Fall: A Seaside Novel (The Seaside Series) Page 14

  More sniffling followed. “Alright, sir. I’ll keep an eye on her until you return. I’ll sport my best smile, but know that I don’t agree. Not one bit. Nothing wrong with asking for help. Yes, well you have a good evening as well.”

  When I was sure the conversation was over, I rounded the corner and walked into the brightly-lit office.

  “Oh, hello.” The lady smiled, wiping stray tears from underneath her eyes. “Sorry, allergies. How can I help you?”

  I gave her a kind smile and approached her desk. “This was in one of the donation boxes, I wasn’t sure if it was Pris’s or if someone was donating money to the church, so I thought I’d drop it off.” I slid the twenty-dollar bill across the desk.

  “Oh, my! Thank you, dear. We’ll just put it in the offering for this week.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was stressed about the phone call.

  I took a seat.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Was there something else?”

  “How bad is it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “The damage to their house,” I interrupted. “How bad?”

  She still didn’t answer. I looked at her nameplate and smiled. “Stella, you can tell me.”

  “Bad,” she blurted. “The poor pastor can’t afford to fix it, especially not after flying to the Philippines for mission work and Pris is talking nonsense about using her college fund. And the house is not even livable! They can’t live in a house with smoke damage! Why the entire basement is destroyed, never mind the electrical! They need to re-wire the entire house!” She burst into tears again, then apologized as she blew her nose into a tissue.

  “No insurance?”

  “They have flood insurance.” She sniffled. “Not fire insurance.”

  “Damn Seaside,” I muttered.

  She glared.

  “Sorry, er, it slipped.”

  “I don’t know how they’ll manage, though they always do. Well, Seaside is a good community. Our only hope is that people help out, but with the economy the way it is…” She shook her head. “That girl deserves to go to college. She’s worked so hard.”

  “She will,” I vowed. “I promise.”

  I stood and held out my hand. “This stays between us?”

  Stella eyed my hand then shook it. “Of course, young man.”

  “Good.” I smiled. “Thank you, love.”

  I could have sworn she melted into her chair as she gave me a giggling wave.

  Storming out of the room, I pulled out my cell and dialed Peter’s number.

  He answered on the third ring.

  “What?”

  “I need help.”

  “Shit. Are you in trouble?”

  “I’m in Seaside, what the hell kind of trouble do you think I could get into? Humping a whale?”

  “Jaymeson, I don’t have time for this. I—“

  “Look, I just need one of your assistants to look up the best electrician in Seaside, a good carpenter, and homeowner’s insurance that covers everything.”

  “Are you buying a house?” His voice was stunned.

  “No.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m saving one.”

  I hung up and got into my car. Pris didn’t have to know it was me — nobody did — to them it would be the community. I knew how much she hated charity, but this way she could go to school. And at least when I left Seaside, I’d be leaving a part of myself behind.

  Not that that wasn’t my reality already. Because I was pretty sure Pris already owned a piece of my black heart, and damn if I wanted to take it back.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Priscilla

  Smith was late.

  Which meant I was pacing in the condo, wearing clothes I wasn’t totally sure looked good.

  Fashion hadn’t always been my thing. I mean, I dressed fine, but Alyssa’s style was a bit louder than mine.

  With a huff, I pulled out my phone and clicked on the conversation that had been going on between me and Jamie all day.

  Me: Can you tell me if I look okay?

  I attached a selfie and waited.

  Jamie Hudson: Go change.

  Me: That bad?

  Jamie Hudson: No. That good. I don’t want him ripping your clothes off like some bad sex scene in a movie. Don’t you own a sweater?

  Me: They aren’t my clothes. They’re my cousin Alyssa’s. She has a different style than I do.

  Jamie Hudson: Hmm, put us on video chat.

  I panicked. I mean, we’d never chatted before. I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.

  Jamie Hudson: Stop over analyzing, I want you to take me into your closet.

  Me: This feels weird.

  Jamie Hudson: Video chat. Now.

  I turned on the video chat but couldn’t really see him, the room was dark, he was wearing a baseball cap, a hoody, and nerdy glasses that made him look like a teenager.

  “Okay,” I said out loud, feeling like an idiot. “Can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear.” He chuckled, his voice was smooth, really clear, almost too perfect, like he was taking special care with each word.

  “So here’s the closet.”

  “Does she own a mall?” He laughed. “Okay, take me to the right.”

  Giggling, I faced the phone to the right where her sweaters were located. “I vote the loose necked striped hoody with leggings, boots, warm socks, and a hat.”

  “So you want me to be completely covered from head to toe?”

  “That’s the idea,” he said. “What? Did you want my help or not?”

  “Yes,” I grumbled, reaching for the clothes.

  “Okay.” He drew out the ay. “Now set me down, go change and show me again.”

  Rolling my eyes, I set the phone down. “Give me a few minutes.”

  I ran into the bathroom, quickly changed, and rolled my eyes knowing that he was right about the outfit. The one I’d had one earlier was a low cut tank top with skinny jeans.

  Picking up the phone, I faced it toward me and did a one-up of my outfit. “This better?”

  “Hmm, I don’t know, I may have to look again.”

  Laughing, I pointed at the phone. “No more! It would be improper.”

  “Bummer.” He sighed. “You look hot, but not too hot.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “I believe so.” He sounded surprised. “At any rate, if he touches you, I’m flying up there and cutting off his hand.”

  “We’re kind of dating, isn’t that the point?”

  “No.” I could see his head shake. “Not the point. The point is to get to know someone without sticking your tongue down their throat.”

  “That would suffocate me.”

  “My point exactly.” He pointed at the phone. “Don’t let him suffocate you!”

  The doorbell rang.

  “Oops! That’s him, gotta go!”

  “Let me know when you get home!”

  “Okay! Night!’

  “Night, love.”

  I hesitated over the End button then pressed it. Every time he called me love my stomach flipped over like a pancake.

  Grabbing my purse, I ran to the door and opened it.

  Smith was leaning against the frame, his muscular body putting off so much heat I could feel him even though I wasn’t touching him.

  “You look perfect.” He eyed me up and down. “Ready to roast?”

  “Always.”

  He offered his arm as we walked to the car. I looked back at the condo then at Jaymeson’s house. A figure stood silhouetted in the window. He still wore his baseball cap — must have just arrived home.

  “You getting in the truck?” Smith asked.

  “Oh sorry.” I lifted myself into the truck and buckled my seatbelt. By the time I looked back at Jaymeson’s house the figure was gone, and I was left to wonder if it was all my imagination. Why would he care? Why should he?

  “I brought blankets,” Smith said as he started the truck. “Just in cas
e it gets cold. That way we can cuddle under the stars.”

  “Awesome.” My answer sounded forced.

  “I, for one, am hoping for snow.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because then I can trap you under that damn blanket all night long.”

  I shivered.

  But not because my body was responding to him. Because my mind immediately went to Jaymeson and lying with him in bed.

  “Me too.” I reached across the console and grabbed his hand. “Thanks for taking me out.”

  “I’d take you anywhere,” Smith whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jaymeson

  I’d nearly had a stroke when I saw her original outfit. What the hell was she thinking? She might as well have been naked; her boobs had practically begged to be touched.

  Damn, I’d even wanted to reach through that freaking phone and caress every part of her tan skin.

  I’d almost lost it.

  But at least she asked my opinion, or that of Jamie Hudson. The American accent wasn’t hard to do — I’d been acting since I was three. But for some reason talking to her, using a different voice, hiding my identity… it felt wrong.

  I knew I needed to tell her sooner rather than later.

  Then again, when I left, she would probably hate me. I needed that line of communication with her.

  It was like my drug.

  For the next few hours I kept myself busy answering e-mails. It seemed Peter’s assistants had found some great contractors to work on the house. They could have everything done by the time Pris’s family returned from their trip.

  I e-mailed every last one of them and offered them double to get it done faster.

  They were going to be at the house at seven a.m.

  Satisfied that I’d at least helped as much as I could, I went to grab a beer from the fridge and glanced at the clock.

  Midnight? What the hell were they doing? That was a five-hour date! Unfortunately, my mind started conjuring up all the different things they could accomplish in five hours.

  By the time my damn brain was finished, I had Pris pregnant and hooked on meth.

  Shit.

  I must have fallen asleep on the couch because later when I looked at the clock it was three a.m.

  Like a complete idiot, I messaged her on Facebook.

  Me: You back from your date yet?

  Priscilla S: Yeah, I got back a while ago.

  Me: A while?

  Yes I wanted the exact time, because clearly I liked torturing myself with images of them together.

  Priscilla S: One.

  Me: Whoa, you had a bonfire that long?

  Priscilla S: No, we stayed at the bonfire for about two hours then went back to his place.

  Shaking with rage, I struggled to type a response.

  Me: To do what? Make cookies?

  Priscilla S: No, we watched a movie.

  Me: And when you say watch you mean… had sex?

  Holy crap! Why the hell was she hesitating? She either did or didn’t!

  Priscilla S: You have an active imagination. No, no sex, just movie watching, and a bit of kissing.

  I sighed and nearly collapsed out of my chair.

  Me: Define a bit.

  Priscilla S: Jamie! It’s late! I’m tired and starving. I was too upset to eat dinner.

  Me: Why were you upset?

  Priscilla S: I don’t want to talk about it.

  Me: Jaymeson?

  Priscilla S: He kissed me.

  Me: Wait, I thought you were dating this other guy?

  Priscilla S: It was an accident. Jaymeson seems to enjoy that. Accidently kissing me, accidently breaking my heart without realizing it, then accidently pushing me into the arms of available men, it’s his thing.

  I scratched my chin and frowned at the screen. Well, when she put it that way I sounded like an asshole.

  Me: I’m sorry.

  Surely the messages were taking a while to deliver, right? I mean, that’s why she was answering so slow! I fought the urge to bang my head against the wall as I waited.

  Priscilla S: It’s okay. It’s probably for the best. I mean, come on. He’s, Jaymeson… I’m just me. I’m kind of like the shiny new toy he can’t get to work just right so he keeps playing with it. Sooner or later he’d get bored, and sooner or later I’d get put back in the toy box, never to be touched again. It’s better this way.

  I swore violently, almost throwing my phone against the wall. That’s what she thought of herself? A freaking toy? A distraction? Hell, no!

  Me: I doubt he feels that way. He’s probably just protecting you.

  Priscilla S: Funny, because I don’t remember asking for protection.

  Me: You’re young…

  Priscilla S: Not you too.

  Panicking, I tried to make it better.

  Me: Hey, guys stick together! But you’re my friend — I’m on your side.

  Priscilla S: ?

  Me: He’s a jackass.

  Priscilla S: J Thanks for your help today btw.

  Me: Anytime you want me to dress or undress you — just name the place.

  Priscilla S: Very funny.

  Me: I’m a funny guy.

  I was grinning at my phone like a complete lunatic. Gripping it in my hand so hard that I’m surprised it didn’t crush under the pressure.

  Me: Get some sleep, love.

  Priscilla S: ‘K. Night.

  Me: Night.

  I chewed my lower lip in thought. It was the first night Pris and I hadn’t actually spent the evening together. Damn, I needed a key to that place.

  Brilliance struck

  I quickly dialed Demetri’s number.

  He didn’t answer.

  I dialed again.

  Finally, he answered and swore into the phone. “I swear I’m crushing your balls with a shovel. What the hell, Jay?”

  “Where’s your spare key?”

  “What?”

  “For your condo?”

  “Why do you need a spare key? Just knock, you ass.”

  “I think I smell smoke,” I lied.

  “What!” He shrieked. “Under the pig, it’s under the pig.”

  “Thanks.” I hung up and ran outside then up the stairs to the condo. Pig, pig, pig. I searched high and low then saw next to one of the planters an ugly demon pig that looked somewhat possessed.

  It was missing an eye.

  Good thinking, Demetri, nobody would think a rock star lived here.

  I picked up the dirty ceramic pig. The key shone underneath. I let out a sigh of relief that Pris was smart enough to keep the key under the pig rather than risk losing it by throwing it into her gigantic purse.

  “Brilliant.” I quickly unlocked the door and put the key back under the pig, patting its head and muttering a thanks like an inanimate object had actually helped me break into my friend’s house.

  Great, so I’d lied and forced entry, just add it to my list of laws I was already breaking.

  I gently pushed the door shut and froze. What the hell was I doing? I couldn’t just crawl into bed with her — she’d think I was an intruder. And if she was sleeping I didn’t want to wake her up! I really should have thought things through better.

  With a groan, I turned to leave, then saw a light flicker on.

  Curious, I followed the light into the bedroom.

  Another light turned on.

  And then Priscilla walked out of the bathroom.

  In nothing but the shortest towel I’d ever had the pleasure of seeing on another human being.

  “Aghhhh!” She screamed. Her towel dropped.

  My jaw followed.

  “Get out!” She wailed throwing a pillow at my face.

  Yeah, I let that bastard hit me. It was worth it. I took in my fill then slowly, with a cocky grin, turned my head.

  “What are you doing?” I heard foot stomping.

  “Making sure you made it home safe,” I said smoothly. “Alone.”
<
br />   “You’re not my babysitter!” Pris huffed, opening one of the dresser drawers and rummaging through.

  “I’d choose the lace ones, more feminine,” I said in a helpful voice.

  Eyes narrowing, she snatched the black lace, with a matching bra. My mouth went completely dry because now I could actually imagine her naked body in that getup. Of course it helped that when I looked to the right I caught a glimpse of her golden skin through the mirror in the bedroom.

  Painful. My mind was too creative by half.

  Wet hair pulled back into a ponytail, Pris marched back into the bedroom wearing short shorts and a tank top and crossed her arms. “You can leave now.”

  “Actually…” Damn, she smelled good. “I can’t.”

  “Why?” Her mouth trembled. “You’re not exactly my favorite person right now.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “But I’m lonely.”

  “So you thought to break in? That’s your solution?” Her eyes were wild. I loved how they seemed to swallow me whole as they got larger and larger with frustration.

  “I’m British?” I offered.

  She closed her eyes. “I can’t win.”

  “Good that you know that. I mean, why try when you know you’re going to lose? Can I have the left side, tonight?”

  She hung her head and pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Sure, just don’t suffocate me like last time. I woke up with your pillow pressed against my face.”

  “Would you rather it be something else?”

  “I won’t hesitate to lock you in the bathroom and play that scary movie by the door, Jaymeson.”

  “No suffocating, left side, got it.” I quickly pulled off my shirt and pants, leaving only my black boxers on, and climbed into bed.

  Pris, yawned and turned off the lights, then climbed in next to me.

  “You’re going to have to find another bed partner, Jaymeson.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m dating Smith and I doubt he’d like the fact that you and I sleep in the same bed every night.”

  “He doesn’t have to know.” My voice taking a defensive edge. “It doesn’t involve him.”

  “But it does.” Pris’s voice caught. “It does now. I want to make things work. I have to make things work.”

  A hint of desperation plagued her voice. Nodding, I kissed her head and whispered against her hair. “I’m not ready to let you go yet.”