Until Autumn Falls Read online

  “Water would be great.”

  He handed her a bottle and settled into his lounger, barely leaving a sliver of room for her. He popped the top on his soda and took a long drink, a sigh escaping his lips. He seemed perfectly content to watch the waves come in, but every passing moment made the fire in Hilary’s stomach burn hotter.

  She finally set her water in the sand and started unbuttoning her cover-up. Tripp watched every movement with desire burning in his dark eyes. She let the filmy fabric fall to the ground and she circled the chaise to give him a good view of the back of her swimming suit.

  Well, the swimming suit didn’t exactly have a back, a fact she knew he liked when he sucked in a breath and set down his soda.

  “So, you’ve seen it.” She resisted the urge to make sure the top had covered her scars. She’d used the body glue at home, behind locked doors. “What do you think?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What do I think?” Tripp’s voice scratched his throat. What he thought was he wanted her next to him, stat. Wanted to touch the creamy skin on her back, her shoulders. Her suit was all black, with intricate patterns sewn on the bodice, which went all the way to her throat and tied around her neck. She’d managed to find something so satisfyingly sexy and yet keep that left part of her neck and collarbone covered.

  The back was completely open, revealing the muscles in her slim arms and her entire back. The skin didn’t stop there either, but went almost to her navel in the front, and was cut so high on the leg, one might have considered the bottom to be attached only by string.

  “I think you better get over here,” he said hoarsely.

  She sat on the edge of the chaise and leaned back into his chest. He liked holding her close, but he wanted her to face him. He trailed his mouth from her ear toward her shoulder, and she twisted toward him on her own.

  He kissed her as his hands explored the softness of her back. Every time he moved them down, he thought he’d reach that scrap of fabric, but he didn’t. She seemed impossibly tall, with so much skin to experiment with.

  “You better slow down,” she whispered into his mouth. “There are families here.”

  He put a couple of inches between them. “Is that the only reason?”

  “The main one right now.”

  “Well, we can fix that.” He started to get up but stopped when she protested.

  “Where are you going?”

  He nodded down the shoreline a ways. “Behind that outcropping of rock, there’s another beach. It’s more private.”

  “And then what?” She used her hand as a shade over her sunglasses.

  “Then you won’t need to wear that ‘one-piece’ swimming suit.”

  “It is technically a one-piece.” She pressed one hot palm to his chest. “Lay back down. We’re not going to have sex on the beach.”

  “Ever?” he whispered into her hair.

  “Do people really do that?”

  “It’s on my bucket list,” he admitted. “And I gotta say, I want to do it with you.” Oh, how he wanted to make love to her. Every cell in his body sang of it.

  She sighed in a way that set alarms off in his head.

  “What?” he asked. “Are you saying we’re not going to have sex?”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “I grew up with a sister,” he said. “Women don’t always need to articulate with words.”

  She propped herself up on one elbow, leveling her face with his. “I want to be…I don’t know, held. Cherished. I want to walk the beach with you hand-in-hand and take you home where you’ll shower me with love.” She gazed out over the sand, almost in an unseeing way. “I want the kind of love that doesn’t die. That looks past imperfections.” She brought her eyes back to his. “I grew up in Miami, the capital of bikinis and booze and babies having babies. I thought that’s what I wanted, but then I got here. And some of that traditional charm that exists here in Redwood Bay has infected me.”

  With every word she said, Tripp’s thoughts changed. Morphed into something new. Frustration cooled his desire. “That’s a lot for a guy to live up to.”

  “I want more than sex on the beach.”

  “That’s not what this is.” He felt hurt she’d even think that was the kind of man he was.

  She pressed her lips to his but kept the kiss sweet. “I want to make love to you,” she whispered. “So no, I never said we weren’t ever going to have sex. I just want…it to happen a little more traditionally.” She pressed her cheek to his pulse, which now galloped with newfound excitement.

  “And maybe when autumn falls, and the tourists leave, we can come check that item off your bucket list.”

  “Autumn, huh?” He pulled her closer and ran the tip of his tongue around the edge of her earlobe. He enjoyed the way she moaned, adored the arch of her back as she tried to get closer to him. “How traditional are we talking?” he asked. He nipped her earlobe between his teeth. “Like, we need to wait until autumn altogether? Or…?” He let his question hang there, hoping he wasn’t pressuring her to sleep with him when she wasn’t ready.

  She turned her head and met his mouth with hers. After a long, breathless kiss, she pulled back and said, “I don’t know how long, Tripp.” Her fingers stroked down the side of his face lovingly. “I’m new to this, coming back after a long hiatus from dating.”

  “I understand that,” he growled. “You let me know when you’re ready.”

  A quick smile flashed across her face. “When I’m ready, you’ll know.” She touched her lips to his again, and the way she kissed him—with powerful passion and absolute abandon—he thought she was ready now.

  His hands wandered, and when his thumbs brushed up her sides, nearing her breasts, she seized and pulled back. He let her go, let her settle into his embrace, let time pass with the ocean waves providing a symphony in the background.

  And he knew. She had to show him what she kept so neatly hidden before she’d be ready. After all, she obviously didn’t have a problem displaying her skin—just the patch on her left side.

  * * * *

  Tripp hadn’t understood how deeply Hilary had rooted herself into his life until she wasn’t there. He suddenly understood why Jared didn’t like the tour groups or the deep sea fishing expeditions. The hours on the boat—the hours away from Hilary—made Tripp cranky.

  At the same time, he needed a break from her. It had only been two weeks since she’d seated herself at his table-for-one in the sports bar. Two weeks since he first believed he had a chance of dating her. And only a few days since he’d first kissed her.

  Everything was happening fast, and Tripp didn’t necessarily mind, but he also needed time to decompress and assess how he felt about Hilary. And if there was one thing he had on a fishing boat headed out into the middle of the ocean, it was time.

  Jared tried to engage him in conversation about the family lunch in the first hour, but Tripp had shut him down. Mostly because he wasn’t sure what had caused Hilary to run away in the middle of the meal. He hadn’t asked her, instead choosing to add the question to his ever-growing list.

  She seemed apt to share what she wanted to, when she wanted to. And for now, he was satisfied with that. From what she’d already told him and the scarce glances at what she usually hid behind scarves, he’d deduced that she’d been hurt in Miami. Whether it was an accident or not, he didn’t know. Whether it was self-inflicted or not, he wasn’t sure. He’d been leaning away from that one, though, since she told him of her escape from her hometown in the middle of the night. That didn’t seem like something she’d need to do if she’d tried to take her own life.

  His head was clear about her, and what she’d told him. But where his thoughts tangled was over the issue of being her knight in shining armor. Holding her the way she needed. Cherishing her the way she craved. Loving her the way she desired.

  Tripp had never been a man to worry much about how others perceived him. But with Hilary, it was all he thoug
ht of. Did he not kiss her right? Tell her she was beautiful enough?

  He couldn’t utter the three little words yet, only because he didn’t quite know how he felt about Hilary. He liked her. Loved spending time with her, listening to her talk, kissing her and laughing with her. He’d rather be with her right now than with Jared and the Shakespear family who wanted to see whales and dolphins.

  But he put on his happy face and entertained the people. He found the pod of whales. Jared fed the family around the clock. By the time they got back to Redwood Bay, Tripp carried the exhaustion in his shoulders like a physical weight.

  He let Jared shower first, because then he’d leave in favor of visiting Millie. This particular Friday night, there would be no poker and no girls’ night. Jared likely wouldn’t return until morning, and Tripp would see him at the office before the house.

  He prowled in his bedroom until Jared finished, and then he locked himself in the bathroom. He longed to call Hilary while at the same time, he wasn’t sure he should call so soon. He studied himself in the mirror, wishing there were some sort of dating manual. A guide, maybe. Heck, he’d take a loose outline at this point.

  In the end, he showered and then texted her: I’m back. As he trimmed his beard, his phone buzzed. Going fishing tomorrow? Can I go?

  He wanted to see her that evening, so he jammed his thumb on the call button and lifted the phone to his ear.

  “Hey, stranger.” She giggled.

  “Of course you can go fishing with me tomorrow. I’m teaching you how until you can buy your own boat and start your own fishing business.”

  Her laughter painted his life in gold. “That’s never going to happen, Tripp.”

  “Why not?”

  “I will never be able to haul in a net full of fish. Do you know how much they weigh?”

  “So you’ll need to hire a crewman. That’s easy.”

  “I like eating bananas for breakfast.”

  The humor in her voice made him grin. “Oh, well, yeah. Then your career choices are limited.”

  “I do want to learn to fish though. I’m just not sure I’ll ever own my own boat and do what you do.”

  “You can come with me anytime,” he said. “It’s an open invitation.”

  “But no kissing on the boat.”

  “Right.”

  “So I have a follow-up question about that.” She didn’t wait for him to say anything. “Does that apply to other things? You know like, can I hold your hand on the boat? Or will that make her mad?”

  “That was three questions,” he pointed out. “And I have no qualms about holding hands on Betsy Ross.”

  “What a relief. Follow-up question: What about something like, oh, I don’t know, me sleeping in your stateroom. Would that be objectionable to Betsy Ross?”

  “Are you saying you want to sleep with me on my boat?”

  “Of course not,” she said, maybe a little too quickly. “You said I could sleep on the way out to sea. I was just wondering if Betsy would let me do that in your bed.”

  Tripp cleared his throat. “I gotta be honest, Hil. If I saw you curled up in my bed, in my stateroom, I wouldn’t really care what Betsy Ross thought.”

  “So what if one of my bucket list items is to make love on a boat? You could help me with that?”

  Tripp coughed. “I could help you with that tonight, sweetheart. Right now. As soon as you can get to the pier.”

  She laughed again. “But we can’t kiss while onboard.”

  “It would be risky.”

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  “I was hoping to take you to dinner,” he said, his hopes soaring much farther than dinner. “What do you think? Did you nap today?”

  “Nope. Did you?”

  “I can manage.”

  “Then I can too.”

  “When can you be ready?”

  “I’m turning the corner onto your street right now.”

  Tripp jerked his gaze toward the hallway, but only saw the closed bathroom door. “I just got out of the shower. I’m not dressed.”

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  He chuckled. “Is it working?”

  “A mental image of you undressed is running through my mind right now. I better pull over before I drive right off the road.”

  They laughed together and he said, “I’ll be ready in five minutes. Come on in if you get here and I don’t answer the door.” He hung up and lunged toward his bedroom. Part of him wanted to get dressed as quickly as possible and be waiting for her on the front porch. The other part wanted to wait until she knocked on the door and then open it wearing nothing but the towel around his waist.

  He wondered if she’d be ready then, if she really wanted to make love on his boat. If she didn’t, why would she say that?

  He wasn’t sure, but the rational, less risky side of him won and he stepped into his bedroom to get dressed. When he came out, Hilary waited in the kitchen, her gaze out the window into the backyard. She wore a blue and pink sundress, strapless to reveal that sexy back. She’d tied a bright yellow scarf around her neck.

  “Hey.” He slid his arms around her and took a deep breath of her skin. “I missed you so much.” He kissed the spot just below her ear. “It’s so good to see you.” He turned her in his arms and kissed her like he’d never kissed a woman before.

  As they carried on, as he lifted her onto the counter and she wrapped her legs around his torso, as he deepened the kiss, he could hardly believe she was here. That he could be hers.

  “We should go to dinner,” she finally whispered, cradling his face in her hands and bringing him close for another kiss.

  “Hilary.” The way he breathed her name with reverence wasn’t lost on him.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Hmm?”

  His fingers curled around the end of the yellow scarf. “Can I see what’s under the scarf?” She jerked like he’d slapped her. “You know, later tonight, when we’re on the boat?”

  “I—” She pulled the scarf from his light touch and adjusted it.

  “You don’t really want to go to the boat.” He stepped back, feeling like a fool. He clapped his hands together. “All right. Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

  “Tripp.”

  Feeling vulnerable and stung, he looked at her. “What, Hilary?”

  “I want to go to the boat, I do.”

  “Just not tonight.” He fell back another step when he saw the truth in her eyes. “Why’d you say all that then?”

  She shrugged, but he wasn’t letting this one drop. “No.” He shook his head. “You know why. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “The scarf tells me that every time I see it.” He rubbed the back of his neck and paced away, his hopes crashing to the carpet, his fantasies fading into darkness.

  “I’m scared that you don’t really like me. That you just want to sleep with me.”

  Tripp spun back to her, his anger hot and instant. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “It’s happened to me before.”

  “Not from me.” He shook his head. “Not in Redwood Bay, from what I could tell.”

  She cocked her head. “What does that mean?”

  Tripp glared at her, trying to decide whether to trust her with this information or not. She clearly didn’t trust him, or his intentions. Their relationship had gotten really hot, really fast. His gaze moved to the scarf and back, his anger fading a little.

  “Tripp, tell me what that means.” She gazed steadily back at him, almost an edge of pleading in her eyes.

  “It means I’ve had my eye on you for a few months now. I used to spend the hour on the way to the halibut schools wondering how I could ask you out, and if you’d say yes. I’d get all worked up to do it, and then I’d second-guess myself and chicken out.” He took a deep breath. “I never saw you go out with anyone else. Not even before I started thinking about you non-stop.”
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br />   A blush stained her face, making her even more beautiful. “And why did you start thinking about me?”

  “Something Jared said.”

  “What did he say?”

  “It was nothing.”

  “It was something,” she pressed.

  “He asked me if there was anything going on between us. Said he saw something in the way I looked at you.” Tripp turned away from her and strode to the sliding glass door, where he stopped. “That’s when I started seeing you.” He glanced back at her and caught her swiping at her eyes. His chest caved in on itself. He couldn’t have her crying.

  “And if you’ll remember, you sat down at my table.”

  “After your date left with another guy.”

  “Yours stood you up.”

  She glared for several moments until her lips twitched into a smile, which morphed into a laugh. “That night was a disaster, wasn’t it?”

  Tripp allowed himself a momentary smile, but couldn’t muster up much more than that. “I don’t know, Hil. I thought it turned out pretty great.”

  “That’s because you’re an ice cream hog.”

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m not the one sitting in Lucy’s booth every afternoon with a shake in front of me.”

  She blanched, her face horrified. “I don’t—who told you?”

  Tripp held up his hands. “Lucky guess.” He couldn’t help chuckling at her standing there, her hands on her hips.

  She relaxed, the fight leaving her expression and her muscles. “Tell me what we do now.”

  “You go on home,” Tripp said. “I’ll see you nice and early, the way you like it.” He threw her a half-smile and hoped she’d go.

  “We didn’t go to dinner.”

  “You don’t eat anything anyhow.” Tripp wished he could recall his words as soon as he said them.

  Hilary made a squeaking noise, her eyes wild. Then she spun, the scarf swirling in tandem with her skirt, and ran through the front door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hilary knew how to run. She knew how to run so no one could find her. But when she burst from Tripp’s house, she didn’t even know which way to go. She stumbled on the lawn and had just rounded the stand of trees on the edge of his property when he called her name.