A Touch of Scarlet Page 0,1

would bring its own trial with it; so would the next day, and so would the next . . .

This was hopeless. I flung the book on the coffee table.

And then I got the strange sense that someone was watching me. I glanced out the window and saw Gray’s Jeep parked in the street. He was leaning against it in this casually sexy way, just waiting for me to notice him. We were kind of psychic this way that summer, deeply attuned to each other’s presence.

I jumped from the sofa and ran outside, a smile bursting across my face. We hugged like we hadn’t seen each other in weeks, and he spun me around in a circle before setting me gently down. Then he kissed me somewhat chastely given that we were standing in front of my house.

“You’re early,” I said.

“And you’re beautiful. I couldn’t wait another second.”

“But I’m not ready.”

“Then go and get changed. I can watch . . . I mean, wait.” He cracked a sly smile.

“Very funny,” I said. “Dad and Barbara are home.”

“Oh, Barbara loves me,” he said.

This was true. Over the summer, my stepmom Barbara had become Gray’s third-biggest fan, behind me and my grandma. Gray was polite, good-looking, and attentive, and he was joining a branch of the military, a major plus in Barbara’s book.

“Barbara may love you,” I said, “but my dad worries you’re going to steal my virginal innocence.”

“Rightly so,” he said, swooping in for another kiss.

I swatted him away. “Rein in those hormones, Mr. Coast Guard. It’s going to be all discipline and self-denial for you from now on.”

“Even more reason we should enjoy ourselves now.”

I rolled my eyes, but my insides melted. The truth was, I had been thinking about sex a lot. I never thought I’d be ready after dating someone for only three months, but things moved quickly when you saw someone every day. And I did love Gray. But there was something so weighty and scary about that word that neither of us had said it yet.

I grabbed Gray’s hand and led him inside the house. My dad was in the kitchen, going over finances. It had been a slow summer for him. Overfishing had led to dwindling numbers on stripers, cod, and flounder—my dad’s livelihood—not to mention, the heat of deep summer tended to slow down everything with fins. Fortunately, Barbara’s real estate venture was keeping us afloat. But my dad still fretted about money daily.

He barely looked up from his books to say hello. But Gray had been a familiar face this summer; my dad didn’t stand on ceremony. Barbara compensated for my dad’s chilliness. When she came out of the den-turned-office, she gave Gray a huge hug.

“Well, you’re looking handsome, Mr. Coast Guard,” she said, eyeing his crisp green shirt, khaki pants, and gray linen blazer. “Where are you two headed for the big birthday dinner?”

“Melville’s,” I said.

Barbara scrunched her nose in disdain. It was true Melville’s would hardly qualify as fine dining, but it had sentimental value. I loved it for its greasy fried food served in red plastic baskets and the tacky whale murals that covered every square inch of wall. Melville’s felt like home.

Knowing Gray was in good hands with Barbara, who could make small talk with a band of terrorists, I went upstairs to shower. I spritzed myself with perfume and put on a cotton floral dress that was as comfortable as it was pretty, then grabbed my espadrilles with the ankle laces, perfect for carrying when we went for our inevitable walk on the beach later.

When I went downstairs, I kissed my dad and Barbara good-bye. “Not too late, Emma,” my dad warned as we headed out the door. “Gray’s got an early start tomorrow. And you still have to finish that summer reading.”

He tried to veil his misgivings with a smile, but it didn’t work. I knew what he was really worried about. Guilt settled over my shoulders, but I shrugged it off. It was my birthday, and I wasn’t going to let my dad’s overprotectiveness ruin it.

At Melville’s, Gray and I shared a seafood dinner, followed by a giant piece of Oreo cheesecake topped with seventeen candles. Gray even had the waiters come over and sing “Happy Birthday.” I shook my head in mortification, but secretly I loved it.

When we came out of the restaurant a little after nine, the sun was already dipping out of sight, a sign that the days were getting shorter. The sky