Buried [Completed]

Chapter fourteen

Kyle had a friend with a vacation home thirty miles south on the one-oh-one. That was where they spent their wedding night. The house was on a private cove, with an ocean view and all the amenities including an outdoor hot tub.

Kyle had arranged for the delivery of a dozen roses and a bottle of Dom Perignon White Gold champagne. It was one in the morning by the time they arrived. Jamie kicked off her heels and headed straight for the wall of windows overlooking the ocean. It was too dark to see much, but even with the windows closed, she could hear the roar of the tide coming in. Kyle opened the champagne, brought her a glass.

"Mrs. Quinpool?"

The bubbles slid down her throat, effervescent with hope. She leaned on Kyle, they kissed.

"Upstairs?"

She nodded. They made love on the king-sized bed— windows open to the salty air, the thundering ocean. They had made love before, but with his children and their work schedules, opportunities to be truly alone had been rare. She loved having him all to herself. And waking up with him by her side the next morning was almost the best part. She'd rarely seen him with stubble. She touched the coarse hairs on his chin, his upper lip, his chin, again. His eyes opened.

"I need a shower."

She laughed, put her arms around him.

"Not yet, you don't."

Sadly, they only had a few more hours to themselves before they had to head back to Twisted Cedars. Muriel wanted to be on the road before dark. Jamie had invited her to stay a few extra days, but the prospect had seemed to make her nervous. So she and Kyle would just have to make the most of the little time they had.

* * *

Waking at dawn, Charlotte felt disoriented. Had last night really happened? It must have, or else she would be in her bed. But she wasn't.

She was sitting in her father's favorite chair, dressed in a robe, a bottle of scotch and a glass on the table beside her. Her head ached. Her stomach was queasy. She got up slowly, made her way to the bathroom, passing by the soggy pile of silk that had been the dress she'd worn to the wedding. She filled the tub with hot water. Her brain and her body both felt a little numb.

Last night one man had asked her to marry him and another had made love to her. All the excitement of her entire life packed into about four hours. It was more than one small town librarian could be expected to handle. Could she have imagined it? But no. The smell and feel of sex on her body was quite unmistakable.
Charlotte tossed her robe into the hamper then sank into the bath. As her muscles relaxed, her thoughts whirled. She had said no to Wade— would he be disappointed or relieved? Would they still date? Or just be friends? They had discussed none of this, though if he knew what had happened between her and Dougal, then she kind of thought the answer would be no on all counts.

As for Dougal... how on earth had it happened? One minute she'd been walking on the beach, having a good cry, just letting it all out. The next he was there. Reaching out his hand and touching her. She couldn't even say with certainty that he had made the first move. It was like they'd both had the impulse to kiss at the same time. And the biggest shocker of all... Despite the cold, the grit of the sand, the unforgiving hardness of the beach, that impromptu sex was the best she'd ever had.

* * *

Dougal woke shortly after nine. Instantly reached for his cell phone, which he'd placed next to the vintage alarm clock that had come with the place and still worked fine. He had to phone information to get Charlotte's home number. Fortunately she was listed.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice sounding rougher than he intended. Maybe he should have had a cup of coffee first.

"I'm fine. But rather busy right now."

Code for, what happened last night doesn't change anything between us. Dougal spoke the language, was more than ready to be let off the hook. Still, he thought about her quite a bit that day.