Renovation (A Golden Beach Novel) Page 26

  “New beginnings? Do you mean with you?”

  A grin teased at the edge of his mouth. “If that’s what you want. I know it’s what I want.”

  She pulled free of his hand—anger, confusion, and fear all rolling over her. “I just had my heart broken, Blake. I’m not ready for anything with anyone.”

  “I think you could be, if you’d just be open to it. Besides, I’m not just anyone. I’m the one that got away.”

  Biting back a disdain-filled retort, she shoved herself away from him. “You ran away.”

  “I had my reasons.”

  “I’d love to hear them.”

  “They’re my own. I’m not in a sharing mood.”

  She threw her hands up in frustration. “There it is. You’re no different from Donovan. Closing off, trying to keep me in the dark about anything that might be too ugly.”

  His lips pursed the way they always did when he was trying to figure out how to get his way. “Okay, fine. I’d been in a car accident, someone died. I had to leave.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me? Were you hurt?”

  “No. I was fine. My parents made me leave. I made a terrible decision and listened to them.”

  “So, you killed someone and your parents convinced you to run rather than pay the price?”

  He nodded, scuffing the toe of his loafer in the dirt. “They said it would ruin me. My whole life would be over if I didn’t leave. They provided an alibi for me and made it look like my car was stolen.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She’d met his parents. They were persuasive, controlling, and definitely domineering.

  “I’ve paid for that decision every day. I never wanted to leave you.” His hand cupped her cheek, and this time she let him pull her into him.

  “What about the family of the person you killed?”

  “I . . . I don’t know how I can make it up to them. How I could even face them.”

  It was terrible. The man she’d loved so many years ago, loved and lost, was standing in front of her explaining away all the reasons she’d had for hating him. Confusion sent her over the edge and caused her to sit down on the bumper of his car.

  “So, you really didn’t abandon me because you’d found someone better?”

  Blake knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. “No. I had no choice, or at least, my parent’s made me think I had no other choice.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek.

  “I wanted to marry you, build a life with you. I loved you then and I love you now.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest as he lowered his lips to hers. This time, whether it was the confusion or the hole Donovan had left in her heart, she let him kiss her. She opened herself up to him and it felt good to be wanted. All the old feelings from her old life came rushing back. She’d loved him fiercely, had been willing to throw away everything she’d worked for to love him. Was she willing to let him in again?

  He pulled back, his eyes searching hers. “We can go slow, Valerie. Please, just tell me you’ll give me a chance?”

  She bit her lip, indecision taking hold. “Slow. Very slow, okay?”

  He kissed her again, this time just lightly. “Thank you. You’ll see. I’m where you belong.”

  Chapter 32

  “Dammit!” Valerie wiped the smudge of eyeliner off her cheek for the third time. “Angela, I can’t smudge it right.”

  Angela peeked around the door to her room and snickered. “There’s not a wrong way to do it. It’s Rocky Horror. The more smudged and tousled you look, the better.”

  “Maybe I should go as Janet. You know, in the pretty pink dress, clean makeup.”

  She looked down at her costume in dismay. Panic Station was headlining the annual Rocky Horror Picture Show Halloween party. Each year at the Roxy Theatre, there was a huge blowout party for Halloween. It always included a showing of Rocky Horror with a live cast, costume contest, props, audience participation, and lots of dancing afterward. This year, Panic Station was covering all the songs during the show. Angela had been thrilled.

  “Umm, no freaking way. You’re Janet all right, but floor show Janet is so much more fun.” Angela grabbed the eyeliner from her hands and applied it perfectly in one deft sweep.

  Valerie’s costume consisted of a corset with garters, boy-shorts, and fishnets. She’d managed to get Angela to let her buy a corset that had thick straps and kept her boobs firmly held in place. No wardrobe malfunctions tonight. Angela was dressed in sequins, a sparkling gold jacket, rainbow shorts, fishnets, and a little glittery top hat.

  “You’re a great Columbia.”

  “And you’re a sexy Janet,” she said, as she motioned for Valerie to purse her lips. “Donovan is not going to be able to hold his shit together when he sees you.”

  A cold lump formed in the pit of her stomach. “Donovan’s coming?”

  “Maybe. He usually comes to our gigs, and this is the last one before we go into the studio.”

  Valerie pulled at the hem of her boy-shorts, worried that her butt was hanging out.

  “Stop it. You look hot.”

  “Let’s go before I change my mind.” Her nerves danced in her stomach at the thought of going out in public clad only in lingerie.

  “Oh, don’t forget this,” Angela called, draping a feathery red boa around her shoulders.

  “Right. I wouldn’t want people to think I don’t have enough clothes on.”

  The Roxy Theatre was the oldest movie theater in Golden Beach. It had once been the only movie theater, complete with a brightly lit marquee. Over the years, its single screen couldn’t compete with multiplex theaters, showing in 3D or IMAX. Until the new owners took over ten years earlier, the Roxy had fallen into disrepair and been abandoned. Now it was a specialized venue, rented out for events, used for concerts, and of course, the annual Halloween party.

  “I’ve gotta go backstage and get ready,” Angela said, as they walked into the old theater. “I don’t see Donovan. Are you good by yourself?”

  Valerie rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Angela. Look, there’s Lena.”

  Lena stood across the room, tall and glamorous in her equally skimpy lingerie. She suddenly felt frumpy and short.

  “Valerie,” Lena called.

  She smiled at her friend, still a newlywed and ecstatically happy.

  “You look amazing.”

  “Nah, I look okay. You, though. My God, I’m glad Michael’s on shift. I’d be a little worried.”

  The heat of a deep blush burned her cheeks.

  “Has Donovan seen you yet?”

  Her heart jumped into her throat. “He’s here?”

  Lena nodded and grabbed her hand, dragging them to the bar. She ordered two cosmopolitans and a shot of tequila for both of them.

  “Drink first, then we’ll go in.”

  The alcohol burned her throat and settled in her belly, warm and freeing.

  “Okay, ready to break some hearts?” Lena arched a mischievous brow.

  “Not really.”

  “Too bad. It’s inevitable when you look like that, girl.”

  As they passed through the doors, she scanned the room in search of Donovan. Her heart stopped when she saw him. All the hurt resurfaced, all of her work to move on was undone in one moment. His devastatingly handsome face made her knees wobble and her breath hitch. He hadn’t seen her yet. In fact, he looked downright uncomfortable. She laughed to herself at the idea of him being anything less than self-assured.

  “Saw him?” Lena muttered.

  Valerie downed her cosmopolitan in one long drink. “I’ll be back.”

  “Famous last words,” Lena called, laughing as she stalked toward Donovan.

  The phrase sticks-out-like-a-sor
e-thumb never really made sense to Donovan, until now. Everywhere he looked, there were women and men dressed in lingerie. He’d never be able to look at some of his gym buddies again, now that he’d seen them in fishnets and platforms. He quickly realized that the Rocky Horror Picture Show really wasn’t his thing. Sure, he’d heard of it, but the idea behind it had never seemed appealing. Yet here he stood, amongst the scantily clad French maids, waiting for his friend’s band to play songs he didn’t know.

  He saw from the other side of the room. Valerie. Her beautiful face was hidden behind layers of makeup, but she was still staggeringly gorgeous. His eyes scanned her body, taking in the fishnets, lingerie, and breasts offered up like delicious appetizers. She was every man’s wet dream and he could see it on their faces. They were all thinking the same thing and it had him seeing red.

  Her eyes found him across the crowd. The hurt that passed over her face nearly broke him as she continued to walk toward him. She closed the distance quickly, her breasts bouncing enticingly.

  “Donovan.” Her voice was clipped and laced with anger.

  “Valerie.”

  She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him with an eyeful of her amazing ass. God, he’d been such an idiot. He crossed his arms over his chest, working hard to control himself, to keep from chasing after her. He was sorting out the jumbled mess of his family in therapy, but the last thing she needed was to be dragged into his family circus.

  “Hey, Donovan. I didn’t know you were a Rocky Horror fan.” A naked arm snaked around his chest from behind.

  He turned to see a woman in a French maid costume, her eyes dark with desire. She seemed familiar, probably someone he’d once taken home from the bar, but he couldn’t quite place her.

  “Looks like she’s moving on. Are you ready to?”

  His stomach turned as he followed the maid’s gaze and saw Valerie, a bright smile on her achingly beautiful lips, as she threw herself into Blake Monroe’s arms.

  “No.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “No fucking way.”

  The maid shut her mouth and turned to find someone else who might show interest while he pushed his way through the crowd. Before he got halfway through the theater, the lights went down and the audience began chanting, “Lips, lips, lips . . .” Angela stood on the stage, a spotlight trained on her, causing her to sparkle in her ridiculous costume.

  A pair of bright red lips appeared on the movie screen behind her and the band started playing. He turned back to search for his Valerie and his heart sank as the space where she’d been standing was now occupied by strange faces. Where the hell had she gone? The music was loud, the audience was shouting, his head spun as he searched the crowd frantically for her. She couldn’t be with that douche.

  He pushed past the crowd and jumped at the sudden assault of rice raining down on him.

  “What the fuck?” he asked no one in particular.

  Searching the crowd, he noticed everyone around him was armed with rice and were pelting each other. He shook his head and shoved through the mass of people in search of the exit. He had to get out of this place.

  As he pushed the door open, she was there, appearing again as a vision sent to torture him. She was laughing with a drink in her hand. Blake stood to one side of her, his hand on the small of her back, caressing her, touching the exposed skin between the laces of her corset. Jealousy reared its head and his chest ached with a deep pain as he watched.

  He should have left then, gotten away from the sight of her clad in underwear and fishnets for all the world to see. He wanted to cover her in a coat and shield her from the eyes surrounding them and, more than anything, he wanted to get her safely free of Blake Monroe’s wandering hands.

  “Can I talk to you, sweetheart?” He worked to keep the acid from his voice.

  “I don’t think so, Donovan.” Blake, the douchebag, attempted to move between them.

  “Back off, Monroe. This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Yes, it most certainly does. You had your chance. She’s mine now.”

  His blood ran cold. He looked at Valerie, sure the broken expression on his face registered. “Really, sweetheart?”

  She lifted her chin, a defiant gesture he’d come to love.

  “You don’t get to call me sweetheart anymore, Donovan.”

  His heart broke at the truth in her words. He’d been the one to push her away, to choose to live without her. He grabbed her hand, trying desperately to ignore the rush of feeling running through him, and pulled her outside into the alley.

  “What are you doing? I’m missing the show.”

  “What are you doing? Blake? He doesn’t even respect you enough to be concerned that you’re walking around in your underwear.”

  “Jealous?”

  She was pressed against the brick of the theater, her eyes blazing with anger and irritation.

  “Yes.” He couldn’t deny the truth.

  “You’re the one who left, Donovan. Not me. You don’t get a say in who I’m with.”

  She shivered against the brick wall as she spoke, causing him to instinctively reach for her. Before she could protest, he had her wrapped in his arms. She felt so perfect nestled against his chest. He inhaled the scent of her hair, wishing he could bottle it up and save it for the nightmarish days ahead.

  “Looks to me like you’re with me right now.” He dipped his head to hers and claimed her mouth, fire burning in his veins. She didn’t fight him. Instead, her hands tangled in his hair and she pulled him to her harder. A soft moan escaped her lips, urging him on.

  “God, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.”

  “Shut up, Donovan.” She practically growled at him as she bit his lip and wrapped her legs around his hips.

  He was painfully hard with wanting and every movement of her hips sent pleasure rocketing through him. She reached down and unbuckled his belt with one hand.

  “Here?”

  She sighed. “Just fuck me, Donovan.”

  They were bathed in darkness, not a sound around them, with the exception of their impassioned breathing. He unzipped his fly and pulled aside her panties, plunging into her in one strong thrust. The sound of her cry almost sent him over the edge then and there. She felt so good around him. Her lips took his and she began swirling her hips, making little keening noises as they moved together. Almost as soon as they’d begun, she was pulsing around him, moaning into his mouth, and he followed right after. The intense pleasure buckled his knees.

  She laid her forehead on his shoulder as she took deep, shuddering breaths.

  What did this mean? He couldn’t stay away from her, that much was clear. He’d just have to work through it, make himself into the kind of man she deserved. He needed her. As the pleasure faded, he became aware of a wetness on his shoulder and the continued shuddering of her body against his. He pulled away and set her on her feet. Her face was tear-stained, eyes blazing in anger and defiance. With a quick adjustment of her costume, she stalked away from him.

  “Valerie?”

  “Don’t fucking follow me, Donovan.”

  He watched her walk away, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.

  Chapter 33

  Ten days after Valerie had used him for hate-sex, Donovan stood in his apartment, packing his largest duffel bag. Dr. Zeman had suggested he get away for a while, do something he loved, something that brought him back to himself. For him, sailing around Chesapeake Bay was that something. It would give him a chance to clear his head and stay away from Valerie. The anger in her eyes still haunted him and brought a tightness to his chest.

  Klipper threw open the front door, grinning like an idiot.

  “I’m ready to move into my bachelor pad.”

  Donovan rolled his eyes. “Klip, I’m not going to be g
one that long.”

  “You said a month.”

  “I said maybe, maybe a month.”

  “I’m planning on a month. I’ve already got a poker game scheduled and a date for tomorrow night. Don’t worry, I’ll change the sheets.”

  He cringed at the thought of Klipper fucking some chick from the bar on Valerie’s bed. He shoved his toiletries into his duffel bag and zipped it closed. Hefting it onto his shoulder, he headed for the door.

  “Just don’t burn the place down, okay?”

  Klipper offered a one-finger salute and plopped down onto the couch with the remote in his hand, already at home.

  He sighed as he hauled the duffel out to his jeep. According to Angela, Valerie was still with that ass-hat, Blake. His heart lurched at the memory of their passion-filled moment in the theater alley just minutes after Blake had staked his claim on her. He turned the key in his ignition and drove to the marina, ready to get away from everything that reminded him of Valerie.

  The Sweet Susan was packed full of supplies to sustain him for a month. As he stepped on board, he heaved a sigh of relief. His guitar sat in the corner and he had enough songwriting material to last him a lifetime at this point. Dr. Zeman had encouraged him to express himself somehow. She pointed out how withholding can be damaging, not only to himself, but other relationships.

  He had his route all planned: Williamsburg first, then some stops in Delaware, and all the way up to Baltimore before heading back down. He planned to meet up with Colin, the youngest of his older brothers, in Annapolis where he would spend a few days. Now that their dad was behind bars awaiting sentencing, their relationship held less strain.

  “Permission to come aboard?” A soft female voice called from above.

  He tensed and raced to the deck. “Valerie?” He couldn’t keep the hope from his voice.