Sunset In Central Park Read online

  The knowledge shook him to the core.

  Her eyes opened. She looked at him for a sleepy moment and then her mouth curved into a sweet smile. “Are you watching me sleep? That’s boring.”

  Nothing she ever did could be boring.

  He wanted to join her in bed, but he didn’t trust himself not to say something that would freak her out.

  Knowing Frankie as he did, he knew it wouldn’t take much, and he didn’t want those barriers to go up again. He wanted her to stay like this. Unguarded. Trusting.

  “Get dressed. I’m taking you to dinner.”

  “We bought pizza.”

  “I’m not in the mood for pizza.” And he needed to get away from the cozy interior of the cabin, where the intimate cloak of darkness would make it all too easy to say something he knew she wasn’t ready to hear.

  “You mean like a date?”

  He dressed quickly, before he could change his mind. “It’s dinner. Label it any way that makes you feel more comfortable.”

  There was a pause and then she slid out of bed, her hair falling over her shoulders in fiery spirals. “It’s definitely a date.” She said it in a husky, slightly amused tone that played havoc with his willpower.

  He wanted to throw her straight back onto the bed, keep her there and never let her go.

  Shit. He was in trouble.

  “Great.” He backed toward the door, crashing into a small table. He caught the lamp before it fell to the floor. “I’ll be on the deck when you’re ready.”

  She gave a puzzled frown. “But—”

  “Don’t rush.” Matt walked into the door frame and Frankie winced.

  “Are you—?”

  “I’m fine.” His shoulder throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the rest of him.

  He strode out onto the deck and leaned over the railing, staring down at the ocean.

  Tonight it was calm, lapping at the beach in deceptively gentle waves. He contemplated diving into the chilly water, but Frankie emerged moments later.

  She was wearing a pair of close-fitting black jeans and a green silk top that made him wish he’d taken that swim.

  Instead, he drove her to the Ocean Club. The restaurant was crowded and lively and they were welcomed at the door by a pretty girl with a big smile.

  “Matt and Frankie? I’m Kirsti. Ryan told me you might be coming. He said I’d recognize Frankie because she has amazing hair. And he was right—you remind me of a pre-Raphaelite painting. I studied art at college,” she said by way of explanation. “We held a table for you, just in case. It’s busy everywhere at the moment, partly because it’s peak tourist season and partly because of the wedding, of course. You haven’t been back in ten years, is that right?” She beamed at Frankie. “I bet you’re glad to be home. If you can squeeze your way through the crowd, I’ll show you to your table.” She turned, ponytail swinging, and walked through to the far side of the restaurant where glass doors opened straight onto a spectacular terrace overlooking the beach.

  Matt felt Frankie’s hand slide into his and he turned to look at her. “Is this place all right for you?”

  “I love it.”

  “The comment about your hair didn’t upset you?”

  “She paid me a compliment. You taught me how to accept a compliment.”

  He’d taught her other things, too, like how to match the rhythm he set, how to trust her body, how to trust him.

  Her gaze lifted to his and he saw the same raw desire he was feeling reflected in her eyes.

  The noise around them faded. He could feel his pulse pounding.

  And he realized that coming here had been a mistake. They should have stayed in the privacy of their cabin, where he would have been free to do what he wanted to do without fear of being arrested. If they were living in the Stone Age he would have dragged her back to his cave and never let her leave.

  Frankie squeezed his hand, her eyes questioning. “We should go.”

  For a moment he thought she was suggesting they leave and he was about to agree when she gestured to Kirsti.

  “Yeah.” His voice sounded rough and unsteady and he saw Frankie frown slightly before she tugged at his hand and they walked to where Kirsti was waiting.

  “We have three big parties inside tonight so it’s a bit rowdy. This is better for a romantic evening. More intimate.”

  Great. Just when he was trying to dial down the intimacy, he was given moonlight and candles.

  He managed a nod. “It’s great. Thanks.”

  The table was set at the far end with stunning views over the bay. A candle flickered in the center of the table, and the scent of flowers filled the terrace.

  “The lobster is good.” Kirsti handed them menus. “So is the salmon. I’ll be back in a moment to take your order. You can start with a glass of champagne on the house, courtesy of the boss.”

  “Ryan’s giving away free drinks?”

  “Savor the moment. That’s what love does to you. Turns your brain to mush, so it seems. And it’s Friday night, too. It’s going to cost him a fortune.”

  Frankie picked up the menu. “Will you be at the wedding?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. I’ve been waiting for this to happen to Ryan for a long time. And I’m at least partly responsible for the fact he and Emily got together. Matching people up is my special gift and I always knew they’d be a perfect couple.” Kirsti left Matt and Frankie together, pausing by a neighboring table to scoop up a couple of empty glasses and exchange a few words with a young couple and then disappearing toward the crush at the bar.

  “She’s a romantic, like Eva. The two of them would be best friends in under two seconds.” Frankie scanned the menu. “I can’t believe Ryan remembered me. I only met him a couple of times.”

  “You’re more memorable than you think you are, Frankie.”

  She put the menu down. “Because my mom blazed a trail of destruction through the island.”

  “That’s not what I meant. The place has changed. Moved on, just as we have. Look around you.” He gestured with his head. “Do any of these people know what this place was like ten years ago?”

  “I guess not. This building was a wrecked boatyard when I was growing up. Ryan has transformed the place.”

  “He’s a smart businessman. This isn’t an easy place to make money but he’s tripled the number of visitors to the island since the Ocean Club opened. It’s good for the local economy.”

  Kirsti arrived back at their table. “Olives on the house.” She placed a small bowl in the center of the table along with their drinks.

  They’d finished ordering when Ryan appeared on the terrace.

  Matt rose to his feet and his friend clapped a hand on his shoulder.

  “Well, if it isn’t the city boy.” His greeting was warm. “We’re honored to have some New York style at our wedding.”

  He and Ryan had been at school together, met up infrequently when they were at college and had drinks whenever they were both back on the island.

  Ryan’s gaze settled on Frankie. “Still the same amazing hair.” He stepped forward and gave her a hug and then turned to Kirsti. “Just checking you’re not wrecking the place in my absence.”

  “You shouldn’t be here! How’s Emily? You’d better hope that baby doesn’t come before the wedding.”

  Judging from his relaxed expression, Ryan wasn’t too worried. “I hope it doesn’t, too. We can’t cope with extra guests. We already have half the island coming.”

  “More than half. Tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day and the beach is the perfect place to get married.” Kirsti patted his shoulder. “Go home. Get some sleep. That’s going to be in short supply soon.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” The two of them vanished toward the kitchen and Matt watched as Frankie picked up her drink and stared out to sea. The soft expression on her face was gone.

  All it took was the word wedding, he thought.

  “Can I ask you something?”


  “Sure.” There was a pause as Kirsti brought over their food and set the plates down on the table.

  Matt waited for her to move away before he carried on talking.

  “When I asked you to come here that night in Central Park you said no. You were adamant that you didn’t want to do it. And then you changed your mind. Why?” It was something that had been puzzling him.

  She lowered her drink. “It was because of Eva.”

  “Eva persuaded you it was a good idea?”

  “No. It was a misunderstanding.” She gave a wry smile. “We were talking, and somehow she got the idea that I’d said yes to you and she saw it as an example of facing your fears. For some reason she sees me as an inspiration for doing tough stuff. Can you believe that?”

  “Why didn’t you tell her she’d misunderstood?”

  “How could I? Ev is struggling right now. She misses her grandma terribly. She’s grieving.” She was silent. “Look, I know I’m a fake. I’m not brave at all. I’m a coward. I’m not here because I want to face my fears. If it were up to me I’d happily carry on hiding from them. I’m here because knowing I’m doing something hard apparently helps my best friend get out of bed in the morning. That’s all it is. It’s not a big deal.”

  How could she think that? “I’d say doing the thing you find hardest because you think it will help your friend is a big deal.”

  “I’m still not convinced I should show up to the actual event. I don’t want to ruin the wedding.”

  “Why would you ruin the wedding?”

  “I’m not good at weddings, Matt. I know most people think they’re happy events, but I don’t see it that way. You probably think I’m crazy.”

  “I think you’re someone who has seen the fallout of a bad relationship more than you’ve seen the good. And you saw it at an age where it made a big impression. If you’d been older, you might have had more examples to balance it out.”

  “I’ve stopped counting how many relationships my mother has had. Every time I see her break up with another man it reinforces my belief that relationships don’t stick.” She sighed. “Which brings us back to the wedding. What do I say to the bride and groom?”

  “You just say that you hope they’ll be happy. I assume you do hope that?”

  “Of course I hope they’ll be happy. It’s just that—”

  “You don’t believe they will?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve seen it go from dizzy delight to dreadful too many times to be able to have faith in it.” She glanced at him. “This is the part where you tell me your parents have been together for almost three decades, just to prove I’m wrong.”

  “I’m not going to tell you something you already know. You’re a smart woman, Frankie. There are plenty of examples of love out there, but when you’ve seen something different I guess that’s what’s in your head. It’s hard to shake that off.”

  And that, he knew, was the biggest obstacle in their relationship.

  “That’s it exactly. That bride-to-be at the event a few weeks ago—she looked as if her life had crumbled around her. It reminded me of my mom after my dad walked out. Let’s change the subject.” She finished her champagne. “There’s something I want to ask you. It’s personal.”

  “I think I’ve already proved I don’t have a problem with personal.”

  “Yeah, well, this is uncomfortable personal, not intimate personal.” She hesitated. “You probably don’t want to talk about it.”

  Tension rippled across his shoulders. “You want to ask me about Caroline.”

  “You were engaged.”

  “Yes. Until she had an affair with her college professor.” It wasn’t his favorite topic of conversation, but he didn’t want her to feel there was anything she couldn’t ask him. “It’s not a secret, Frankie.”

  “Did you think about taking her back?”

  It didn’t mean anything, Matt. I was stupid. I want you to forgive me.

  “For about five seconds, which was how long it took for my brain to kick in.”

  “Because of the affair?”

  “Because she lied about it.” He thought about the lies, the evasion, the complicated games. “If a person is willing to lie to you once, how can you ever be sure they won’t lie to you again? The trust was gone. If there’s no trust between two people, what is there? No relationship is perfect. No matter how much love there is, there’s a strong chance you’re going to hit rocky times at some point. Life is unpredictable. It can throw out the unexpected and the challenging. Coping with that requires trust and honesty.”

  “So she broke your heart, crushed it under her shoe, but still that hasn’t put you off relationships.”

  He understood what she was asking. “That one relationship didn’t work out, but that doesn’t mean relationships never work out. One single experience isn’t representative of all of them.”

  “I wish I could feel that way.”

  “I was lucky enough to see plenty of examples of good, solid relationships growing up. My parents, my aunts and uncles—I didn’t have your experience.”

  “Aren’t you worried you might get hurt again?”

  “If I’m hurt, I’ll handle it.” His gaze held hers. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad you decided to come this weekend.”

  “So am I.” Frankie rested her chin on her palm and stared out across the ocean. “Would you ever move back here?”

  “No. I don’t want to live in a place where someone holding hands with someone else is a major news story. And anyway, I love the city. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love visiting this place.” He glanced out at the bay, at the boats and buoys bobbing. “It has a lot of good memories for me. A lot of firsts happened here. First time sailing, first time surfing, first time kissing a girl.” That brought a smile to her face.

  “Who was she?”

  “That question I’m not answering.”

  “You’re such a gentleman.”

  “We’ll pretend that’s the reason, because then I won’t have to confess that it’s because I was embarrassingly clumsy and bad at it.”

  “Can’t imagine that.”

  “It was a while ago. I’ve learned a thing or two since then.” They’d spent time together before but now everything was infused with a new layer of awareness and meaning.

  Frankie put her fork down. “Can we go?”

  “Now? You don’t want dessert or coffee?”

  “Yes, but I want other things more and it’s all about priorities.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth and Matt felt the intense heat of arousal rush through his body.

  He stood up, reached for his wallet and dropped some bills on the table. “Let’s go.” He reached for her hand, clamped her by his side and walked through the restaurant as quickly as he could without knocking over tables.

  At the bottom of the steps, he turned right instead of left.

  “Where are we going?” Frankie kept pace with him. “The car is the other way.”

  “We’re not going to the car. We’re going to the beach.”

  “The beach?”

  “You’ve never had sex in the cave. We’re going to fix that.”

  “What? We can’t!” She gave a disbelieving laugh and dug her heels hard into the ground. “Matt, we’re not seventeen.”

  “Be grateful for that. It took me five fumbly minutes to get a girl out of her bra when I was seventeen. My moves are much smoother now.” He pulled her in and lowered his mouth to hers. This time there was no resistance, no hesitation. She kissed him back until the blood was pumping in his brain. He felt her press against him and reluctantly he lifted his head. “Can you run in those shoes?”

  “If I need to.”

  “You need to. I don’t mind everyone in the Ocean Club guessing why we’re leaving our meal half-eaten, but I’d rather they didn’t actually witness it.” Locking her hand in his, he led her down the path to the beach.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this. When did you last have sex on this b
each?”

  “Honestly? I’ve never had sex on this beach but I’ll try anything once.”

  They reached the sand and she stopped. “Eva will kill me if I ruin these shoes.”

  “Take them off.”

  “No way! I’ll hit my foot on a rock and have to be flown back to the mainland for surgery. The whole island will know it was because I was on the beach having sex. I do not want to be anyone’s cheeky headline.”

  “I’ll carry you.”

  “If you do that you won’t be able to see where you’re going. Agh!” She squeaked in surprise as he lifted her and threw her over his shoulder.

  “Put me down!” Laughing, she thumped his back with her fists. “Matt! You’re behaving like a caveman.”

  “A man who is about to have sex in a cave is entitled to behave like a caveman.” He strode across the beach, the wash of light from the Ocean Club above them illuminating the sand. He crossed South Beach, scene of numerous lobster bakes and drunken teenage parties and headed to the adjacent cove.

  The sounds of the Ocean Club were drowned out by the sound of sea on sand, and he paused by the entrance to the cave and pulled off Frankie’s shoes.

  Only then did he lower her feet onto the sand.

  Unbalanced, she grabbed the front of his shirt. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “No talking. Me Tarzan, you Jane. Get inside the cave.”

  “Tarzan lived in a jungle. What if someone else is in here?” She peered into the darkness.

  “There isn’t. They banned sex in here a few years ago after the lifeboat crew had to rescue a couple of naked teenagers who lost track of time and almost drowned. There was a town meeting where they tried to decide what to put on the sign. ‘No sex, high risk of drowning’ was voted out in favor of ‘No nighttime bathing.’”

  “So we’re not supposed to be here?”

  “We’re breaking every rule in the book. How does that feel?”

  “Surprisingly good.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve spent my life trying to live down my family’s reputation but tonight I intend to live up to it.”

  He smiled, loving this new side of her. “Who are you and what have you done with Frankie?”

  “Are you complaining?”