Mirrored (Follow Your Bliss series Book 4) by Riordan Hall Deirdre

Author:Riordan Hall, Deirdre [Riordan Hall, Deirdre]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-08-03T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“Welcome to Brighton,” Alex said, pulling up along the beach and getting out of the car after the long drive. The salt air, the rushing waves, and the caw of the gulls washed away the antagonizing experience with the sedan and paparazzi.

Brighton quivered. “Your voice. It’s so sexy.”

“Brighton?” he repeated.

Her eyes went doe-y and she bit her lip.

“Brighton, Brighton, Bri—”

She pulled his head to hers and gave him a long kiss.

As they walked down the beach, Alex slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as if they belonged there together, as if the beach walk was routine, like they’d done it a hundred times before. Sand, stones, and shells formed an endless blanket in every direction. They were just in time to watch the setting sun melt into the horizon, liquid light fading to pewter.

Brighton thumbed the guitar pick with the coordinates for that exact place on the planet. She smiled, stretching onto her toes and pecking his lips. It was dark when they sunk into the still-warm sand, a kiss for every star in the sky. Alex found his way under her shirt and then lifted her skirt.

Their breath moved in and out with the waves, one deep, sea-breath after another cresting and receding. She unzipped his pants, groping in the darkness. They rocked there, in the cover of night, lips moving from chin, to cheek, to ear. Alex explored the terrain of her breasts until they reached that blissful place that made the light pouring from the shops, the blinking of the ships out at sea, and the blur of bulbs from the pier look like a kaleidoscope.

“I think I like Brighton,” she said when they brushed the sand from their clothes and snuck back to the sidewalk.

“Dinner? There’s a pub here that a certain El Holmes made famous. Are you up for it?”

Brighton nodded her head as if renewed, as if the salt-air blowing in from the ocean revitalized her, and the heat they’d exchanged energized her.

Seated at a table in the window of The Gull and the Fox Pub, the waitress brought menus. The covers were old vinyl record sleeves.

“I got the Cars,” Brighton said.

Alex flashed his menu. “The Clash. And over there, mounted prominently on the wall are all of Bang Bang’s albums.”

“I see they didn’t make the dinner menu cut,” Brighton said, laughing.

“After living in filth at that flat in Camden, and they’d collected some cash, El bought the manor up the road. Do you remember it?”

Brighton nodded vaguely as two baskets of fish and chips appeared. The waitress, a dowdy woman wearing a fraying apron, asked if they’d like anything else.

Just as Alex was about to ask for vinegar, the waitress squinted her eyes, “Wait a minute, I know you.”

He immediately lost his appetite, recalling the run in with the sedan earlier, rabid fans, and his inability to have privacy. He wondered if the road trip through Montana would have been a better idea.

“You’re Chaz’s son. My, you’ve grown up. I’m Milly.

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