Second Chance in Paradise Read online

“Wow.”

  “And Daddy says after I graduate from college and I’m ready, I can open my own boutique at the resort.”

  I looked at Porter to see what he thought of that. His wide eyes said he was surprised, but more than that, I think he was hurt. He craved that same approval from his father.

  Charlotte didn’t seem to notice. “You can look through that while Porter and I make my posters.” She hopped off the couch, full of energy.

  I did just that even though fashion wasn’t my thing. I had to say she had talent. There were a few outfits she’d drawn that I could even see myself wearing, though they would probably be too pricey.

  Charlotte noticed the silence between Porter and me, and neither of us could answer her question of why we weren’t speaking. As soon as I was finished flipping through her sketchbook, I finished editing her report. I needed some time alone to think. That’s when I made my escape.

  ~*~

  I realized now why it was so easy for me to never feel anything. I always had something to do. Something to distract me. I could get lost for hours and hours in research. But now, if only I could take a walk on the beach, that would be something. Maybe tomorrow, if my ankle was up to it.

  Instead, I sat in the middle of the plush bed, consumed with thoughts and feelings, staring at the rose Porter had given me on the nightstand. A floodgate had opened; tears poured down my cheeks. Never had I cried like this. I wasn’t even sure what I was crying about. Was it for things lost? Or the realization that I’d hurt Porter? Perhaps I was right and I would never have love in my life. That prospect now frightened me; it probably always should have, but I’d known so little of it and I’d forgotten what it was like.

  And I was even more haunted now by the thought that I’d never told Porter that I loved him. I’d been afraid it was one of the reasons he left or moved on. And I was right.

  I threw myself against the bed and curled up into a ball. I wasn’t sure I liked having feelings. Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon . . . I had to stop this. I couldn’t keep hiding behind my coping mechanisms. My life up to that point had been one big one. I had to allow myself the opportunity to feel, even if it hurt. The question was, why did I hurt so much? I don’t know how long I lay there, but it felt like hours. For someone who knew so much, I felt as if I knew nothing.

  Then a light went on—literally—in the bathroom.

  I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair that had fallen out of the side bun. I stared at the door and listened. I could tell he was trying to be quiet. It didn’t surprise me. He’d always been considerate. I knew then I had to do one of two things, get over Porter once and for all, or give him a second chance. Either way, it involved getting to know him again.

  I inhaled and closed my eyes. My cerebrum wanted to hide behind each and every fact I could recite. My heart refused to be ignored, though. It demanded I heal it one way or the other. I owed it at least that after everything we’d been through together.

  “Porter,” I called in a voice that didn’t sound like my own. I didn’t feel brave enough, but somewhere I’d found the courage.

  I heard him turn the water off, but he didn’t respond. Maybe he thought he was hearing things.

  I sat up a little taller, my heart begging for me to try again. I was about to until the doorknob turned, and a sliver of light shined through.

  “Holland,” he spoke softly, “are you okay?”

  For once I owned my feelings. “Not really.”

  The door flew open. There he stood with only his dress pants left on. “Is it your ankle? Can I get you something?”

  I shook my head. You can do this, my heart reminded me. “I know it’s late, but can we talk?” My bedside clock read 1:52.

  He didn’t even have to think about it. Before I knew it, he joined me in the middle of the bed. He leaned on one hand, and with the other touched my cheek.

  “Have you been crying?”

  I probably had a black ring around my eyes since I’d failed to take my makeup off. I wasn’t used to wearing it. I used my fingers to wipe under my eyes. “I must look awful.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible.” His eyes burned bright in the semi-darkness.

  “Porter—”

  “Holland,” he interrupted, “I’m sorry about tonight. I shouldn’t have—”

  “You don’t need to apologize.” It was my turn to interrupt him. “I needed you to know how I felt back then, but there are some other things I need to tell you.”

  He edged closer, eager to listen.

  I could feel the heat emanating off him. Not sure it was helping the situation, but there was no denying how beautiful he was. I had to keep my eyes from drifting down to admire his chest. I took a soul-bearing deep breath in and out. It wasn’t working. My words were getting stuck somewhere between my heart and mouth.

  Porter took one of my hands and held it between his own, ever patient.

  The knot in my throat loosened. “When I met you, you opened the door to a whole new world for me. A world where love existed. Before you, I don’t remember anybody loving me, not even my family.”

  His jaw clenched at the mention of them.

  “There was no one to teach me how to love or even what it really meant, so when you began expressing your love verbally, I was on one hand happier than you can imagine, but I couldn’t reciprocate because I didn’t know love. All I’d known my whole life was neglect and indifference. What I experienced with you was the exact opposite, but I didn’t know if that was love.”

  I had to take another breath and draw some strength from his tender eyes.

  “I could tell that you were disappointed each time I didn’t reciprocate. You don’t know how bad I wanted to, but I needed to know for sure. I researched online and at the library about love, trying to figure it out.”

  He chuckled, not surprised.

  “It got me no closer to knowing, but then, remember the night we spent out under the stars on the dunes?”

  “One of the best nights of my life.”

  “Mine too,” I whispered. “Lying in your arms that night while you told me stories of each constellation, I realized there wasn’t a right or wrong answer. I could decide what love was, and if what I felt for you wasn’t love, it had to be something better. But what is better than love?”

  Porter stroked my cheek. “Nothing,” he breathed between us.

  “That’s what I thought too. I knew then I had fallen in love with you. And I wanted to tell you. I tried so many times.”

  “But?”

  I made myself keep eye contact with him. “Besides being nervous, I knew that summer something had changed between us. Sometimes you were so distant.”

  “Holland—”

  “Please let me finish.” I wasn’t sure how long my courage would hold out.

  He nodded.

  “I wondered if part of the reason was because I never told you how I really felt and maybe you felt rejected. But I think more than anything, it made sense. We came from two different worlds. I didn’t want you to think I was making some desperate attempt to hold on to you. But by the end of the summer, I needed to tell you for my own good. I needed you to know, regardless of how things ended up, what you meant to me. What you had done for me. You changed my life,” I choked out.

  The sheen of mist in his eyes made my own tear up.

  “In an instant though, it was all gone. You were gone.”

  He said nothing, just like that night, except this time he pulled me to him with urgency and cradled my body against his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him like I’d clung to his memory over the years.

  There we stayed, wrapped up in each other surrounded by semi-darkness until the early morning hours. The faint light that lingered from the bathroom was like the tiny shred of hope in my heart that was done being ignored. It was fighting its way through the dark, telling me I deserved love as much as anyone. And despite my life’s circumstances, I was cap
able of giving it.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It didn’t feel like I’d slept very long when I woke up in the same arms I had fallen asleep in. Only we were lying down, my head resting against his chest. I wasn’t sure when that happened. I could think of worse places to find myself, but none any better. When my eyes fluttered open and my head tilted up, a pair were already staring back at me.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t care.” He drew me up and closer, so both our heads rested against the same pillow. He touched my face and ran his fingers through my hair. His fingers glided silkily down my bare arm. I’d never changed out of the dress I’d worn the night before. It was as if he was making sure I was really there.

  “Did you sleep at all?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I didn’t want to miss a minute with you, and I had a lot to think about.”

  “Sleep deprivation isn’t good. It allows too much cortisol to be released, which will make your skin collagen breakdown. And it prevents the human growth hormone from releasing at night. You need that to repair your—”

  “Shhh.” Porter smiled and put his finger to my lips. “I’ll be okay.” He outlined my lips with his finger. It seemed more intimate now when he did it, lying in bed together in the dark. It made me ache to kiss him, to do other things.

  I regrettably removed one of my hands from his chest and took hold of his hand wreaking havoc on my senses before I did something prematurely.

  “Was that bothering you?”

  “Quite the contrary.”

  Our fingers intertwined. We held our clasped hands steady between us.

  His bright smile shined in the dark. “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined waking up with you like this.”

  “You never slept,” I teased.

  “I’ll try and catch a few Z’s, but first I have some things I need to say to you.”

  I waited while taking in the view. I admired his thick, long eyelashes, though his red eyes pricked my heart. They weren’t only red due to the lack of sleep. They wore the mark of someone who had been crying. Despite that, he didn’t seem unhappy; in fact, there was a hopeful glint playing in his eyes. The forlornness of the previous night had all but disappeared. His next statement may have given a clue as to why.

  “Did you know that you make little hiccup sounds when you sleep?”

  “I do not.”

  “You do, and it’s the most adorable thing ever. You are the most adorable thing ever.”

  “I don’t know about that, but I hope my nonexistent hiccups didn’t keep you up.”

  He sighed, erasing most of his smile. “You gave me a lot to think about last night. I knew I was a jerk for leaving you the way I did, but the way you looked at me that night has tormented me, and not only because I knew I hurt you, but because there was something in your eyes that cut me to my center. Until last night, I could never put a word to it. I thought maybe it was hate because that’s what I wanted it to be. You should have hated me for what I did to you. But it was worse; it was love, and I stole that from you.”

  That was exactly how I felt.

  “I don’t even deserve to be in the same room with you, much less the same bed.”

  “That’s probably true.” I grinned.

  He pulled up our clasped hands and pressed his lips against mine for several seconds. “Yet here you are, and God help me, I want you to stay, despite what I did to you. To us. But say the word and I’ll leave.”

  I snuggled closer to him. “You’re right, you did take something from me, but you gave me far more than you’ll ever know. All these years I’ve tried to forget how much that meant to me. I’ve tried to forget about you. It’s the first thing I’ve failed at. And I hate failing.”

  His grin was back.

  “Last night I realized some things, too. Any time I’ve ever conducted an experiment that didn’t go as expected or when the research I’ve done didn’t add up to what I thought to be true or at least something close to it, I would redo the experiment or dig in deeper to see what I missed or to prove to myself I was wrong. The way you left has never added up. It didn’t reflect the person I knew.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I need to dig deeper. I need to know if I was wrong about you so I can move forward one way or another, with or without you.”

  “My vote is for with.”

  “You can’t know the conclusion before the experiment is conducted.”

  “Holland, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew how our story was supposed to end, even though I’ve done my best to screw it up.”

  “You definitely get an A for that. But the truth is, we don’t know how this will end.”

  His impassioned eyes blazed. “I do.”

  “Regardless, I have to conduct my own experiment.”

  He pulled me flush against his body. “Then let’s get experimenting.”

  “Not that kind of experimentation.” I gave a minuscule effort to put some distance between us.

  He leaned away laughing. “What kind of an experimenter do you think I am?” He mocked being offended.

  “The kind with a Y chromosome.”

  “Guilty as charged. Can I at least kiss you?”

  I took a moment to pause. “I suppose for scientific purposes we’ll have to. If not, the data would be inconclusive.”

  He leaned his forehead against mine. “There you go, turning me on again with your science talk. Is there anything else you’d like to say to me before I share my testosterone with you?”

  “Did you know—”

  I guess he really didn’t want to know; his lips consumed mine before I could tell him that water could boil and freeze at the same time. It’s called the triple point, and it occurs when the temperature and pressure is just right for a substance to coexist in thermodynamic equilibrium. But who really cared?

  Porter’s body melded with mine and our lips seemed to melt together like chocolate in the sun, hot and sweet. His hand ran down and up the length of my body before landing in my hair and tangling itself up. My fingers explored his tight chest and shoulders, all while his mouth traveled over my mouth and down my neck, making me gasp and shiver. He matched my gasp with a groan and kissed me as deeply and thoroughly as he could. My senses exploded; it was almost as if I could feel the rush of adrenaline releasing from my adrenal glands. The bonding hormone, oxytocin, was in force and doing a fantastic job.

  Out of nowhere, Porter pulled away and inhaled deeply, throwing himself back against the pillow.

  He exhaled loudly. “We need to quit experimenting for a while before we cross a line that shouldn’t be crossed right now.” He turned his head to meet my gaze. We were both breathing harder than normal. He answered the question in my eyes. “I want you to know that you aren’t only some physical pursuit for me. I know you won’t believe it and I know you don’t feel the same way, but I love you, Holland. I always have. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you I’m in earnest, even if that means keeping my hands off you.”

  I wiped the tear at the corner of my eye. It had been a long time since I’d heard those three words that had been like a rare gem, elusive but worth searching for.

  “You aren’t going to keep them completely off me, right?”

  He chuckled before wrapping me up and holding me as if I was that priceless gem to him. “Does this mean the experiment was successful?”

  “I’ll have to analyze the data,” I spoke against his chest, “and most likely redo it. Probably several times. You know, to make sure. I like to be thorough.”

  “This is excellent news.” He tenderly rubbed my back. “How about we get a few hours of sleep and then we spend the day experimenting.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “Sweet dreams,” he said through a yawn.

  I had a feeling they would be.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Sorry a
bout my family this morning.”

  I cringed on my lounge chair. I was finally getting a day on the beach. It was needed after the morning we had.

  “It’s fine. Nothing like a little humiliation and contraception lecture to start your day.”

  Charlotte wanted Porter’s opinion on which candy she should hand out today. The “Be a ‘SweeTart’ and vote for Charlotte” attached to SweeTarts, or “Rock the Vote for Charlotte” on the Pop Rocks. When she didn’t find him in his room, she took it upon herself to come through the adjoining bathroom and, without knocking, opened the door to my room. There she found us “sleeping” together.

  I woke up to this, “Porter, if you’re going to have sex with your girlfriend, you should at least lock the door.”

  I sat up with a start while Porter sat up lazily. “Or maybe you should knock.” He failed to mention we weren’t actually having sex.

  And before I could counteract what he’d said, she was off yelling down the hall to her parents that she caught us in bed together.

  Mr. Clairborne’s voice carried through the house, telling Charlotte just because her brother was having sex didn’t mean she could. To make matters more fun he yelled, “Just because you’re old enough to have sex doesn’t mean you should. I hope you used protection. Babies are a big responsibility.”

  “Beau!” Natalie scolded. I thought she was going to end it there, but no, she only made it more fun. “I would love a grandbaby.”

  That comment led to a lecture for Charlotte about how under no uncertain terms was she to have sex or get pregnant before she was forty-five.

  The worst part was when Mr. Clairborne loudly mentioned he was disappointed that Porter had set that example. Porter didn’t appreciate being talked about like that and jumped out of bed to tell his dad the truth and defend my honor, in a matter of speaking. He even went as far to say that he was more than capable of supporting a wife and child. The conversation got heated, which upset Natalie. She could be heard crying, telling her husband he was only pushing their son away. Doors were slammed, and I wanted to crawl under the covers and die.