“Okay. Stay home if you insist. But if you hear someone knocking on your window just before dawn you’ll know it’s me getting lonely.” He ran his hand through his hair, slicking it back from his face.
“You don’t strike me as the type of guy who gets lonely.”
“I didn’t think I was the sort of guy who could get used to waking up next to the same woman every day. But it turns out I am.”
She put her palm on his warm, damp chest, splaying out her fingers. “And I’m glad you are,” she said, her voice low. His heart beat strong against her hand, making her breath catch in her throat. When she looked up, he was staring down at her with those dark, needy eyes. It sent a thrill straight through her.
“You know what we said about public displays of affection?” he asked her.
“They’re okay, right?” She brushed her thumb against his tight nipple, making him gasp.
“I think I feel one coming on now.” He leaned down to brush his lips against hers, his hand cupping the back of her head. She flicked his nipple again and he groaned. “You need to stop doing that,” he murmured against her mouth. “Or I’ll take you home and tie you to my bed so you can’t leave.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She kissed him back, rolling onto the balls of her feet and looping her arms around his neck.
“It was a threat, not a promise.”
“Tomayto-tomahto.” She smiled against his lips.
A sharp trill came from a phone. She pulled away from him with a sigh. “Saved by the bell.”
“You or me?”
“I’m not sure yet.” She reached down to pull her phone from her purse, her brows pinching together when she saw it was her father calling. “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”
“Sure. I’ll put the boards in the truck.”
She flashed him a grateful look then swiped her finger across the screen, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. “Dad, hi.”
“Autumn.” His voice was clipped. “How is California?”
“Hot.” She looked over at Griff who was lifting the boards into the flatbed. He hadn’t put a shirt on yet, and she could see every muscle in his back rippling. “And busy. I haven’t had a moment to myself.”
“When are you putting the pier back on the market?”
He didn’t waste any time, did he? Autumn sighed, tracing circles in the sand with her pointed toes.
“I’m not putting it on the market. I’m going to do some upgrades and make it profitable first.”
“I looked at the financials. It’s going to take a long time to make that monstrosity profitable,” her dad said gruffly. “You’d make more money by selling it at a loss and reinvesting.”
She frowned. “How did you see the financials?”
“I know people, Autumn.”
She felt like a child again, being chided for telling untruths. “Well I don’t want to sell it. I have plans.”
“So Lydia tells me. Something about a charity day and weddings.” Her dad sighed. “Aren’t you bored of being in California? Don’t you want to come home where you belong?”
No, she really didn’t. The thought of it made her stomach twist. “I’ll come home when I’m ready.” She sat on the wall that separated the beach from the boardwalk, and looked out at the ocean. It was a perfect blue, dotted with heads bobbing up and down, and the white of surfboards as they caught the waves. The beach itself was just as busy, full of families and teenagers. At the water’s edge, somebody had set up a volleyball net, and there was a ferocious game taking place, the ball whizzing over the net at a fast speed.
“Lydia mentioned something about a man you’d made friends with.” Her father cleared her throat. “Who is he?”
Thanks, sis. Autumn sighed. She knew it wasn’t Lydia’s fault. Her sister couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. There was no way she was going to tell her father about Griff. He’d be calling a private investigator in a heartbeat, and running a full background check before the sun went down.
“You don’t?”
“No. There is no guy here. I’m just working hard on the pier, that’s all.” She glanced over at the truck. There was no sign of Griff. “Speaking of guys, why have you been talking to Josh?”
“I haven’t.”
“Yes you have. Lydia said she saw him in your office.”
Her dad chuckled. “Well we both know Lydia has her head in the clouds.”
That was it! The laugh. The one that he always did when he lied. Ugh, it was aggravating.
“Well that’s good, because I see no reason for you to be talking to my ex-husband.”
“I have a call on my other line,” her dad said abruptly. “I’ll speak to you next week. Maybe you could send through the details of the charity day to Annabelle for me. I’d like to make a donation.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“Oh and Autumn?”
“Yes?”
“Think about what I said. You need to come home to where you belong.”
“Bye, Daddy.” She ended the call and shoved her phone back in her bag, grabbing her t-shirt and shorts to pull on over her swimsuit. When she turned around, Griff was standing right next to her, twirling his truck keys around his finger.
“You shocked me.” She put her hand to her chest.
“Sorry.” He grinned sheepishly. “You want to grab some ice cream before I take you home? I’ll need the sugar to get through the night without you.”
“Ice cream sounds great.” She slid her arm through his. “And I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine tonight.”
18
“These are amazing,” Autumn looked up at Frank Megassey from the black and white photographs spread out on her desk. He’d brought a whole album of them over for their meeting. They showed the history of the pier in photographic detail, stretching from the day it opened in 1899, all the way to present day.
She was fascinated by the sepia images of women wearing long dresses, holding classy umbrellas over their heads as they strolled on the wooden structure. Men wearing bow ties and straw boaters played at stands to try to win prizes for their sweethearts. And at the end there was a fleet of fishing boats, their daily catch captured on shiny paper, buckets filled with fish for the local community to eat.
There was no Delmonico’s in the first photographs. No whale-watching boat, either. But the pier was full of life, nevertheless. A central part of the Angel Sands’ society.
“I have a lot of old photographs of the town,” Frank told her. “My wife tells me I should build a museum to show them all off.”
“You should.” She smiled at him. “People are fascinated by things like this.” She ran the pad of her thumb along her bottom lip. “Do you think I could borrow some for the charity day?”
Frank blinked. “Sure. What will you use them for?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll blow them up and frame them. Or have some actors in clothes like these,” she said, pointing to the Victorian ladies smiling into the camera. “I just like them.”