Barefoot by the Sea

Chapter Twenty-one

This time, nothing would stop her. Tessa waited until late afternoon the next day, when it cooled down a bit, kneeling in the soil behind her tractor, threading the three-point hitch. The vines would be cut come hell or high water. Plus, a good long ride could clear the confusion of—

“Hey, Aunt Tessa! Whatchya doin’?”

Or not. With a nearly silent grunt of frustration, she turned, smiling at Ashley as the girl loped over a row of English peas, her long stride surprisingly easy and fast considering that her jeans had been sprayed on.

Tessa wouldn’t demand to know what was going on, but any opportunity to talk could only help Ashley. She hoped.

Standing straight, Tessa took a moment to watch the younger woman approach, a deep-seated love swelling inside her. Ashley hadn’t been the easiest child to raise—and still wasn’t—but Lacey, a single mother for every minute of the first fifteen years of her daughter’s life, had done a remarkable job.

“I’m harvesting sweet potatoes,” Tessa called back. “Want to help?”

Ashley made a face, then brightened. “I’ll drive the tractor!”

“Not a chance.” The soil was soft and, despite the fact that she used a fairly small gardening tractor, it was top-heavy and required a deft touch and experienced driver.

Ashley’s expression fell again. “Can we talk before you start?” she asked as she got closer.

“Of course,” Tessa answered without a second’s hesitation. She stood, yanking off her oversized gardening gloves. “I always have time for you.”

Ashley gave a dry smile. “Good thing, since Mom is MIA.”

“Ash, come on. She’s running a business.”

“She’s at the pediatrician.”

Tessa drew back. “Is Elijah sick?”

“No, he needs some shot thing. I don’t know. Clay’s with her and they left me a note on the kitchen counter. Not a soul in sight.” She sounded defeated, and Tessa immediately wanted to defend her friend, in spite of the age-old resentment that rose.

“Well, you’re seventeen, Ash. It’s not like you’re coming home from kindergarten to an empty house.” Though Tessa knew that feeling, too.

Ashley leaned against the tractor, looking over Tessa’s shoulder. “You know, I’m a little sick of it. It’s annoying to always come in second. Or third.”

“Did you come all the way out here to complain about your mom?” Tessa asked gently. “’Cause if you did, I will make you dig in the dirt.”

“No, I just want to talk to somebody.” Kicking the soil with a bright-green Converse sneaker, she kept her eyes cast down. “Did you decide what to do about, you know, telling my mom about Marc?”

“I’m still thinking about it,” she said, remembering John’s sage advice to keep the lines of communication open.

“What are you thinking about?” Ashley asked.

Nothing but myself and my own crush. “Well, are you still seeing him?”

“Uh, yeah.” She choked softly on the word. “Was with him all last night.”

“All last night?”

“No, but until one in the morning. We were out on the beach.”

So she hadn’t been the only one kissing under the stars last night. Except—had Ashley stopped things the same way Tessa had? How could she find out without prying too far into Ashley’s privacy?

“You were out until one on a school night?”

Ashley let out a sharp laugh. “Aunt Tessa, I’m almost in college.”

“You’re a junior in high school,” Tessa said quickly. “What did your mom say when you got home that late?”

She shrugged. “She was crashed. I guess Elijah had a feeding at midnight and Mom grabs every minute of sleep she can.”

“Clay didn’t hear you come in?”

Another shrug, then a guilty look. “I told him I was at my friend Kaylee’s house.”

Tessa closed her eyes. “Ashley, you can’t lie and sneak around. I won’t help you do that and you know it.”

“I know. I…” She let out a little moan and shivered. “Oh, God.”

Oh, God, what? “What does that mean?”

She hugged herself and gave up a rapturous look. “I really, really, really like him and it has me all crazy inside, you know?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tessa said with a dry laugh. “I know.”

“See?” Ashley nudged her. “Hard to say no to a little of the good thing.”

“The good thing?”

“That’s what Marcus calls it.”

Which said a lot about his feelings regarding sex. Tessa leaned on the hitch, trying to decide what to say. “Look, you’re not a child, and I know kids at seventeen have sex.”

“A lot of them do,” Ashley said. “Like, half my friends lost their virginity last year.”

Tessa cringed. “But is that the right thing to do? I mean, it feels like fun in the moment, but what about when he never calls again and you’ve given him that part of yourself? What about disease and pregnancy and self-respect?”

She expected an argument, but Ashley just looked at her. “I know, Aunt Tess. I’m careful.”

“I’m carefuling,” Tessa said with a smile.

“What?”

The memory teased. “When you were little, we were at the beach with you and your mom kept saying ‘Be careful, Ash’ when you went in too deep, and you turned around and said, ‘I’m carefuling.’ You know, you’re still that baby to me and your mom, Ash.”

“But I’m not,” she replied. “I’m grown up.”

“Enough to have sex?”

“Enough to make my own decisions.”

“Ashley, don’t…” Tessa rooted around for the right words. “Please be smart about this boy. This man,” she amended quickly. “You can get in way too deep, way too fast.”

“I promise I won’t do anything stupid, Aunt Tess. God knows I don’t want to mess up my life like my mom did.”

And Tessa’s mom. “Ashley, your mother doesn’t feel like she messed up her life by getting pregnant with you,” she said. “I know that, because I was there. I was with her the day she took the pregnancy test. I’ve known you since before you were born.”

“Which is why I’m asking you not to turn me in.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Just using the words ‘turn me in’ makes me feel like you know you’re doing something wrong, Ashley.”

She shook her head. “Is it wrong if you’re in love?”

“You’re too young to know what love is.”

She got a shaky smile in response. A smile that said Ashley thought she knew exactly what love was.

“You hardly know him, Ashley.”

“I know him as well as you know John Brown. Aren’t you doing it with him?”

“No.” But it was only a matter of time, right? “And even if I were, I’m in my thirties. Listen to me.”

She reached out for Ashley’s hands, wanting so desperately to talk sense into someone who was way past sensible.“You have to promise me you won’t lie or sneak around anymore.”

“I can’t tell my mom I’m dating Marcus, Aunt Tess. She’d fire him, I know she would. He needs this job so bad.”

“Will you promise me you’ll think long and hard before you do anything you might regret later?”

“I’ll try, Aunt Tess.”

Should she tell Lacey? The question pressed hard, making her shake her head. “Your mom needs to know this, Ashley.”

“No!” She squeezed Tessa’s hands. “Please, I promise, promise, promise we won’t go any further than we have. I won’t do anything that could get me a disease, a baby, or…”

“Or a broken heart.”

“Oh, he won’t break my heart,” she said confidently. “He loves me. He told me last night.”

“He could be lying to get into your pants.”

She just smiled.

Damn. He probably said it when he was already in her pants. “Oh, Ash—”

“Hey! You better not be planning to get on that thing.”

They both turned at the sound of Zoe’s voice, the sight of her plucking her way across the garden in a flowing yellow sundress ending the conversation.

“Don’t tell her, either,” Ashley whispered, a soft desperation in her voice.

Tessa closed her eyes. “Why are you trusting the person who hates secrets?”

Ashley didn’t answer as Zoe came closer, pointing to the vehicle that apparently wasn’t going to get used at all in the near future. “So, does he think your tractor’s sexy?”

“Very funny, Zoe. I’m harvesting sweet potatoes and I need to get back to it.”

“Not today, you’re not.”

“I have to,” Tessa said, pointing to the tangled vines that were fast becoming her nemesis. “Under that lies hundreds of sweets, and they aren’t going to unearth themselves.” She frowned at Zoe. “I don’t suppose you’d go change and follow the tractor with a basket, would you?”

“The only one of us who’s going to change is you. Take a shower and put on some pretty undies.” She curled her lip and gave Tessa’s overall shorts a disgusted look. “Do you have pretty undies?”

Ashley giggled. “For sweet potato harvesting?”

Zoe reached out a hand to both of them. “Come on. The gang is waiting.”

“My mom’s at the pediatrician’s,” Ashley said.

“Not anymore she’s not. She’s looking all over for you.”

Tessa shot an I-told-you-so look at the young girl.

“Does she need me?” Ashley asked.

“She wants to make sure you come with us, of course.”

Ashley’s eyes brightened. “Where are we going?”

Zoe grinned and yanked Tessa closer. “Wedding-dress shopping!”

Tessa froze. “I thought Lacey was still checking out other possible couples. This isn’t a definite thing yet.”

“We’re dress shopping for me,” Zoe said, tugging her. “I need you to be my thinner version. And if we find something you might want to wear for the faux wedding, all the better.”

With one last look at the vines, Tessa let Zoe lead her away.

The minute he could escape the restaurant, Ian grabbed his safe phone and jumped on his bike, not bothering to say good-bye to anyone. Let them look if they needed him, but he would not be found. Not until he made a call to Henry.

He revved the bike engine and peeled out of the resort lot, heading through the gated exit to the winding road that connected Barefoot Bay with the rest of Mimosa Key. A cloud drifted and let some late afternoon sunlight filter through overhanging palm fronds to warm him through his T-shirt and jeans.

But deep inside, he was as ice cold as he’d been since he’d left Tessa the night before.

Glancing to his right, he studied the cobalt expanse of the Gulf of Mexico, wondering for a moment if he should get across that body of water and start over somewhere else. He’d never been to Texas. But hey, he’d never even been to Nevada, but Tessa thought he’d lived and worked there. Bloody hell, why was this lie so hard?

He’d been living a lie for three years, since the day he’d said good-bye to his kids, taken his new identification, and Ian Browning became Sean Bern. Not a word that had come out of his mouth for the better part of those three years had been honest. He lied about his name, his life, his opinions, his language, his feelings. Until he got into it with some idiot and fucked up his cover by landing in jail; he could still be in Singapore, working, drinking, hiding from anything that resembled caring about someone other than himself.

But too much more time with Tessa Galloway and he wasn’t going to be able to keep up with the lies. He liked her. He liked her a hell of a lot. He liked everything about her, and he hated what he was doing.

There had to be a better way.

He took a curve too fast, veering so far he damn near laid the bike on the pavement, but he whipped it back, narrowly avoiding a wipeout. Which, he thought bitterly, was another option he had.

No, checking out of Barefoot Bay and the situation he’d gotten himself into wasn’t his only option. He had one more, one that had kept him awake all night, brewing and stewing. There was another way to handle this; a possibility that, once planted in his brain, wouldn’t get loose.

He could tell Tess everything.

No matter how he played out that conversation in his imagination, he knew it wouldn’t be in any way pleasurable or easy. He lifted his face to the sky for a moment, but a cloud had covered the sun again. He had to call Henry and convince him that this woman could be trusted.

There’d be some aftermath, of course. Even in this short bit of time, she’d be hurt that he’d lied. She might refuse to help him, but he doubted that. They could start over, on honest ground.

He wanted that so much he could taste it. How had that happened? How had she wormed her way into his psyche already?

It didn’t matter. She had, and he had to get out from under this anvil of lies. This time, it was different. This time, she mattered. A lot. Too much.

Far enough between the resort and town that the road was deserted, he slowed down and pulled to the side, spitting up some sand and gravel as he brought the bike to a halt. This was as good a place as any to—

An engine screamed from around the bend, and he whipped around to see a cherry-red 4x4 with the top down, music blaring almost as loud as the engine. As it got closer, he saw the passengers were all female and—shit.

At the wheel, Zoe laid on the horn as they approached, and from the back, Lacey’s daughter waved.

Tessa sat in the passenger seat, her expression unreadable as they slowed down next to his bike.

“You okay?” Zoe called out.

He nodded, grateful he hadn’t been on the phone with Henry when they came by. “Where you off to?” he asked, unable to tear his eyes from Tessa.

She responded with what appeared to be a shaky smile, lifting her shades so he got a good look at her eyes and read a mix of worry and—affection. Damn, she was feeling everything he was. Maybe more.

He had to make that call.

“Don’t ask where we’re going,” Tessa said, a note of wry humor in her voice. “I’ve been kidnapped.”

Zoe leaned over in front of Tessa. “He should know.”

“Know what?”

From the back, Ashley leaned forward. “We’re going shopping for a wedding dress!”

He blinked at that, the words hitting him harder than they should. “Really?”

“For Zoe’s dress,” Tessa corrected.

“But the love child makes it impossible to try on dresses,” Zoe added, tapping her belly. “Tessa’s my size, so she’s going to model for us.”

A slow smile pulled as an impression settled on his brain: Tessa in a long white gown. Pretty, pretty Tessa. “Not getting anything for our big event?” he asked.

Her color rose, but Zoe leaned in closer to answer. “I might let her borrow.”

Deeper. They kept getting in deeper. Now a dress was involved. Of course, this was his idea, so he should support it. “Sounds like fun.”

“What are you doing parked out here?” Tessa asked.

And here went one more lie. “Bike sounded weird, so I wanted to check it.”

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” Zoe asked.

“Clay could come and pick you up,” Lacey offered from the back, the offer so natural and genuine. Of course it was; they were friends now. He was part of their community.

He shook his head at the realization of how they’d all hate him once he disappeared. Even if he succeeded in persuading Henry to let him tell Tessa the truth, what would she tell them when he left?

Holy hell, he was in a bind. Henry had to help him. The safe phone practically burned a hole in his pocket.

“I’m fine,” he assured them. “You have a good time shopping, ladies.” He gave them a wave and stepped back, and, thankfully, Zoe threw the Jeep into Drive.

“We will!” she promised, hitting the accelerator and taking off, only Ashley turning around to wave good-bye.

The minute he was alone, he pulled out the phone and stared at it. The instructions for use of this had always been clear: Answer when Henry calls, and never call him first unless it was a life-or-death emergency.

He was pretty sure Henry would say this didn’t qualify, but screw that. He closed his eyes and saw the image of Tessa’s smile. He couldn’t go another day lying to her. She’d told him all her secrets the night before, and all that had done was make him care more for her. And hate himself.

Turning away to get the glare off the screen, he tapped the only number the phone was programmed to call. “What?” As suspected, Henry didn’t sound pleased to hear from him.

“I got a problem,” he said, slipping naturally into his native accent, which usually made his whole body relax. But not today. Henry was sure to put up a fight about this.

“They found you?” There was enough edge in the other man’s voice to let Ian know he wasn’t completely safe, not yet, anyway.

“No. No news on that front?” He had to ask.

“I’ll call you, mate. What’s wrong?”

“It’s this marriage thing.”

Henry barely grunted. “I thought you had that covered.”

“You told me to get it covered and I told you I’m working on it. But I—”

“You want your kids or not?”

Fuck it. He refused to even answer that. “What I want is to trust someone.”

A long silence.

“I really believe I can trust her, Henry. I know I can.” Did he, though? She’d shared a secret with him, but it wasn’t life-changing or, hell, life-ending. It was a little bit of dirty laundry, not the fact that he was living incognito to stay alive.

“You can’t afford to have a conscience, Browning.” Of course, Henry nailed it. “You can’t trust anyone. Believe me, I’ve seen this happen before, and it never ends well.”

It was Ian’s turn to be silent.

“And you also can’t afford to have feelings for someone,” Henry added.

Why did the man have to be so flipping smart? “Might be too late,” he admitted softly.

Henry sighed. “Look, mate, ultimately, it’s your call. I can’t force you to do anything. I can’t even force you to stay in this program. It’s voluntary, as you know. So you do what you have to do, but before you do it, I will counsel you to remember two things.”

“What?”

“Don’t you know?” Henry asked, sounding a little bewildered.

“No,” Ian admitted.

“Shiloh and Sam.”

His gut dropped at the thought of the two babies he needed to see and hold more than he needed his next breath.

“You leave this program or break our rules, they are off limits to you.”

“But just this once, I—”

“Not to mention,” Henry continued forcefully, “that it’s one thing to put yourself in danger, but it’s something else altogether to jeopardize your kids.”

Ian stared at the horizon, then closed his eyes, the horizontal slice of the sea against the sky burning his lids like a negative picture.

“We’re close, Ian, close to shutting down that gang. But we haven’t succeeded completely. Listen to me.” He lowered his voice as if he wanted Ian to press the phone closer to his ear and not miss a single word. “One of the two remaining members is Luther Vane’s younger brother, Darius.”

Luther Vane. Who had admitted he’d stabbed Kate ten times.

“So if you want to whisper one word of your history and identity, you remember that. It’s not about money for Darius Vane. It’s about taking out the guy who put his brother in jail, and, frankly, that’s a more dangerous motivator. You understand that, don’t you?”

He didn’t respond, the pressure of that reality too hard.

“Then let me remind you. Once N1L is shut down, you have a chance at getting your kids. A chance. Once you get them, you are still in a government protection program, and so are they, only you’ll take on another identity and live in another country as their father. There’s no getting around that. If Darius gets wind that you are alive and well and have your kids, he might stop at nothing for revenge.”

The truth actually hurt when it was spelled out like that. There was no room in his life for a woman. Even when he had the kids—he wouldn’t let himself think “if”—he couldn’t subject Tessa to a life under protection. A woman who recoiled at deceit? A woman whose whole personality was formed by her mother lying to her?

No, he couldn’t do that to her.

“Are you there?” Henry barked.

He was there…but dead inside. “Yeah.”

“Okay, then you heard me. For God’s sake, don’t let your cock or, hell, your feelings get in the way of that reality.”

He dragged out the word feelings like they were nothing but repulsive.

Ian blew out a breath. “I won’t.” The promise sounded vacant and weak, kind of like he felt right then.

“And I’ll keep you…” The rest of Henry’s sentence was drowned out by a loud truck engine coming up from town, on the other side of the road. Ian automatically turned away, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone, all his protective instincts on alert with the news that rang in his ears.

Luther Vane’s brother was out there—somewhere.

A door slammed and he had to turn, coming face-to-face with a bull of a man crossing the street. “Hey, dickhead!” the man called out.

“What the hell was that?” Henry asked.

Grace Hartgrave’s husband. Son of a bitch! “Nothing. I gotta go.”

“Remember those two things, mate. Oh—and for Christ’s sake, stay out of trouble.”

Ian tapped the phone and stood with his feet splayed as Hartgrave ambled over, silent, menacing, and really pissed off. Well, Grace’s parting shot had been “Fuck you.” And Ian had a feeling he was about to get fucked.

Hartgrave stopped about two feet from Ian, who didn’t say a word. They were about the same height, but the other man had marshmallow where Ian had muscle. He could kill Grace Hartgrave’s husband, but the last thing he ever wanted to do was land on the radar of local law enforcement.

“I talked to my wife.”

He should do more than talk to her; maybe then she wouldn’t throw herself at strangers. Ian just nodded.

“She said you made a pass at her.”

“She’s lying,” he said simply.

“Gracie don’t lie.” Beads of sweat formed on his oversized forehead, his face the flushed red of a heavy drinker.

Ian pressed his lips together, meeting his opponent’s narrow gaze. “She did this time.”

“You see her last night?”

“I saw her, but I didn’t see her.”

Hartgrave’s fist balled as he raised it. “See this, motherfucker?”

Ian didn’t look at the fist, instead hearing Henry’s parting shot. Stay out of trouble. “She was in the restaurant.”

“And you stalked her in the parking lot.”

“That’s not my version of the events.”

He took another step closer, his gaze flickering to the bike behind Ian, then back to Ian’s face. “You touch my wife, you’ll never see that motorcycle again.”

Ian nodded.

“It’ll be in the bottom of that bay.”

Another nod.

“With your dead body on it.”

Ire shot through his veins, the image of Luther Vane flashing in his brain at the threat. He wasn’t the least bit scared of this blowhard in front of him, but what if the N1L got to Hartgrave somehow? As preposterous as that seemed thousands of miles and an ocean away, what if Ian told Tessa the truth and she whispered it to a friend and that led to a stray comment? Really, how many degrees of separation was this man from Darius or Luther Vane?

Right then, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that no matter what he felt, how much guilt pained him, how hurt she’d be, he couldn’t tell Tessa the truth.

In fact, he had to do the opposite.

“Did she mention to you that I got engaged to Tessa Galloway?”

The other man frowned. “What? You just got here.”

Ian shrugged. “Love at first sight, my friend. She’s wedding-dress shopping right now. We’re hoping you and Grace make the beachfront wedding.”

He scowled, slowly lowering his fist. “That don’t mean you won’t try and get what you can from my wife before you got your own problems.”

Not bothering to argue, Ian shook his head. “I like what I have, pal.”

Hartgrave snorted. “You like what I have.” But the conviction was gone from his voice, and maybe a little bit of the threat. “Remember what I said.”

He took a few steps back and turned around to go to his truck, throwing one last glare over his shoulder at Ian, who stayed right where he was until Hartgrave’s truck had disappeared, taking any hope of telling Tessa the truth with it.