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“Don’t stop.”
“You’re hurt.”
“Nowhere it matters.”
That was all the invitation she needed. She bent, trailing kisses down my torso as she scooted lower and lower, dragging off my sweatpants. It was a novel thing, having her strip me first, torturing me with her mouth and hands until I was one step above feral.
Surging up, I rolled, pinning her beneath me. “Need you.” I needed to feel her around me. Needed to remind us both that we’d survived.
She wrestled out of her cami top and the little shorts she’d slept in until she was bare to my hungry gaze and ravenous mouth. Then it was my turn to drive her up, up, up, until she was chanting my name, begging for more.
We had just enough mutual sanity left to remember the condom. She ripped the packet open, rolled it on. Then I plunged into her, burying myself inside that sweet, hot body over and over, drinking in every gasp, every moan, and demanding more, until we both flashed over the edge together.
22
Caroline
Two days after the fire, I stood with Hoyt on the sidewalk in front of the tavern and stared. From the front, you almost couldn’t tell anything had happened, other than the lingering scent of smoke in the air and the caution tape that had been strung up to keep the curious away. Not that it stopped the Lookie Loos from hanging out at the perimeter. Plenty of them had stopped to gawk. More than one looked our way as we ducked beneath the tape and made our way around to the back.
The full reality of the devastation hit me like a physical blow as I took in what remained. The kitchen, once full of life and warmth, was now a gutted shell. Charred remains of what had once been counters and appliances were scattered amidst the debris. The stink of burnt wood and melted plastic hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of exactly what Hoyt had risked his life to pull me out of.
My heart sank as I stepped closer. The wall that had separated the kitchen from the bar and dining area was almost entirely gone, reduced to a few crumbling pieces of plaster and exposed beams. I could see straight through to where the bar once stood, now just a blackened, unrecognizable mess. The dining room, though not as badly damaged as the kitchen, bore the scars of the fire, too. Soot and ash covered everything, and the tables and chairs were upended, some reduced to charred fragments. The back side of the building housing the supply closet where I’d been trapped was straight up gone.
There was absolutely no question in my mind that if he hadn’t come after me, I would’ve died in there. The memory of the dark and the smoke and the heat made me shudder.
Hoyt wrapped an arm around me. “Okay?”
“Yeah.”
There was more activity back here. I spotted Ed, his face gray beneath his beard, his eyes devastated. This was his life’s work, reduced to ashes. How could I face him after this? And yet, I owed him that respect.
Bracing myself, I closed the distance. “Ed?”
Those lines of strain on his face eased a little when he spotted me. “Caroline.”
I swallowed against the knot in my throat. “I’m sorry.” The words slipped out, hardly louder than a whisper. My voice was still a rasp from smoke inhalation, but this struggle was more from grief and shame.
“Oh, honey, no. This isn’t your fault. I’m just so glad you’re all right.” He pulled me in for one of his gruff bear hugs, and I leaned into it, feeling unworthy of this good man’s absolution.
When he released me, I fought back emotion. “I don’t know what your plans are, but I’m there to help in whatever way I can.”
“I appreciate that, darlin’. We haven’t been cleared to start cleaning up the damage yet. Hoping to get in soon, though. That fella over there is an arson investigator.” He jerked his head toward where a man I didn’t recognize was poking through the rubble while Chief Thompson waited nearby.
“How did we land an arson investigator this fast? I thought they had to come from off-island.” I was sure Hoyt had mentioned that after the beach house fire.
Hoyt stepped up. “We’ve had so many fires this summer, we finally got moved up on the list. He’ll probably be checking out the beach rental, too.”
Across the parking lot, I spotted Bree and Ford. Tears tracked down her cheeks, and as I watched, Ford took her into his arms. She burrowed into him, burying her face against his broad shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding on as she cried.
It was a Thing that Bree was letting herself lean on him. She liked to pretend she didn’t need anyone—a sentiment I more than understood. I hoped that at least one good thing could come from this nightmare. Maybe Ford would realize he felt more for her than mere friendship.
Beside me, Hoyt hadn’t stopped scanning the crowd, his body tense.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just watching everybody, noting their reactions.”
“Why?”
