Chapter Seven

The next day Emmie parked in front of the ice cream parlor and saw through the window a young woman making an ice cream shake for a customer. Locking up her car, she headed inside, waiting until the customer paid and left. Then she stepped up to the counter, and the employee smiled sweetly at her. She had an air of sadness around her that matched the sorrow radiating from her eyes.

“What can I get you?”

“Hi, are you the owner?”

“I am.”

Emmie pulled up a picture of Jacoby on her phone and held it up. “I was wondering if you recognized this man.”

Immediately, the smile left the woman’s face as she studied the photo. “Did he do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, he’s my brother.” The present tense she used hurt her heart. “Are you sure you don’t recognize him?”

The woman shook her head. “Is he missing?”

“He passed away,” Emmie said softly. The woman’s eyes widened and she quickly looked down. Something told Emmie this woman had, indeed, known Jacoby. “He left a notebook that talked about this town. About how wonderful it was.”

The woman cleared her throat. “Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Disappointment filled Emmie. “Can I leave you my number? Just in case you happen to remember something?”

“Uh, sure.”

The woman held out a pen. Smiling, Emmie grabbed it and a napkin, jotting down her cell.

“Thank you,” she said, holding it out. The woman slowly, or perhaps reluctantly, took it. “I’ve missed him, and I don’t understand why he’s gone. In his notebook, he detailed how much he loved your shop. How he’d come every day for your salted caramel ribbon. So, I thought maybe you’d remember him and it would bring me close to him again. Like he’s not impossibly far away. Anyway, thank you for your time. Have a nice day.”

Reluctantly, she left the ice cream parlor and only when she stepped outside did she realize she’d been crying. Wiping her cheeks, she headed to the sub shop down the street. Beyond any doubt, the woman knew her brother, but Emmie couldn’t figure out why she lied. She could only hope the woman called her.

She ordered lunch for her and Coleson, and then drove to his house. As she approached the front door, it opened and he waved her in. The interior was straight out of the sixties. Or seventies. Or whatever age crushed velvet had been a thing. Boxes were all over the place. The heavy scent of pine cleaner hung in the air.

“You can set the bag on the table,” he said. “What would you like to drink? I’ve got water, coffee, and beer.”

“I’ll take a beer.”

He opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles, twisting off the caps. Emmie took the one he offered and sipped. The bitter taste of hops made her grimace. Coleson smirked.

“Not a beer lover?”

She shrugged. “Not really, but I wanted some fortification.”

Coleson sat down and pulled out the sandwiches and chips, handing over hers. “Fortification from what?”

Emmie took a bite to think about her answer. What did she share? How much was too much in order conceal her real identity? Then again, what did she have to lose?

“After my brother died, I was the one who had to pack away his life. Choose what to keep and what to donate or get rid of.”

“That must have been hard.”

“I couldn’t trust my parents to hire someone instructed to toss everything.” She took another bite, chewed, then washed it down with another sip of beer. “I found this journal he’d kept. Page after page of his thoughts. Dreams. Fears. A large portion was about his time here in Anchorridge Cove.”

They ate for a few more minutes, and she was thankful he wasn’t pushing for more information. Giving her time to figure out how to articulate her emotions.

“I didn’t even know he had visited Maine,” she admitted. “He kept writing about the ice cream shop, which made me think he must have known someone there. I managed to talk to the owner but she said she didn’t remember him. I’m not sure I believe her … something in her tone, something on her face. She seemed off.”

“If it was a love affair, maybe she doesn’t feel comfortable sharing intimate details,” he suggested.

“Yeah. Maybe. I just … I miss my brother. So much.” Again, with the tears. She blinked until they were gone, wiping away a stray one sliding down her cheek. “I just want to connect with places and stuff he liked. Or loved. There’s a reason he wrote this in a journal, right? He spent a lot of time here, and I’m hoping to understand why.”

He reached out and picked up her hand, threading their fingers together. “I’m in the process of making the same decisions you faced. What to keep of Thomas. What to let go of. He might not have been my biological dad, but I considered him my family. And as sad as I am, I can’t imagine the heartbreak you must be feeling from the loss of your twin.”

The waterworks turned on from his words, and she couldn’t hold back the tears. He scooted his chair back and beckoned her, so she rose and walked to him. Coleson eased her down onto his lap, then tucked her chin in the crook of his neck while she cried.

“I’m so tired of crying,” she sniffed.

“It’s better to get it out than keep it in,” he murmured. “The pain turns to poison if you don’t purge it.”

“I’ve been so alone with this,” she admitted. “My parents offered no consolation as they played the grieving couple.”

He held her, rocking her in comfort. Eventually, the tide passed, leaving her drained. Surprisingly, she felt better. The grief was still there, but for the first time since Jacoby died, strength filled her. That was when she knew she was going to heal. That everything would be okay.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“My pleasure,” he replied. “Sometimes we just need a safe place to weather the storm. Once the dark clouds are gone, the sun eventually shines again.”

Emmie liked his metaphors. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed on his lap, with his arms wrapped around her and her head resting on his chest. Suddenly, the mood shifted. The air electrified. She pulled back to look at him.

“Are we done reminiscing?” she asked breathlessly.

A smile pulled up one side of his mouth. “I guess so.”

“Thank God,” she said, then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

Then he maneuvered her until their bodies were pressed together and then immediately deepened the kiss. Her hands rested on his chest and she could feel his heat burning through his shirt, his muscles ripping with every breath he took. As his tongue pushed into her mouth, dancing with her own, a voltaic current charged through her body. His tongue was bold and demanding as it swept into her mouth to twine with her own. For a long moment, her body melted into his, and she was about two seconds away from unbuckling his belt. Sanity tried to return when they broke for air, although her eyes rolled back in her head when he kissed his way over her cheek to her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and biting gently. The slight bite of pain only heightened the pleasure.

Suddenly, he gripped her around the waist and lifted her up, setting her down on the table. He swept everything to the side to give her room. The remainder of their lunch went flying. Beer toppled over. The unexpected move made her giggle. With a smile, he trailed his fingers down her neck and over the pulse beating wildly. Over her collarbone and chest, skimming past her breasts to reach her thighs.

“More?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I want to feel alive again.”

Slowly, he bunched the hem of her skirt until her thighs were exposed. Rough patches on his fingertips abrased over her milky-white skin, sending delicious little shocks across her nerve endings. He stared her in the eyes, and she knew he was watching to make sure she was still onboard with what he was doing. There was no way in hell she’d tell him to stop.

“Open for me,” he whispered.

She licked her suddenly dry lips and parted her legs as he commanded, giving him access. He brushed across her panties, the only thing separating him from her, and she sucked in a breath. Excitement made her heart pound and her pussy slick. Rubbing little circles over her sensitive nub, she couldn’t hold back the moan. Her hips jerked up, unable to stay still.

“Holy moly,” she breathed.

“Do you want more, Emmie?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, please.”

He dipped a finger under the silk barely covering her femininity. As she stared into his eyes, she undulated her hips, wanting more. Wanting to put out the hot need coursing through her body. Coleson jerked his hand from her panties and fell to his knees in front of her. He was so tall that the table level didn’t even factor. She panted as she watched him. Down he yanked her bit of lace and she lifted her hips so they were easier to remove. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder as he settled between her thighs.

Although she couldn’t see what he was doing, it didn’t matter. With his touch, she lay back, her body suddenly going limp with one swipe of his tongue. Oral sex was hit-or-miss, mostly miss because guys thought flicking a clit ninety miles an hour with their tongue was sexy. It wasn’t.

He obviously knew what he was doing when he found the spot that made stars explode behind her eyelids.

“Coleson!” she moaned. “Oh my God!”

For a spilt-second, he halted, but before she could say anything, he resumed the sweet torture. He didn’t let up and soon she lost control as her body shook with the approaching climax. She hovered for a second on the precipice before falling. The climax consumed every inch, exploding through what felt like every cell, causing her body to seize up before euphoria hit. Riding that high on a cloud until she drifted back down, panting, and unable to form words.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Coleson murmured as he withdrew.

He straightened her clothing then pulled her into his arms, hugging and holding her as the aftershocks rolled through her.

“You—”

“Shh. This isn’t about me.” He pressed his lips against her temple. She heard his ragged breath, proving he was just as affected as she. “I had a feeling it would be this powerful between us.”

“I’m … this…” Her wits were scattered. The few times she’d dated she’d never felt this breath-stealing attraction, and never had an orgasm so powerful.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” she finally admitted.

“Neither have I,” he said.

She peeked up at him. “I find that terribly hard to believe.”

“I can say the same to you.” He gave her a knowing look. “Attraction has many layers. I’m not saying there haven’t been other women, but never to this depth. Maybe once the summer is over, we can—”

She placed a finger over his mouth. “Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that,” she said. “Magic fades, and I don’t want us to make promises in the heat of the moment.”

He studied her face, searching, and slowly he nodded his agreement.

“For the summer?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied. “For the summer.”