Someone Else's Ocean(17)

“Oh.” The smile he gave her was genuine.

“Okay, love, thank you. I was just checking in. I hate to bother you so much.” Her voice was sincere and apologetic.

“It’s fine, Rowan. Anytime.”

“Thank you, Koti.”

I inhaled the sea air as I gazed at the rolling waves. It once renewed my faith. I had no doubt they would work their magic on Ian.





I SAT THAT NIGHT WITH candles lit all over my deck, freshly broiled fish waiting in the oven and a crisp salad spoiling on the porch. Ian was a no-show. I was surprised at my disappointment when he stomped on my white flag and even more flabbergasted minutes later, when the sound of a woman’s laugh filtered in the air before I heard the rumble of Ian’s voice. Hopping to my feet as the sun set, I blew out the candles and dashed inside in an attempt to save face from his rejection. From my upstairs porch, stretching my neck and body, I peeked over the side of the house to see Ian ravaging a woman in our large sand-filled alley. He was dressed in slacks and a light button-down and she was plastered to the siding, hidden under his tall frame. I heard her moan underneath him before her head tilted up heavenward, her eyes tightly shut as he whispered to her before lifting her skirt, his hands working beneath. Too intoxicated to look away, I watched him devour her as she gasped under his touch.

Face flushed I looked on, silently scorning the total pervert I was and felt a slight twinge of… something.

Jealousy?

For Ian? No, he was a dick.

A total and complete dick.

So much for s’more loyalty.

Mentally I picked up my battered white flag and tucked it back in my pocket.

Was I jealous of the attention the woman was getting?

Definitely. It was one thing to go without, it was another thing entirely to have it tossed in your face. I loved a good kiss, the whisper of a man’s lips on my neck. I was beginning to miss sex, but that was the most of it. I’d done long-term without the happy ending, short-term with the abrupt record scratch ending and more one-night stands than a girl should admit to. When you referred to the last guy you were intimate with as the one with the black-checkered tie, as I did, desire took a back seat to self-worth. I wanted the relationship with the next man to be a little more meaningful, but that would require commitment and I’d just gotten myself together.

Everything about my life in New York went fast.

My new focus was slow and meaningful.

Fighting with myself to look away; instead, I chose to drink in the scene below. Accusatory gray eyes met mine when I glanced back down at the couple and my face lit up in embarrassment. Ian ripped himself from her, his eyes still on mine. He was clearly drunk and staggered into his house with the woman in tow, slamming the door behind them.

I threw the untouched fish in the sink and grabbed a pair of silencing plugs from my nightstand. It was going to be a long night.





The next morning, Ian sat on the beach in nothing but swim trunks as I made my way out of the house for work. He barely glanced my way which was fine with me. I had nothing to say to him. At least I didn’t have to worry about false reports to his mother because he had finally joined the land of the living. Despite my best efforts to block Ian out, I was up half the night hot and cold, tossing and turning, with body aches.

I knew what was coming and had the pissy mood to match.

In a freshly purchased pair of flip-flops, with an iced coffee in hand, I walked toward my Jeep to start my day when he spoke.

“Have you talked to my mother?” He wiped the sand off his swim trunks as he stood. Ripping my eyes from his profile, lit by the early morning sun, I continued walking to my Jeep without a word.

“Oh, you are going to play hurt?” He barked at me. “I declined your dinner invitation. I was pretty clear.”

I bit the inside of both cheeks and kept my feet moving.

“Could you at least tell her not to come?”

“Tell her yourself,” I said, throwing my purse into the passenger seat.

“Favor for a favor, Koti. I lent you my shower. This is not a difficult request.”

Facing him, I crossed my arms. “Why are you so afraid of your mother?”

Hypocrite.

I barely answered my own mother’s calls. My failures looked horrible on her face and were no less daunting over the line. Her “in my day” speeches suffocated me and had my whole life. The less we spoke the closer we got to middle ground.

Ian took a step forward. “She’s a mother. She asks too many questions.”

“Seems like you had no issue talking last night.” A single brow rose while he studied my face.

“Dirty boy, aren’t you? Tell you what. Why don’t you take your spoiled ass inside that house and call your own damned mommy.”

Screw babysitting, I would make it work. If Ian left, spoke ill of me to his mother, if I lost the commission, I would beg Jasmine not to fire me while I rallied for another property.

Ian took an aggressive step forward. “Not that it’s any of your business but I haven’t had sex with anyone but my ex-wife in fifteen years so I guarantee you if I sleep with anyone, it’s a well-deserved fuck.”

“Well, I hope you wrapped it up tight because we don’t need you multiplying your kind of crazy around here.”

His face turned to stone and his jaw ticked. “What in the hell did you just say?”