Picture Perfect Summer Page 3

  I take a step closer, simultaneously pulling her to me. “This isn’t the last time, not by a long shot.” With my free hand, I cup the side of her face. She feels so warm and smells so damn good. Her eyes are wide and searching, everything she thinks and feels are reflected in them. I don’t think there’s a deceptive bone in her body. “I’ve never been a big talker, but for you, I’ll try.”

  “Oh my, Mr. King,” she whispers, then licks her lips. “I’ll try not to talk too much.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t agree to that.”

  Her brows rise. “You like my chattiness?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I dip my head, wanting to kiss her, but unsure if she’s of the same mind. “I’m very interested in what’s in that head of yours.”

  Her mouth rounds. “Wow.”

  “Right now, I want to know if you’d be okay with me taking you in my arms,” I say, my lips inches from hers. “Right now, I want to know if you’d also be okay with me kissing you while I do it.”

  She makes a sound, sort of like a whimper combined with a yes before clearing her throat. “I’m more than okay with everything.”

  My intentions are to take it slow, tease this kiss out of her until she can’t talk, and blow her mind. But True flips the tables on me.

  She doesn’t wait. She presses her body firmly against mine, wraps her arms around my neck, and kisses me with the heat of summer. Her lips are full and firm. The way she moves, confident. True is not a wallflower, no matter how brightly she blushes.

  Desire and lust course through my veins, and my hands move of their own volition, seeking out the curve of her waist, the small of her back, and finally the nape of her neck. I cup the back of her head, bite down on her bottom lip, and earn the happiest moan I’ve heard to date from her.

  I can’t stop my smile and a second later, I can’t stop myself from pinning her against the wall, her lithe body rubbing against me and making my eyes water.

  “You are so good at this, Duke,” she whispers.

  “Hat tip to you, sunshine.” I kiss the corner of her lips. “You’re like a tiger, a ferocious little tiger attacking me, and I happen to like that very much.”

  She grins against my mouth and I swear in that moment, I fall a little bit in love with her. I’ve never smiled while kissing and I’ve sure as hell never talked the way I just did.

  Comparing her to a tiger? Who the fuck does that?

  Me, apparently.

  Her tongue traces my top lip for a hot second before she dives right back in again, full force and completely into this moment. Every inch of my body is hard, aching for her, but I don’t expect anything other than this kiss.

  Hell, the kiss might have been pushing it.

  “If this is your way of convincing me to go out with you again, consider me a firm yes.”

  I laugh, my head falling back as I let the joy of True wash over me. She takes the opportunity to press kisses against my neck, her teeth scraping against my skin until I can’t take it.

  Framing her face with my hands, I kiss her one last time, hard and fast, then again, taking my time. Flesh against warm flesh until she’s panting, and I am too. I pull away, looking into her star-filled eyes. Her lips are swollen, and her face is perfect planes and curves of beauty.

  “Come surfing with me tomorrow,” I say.

  “As you wish,” she says. “But I’m not too sure about surfing.”

  “Don’t worry, sunshine, I’ll keep you safe.”

  ***

  The next day I pack my truck with not only Laird’s boards and mine, but one of his older ones as well. I’d borrow my sister’s but she’s several inches taller than True, so the board won’t work for her.

  Laird leans against the side of the truck, staring me down as I secure the boards. “Why is she coming with us?”

  I must have asked myself that question a thousand times this morning, once the horniness finally wore off, and I could think straight again. Swear I spent the night in a cold shower because of that kiss. Too bad my clarity had no answers beyond I simply want to spend time with True. “I invited her.”

  “Why did you invite her?”

  I pause mid-tie. “For someone who isn’t interested in girls, you sure as fuck are nosy about this one.”

  “Unlike you, Barron, and Deacon, I’m already loyal to one girl.” He pushes away from my truck and stomps around to the other side. Ah, the temper tantrum of a thirteen-year-old boy is a sight to behold. “You need to pick Ophelia up on the way.”

  “You got some big balls for someone who doesn’t sport enough hair on his upper lip to call it a mustache, yet keeps trying to shave anyway. I suggest you ask nicely.”

  “Please.” Laird flips me off. “Stop by and get Ophelia like we always do.”

  I toss the ropes down and march over to my little brother, grabbing him by the shoulder. He starts punching at me, but I take his puny-ish hits. “Look I get that you’re mad. I get that you’re still pissed over dad’s suicide, and I get that you don’t want anything else to change, but this fit you’re throwing is ridiculous. True is a nice girl who will be joining us as often as possible. Deal with it like a man and be nice to her, or you can keep your punk ass at home this summer.”

  Laird glares at me, his ocean-colored eyes full of rage, his fists raised to hit me again. “Will you still pick up Ophelia?”

  I stare at him a moment. He’s dead serious. “Why?”

  “You know why,” he mutters.

  Actually, I have an idea but I want to know Laird’s reasons. “Pretend I’m dumb.”

  He smirks. “That’s not hard at all.”

  “You’ve got about two seconds before I drag your ass back in the house.” I shove him away from my truck.

  He digs in his heels. “She needs a break from her crazy ass mother,” he shouts and I stop pushing. “She’s fucking evil, Duke. She won’t let Ophelia go anywhere.”

  “Watch your mouth when speaking about someone else’s mother.” Crazy ass and fucking evil might be apt descriptors, but he still needs to show restraint. “It’s not about what you think she is; it’s about how you want to be known. Your job as a man is to be a protector, not a damn gossip whose mouth is in fifth gear while his brain is idling. Gossip does Ophelia no good.”

  “I guess you’re right.” He deflates, no longer fighting me. “What can I do, then?”

  “Be there for her.” I let him go. “Listen to her when she needs someone.”

  “She doesn’t have a phone.”

  Laird doesn’t either, but to point out they can use landlines is moot. Plus, they’d both think it was akin to sending Morse Code messages. “When you’re together, instead of thinking about how to get in her pants, think of ways to make her life easier.”

  “Shut up. It’s not like that with her. I’m not... Can we not talk about this stuff?” His face heats and he stops looking me in the eye. Just like that he’s a kid again, a little boy who is trying to find his place in a world where his father no longer lives. “She’s my best friend is all, and I want to keep her safe.”

  “Now that sounds exactly like the man who embraces his role as protector.” I slap him on the back, proud as hell. “Little brother, I’ll help you help her the best way I can, but don’t get your hopes up too high. Mrs. Randolph might be an unfit parent in your eyes, but she’s got a lot of pull in this community.”

  “Only because she knows dead people’s secrets, like the real way they died or who they were with when they died. Ophelia said her momma was on the phone with the mayor, talking about someone on the city council’s indiscretions.”

  “Sometimes secrets are our most powerful weapons.” Especially when they’re monetized.

  Laird gives me a look. “And other times?”

  “The truth, especially when it hurts, is the most powerful of all. It’s like the Infinity Gauntlet.” I grin, mess up his hair, and walk back to my truck while he stands there. I toss a look at him over my shoulder. “Are you c
oming or what?”

  His grin matches mine, I think, even with a mouth full of braces. “Shotgun.”

  “Until we pick up the ladies.”

  Laird groans. “I hate ladies.”

  “Ophelia’s one.”

  He flips me off. “Stop reminding me.”

  With a chuckle, I get in and start up the engine as he climbs inside with me. “One day, I won’t have to because you won’t be able to ignore the fact. I just hope you’re a gentleman when that happens.”

  Chapter 5

  True

  I’ve never had a date right after the first day or one right after the first kiss. And, oh my word, what a kiss.

  I can’t stop thinking about it. The way he held me. The way he looked into my eyes like I was the only woman on the planet.

  A shiver runs through me, and I smile because I want to kiss Duke again, as soon as possible, and while I’m not exactly shy about going for it, I am against making out with a guy in front of his little brother.

  Said little brother has got a look of pure aggravation and irritation on his face and has had it firmly fixed there since they picked me up.

  I don’t have siblings, so I don’t know if this is normal, or specifically directed at me because I’m interrupting their time together.

  “We need to make another stop,” Duke says, making a left onto Mockingbird Lane. The houses get progressively smaller and the yards, progressively grassless. It’s like life is ending as we travel. At the very end of the street sits an imposing house that looks like it’s better situated for the mainland or Transylvania.

  It’s dark brick and black wrought iron. Massive in structure with a sign out front that reads Lockhart Funeral Home.

  “Are we paying our respects? I don’t think what I have on is appropriate.” I glance down at my halter-top bikini and grimace. Sure, I’m wearing a cover-up, but it’s crocheted. In other words, it’s perfect for the beach and that’s about it.

  “Be right back,” Laird says, then all but jumps out. He runs up to the house, then around the side.

  I glance at Duke. His face gives away nothing, but his eyes are watchful. “This isn’t odd at all.”

  “This is Ophelia’s house,” he says.

  “The girl from the beach?”

  He tightens his hands on the steering wheel. “Yeah. Laird has permission to take her with us.”

  “You don’t sound happy.”

  “Laird wants to save her. He’s going to be disappointed when he finds out he can’t.”

  “Spoken like a true pessimist.”

  He smiles faintly. “Said the optimist.”

  “I think it’s sweet he wants to do that.”

  Duke shakes his head. “When he was seven, maybe even ten, it was sweet. But at thirteen, it’s straight up becoming an obsession.”

  “I didn’t realize that saving people means you have obsessive qualities.”

  His stormy-blue gaze washes over me. “It’s in his DNA.”

  “Oh?”

  Duke lets go of the steering wheel and takes my hand in his, lacing his fingers through mine. “Right now, I find myself obsessed with a Prince from Royal Bay.” He lifts our entwined hands to his mouth, then kisses my knuckles. My mouth goes dry. “It’s not reasonable to want to spend every day with you when we just met.”

  “Reasonable-smeesonable.” My voice is breathless. “Sometimes you just have to throw caution to the wind and go for it.”

  “Not my style.”

  “It is mine.” I wriggle my brows at him. “I know! You actually wanted to learn my style and that’s the real reason you attacked me with your surfboard.” I lean in closer. “You saw me walking your way and thought, she’s got it all figured out and I have to gain some of that knowledge, but to just ask her out... that would be crazy talk. So, I’ll bash her in the leg and—”

  “Shut up,” he murmurs, right before his mouth crashes into mine. He cups the back of my head, his fingers tunneling through my hair. “Cherry lip gloss. I like cherries.”

  I grab his t-shirt urging him closer. “I’ll wear it every day.”

  He nips at my bottom lip. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  “I like your style.”

  He smiles against my lips, and I want to cheer. Duke’s smiles are rare, and each time I can make one appear, it’s like the sun bursting from the clouds. Heat flows between us, touching every part of me until I’m burning for more. I attack his mouth greedily, knowing that at any moment, we will be interrupted.

  Duke pulls away, kissing the edge of my temple. “Laird’s back.”

  Reluctantly, I kiss his cheek and sit back in my seat, flipping down the visor to fix my hair. My reflection shows a woman, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from being so very thoroughly kissed. I like looking at that woman.

  With a smile, I close it and wave at the couple who is practically at the truck now.

  My smile turns into a frown. Ophelia looks as though she’s been crying. Laird looks... pissed, but judging by the way she’s clinging to him, he’s not the one responsible for her tears.

  “Dammit, can the woman give Ophelia a day to be a kid?” Duke mutters under his breath. He turns and so do I as they crawl in the backseat. “Everything okay?”

  Ophelia nods, but Laird shakes his head. “I had to break her out.”

  “Out of what?” I ask.

  Laird’s vibrant blue eyes meet mine. “The basement.”

  “Do I need to speak with Mrs. Randolph?” Duke asks, his jaw set in a firm line.

  “Momma isn’t home.”

  “She left you alone, locked in the basement,” I all but shout. Ophelia flinches and Laird gives me a death glare. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay,” she says. “Sometimes, Momma forgets that I’m working in there.”

  That’s not okay in any sense of the word. Wait. She works in there? As in works with dead bodies? I gulp, wanting to ask, yet dreading the answer.

  Duke speaks up, “I’ll have a talk with her when we bring you home this afternoon.”

  I expect Ophelia to argue, but she only whispers okay and leans on Laird, her eyes closing. Long, black lashes rest against the tops of her cheeks. My gaze goes to their tightly held hands as Laird whispers, “Don’t worry. Tonight, we’ll go to our place, okay? I’ll bring all your favorite food, and you can sleep with the windows open. I’ll keep watch the entire time.”

  “Promise?” she asks as Duke pulls away from the funeral home.

  “Swear it.”

  Slowly, I turn around in my seat. Duke has it all wrong. His little brother isn’t obsessed with Ophelia. He loves her.

  ***

  “Let’s start with the basics,” Duke says as we stand at the edge of the ocean. “You do know how to swim.”

  I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t in Arizona so long that I forgot.”

  He grunts. “You know how to spot a riptide?”

  “Let it carry me out to sea instead of fighting it, but avoid that bad boy altogether if possible.” I point to the swirling water in the middle of two waves breaking on the beach. “Danger zone.”

  “Good girl. Let’s go.” He plunges into the waves, me right behind him. Laird’s already in the ocean. Ophelia floats on his board while he hangs on the end of it and pushes her around. She’s still wearing the same shorts and t-shirt we picked her up in, so I’m guessing they didn’t have time to grab a bathing suit for her.

  My heart pinches a little. Maybe I could offer her one of mine. I have so many that I can’t possibly wear them all. When we get back to the truck and I can get her alone, I’ll broach the subject with her.

  Warm-ish water hits my bare stomach and I suck in a breath. This is the worst part, getting wet before I can dive in at once. Plus, hanging on to my board isn’t the easiest. While I grew up in Royal Bay, my parents weren’t exactly fans of beaching it, and I never got the chance to surf. We spent our summer days at the club or on their yacht. In the winter, we went to the Ca
ribbean.

  Finally, a large enough wave heads our way.

  “Under,” Duke shouts, but I’m already there, water rushing over me before I pop up like a cork. “Good job.”

  “Thanks.” With one hand, I wipe the salt out of my eyes and follow him even further out. We battle a few more waves until our feet can’t touch the bottom.

  Duke grimaces. “I don’t think you’ll get much practice today.”

  I look around. It’s almost as smooth as glass out this far. “That’s okay. I can practice getting on and off. You can help me, too.” His eyes widen and his mouth twists. I splash water at him. “Are you having dirty thoughts?”

  “Maybe.”

  I make a noise of faux disgust, then wink at him. “At least you didn’t say it wasn’t your style.”

  He swims closer to me, moving his board along with him. “My thoughts about you are mostly pure.”

  I squint at him. “I guess that’s okay.”

  “You want me to have mostly dirty thoughts about you?” he asks, nonplussed.

  “Not exactly. I want you to have an equal amount.”

  “Sooo, you want me to think about your tits falling out of your top, then think that it’s pretty amazing you want to teach little kids?”

  “Perfect.”

  Suddenly, he grabs my waist and puts me on top of the surfboard. “Practice standing, so you can get your sea legs.”

  The board wobbles violently under me. “I’d rather do what Ophelia’s doing.”

  “Ophelia can’t swim.”

  “What? Then why is she out here without a life jacket?” I whip my head around and go flying off my board and into the ocean. Pushing through the water, I break through the surface and sputter. “That wasn’t very nice of you to distract me.”

  Duke looks down at me from his board, his strong, tan legs straddling it. “Stop worrying about what Ophelia’s doing. By the way, do you really think I’d let her come out here without knowing the basics?”