hair and whispered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do this. It will only muddy the waters, but, Amy…I can’t wait a second longer.”

  He sealed his lips over hers, and years of want and lust came crashing like a wave, holding him spellbound as she opened her mouth to him and slid her tongue over his. A storm of emotions rocked through him: greed, lust, disbelief, and a swell of love that seemed as endless as the sea. She tasted sweet and ripe, like she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment. Her body molded to his effortlessly, naturally, as he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, feeling the tension and excitement as real as when he entered the barrel of a wave, knowing it had the ability to drown him and needing it too badly to turn away.

  He lowered her to the bed and followed her down. She circled his neck with her arms and arched up with a needy moan when he tried to reluctantly draw away from her. He moved beside her on the bed, finally pulling back from her delicious mouth and their mind-numbing kiss. He bru
shed her hair from her forehead and kissed the corners of her mouth, feeling her hot breath against his cheeks, spurring him to take more than he intended. He kissed her forehead, the soft indentation beside her eye, her jaw, and heaven help him for being weak, he allowed himself a luscious taste of her collarbone. She was his drug, even after all these years.

  She arched her neck and fisted her hands in his hair, jolting him back to reality.

  “Yes.” Her needy whisper cut him to his core.

  He needed more of her. All of her. He didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t ready. Would he ever be? He sealed his lips over hers, probing, memorizing, claiming her mouth as his. She met him stroke for eager stroke. His hand slid down her rib cage to the hem of his T-shirt she was wearing and met her bare hip bone.

  What was he doing?

  He forced himself to tear his lips from hers and pulled back with a gasp for air.

  “We have to stop.”

  “No.” She pulled him toward her again.

  He smiled at her determination, so reminiscent of that incredible—and treacherous—summer.

  “Tony, please.”

  He was quickly careening toward giving himself up to her. To be one hundred percent utterly and completely hers once again was everything he wanted. He was weakening again. She needed strong.

  He needed to stop.

  Now.

  “Babe,” he panted out. “We have to stop.”

  “Noooooo.” She buried her face in his chest and clutched his arms for dear life.

  “I’ll never forgive myself if we do this, Amy. Not now.”

  Not until I know we can deal with the past and move forward without regret. Not until I’m sure you won’t send me away again. He couldn’t say either of those things; all he could do was frame it in a way that hopefully wouldn’t scare her off.