He sighs heavily but holds my gaze. “I know you did. I don’t know what I was thinking. You won’t hear it from me again.”
Shaking my head sadly, I bring a palm up and touch it to his cheek. “I know I won’t.”
He hears the tone of my voice. He understands what I mean. “You’re not going to see me again, are you?” he asks hesitantly.
“No,” I tell him as I continue to look in his eyes. “The line’s been crossed, and it can’t be undone for me.”
I wait for it.
I know it’s coming.
I’ve been here before.
Richard’s eyes turn frosty, the cut of rejection bringing out all of his defense mechanisms. The need to reclaim his manhood and the upper hand rises forth. “Fine. Whatever. You’re not the first or last piece of ass I’ll have.”
Ahh. There it is. Exactly what I knew was lurking under the surface.
What is always under the surface.
I give him a polite smile before turning toward the door. “Goodbye, Richard. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Curses follow me out. A few degrading remarks. It all bounces off me because I refuse to let it sink in. I’ve heard it before, and he’s no different. In fact, I’ll even accept I might deserve a little of it since I willingly engaged in some really fantastic sex with him that I could see definitely making him think it could lead to other things.
But it’s the God’s honest truth. I never led him on.
I don’t lead any of them on.
I tell them how it is right up front and just as is typical to any man, they have no problems accepting my conditions because hey… the sex is phenomenal.
Because, after all, men really are looking for one thing only.
I hastily exit the hotel, my high heels clacking on the pavement. The warm summer breeze floats over my exposed skin, and I breathe in deeply of the sea salt that permeates the air.
Damn, I love my home here in the Outer Banks.
I love my family. I love my friends.
Contrary to what most men would believe about me, I have tremendous capacity to love. It’s just something I would prefer to avoid outside of my friends and family.
I get in my Jeep, a present I bought myself last year after I made a killing off just one sale. Unfortunately for me, the real estate market is tight, and there aren’t many houses available on the island nowadays. In hindsight, it was probably a stupid idea to become a realtor, but shit… I didn’t know what else to do with my life. It didn’t help that my first sale was of a mega mansion to famed author, Gavin Cooke, because I just sort of assumed everything else would be that easy.
Wrong!
It’s freakin’ hard to make a living in real estate. And to make matters worse, Gavin ended up stealing my roommate, which has really put a ding in my budget.
Okay, well… he didn’t steal her. Just knocked her up and moved her in with him. And fine… they’re in love (gag) and they have a beautiful daughter now (nothing to gag about there—she’s adorable), but what about me? I’m floundering here and don’t know what to do. So poor right now that the only good meals I get are on the weekends when I might have a date.
It’s definitely time to step up and figure out what the hell to do with my life, because I can’t keep living this way. I wonder to myself if when I say that, I only mean as far as expenses go, but I think I might mean something else. That scene back there in the hotel with Richard is getting really old, and as much as I like to pretend that I always hold the upper hand in these situations, I know that, deep down, it still makes me feel like shit about myself.
Chapter 1
Casey
I love this bar.
Just like the song that gets played on the jukebox quite often. My older brother, Hunter, bought this property going on almost two years ago, refurbished the interior, and renamed it The Last Call. Since then, it’s become one of the hottest places on the Outer Banks to hang during the summer months.
It’s casual and laid back, just like the beach bum my brother is and always has been. The Markham family has salt water in our veins, having lived here forever. Me and my other brother, Brody—who is Hunter’s identical twin—are what I’d call frolickers. We like to sit on the beach and play in the ocean, but that’s the extent of our communion with the sun and surf. My dad, however, is a fisherman and Hunter was on a surfboard from the time he could practically walk, so both have a much more personal connection to the ocean. That doesn’t mean I love it less but just in a different, gentler way. So very different from Hunter, who respects the ocean and knows he can never control it, can only ride what it gives him. Dedication and natural talent led Hunter to a very successful professional surfing career, from which he retired to buy this bar.
Or rather… he actually retired from surfing to stay here on the islands so he could be with his one true love, Gabby Ward.
Who also happens to be my best friend since we were little bitty things.
It took a while to get used to the idea of Hunter and Gabby being together. At first, it just plain gave me the wiggins to see them showing open and sensual affection with each other. I mean… for God’s sake… we all grew up together.
But the concept of those two being a couple has grown on me. Hunter and Gabby are engaged, and she will one day be my real sister in addition to being my best friend.
“Can I get another beer, Casey?”
My head swivels to look at ol’ Roy Becham, sitting at the opposite end of the bar. He’s a fixture in here. I give him a quick smile and head down his way, grabbing a fresh and newly chilled pint glass from the cooler. “Sure thing.”