Beachcombing in the Bahamas (Once Again #11)

Chapter 29

29

T he cove was booked, the morning was gorgeous, the picnic basket was in the back, and Yvette was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

And she wore the ruby necklace he’d given her for Christmas.

“How did your talk go with Kacey?” Brock wanted to ask so much more. If Yvette had changed her mind, if she forgave him, if she still loved him? If the necklace meant she wanted their relationship to be completely out in the open?

“Things went well,” she said, and he glanced at her, finding a smile on her face, a good smile, maybe even a happy one, certainly not strained. It was New Year’s Eve, she wore his necklace, and he wanted to believe they would soon have something to celebrate.

The Jeep bumped over the track, surprising a squeak out of Yvette. She held the top of her head as if she were about to bounce against the roof.

“I hope she dumps Darryl,” he said.

She nodded. “I told her she was an adult and could make any choice she wanted, but I felt Darryl wasn’t the right one. And she said she was done with him.” He felt her turn toward him, and he met her gaze briefly before concentrating on the rough road. “But who knows what she’ll do when he talks to her.” She sighed, the sound clear over the Jeep’s engine. “Back at school, he might talk her into forgiving him.”

Brock held the wheel straight as the track grew narrower, tree branches scraping both sides of the vehicle. “She’s a smart girl, and now she has the full picture, she won’t take him back.”

With another glance, he saw her smile again, wanted to wrap it around him. And he missed seeing the looming pothole straight ahead, slamming the left front tire into it and jolting his teeth together. But that smile was worth it.

All he wanted was Yvette’s happiness.

He could ask her now, but he sensed she had a plan. Hopefully she wanted to seduce him with food, champagne, and lovemaking.

She’d seduced him so long ago, even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it. Even if he hadn’t acknowledged it until that night nine months ago. And now he could never let her go. Through the trees, a sliver of beach and ocean appeared, and finally, he pulled into the small clearing that served as the parking lot. They were alone as he climbed out of the Jeep and reached in the back for the picnic basket.

“What did Olive make us?” she asked.

“She said it was a surprise.” He held up the basket. “But I made sure she included champagne.”

Yvette smiled. “It’s never too early for champagne.”

His heart beat hard and fast, the hairs on his arms raised with anticipation. Their cabana—he thought of it as theirs—stood on the sand, its curtains pulled down around the lounge chairs, open only to the view of the sea. Two towels sat on the end of each chair, and Yvette fluffed them before laying both neatly on the loungers.

“Swim first?” He didn’t need to swim. He didn’t need to eat. He needed only her.

But she said, “Let’s eat. I didn’t have any breakfast.” She put her hand to her stomach. “And after the drive, I’m starving.”

He couldn’t help saying, “So am I.” He held her gaze, signaling that he was starving for her more than the food.

But he opened the cooler, which doubled as the picnic basket, and pulled out the champagne. “Do you want to do the honors, or shall I?”

She took it from him. “I’ll do the honors this time.” Her smile was sexy and held every promise he wanted her to make. Just wearing his necklace, the ruby beautiful against her skin, seemed like a promise.

He unloaded food onto the table, a creamy dip with celery and green onion and chunks of conch, sesame crackers to go with it, hunks of cheese, a loaf of crusty dark bread. Olive even included a wooden board, a knife, and a cheese slicer. The woman thought of everything. In a thermal container, he uncovered conch-stuffed mushrooms, still warm from the oven.

Yvette popped the cork, sending it flying into the surrounding jungle. She poured expertly, not wasting a drop, tipping the glasses to the side and waiting till the foam died down before adding more. Then she handed him a glass and sat on the edge of her lounge chair. “To beachcombing in the Bahamas,” she toasted.

He wanted more. But he sat beside her and said, “To the best trip I’ve ever had.”

Yvette laughed. “Would you really call what happened with Darryl part of the best trip of your life?”

He wanted to pull her in for a kiss. “Maybe not that part. But the rest of it. Yeah, the best.” He held her gaze as he added, “Ever.”

His guts twisted as he waited for the words that would put him out of his misery. Instead, she picked up a mushroom and held it out to him. Only a bite, he took it from her fingers with his teeth, his lips touching her skin. It was good, lightly seasoned with the slight salt of her fingers and layered with her beautiful scent. They tasted everything, Yvette moaning over each bite. And he grew harder with the sexy sounds she made.

Finally, she put a hand to her stomach. “Oh my God, I’m stuffed.” She laughed, sipped her champagne, then asked, “Are you ready for a swim now?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to swim.”

She took a long swallow of champagne, then set the glass on the table amid the detritus of their meal. Standing, she took his glass, too, putting it on the table beside hers. Then she pushed him back on the lounge chair and climbed on top of him. “Good,” she whispered. “I don’t want to swim either.” And she leaned down to kiss him.

It was a kiss like no other. Sweet with the taste of champagne, open-mouthed, her tongue swirling against his, her hair falling around them, her scent rising to fog his mind. He was no longer thinking when he shoved his hands under her dress to cup her bottom.

Shocked, but oh so pleased, he pulled back. “You’re not wearing a bathing suit.”

Her sultry smile turned his knees so weak he would have fallen if he wasn’t already lying down.

“No,” she murmured, her lips so close. “I’m not. And no panties either. I felt like doing a little skinny-dipping.” She pecked his mouth, then added, “But later. Much later.”

His heartbeat pounded against his eardrums when she reached down to palm him. And she smiled like a siren. “It doesn’t feel like you want to go swimming either.” Then she squeezed him.

He felt as if the top of his head might blow right off. Both of them.

“We need to take care of this,” she whispered, tantalizing him with her words, her touch.

He couldn’t say she’d ever been the aggressor. She loved everything they did, and she demanded the taste of him in her mouth. But somehow this was different. This was new.

This was everything he’d ever wanted.

Her hands disappeared beneath her skirt and pushed down his board shorts enough to free him. But she didn’t get up, she didn’t shove them off, she just let him nestle at the sweet spot between her thighs, shifting slightly, making him crazy.

Then she took him in her hand.

“I won’t last long with you doing that.” The words came on a rasp as she damn near stole his voice.

“Then maybe I need to do this instead.” She rose over him, stroking him. Then she slid down, slowly, taking him in centimeter by centimeter.

He groaned, pushed back against the lounger, slipping deeper inside her. Closing his eyes, he focused on the feel of her body, warm, wet, surrounding him, engulfing him. He went mindless almost immediately.

But her whisper made it through his fog of pleasure. “Touch me.”

With his thumb on the tight nub between her legs, he circled her, found himself seduced by how wet she was. Then he had to open his eyes to watch her. She was so damn beautiful, her head back thrown, rocking on him, increasing the pressure of his touch with every downstroke.

The ruby necklace sparkled around her throat as if it were his mark on her.

And she whispered, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

They entered that mindless state together, where there was nothing but them, nothing but sensation. She rocked and writhed, her body squeezing him, driving him closer to the edge while his fingers pushed her higher. Mewling sounds bubbled up from her throat, ratcheting up his desire, turning him harder inside her, pulling him deeper, faster.

He felt it start, her climax coming in the tightening of her body around him, the squeeze, the pulse. Then he felt the detonation, and she went as tight as a fist around him.

He knew her so well, knew what she needed, and he grabbed her bottom, pulled her down hard, rising to meet her, slamming inside her while she pummeled him. First the slow ride, then the fast pounding. She was still coming, still crying out, when he throbbed hard inside her, when he filled her with his essence, with everything in him. And everything he needed to give her.

Brock touched the necklace at her throat. His necklace. “Did you wear that for me?”

“Yes. And I’m going to keep wearing it so everyone can see.” Her body still trembling with the pleasure they’d shared, Yvette whispered, “Marry me.” The words felt good, they felt right. Even if they were scary too.

He held her tightly against him, his arms a balm against the world. “Hell, yes, I’ll marry you. As soon as we can arrange it. And I’ll never let you go again.”

She couldn’t help bringing up the damper on the whole thing. “Adeline will go ballistic.”

He put his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, holding her away. “I’m not Pierce. I’ll never let her come between us. If she tries pulling any of her crap, we’re outta there.”

A shudder ran through her, and it wasn’t just the last throes of her climax. “I’m not living in that house again.”

He pulled her down for a kiss, open-mouthed and sweet. “We’re buying a flat in the city. I wouldn’t subject you to her. I told you, I’m not Pierce.”

Trailing a thumb over his lips, she met his beautiful blue gaze. “I know you’re nothing like him. I’m not sure he truly wanted to marry me. I think Harris made him because I was pregnant.”

Brock shook his head. “He loved you. He told me that.”

“When? Before we were married?”

He nodded. “Then. And later too. He just couldn’t live up to that love. Or marriage. But he did love you.”

Her heart contracted. Maybe she needed to hear that Pierce felt something too. But he’d been a weak man. She thought her love could change him. It hadn’t. “He was never the strong man you are. He couldn’t stand up to her. Neither of us could.”

He stroked her hair back from her face. “He was my brother, and I loved him. But I had no illusions about him. He was an alcoholic. He was a gambler. And yes, he was a cheater too. But it was never because he didn’t love you. It was because of who he was. I sometimes wonder if he was born that way. He was always the wild child. Always getting into trouble.”

“He was so different from you.”

How many times had she wished that Pierce could be like his older brother? It had been a horrible thing to think, and she’d never said it aloud. Maybe that was the beginning of her falling for Brock, all those comparisons. “I still gave him the best I could. I tried to support him. I tried to help him.”

He pulled her down into his arms, held her tight and murmured against her hair, “I know you did. I think that was our father’s goal all along. That you would bring some sort of sense to Pierce. That he would change for love. But he never did.”

“No. He never did.” It had broken her heart long, long ago. But Brock had healed her with his love.

“Why did you change your mind?” he asked softly into her hair.

“About marrying you?”

He nodded against her. “Was it because the secret was out?”

“No,” she said. “It was Adeline. She summoned me to her room.”

Brock chuckled. “Summoned. That’s so like her. And she demanded you stop our foolish affair immediately.”

“I didn’t give her the chance to demand anything.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “I ripped the rug right out from under her and told her I wouldn’t stop seeing you or loving you.” Another kiss, sweet and hot. “Or sharing your bed.”

This time, hands on her cheeks, he held her still for a passionate kiss that filled her soul. “I love you,” he whispered.

She knew he was saying thank you for finally standing up for him. She should have done it so long ago. “And I love you.”

With his body still buried deep inside her, she sat up. “I don’t want to talk about Adeline or Pierce anymore. There’s just us now. I love you. I want you. And I’m going to marry you no matter what anyone else says.”

He drew his hands slowly down her breasts, over her abdomen, stroked her thighs. “Jodi and Kacey are good with us being together?”

She nodded. Then smiled. “We have their blessing. What about your sons? Have you talked to them?”

Hands once again on her breasts, he caressed her nipples with the center of his palms. And smiled. “Garth said he likes you a lot.”

She puffed out a sound that might have been a laugh or a scoff. “That’s all he said?”

Brock laughed. “He’s a man of few words. Like me.”

Leaning down for a quick kiss, she muttered against his mouth, “You are not a man of few words. I love the way you talk to me while we make love.”

“And I love the sounds you make when I pleasure you.”

She grew serious again. “What about Ethan and Malcolm?”

“They like you too.”

Then he slipped his hand between them, touching her, exciting her all over again. And he whispered, “I don’t care what anyone says. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine. I’m not letting you go. And I’m not letting anyone come between us again.”

It wasn’t just a promise. It was a vow. She recited it back to him. “I’ll never let you go. And no one will ever come between us.”

She made love to him again with all her heart and soul.

They spent the day swimming, eating, and loving. It was dark when they returned, the big house ablaze with light.

As they stepped inside, their children blew on paper whistles and threw confetti at them. Happy New Year banners, garlands, and streamers decorated the large living room.

Yvette put a hand over her mouth. “With everything going on, I forgot it was New Year’s Eve.”

Brock hadn’t been touching her, but now he took her hand in his, looked at her with stars in his eyes, then at their family spread throughout the large room. “Since we’re celebrating, it’s a perfect time to tell you all that Yvette and I are getting married.”

Yvette counted the silent seconds off in her head, one, two, three. By the time she’d reached five, Jodi launched herself across the room to throw her arms around Yvette in a tight hug. Then she hugged Brock too. Yvette’s heart turned over. The hugs were everything she’d waited for, as if Jodi sanctioned their love.

For a long moment, Kacey stood back, looking at her sister. Then, much more slowly, she walked to Yvette and finally let her mother take her in her arms, whispering, “He makes you happy. And I’m glad about that.”

Turning to Brock, she went up on her toes to wrap him in a hug, murmuring something Yvette couldn’t hear.

Then the boys came, Garth hugging her almost as tightly as Jodi had. “You’re good for him.” Ethan, then Malcolm, pulled her close. They gave their father hardy handclasps, until finally Brock grabbed Garth’s hand and reeled him in for a man hug.

It was obvious the two girls, Francine and Iris, didn’t know what to do. Except to smile and clap.

Trevor came to Yvette then, enfolding her in his arms. “You two should have done this a long time ago.” Reaching out, he pulled Lorna into the circle, then he man-hugged his brother and said loudly, “It’s about time, right?”

Then the room erupted with party poppers and horns and whistles. More than for New Year’s Eve, it was for them. It was the family’s acceptance, and their good wishes.

Finally, Yvette asked, “Where did you get all the streamers and banners for New Year’s?”

Jodi gasped and clapped her hands. “Olive thinks of everything. She’s got an enormous closet next to the pantry where she stores decorations for every season and every holiday.”

Yvette couldn’t help smiling. “Well, thank you, Olive,” she said even though the woman wasn’t there.

Then Adeline strolled down the stairs, slowly, regally, as if she were the queen coming down to mingle with her minions. Yvette couldn’t help the shiver that ran along her spine. But she’d vowed to Brock that no one would ever tear them apart. Certainly not Adeline.

And she said the words in her mind like a mantra, I am not afraid of you .

Stopping at the bottom of stairs, Adeline said, “I hear congratulations are in order.” Her voice dripped icicles.

Brock didn’t let her tone stop him. “Thank you, Adeline,” he said, his voice just as icy.

They both knew Adeline didn’t mean a word of it. Although she hadn’t congratulated them either.

“And when are these nuptials to take place?” she asked coolly, her nose tipped in the air as if she smelled something bad.

“As soon as we get back home.” Brock took Yvette’s hand, his skin warm against the cold climbing up her arms. Being around Adeline was like feeling the cold of an evil spirit in the room. “Neither of us wants to wait.” Turning from Adeline, he said to the room at large, “Of course you’re all coming, right?”

Adeline didn’t let anyone answer, her gaze piercing Yvette all the way across the room. “You shouldn’t be so hasty, my dear.” The word came out almost as a sneer. “There’s something we all need to talk about first.”

Yvette felt every ounce of happiness inside her die a terrible death.

Adeline wasn’t done with her yet.

And Yvette’s mantra seemed to have deserted her.