Dex pushed his chair back and picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He carried me up the stairs to his bedroom, kissing me gently on the lips, cheek, and neck. I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his dark hair, pulling him close to me, feeling safe and secure and cared for. I realized as we climbed the stairs that I was falling in love with Dex Hartley and it filled me with a surge of happiness. I kissed him urgently on the lips, savoring his coffee and bacon taste, wanting to feel the connection between us, the electric energy that passed between us when we touched. Dex kissed me back as he set me down on the edge of his bed. He pulled back and looked at me with a question in his eyes.

  “What?” I asked him, sensing his reluctance.

  Dex looked at me his eyes full of concern and passion and the same time, saying, “I don’t want to push you into anything if you’re still shaken from Saturday night.”

  I smiled. “You’re not pushing me. Dex, I want you, right here, right now. I’m not going to let one bad person change me or our relationship. A random abusive stranger doesn’t have control over me, I do.” I kissed him, a long full kiss, savoring his lips, his taste, his smell.

  Dex kissed me back and I moved backward as he climbed up to meet me in the middle of his expansive bed. I pulled his t-shirt over his head and ran my fingers across his warm, bare skin. I felt the electric energy between us and I wanted nothing more than to connect with him, to feel every inch of him, our bodies pulsing together in undulating rhythm. He leaned over me and eased my tank top over my head, unhooking my bra as his mouth found my exposed collarbone. He kissed me lightly as he kneeled over me, running his fingers over my bare shoulder, feather light and soft. He cupped my breast in his hand, gently caressing it as he took my nipple in his mouth. I leaned back, arching into him, tossing my long hair behind me. I closed my eyes and reveled in the way my skin felt when Dex touched me, they way I felt alive and protected and cherished at the same time. He rolled my exposed nipple between his fingers and a moan escaped my lips as pleasure shot through me. I ran my hands down his chest, over his tight stomach to his lounge pants. I ran my fingers along the waist of his pants, feeling his stomach muscles quiver with desire. I edged my fingers inside the waist of his pants, finding his boxers and yanked both down, exposing his throbbing erection. I took him in my hands, gently caressing his pulsing desire, feeling him hard with need and anticipation. He let my nipple go and pushed his pants off completely as I kissed his naked chest.

  He groaned, pulling my flannel pants down and off my body. As I kissed his skin and caressed his hard cock, running my hands up and down with increasing pressure, he pulled my face toward his and kissed me hard on the mouth. His fingers found my panties and pulled them off in one fluid motion. Our lips parted and as he pulled away from me to find a condom, I looked at him, this amazing specimen of a man, and couldn’t believe I was there, sprawled out on his bed, waiting to feel him inside me. He pulled the condom on and came back to bed as I pulled him to me, my hands guiding his body toward me.

  Dex paused and kissed me, running his hand under my back and pulling me up to meet him. He turned us both over with his strength, so I was on top of him, my hands pressing into the bed on either side of his gorgeous face.

  “I want you to be in control of this Jo, completely in control,” he said, as he guided my body lower on top of him.

  He pulled me closer and I paused, momentarily insecure. I looked into his eyes and saw the naked desire and lust he felt for me and it pushed me forward. I reached for his pulsing erection and guided him inside me as I let myself come down, taking all of him until our bodies touched. As I began to move on top of him, rocking my hips forward and back, he closed his eyes and inhaled roughly, guiding my hips with his hands. I pressed harder into him, feeling the pressure and pleasure mounting in my body. I pushed harder and faster as I felt myself losing control, feeling the need to release. Dex dug his hands into my hips as I bucked on top of him, opening his eyes and locking them on my own. We stared at each other as our bodies hummed with pleasure until I felt a blinding surge and explosion of pent up desire, crying out in pleasure. As I cried out, riding Dex and riding the crest of my orgasm, he came, pumping up into my body and jerking to a slow stop beneath me. I crashed into him, feeling his sweat on my skin, feeling his heavy breathing slow and moderate. He ran his fingers through my hair and held me to him for a moment, savoring our connection. Then he rolled us both over and pulled away from me, sliding the condom off and walking into the bathroom.

  I laid there, in Dex’s bed, the morning sun peaking through a layer of clouds and filtering through the skylight, and laughed to myself at the sheer delight I felt. Feeling the rhythm of my body on top of Dex’s, making him come with the movements of my body, filled me with a satisfaction I couldn’t begin to describe. Dex came back to bed, sliding up next to me and pulling the sheets up to cover us both. He wrapped his body around mine, hugging my waist and pulling me to him. We fell asleep there together in the pale morning light, content and at peace.

  CHAPTER 13

  I dragged myself to work on Tuesday, reluctant to leave Hartley Manor and leave Dex. But he needed to attend to Hartley Industries and I needed to earn some money before I found myself unable to pay rent. Besides, I thought to myself, some time apart might be a good thing. I felt consumed by Dex, everything I did, everything I thought revolved around him. Getting some space and perspective couldn’t be bad. And I liked the rhythm of the Red Barn, its hustle and bustle in the morning, taking orders, filling empty coffee cups, smiling and chatting about innocent topics like why it rained all the time in Oregon and how the beach was so different up here in the Pacific Northwest compared to sunny Southern California.

  When my shift ended, I grabbed my things and headed up to Mable’s to relax by myself with a cup of coffee before picking up a few groceries in Jack’s down the street. As I waited in line, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Macy’s mom Diane behind me in line. Her dyed-blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail and her face was strangely make-up free. I realized I’d never seen her not done up, and noticed the wrinkles around the corners of her eyes and mouth for the first time. She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear, and the diamond rings covering her fingers sparkled under the coffee shop’s lights.

  “Oh, hi Mrs. Daugherty,” I said, smiling at her.

  “Hi Jo. You know I’ve said this before, but Jo you really can call me Diane, it’s okay,” she said, smiling.

  “I know,” I said, feeling uncomfortable and out of place, “it’s just a hard habit to break. So what brings you into Mable’s?” I said, trying to be friendly.

  “Oh,” she said casually, “I just finished yoga down the street and thought I’d take a break with a coffee before I have to go work on plans for the charity auction I’m hosting in the fall. How about you?”

  I smiled and replied, “I just thought I’d take a break too. I just finished work at the restaurant and need some groceries, but I thought enjoying a coffee would be a nice way to relax for a while.”

  Diane gave me a warm and smile and said, “well, how about I buy and we sit for a few minutes and chat?” Sensing my reluctance, she added, “that way I can try and pry all you know about Macy and William out of you for a few minutes. You know she never tells me anything.” Diane laughed a bit and gave me another smile. I knew she was trying to be friendly, but it seemed phony and artificial. I felt awkward and didn’t really have any interest in spilling Macy’s secrets to her mom, but at the same time I didn’t want to be rude. Diane had been nothing but nice to me since I became so close to Macy. And she did buy my dress for the social and I hadn’t thanked her yet. Giving her a few minutes of my time and answering some questions about Macy was only fair payment for her generosity.

  “Okay,” I said, finally.

  “Great!” said Diane, clasping her hands in front of her. She turned to the counter and ordered our coffee. We picked them up a few minutes later and found a small table by a window.

  Diane took a sip of coffee and opened her mouth to talk, but I jumped in first, hoping to steer the conversation to lightweight topics. “You know, I wanted to thank you for buying my dress for the Memorial Day social. I don’t think I’ve had the chance to really do that yet, and I didn’t want to forget. You didn’t have to buy my dress and I really appreciate it,” I said, taking a sip my coffee.

  “Oh, you’re welcome, and it really wasn’t a big deal,” Diane responded. “I wanted Macy to attend the social and I needed to find a way to accomplish that, and buying your dresses seemed to do the trick. It’s all about finding the right encouragement for Macy, what will motivate her.” Diane paused and sipped her coffee. I braced myself for her to launch into uncomfortable questions about Macy and William, but instead she kept talking about the social.

  “It seemed like you had a good time at the social, after what looked like quite a run-in with Dex Hartley, that is. Are you all right? It seemed like he was quite angry when he saw you there.” I looked at Diane. She seemed to be innocently curious, but I didn’t understand why she was asking about me and Dex and not Macy and William.

  “Let’s just say he finally figured out where he knew me from, and was mad I hadn’t said anything,” I said. “But we’re fine, he’s fine. If you can believe it, we’re actually dating.” I looked down and took a sip of my coffee. Saying out loud that Dex and I were dating to someone I hardly knew, even if she was my best friend’s mom, seemed almost daring. But it was true, and I needed to get used to saying it out loud.

  “Really? Well, congratulations I suppose then.” Diane took another sip of coffee and continued, “Macy had mentioned you might be interested in Colin, William’s brother, so I thought maybe you two were dating instead.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think he’s ever been interested in me that way.”

  Diane sat at the table quietly for a minute or two, sipping her coffee and looking out at the ocean. I watched her flip her sandal-covered foot up and down under the table and I wondered if she had second thoughts about prying into her daughter’s love life. Before I could excuse myself and leave, however, she started talking again.

  “So, Macy said that you grew up in Portland, right? Did you ever have family out here in Cannon Beach?” I looked at her again, confused as to why she kept asking about me. But I never really spent any time with Diane, and unless Macy had filled her in on her summer best friend, Diane probably knew nothing about me. If I was her, I would be curious too. Maybe she wanted to know if I made good friend material.

  “No,” I answered simply, “my mom and I lived in Portland, and after she died, I lived at Overton, a girls’ orphanage in Portland, until I turned eighteen.”

  “So how did you end up out here?” Diane asked, taking another drink of her coffee.

  “I had visited once on vacation just before my mom died, and I loved it. I always connected Cannon Beach with happy memories of my mom and I thought it would be a great place to get a new start and leave Portland behind. So I moved out here about a year ago and have been here ever since.”

  “Wow,” Diane said, looking surprised, “I assumed you had some family here or some reason for making this your home. What about your father or you parents’ families? You have to have some family somewhere, right?”

  I frowned, irritated by Diane’s nosy questions. But I didn’t want to offend my best friend’s mother. I took a deep breath and answered as best I could, “I never knew my father, he died before I was born. And my mother never told me about any extended family. I assumed if I had any that the social worker would have found them when my mom died, and I wouldn’t have grown up in an orphanage. So, no I don’t have any family anywhere, to the best of my knowledge.”

  I looked at Diane and saw her giving me an appraising stare, like she was looking at me and comparing me to something or someone else. I remembered her giving me the same once over at the social, right before Dex walked in and blew up in my face. Her look put me on edge and had me rethinking the entire conversation. Maybe this entire thing was a set up to ask questions about me and my past. As we sat there, looking at each other, I got more and more irritated over her inquisitive look and nosy questions until finally I blurted out, “What? Why are you looking at me like that? You had that same expression on your face when you saw me the night of the social. So did some other women who were there. What is it?” I said, exasperated.

  Diane pressed her lips together into a firm line. She looked at me as if she was trying to decide which way to go with her answer. Finally she asked, “You really don’t have any connection to Cannon Beach?”

  I lost it then, and raised my voice, causing a nearby tourist couple to give me a sharp glance. “Seriously, Diane, what is this about? I deserve more than just secretive questions and stares.”

  Diane closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose with her fingers, then she opened her eyes and stood up. “I’m sorry, Jo. It’s really none of my business. I shouldn’t have been prying into your life. Give my best to Dex if you see him.” And with that she threw her empty coffee cup in the trash and walked out of Mable’s.

  I sat there at Mable’s, staring at the swinging door, confused and angry. Why did Diane pepper me with all those questions about my past and my family, and why did she refuse to answer me when I confronted her about it? I absentmindedly pulled the cardboard coffee jacket off my cup and pulled apart the corrugated ridges, making a heap of tattered cardboard on the table.

  It didn’t make any sense. Why would Diane keep asking me if I had a connection to Cannon Beach? And why wouldn’t she tell me what she knew? I swept the cardboard bits and pieces into my palm, threw them away, and walked over to Jack’s to pick up some groceries and clear my head.

  As I walked through the aisles, picking up bread, milk, and eggs, my head spun with thoughts about Diane, her questions, and her reaction to seeing me at the social. I checked out and carried my small grocery bag home, determined to figure out exactly what was going on and why my past seemed so interesting to people who hardly knew me.

  After I put my groceries away, I went into my bedroom and pulled a shallow box out from under my bed. I opened it and rifled through the various papers until I found my birth certificate.

  “Josephine Anne Sinclair, born December 8, 1990, in Portland, Oregon. Mother, Rebecca Anne Sinclair, from Portland, Oregon. Father, Jacob Cunningham, from Portland, Oregon.” I read out loud. No mention of Cannon Beach, no connection whatsoever. I looked it over, and found nothing unusual. I pulled out the next paper, my mother’s death certificate. “Rebecca Anne Sinclair, born January 29, 1970, died April 5, 2003, cause of death, multiple traumatic injuries due to vehicular crash.”

  I sighed. Neither piece of paper told me anything I didn’t already know. I pulled out a small handful of photographs, the only visual reminders of my mother I still had. There were pictures of her holding me as an infant, us together at the park, and several of us together on Cannon Beach the week before she died that we’d taken with a cheap disposable camera. I looked at her, my mother, and wondered if there was something she didn’t tell me, something Diane knew or at least suspected. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Diane knew a lot more than her questions hinted at, and that if she would only be honest and talk to me, I might learn more about my past and where I came from. I put the papers and photos back in their box and shoved them under the bed. I sat there in my bedroom, lost in thought, until I heard a knocking at my door.

  I pulled myself together and walked out into the kitchen. I opened the door and found Dex standing there. He gave me a huge smile and wrapped me up in his arms, picking me up off my feet. He twirled me around and set me back down.

  “Well, hello to you too!” I said, giving him a kiss. He kissed me back and leaned back to look at me.

  “What is it? You’re knitting your eyebrows together like something’s wrong,” he said.

  I laughed. “Are my feelings and thoughts that obvious? It’s nothing really. I just had a really weird conversation with Macy’s mom and I can’t for the life of me figure out what her problem is.”

  “Macy’s mom?” Dex asked, “I didn’t think the two of you were particularly close.”

  “We aren’t,” I answered. “That’s what’s so weird about it. We ran into each other this afternoon in Mable’s, and she bought me a coffee, claiming she wanted to ask me about Macy and William. But when we sat down, she started asking me about me, and my childhood, and whether I had any family, and where I was from.”

  “Really?” Dex asked.

  “Really,” I said, as I walked over to the kitchen table and sat down.

  “What else did she say?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I answered, trying to remember. “She asked about whether I had any family anywhere, and why I came to Cannon Beach.” I paused, trying to remember all the details, “And then, when I asked her what she was getting at, and basically what her problem was, she asked me again if I had any connection to Cannon Beach whatsoever. And when I pressed her on it, she just got up and walked away. Like I said, the whole conversation was weird.” I looked up at Dex. He stood there, looking out my window, frowning.

  “What? Now you look like she did when we were talking. Is there something that I don’t know?” I asked, standing up and walking over to him.

  Dex turned back to me and gave me a smile. “No, my lovely Jo. There’s nothing you don’t know. I’m sure Macy’s mom has some innocent explanation for her behavior. Maybe she just had a bad yoga session. Who knows.” Dex took my hands and pulled me to him. “Now, let’s stop talking about Macy’s mom and do something much, much more enjoyable.” He kissed me deeply on the lips and I soon forgot all about Diane and her unexplained questions.

 

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