Page 96 of Ten Beach Road

Thirty-two

After a week of almost cloudless skies, it rained during the night. In the morning, they treated themselves to breakfast at the Seahorse, then walked in a light drizzle back to the house, where everyone but Avery climbed into Maddie’s van for a trip down to a Sarasota design center. Avery noticed that Nicole no longer quibbled about accepting a ride in what she’d dubbed the mother-mobile, but seemed perfectly happy to give up the shotgun seat to Deirdre.

As they backed down the drive and disappeared around the corner, it hit Avery that these onetime strangers were now among the handful of people she knew best. Alone, Avery walked around the house to the backyard. On the loggia she stared out over the repaired but still empty pool. Despite the raindrops that still fell, sweat pooled between her breasts and slid down the small of her back; her T-shirt clung like a damp rag. She would have liked to take a shower and stretch out on the couch in the pool house with the air-conditioning set on “igloo”; having the space to herself for a few hours would be completely heavenly. But she had work to do.

“Onward,” she muttered, throwing open the French doors to the salon, whose wood floor needed its final coat, and inhaled a face full of chemicals. Sputtering and gasping for breath, Avery turned her back on the room that had been shut tightly against the rain, hoping that at least some of the pent-up fumes would escape.

After drawing in a few deep breaths of fresh, if humid, air she eased out of her sneakers and stepped into the room in her white socks. The wood, laid inside a basket-woven brick border, already gleamed brightly. Just one more coat, she told herself, trying to keep her breathing shallow. One more coat and a day to dry and Bella Flora would be ready for humans again, as long as they wore white socks those first few days.

Carefully, she poured the polyurethane into the pan, which she’d set in the rectangular room’s far corner, and dipped the mop head into it. Gently she began to spread the protective layer, smoothing it on with the grain of the wood, spreading it as evenly as she could, as she worked her way back to the French doors.

The smell seeped into her nose with each breath, making her throat burn and her eyes water. As she squinted against the assault, she wished she’d thought to bring goggles and a mask. For a moment she imagined tears squeezing their way out and landing on the floor, possibly causing the wood to bubble. Would she be able to catch them before they landed? The thought made her smile.

She worked steadily, trying to concentrate on each stroke and each backward step, but the thoughts flitting around in her head began to flit more quickly and then began to border on the bizarre. She stumbled and used the mop handle to keep herself from falling into the still-wet polyurethane.

Outside a truck rattled onto the brick driveway. A single door opened and slammed shut. Chase materialized in her mind, contributing to an odd light-headedness. A cartoon heart drew itself before her eyes and thumped wildly, which struck her as hugely entertaining. She laughed out loud.

Still smiling, Avery took two steps back and pulled the pan of poly with her. Her lips felt larger than usual, her tongue too thick for her mouth. It slid out to smooth her dry lips, and she realized they’d automatically twisted up into a kind of loopy smile.

Chase’s footsteps crunched on the gritty concrete around the pool, and she stole a peek out the window. He stood contemplating the pass as she had earlier, his expression reflective. Then he walked to where the pipes for the steam heat system still lay exposed and crouched down to inspect them. Avery giggled.

Although he couldn’t have heard her, something made Chase turn toward the salon. His brow furrowed as he stood and looked her way. Avery pushed the mop back and forth a few times and giggled harder.

“Avery?” Chase’s voice sounded behind her.

Startled, she turned and teetered precariously, almost falling into the section she’d just finished. His hand shot out and wrapped around her upper arm to steady her. It was warm and firm, just as his lips had been. She glanced down at the patch of floor she’d just finished and knew she was lucky her socks weren’t now stuck to it. Then she turned and looked at him.

He smiled, and she burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” He leaned close to peer directly into her eyes. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, which made her head spin wildly. This, too, made her laugh. Chase looked at her as if she’d gone batty.

“Avery?” His hold on her upper arm tightened, and he reached across her to take the mop. “How long have you been in here breathing these fumes?”

She felt her eyes get big as he put the mop down and used both arms to lift her off the floor and cradle her against his chest.

“Don’t know,” she said, surprised when the laughter turned to tears, unable to make sense of what was happening. “But I can’t cry on the floor.” She looked up urgently. “It’s not good to let it get wet.”

The tears slid down her cheeks, but Chase carried her out of the room and onto the loggia before they could land. There he dropped onto the wicker sofa, still holding her against his chest with her bottom cushioned in his lap.

“Tha’s nice,” she said.

His chest rumbled beneath her ear, and she raised her head to look into his laughing eyes. “’S not funny,” she said as the tears continued to slide down her cheeks, dampening both of their shirts. “Don’t want to have to start over. Have to kill myself first.” She buried her face in his dampened T-shirt, her thoughts still swirling. “Hey,” she said in amazement. “You smell good.”

“You are completely blotto,” he said, setting his chest humming again against her ear. “That’s what happens when you try to seal a floor without proper ventilation.”

She wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but she liked the way his arms felt around her. She especially liked the feel of his chest rumbling beneath her ear, the safe feeling that enveloped her.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked but then went ahead without waiting for an answer. His lips felt even better than she remembered. And so did his tongue when she managed to locate it.

“Avery.” He pulled his mouth free but didn’t let go of her. “I don’t think . . .”

“Good.” She breathed him in and felt him all around her. “Don’t think.” She brought their lips together again and kissed him more fully, pressing her bottom into his lap. He hardened underneath her. “I’m not.” She moved her tongue to his ear while the rhythm of her blood whooshed in her own. “Can’t think right now. Don’t want to.” Her mouth formed the loopy smile that it apparently preferred. For fun, she nibbled on his earlobe and repositioned herself slightly so she could rub her chest against his. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

He groaned and shifted beneath her. “Jesus, Avery. You’re not going to like it when you wake up and realize . . .”

She stopped the words, which made no sense to her at all, with her mouth, kissing him until he finally shut up and kissed her back like she wanted him to. Thoroughly. Deeply. Completely.

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