Summer at the Shore Leave Cafe by Abbie Williams Read Free Book Online

didn’t have to turn to know that Blythe was headed in our direction. He was at our table in the next moment, leaning over the only empty chair, curling his big hands around the top. I pretended to be occupied with my silverware rolling, not wanting to notice how Camille was beaming at him, her own hands gripping each other tightly. Jilly said, “Hey, Bly, you outta here for the night?”
    He grinned at my sister. I braved a look in his direction and found myself studying the line of his jaw, scruffy now with a day’s growth of whiskers. His forearms were tan and sinewy, braced against the chair back, and lightly dusted with dark hair. As much as I wanted to kick myself, I would be lying if I said that a pulse didn’t beat low in my stomach at the sight of him.
    â€œI’m headed into town, actually. I thought I might see what’s shaking over at Eddie’s.” Eddie always had live music on Fridays. Bly’s deep voice was so very appealing. For a split second I allowed myself to fantasize that I was seventeen—no, make that eighteen—and that I could accompany this gorgeous man to the bar, where we would drink and dance, and then…
    I mentally bashed my forehead on the table in front of me. Joelle Gordon, you have absolutely lost your mind , I reprimanded, harshly. Too long had passed since I’d had sex with Jackson. A good year, actually, and obviously not once since the incident at the Christmas party. Much more time had passed since we’d made love like we used to…hot and heavy and fantastic. In all those years I’d scarcely fantasized about other men, so consumed with wife- and motherhood. It must be the dearth, catching up with me at last.
    But then, to my amazement, he added, “You two would be more than welcome to come with,” addressing Jilly, but his gaze flickered to include me in the equation. Then he looked apologetically at my daughter. “I’d invite you, too, but…”
    Camille smiled winningly. I could tell how thrilled she was to be included, though she played it cool. “I know, not old enough. But thanks.”
    â€œNo problem,” he replied, and looked back at us. “What do ya say?”
    If Jilly was as profoundly tempted by this request as I was, she did a marvelous job of hiding the fact. She said, “We’ll see. Jo, you’re probably pretty tired, huh?”
    Damn you, Jilly , I telegraphed her fiercely. But I could tell she was just giving me a delicate out. I almost ground my teeth together before saying what I knew I had to, what propriety demanded. “Maybe some other time. But thanks.”
    He appeared unruffled, backing up a step and removing the bandana from his forehead. “I’ll hold you to it,” he added, and his lips were full and soft as he met my eyes for a fraction of a second, with the merest suggestion of heat. I was sure I wasn’t imagining it, and darted my gaze away like lightning.
    â€œSee you guys,” he added before lumbering away; all three of us watched him go, watched him through the window as he bid the older folks good-night. Mom actually slapped him on the butt as he said something to make them laugh, and I was absurdly jealous of her.
    Camille said, low, as he disappeared into his truck, “Oh my God, he’s cute.”
    Jilly and I exchanged a quick look at the reverence in her tone. Shit, I had to damper this right now; my own fantasies were insane enough, but I would absolutely not allow my impressionable young daughter to go down this road with a full-grown man, and an ex-convict, no matter how beautiful he was.
    â€œMilla, goofball, he’s got a girlfriend,” Jilly said, keeping her tone intentionally light. She conceded, “I know he’s cute, though.”
    A girlfriend. Of course he did…and I thanked Jilly for mentioning her. “Camilla-billa,” I added, in keeping with the nicknames, “he’s a