Derailed (Clayton Falls #1)(11)
Author: Alyssa Rose Ivy

“Oh no. You still need to tell me what all this poison bullshit is.” He examined my wrist, belatedly checking it to make sure he hadn’t hurt me.

“I’m just making you realize that there are worse things than having me leave.”

“I haven’t experienced any yet.”

“Just stop. You wanted to make me feel guilty, and you were successful.” I pulled my hand away from him and stood up. Before I could take two steps, he was on his feet.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty!” he yelled.

“Then what do you want?”

He tugged at his hair. “Why the hell not?” I heard him mutter before he pulled me toward him, wrapping his arms around me tightly until I was flush against him. With a hand under my chin, he made me look up at him. “I want you, Molly, can’t you see that?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. The crush of his lips against mine made it impossible for any verbal response. My body kicked into autopilot, responding to him. He slightly loosened his hold on me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. In the process, my towel dropped, but I was too into the kiss to do anything about it. He demanded access, and I opened up to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss. As his hand started to slip under the wet fabric of my bra, my brain returned from its haze.

“Stop.” I pulled my lips from his, pushing my hands against his chest.

He didn’t acknowledge it at first, but eventually he must have realized I was no longer into the kiss. He stepped back, just staring at me. His eyes revealed a hunger that scared me with its intensity. I wasn’t ready for anything like it. I retrieved my towel, tying it securely around me.

“You’ve got to get out of here.”

“Why?” His hands already reached defiantly toward me.

I took a step back. “Because we just came way too close to doing something we’d both regret.”

“Regret? Why the hell would we regret it? We want each other; we’re both single, what’s the problem?”

“It’s—”

“Wait. Don’t even try with the poison excuse again.”

“Let’s not go down this path. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t hurt me.”

“Ben.”

“Then what do you suggest?” He rocked back on his heels.

“We stay away from each other?”

“Uh huh, because that will be easy.”

“We can try.” I shrugged.

“You do that.” He winked. “See you around.”

“I don’t plan on it.” I tried to hide the smile that crept onto my face before turning away from him.

“Sweet dreams.”

“I’d say the same to you, but I don’t want you to take it too literally.”

He laughed, and I realized just how much I’d missed the deep sound. “Don’t worry; I’ll have those dreams anyhow.”

Picking up my pile of clothes, I headed up to the back porch. Turning around, I saw Ben standing in the same spot, watching me.

Chapter Six

My hours at Marney’s were sporadic, likely because Gail was only making up shifts for me. Sometimes I’d work two half shifts, which left me with an inordinate amount of free time in the middle of the day. After the morning rush on my second day, I decided to head home and grab my camera.

Talking to Ben about the old art department fundraiser had reminded me of just how long it had been since I’d really focused on my photography. With the extra time on my hands, I figured it couldn’t hurt. One of the few luxuries I’d allowed myself during school was a nice camera. I loved my Nikon, but I had been using it more as a way to record my life rather than to take photos for artistic purposes.

Wandering down to the beach, I spent a few hours snapping shots. Before long, I found my favorite spot to take pictures: a protected area surrounded by large sand dunes. All sorts of things washed up there, from crabs and beautiful shells, to old beer bottles and trash. I once did a whole series of pictures on the trash that washed ashore. As gross as trash can be, there is something poetic about the juxtaposition of something so dirty against the beauty of the beach. But my all-time favorite thing to photograph was driftwood. I loved how every piece was a little different, like they each had their own story to tell.

After a few hours of taking pictures, I arrived back at work in time to help prepare for lunch. By a quarter after noon, Gail and I realized it was going to be a much heavier crowd than usual.

She blamed it on me. “If you’ll notice, it’s mostly male customers. A little suspicious, if you ask me.”

“Yeah right, they’re all here for you.”

She laughed. “Let’s call it even.”

“Hey, Molly.” Tom strolled in.

“Hi there.” I hoped Kelly hadn’t mentioned my meltdown the night before. When I texted before bed to let her know I was okay, she said it was fine.

“Can you talk for a second?” he asked.

“Two minutes, and then I need her back,” Gail answered for me.

“Okay, two minutes,” he repeated.

I walked around the counter and followed him to an empty table. “What’s up?”

“I’ll get right to the point. Kelly is worried about you, which means I’m worried about you.”

“Oh, about last night? I didn’t mean to upset her.” I sank down further into my chair.

“I’m sure you didn’t. But you scared her. She’s afraid you’re depressed.”

“I’m not depressed.”

“You know what might help make up for it, though?”

“What?” I so didn’t need a guilt trip, even though I knew he was right.

“Come over for dinner tonight. You still haven’t seen the house, and she’d love to show it off.”

“All right,” I answered quickly. If it might help smooth things over with Kelly, I was all about it. She was the only friend in town I’d bothered to keep in contact with, and I needed her friendship more than I’d ever have admitted.

“Great. Come over around seven?”

“Sure, but I better get back to work.”

“All right, see you later,” he called over his shoulder as he walked out. He hadn’t even ordered food.

The next hour went quickly, and things had just started to quiet when Ben walked through the door.

“Wow, fancy meeting you here.” He smiled, strolling right up to the counter.