It Happened One Summer Read online

  “Okay.” She lifted her head and nodded, laughed in a dazed way. “Yes. Okay.”

  “We love each other, Piper.” He turned and strode toward his room, grateful he already had the key in his hand, because he wouldn’t have been able to take his attention off her to search for it. “I won’t let anything or anybody fuck with that.”

  Jesus. She’d been . . . unlocked. Her eyes were soft and trusting and beautiful and, most important, confident. In him. In them. He’d done the right thing pushing, hard as it had been to see her scared. But it was all right now, thank God. Thank God.

  He slapped the room key over the sensor and kicked the door open, his sole mission in life to give this woman an orgasm. To see those softened blue eyes go blind and know his body was responsible. Would always be responsible for meeting her needs.

  “I need you so bad,” she sobbed, tugging at his collar, moving her hips in desperate little circles. “Oh my God, I’m aching.”

  “You know I’m going to handle it.” He bit the side of her neck, thrust his hips up roughly, and listened to her breath catch. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes. Yes.”

  Brendan set Piper on her feet and spun her around, then yanked her skirt up above her hips. “Maybe someday we’ll be able to wait long enough to get undressed at the same time,” he rasped, stripping her panties down to her ankles, before attacking his zipper with shaking hands. “But it’s not going to be today. Get both knees on the edge of the bed.”

  God, he loved Piper when she was a shameless flirt. When she was pissed. When she was being a tease or making him work his ass off. But he loved her most as she was now. Honest. Hiding nothing. Hot and needy and real. Clambering onto the very edge of the bed and tilting her hips, begging. “Please, Brendan. Will you, please, will you, please . . .”

  There was no way he couldn’t take a moment to admire the work of art that was Piper. The lithe lines of her parted thighs, the ass that made his life heaven and hell. He gripped the cheeks now and kneaded them, spreading the flesh so he could see what was waiting for him in between. “Ah, baby. I should always be the one saying ‘please,’” he said hoarsely, leaning down and stroking his tongue over the tight, gathered skin of her back entrance. She huffed his name, then moaned it hesitantly, hopefully, and yeah, he couldn’t stop himself from yanking her sexy backside closer, burying his mouth in the valley between and tonguing her roughly.

  “Oh wow,” she breathed, pushing back against him. “What are you—oh my God.”

  He brought his hand around her hip, trailing two fingers between her soft folds, and enjoyed the act of getting her pussy wet as hell by licking something else entirely. Enjoying her initial shyness and the way she eventually couldn’t help but slide her knees even wider on the bed, her hips undulating in time with the hungry strokes of his tongue. By the time he let his tongue travel down and around to her sex, her clit was so swollen; he batted the nub with his tongue a few times, rubbed the sensitive button with his thumb, and she broke apart, hiccupping into the comforter, her delicious wetness coating her inner thighs, his mouth.

  She was panting as he rose, dropped his chest down onto her back and pushed his cock inside of her still-contracting pussy. “Mine,” he gritted, the tightness of her cinching his balls up painfully, firing every ounce of his blood with possessiveness. “I’m taking what’s mine now.”

  A movement ahead of them on the bed reminded Brendan of the mirrored headboard, and he almost came, caught off guard by the erotic sight of her slack jaw and tits that bounced along with every pump of his hips. His body loomed behind her, damn near twice her size, his lips peeled back from his teeth like he might very well devour her whole. Who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t want to gather every part of this woman as close as possible? To consume her fire? Who wouldn’t die trying to earn her loyalty?

  “Christ, you’re so beautiful,” he groaned, falling on top of her, pinning her to the bed and bucking, filling her like she was filling his chest, his mind. All of him. Completing him just by breathing. He took her hair in a fist, using it to pull her head back, locking their gazes in the mirror. She gasped, jolted around his cock, her walls telling him she was as turned on by the movie they were starring in as he was. “Yeah, you like being admired and complimented, don’t you, Piper? No better compliment than how hard you make my cock, is there? How rough you make me give it to you? Can’t even get my goddamn jeans down.” Her breath hitched, and she started to squirm underneath him, her fingers clawing at the comforter as she gave a closed-mouth scream of his name. “Go on. Give me that second one, baby. Want to turn you fucking limp.”

  Her blue eyes went blind, and she moaned hoarsely, her hips twitching beneath him, spasms racking her pussy and plunging him over the edge. He rocked into her hot channel one more time, spearing deep, looking her in the eyes as he growled her name, letting loose the excruciating pressure between his legs, panting against the side of her head.

  “I love you,” she gasped, the words seeming to catch her off guard, alarm her, and Brendan wondered if it was possible for his heart to explode out of his chest. How was he going to survive her? Every time he thought his feelings for her had finally reached their apex, she proved him wrong, and his chest grew another size. How could he continue at this rate for the next fifty, sixty years?

  “Piper, I love you, too. I love you.” Still pressing her down into the bed, he left slow kisses on her temple, her shoulder, her neck, before finally rolling off her to one side, drawing her tight to the place she called the recharging station. And he’d laughed at that name, but when she found her place in his arms, her features relaxed and she sighed, as if being held by him truly made everything okay. Jesus Christ, that privilege humbled him.

  “I’ve never said it to anyone before,” she murmured, resting her head on his bicep. “It didn’t feel like I always thought it would.”

  He ran his hand down her hair. “How did you think it would feel?”

  She thought about it. “Getting it over with. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.”

  “And how did it feel instead?”

  “The reverse. Like putting a bandage on. Wrapping it tight.” She studied his chin a moment, then ticked her eyes up to his. “I think because I trust you. I completely trust you. That’s a huge part of love, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. I reckon it has to be.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “But I’m not an expert, baby. I’ve never loved like this.”

  It took a moment for her to speak. “I’ll never keep anything from you again.” Her exhale was rocky. “Oh wow. Big post-coital declarations happening here. But I mean it. No more keeping things to myself. Not even for the length of an elevator ride. I won’t make you fight to get into my head. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be constant work for you, Brendan. Not when you make it so easy to love you.”

  He crushed her against him, no other choice, unless he wanted to splinter apart from the sheer fucking emotion she produced inside of him. “Constant work, Piper? No. You misunderstand me.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her mouth. “When the reward is as perfect as you, as perfect as this, the work is a fucking honor.”

  Brendan rolled Piper onto her back as their kisses escalated, his cock growing stiff again in a matter of seconds, swelling painfully when she begged him to take off his shirt. He complied, somehow finding a way to kick off his jeans and boxers before stripping her clean of any clothing, too. Satisfied sounds burst from their mouths when their naked bodies finally twined together, skin on skin, not a single barrier in sight.

  Piper’s lips curved with humor beneath his. “So are we just not going to talk about the tongue thing?”

  Their laughter turned to sighs and eventually to moans, the bedsprings groaning beneath them. And it seemed like nothing could touch the perfection of them. Not after such hard-fought confessions. Not when they couldn’t seem to breathe without each other.

  But if Brendan had learned one thing as a captain, it was this: Just
when it seemed like the storm was beginning to break and daylight spread across the calm waters? That’s when the biggest wave hit.

  And forgetting that lesson could very well cost him everything.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The rest of their time in Seattle was a dream.

  Hannah and Fox met them in the hotel lobby at the designated time, loaded down with secondhand records. And while Piper still wanted Brendan to speak to Fox about Hannah being off-limits, her fears were temporarily put to rest by the genuine friendship that seemed to have sprouted between the two. One afternoon together and they were finishing each other’s sentences. They had inside jokes and everything. Not that it surprised Piper. Her sister was a goddess with a pure, romantic spirit, and it was about time people flocked to her.

  As long as certain appendages remained in their pants.

  At dinner, Brendan and Fox told them about life on the boat. Piper’s favorite story was about a crab claw getting fastened to Deke’s nipple, requiring Brendan to give him stitches. She made them tell it twice while she laughed herself into a wine-aided stupor. Halfway through the meal, Fox brought up last week’s storm, and Piper watched Brendan stiffen, his gaze flying to hers, gauging if she could handle it. She was surprised to find that while her nerves bubbled up ominously, she was able to calm them with a few deep breaths. Apparently Brendan was so happy about Piper encouraging Fox to finish the story, he pulled her over onto his lap, and that’s where she happily remained for the rest of the evening.

  They slept in their assigned rooms that night, although some naughty texts had been exchanged between herself and Brendan, and the next morning they piled into the truck to head back to Westport.

  With her hand clasped tightly in Brendan’s on the console and Hannah’s road-trip mix drifting from the speakers, Piper found herself . . . looking forward to going home. She’d called Abe this morning to let him know she would be late for their walk, followed by a quick call to Opal to arrange coffee later in the week.

  There were over a hundred text messages and countless emails on her phone from LA acquaintances, club owners, and Kirby, but she was ignoring them for now, not wanting anything to steal the lingering beauty of the Seattle trip.

  Apart from those increasingly urgent messages about September 7, Piper was delighted to have two texts from girls she’d met in Blow the Man Down. They wanted to meet up and help plan the Labor Day party. And how would she feel about a group makeup tutorial?

  Good. She felt . . . really good about it. With her growing number of friends and the grand opening on the horizon, Piper suddenly had a packed schedule.

  What if she could actually belong in Westport?

  Yes, Brendan made her feel like she already did. But he had his livelihood here. A community he’d known since birth. The last thing she wanted was to be dependent on him. If she stayed in Westport, she needed to make her own way. To be a person independent of their relationship, as well as a member of it. And for the first time, that didn’t seem like a far-fetched possibility.

  When they arrived in Westport, Brendan dropped Fox off at his apartment first, then completed the five-minute drive to Piper and Hannah’s. His expression could only be described as surly as he shoved the truck into park, visibly reluctant to say good-bye to her. She could relate. But there was no way she’d make it a habit to leave Hannah alone.

  Her sister leaned over the front seat now, chin propped on her hands. “All right, Brendan,” she said drily. “Piper was singing ‘Natural Woman’ at the top of her lungs in the shower this morning—”

  “Hannah!” Piper sputtered.

  “And since I like seeing her happy, I’m going to do you a solid.”

  Brendan turned his head slightly, his interest piqued. “What’s that?”

  “Okay. I’m assuming you have a guest room at your place,” Hannah said.

  Piper’s boyfriend grunted in the affirmative.

  “Well . . .” Hannah drew out. “I could come stay in it. That would alleviate Piper’s sister guilt and she could stay in the captain’s quarters.”

  “Go pack,” Brendan responded, no hesitation. “I’ll wait.”

  “Hold on. What?” Piper turned on the seat, splitting an incredulous look between these two crazy people she loved. “I’m not—we’re not—just going to move into your house, Brendan. That requires a-a . . . at the very least, a serious conversation.”

  “I’ll let you chat,” Hannah said merrily, hopping out of the truck.

  “Brendan . . .” Piper started.

  “Piper.” He reached over the console, brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. “You belong in my bed. There’s nothing to discuss.”

  She puffed a laugh. “How can you say that? I’ve never lived with anyone, but I’m pretty sure a significant portion of time is spent with no makeup and . . . laundry! Have you taken dirty clothes into consideration? Where will I put mine? I’ve managed to maintain a certain air of mystique—”

  “Mystique,” he repeated, lips twitching.

  “Yes, that’s right.” She batted away his touch. “What’s going to happen when there is no more . . . mystery left?”

  “I don’t want any mysteries when it comes to you. And we have to leave on a fishing trip on Saturday. Two nights away.” Just a few days from now. “I want every second I can get with you until I pull out of the harbor.”

  “Saturday.” This was news to her, although she’d known at some point he would be going back out on the water. Usually the turnaround was even tighter, but they’d taken a full week off after crab season. “Do you think you’ll be back for the grand opening on Labor Day?”

  “Damn right I will. I wouldn’t miss it.” He raised a casual eyebrow, as if he hadn’t just made her pulse thrum with undiluted joy. “Will separate laundry baskets sway you?”

  “Maybe.” She chewed her lip. “There would have to be a no-kissing-until-I’ve-brushed-my-teeth rule.”

  “Nah, fuck that.” His gaze dropped to the hem of her skirt. “I want to push right into sleepy Piper and make her legs shake first thing in the morning.”

  “Fine,” she blurted. “I’ll go pack, then.”

  His expression became a mixture of triumph and affection. “Good.”

  Frowning at her boyfriend, even though her heart was tap-dancing, she pushed open the door of the truck. Before she could close it behind her, she remembered her promise to meet Abe and walk him to the museum. “How about we come over around dinnertime?” she said to Brendan. “We’ll get groceries on the way. Maybe you can give me a cooking lesson.”

  “I’ll have my extinguisher handy.”

  “Har-har.” Was it normal for one’s face to actually ache from smiling? “I’ll see you tonight, Captain.”

  His silver-green eyes smoked with promise. “Tonight.”

  * * *

  Piper jogged to the hardware store and walked Abe to the maritime museum, chatting with him for a while before continuing her run to Opal’s house for coffee. Walking back to No Name, she tapped out replies to her new friends, Patty and Val, arranging a time to plan for Labor Day. She and Hannah would have to kick their productivity into hyperdrive to have the bar ready in time—they didn’t even have a new sign yet—but with some determination, they could do it.

  That evening, the sisters packed enough clothes for a couple of nights and walked to the market with their backpacks, buying ingredients identical to the ones Brendan dropped into her handcart that first morning in Westport.

  Butterfly wings swept her stomach when she knocked on his door, but the strokes turned languid and comforting the moment his extra-large frame appeared in the entrance . . . in gray sweatpants and a T-shirt.

  And o-kay. Just like that, the advantages of this living arrangement were already making themselves known.

  “Don’t look at my boyfriend’s dick print,” Piper whispered to Hannah as they followed him into the house, sending her sister into doubled-over laughter.

  Brendan
cocked—ha—an eyebrow at them over his shoulder, but continued on until they reached the guest bedroom, carrying the groceries they’d brought in one hand. The room he led them to was small and just off the kitchen, but it had a nice view of the garden and the bed looked infinitely more comfortable than the bunk back at No Name.

  “Thanks, this is perfect,” Hannah said, dropping her backpack on the floor. She turned in a circle to observe the rest of the room and sucked in a breath, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “What is . . . what is that?”

  Puzzled by her sister’s change in demeanor, Piper’s gaze traveled from Brendan’s sweatpants to the object that had elicited the reaction. There on the desk was a record player. Dusty and heavy-looking. “I remembered my parents gave me theirs before they moved,” Brendan said, crossing his arms, nodding at it. “Went and got it out of the basement.”

  “This is a vintage Pioneer,” Hannah breathed, running her finger along the glass top. She turned wide eyes on Brendan. “I can use it?”

  He nodded once. “That’s why I brought it up.” As if he hadn’t just made Hannah’s life, he jerked his chin at the closet. “Put whatever records I could find in there. Might be nothing.”

  “Anything will sound like something on this.” Hannah’s knees dipped, and she leapt up, doing an excited dance. “I don’t even care if you unearthed this specifically to drown out the sex noises. Thank you.”

  Brendan’s ears deepened slightly in color, and Piper somehow fell further in love with him. Doing something nice for her sister had earned her everlasting devotion. And when he said, in his gruff, reserved way, “No. Thanks for, uh . . . letting me have Piper here,” she almost fainted dead away. “I’ll take that.”

  He eased the backpack off Piper’s shoulders, kissed her forehead, and abruptly left the room. They observed his departure like seagulls watching a full slice of bread sailing through the air—and thanks to her harbor jogs, Piper knew what that looked like now. Reverent.