A/N: This chapter contains explicit sexual content.
July 18. On Tuesday afternoon, he and Joey arrived at the Hideaway about half an hour before the start of their shift, and Christine, the bartender, unlocked the door and let them inside. While Joey went over to the hostess stand, he made his way to the back. The cooks were busy prepping for the impending rush, but they smiled upon his entrance into the kitchen and greeted him enthusiastically.
"And how was your day, Witter?" Steve greeted from the kitchen doorway.
He turned and smiled, thoughts of his girlfriend swirling around his head, an image of her sitting beneath a palm tree in an emerald green bikini with her sketch pad and colored pencils vivid in his mind. "It was pretty cool. How about yours?"
"Had a business meeting that lasted longer than I would've liked, but other than that it was good. James Moore said he'll be stopping by later tonight, so keep on the lookout. I've seen enough of him today, honestly."
"Okay." Although he had heard a lot about him over the past week, he had yet to meet this illustrious Mr. Moore and found himself somewhat curious. He followed his boss into a small office. Steve sat behind a desk and picked up the phone. After Danny Brecker answered, he put the call on speakerphone. For the next fifteen minutes, he listened as Steve reported to the owner everything from the kitchen staff, to menu choices, to inventory recently purchased. As usual, Steve waited until the very end to discuss any problems with customers or employees.
This had become their regular routine since James Moore had showed up in Key West. An increasingly irritated Steve would call the owner to discuss the daily business of running the restaurant while he sat and listened quietly. "I know you hate doing this," Danny said through the speaker. "And you know I trust you, right, Steve?"
"Yeah, yeah," his boss grumbled.
"It's just while James is there because God knows he'll be calling me and expecting me to know the day-to-day shit. Is Pacey Witter there with you?"
He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm here."
"Good. Are you learning anything, kid?"
"Yes, sir."
"Glad to hear it. Steve tells me you have great potential. Too bad you're not sticking around."
He smiled as a satisfied feeling rose inside him. "Uh… thanks."
After the call ended, he left the office. He then slipped on an apron and headed out of the kitchen. "Anything in particular you want done first?" he asked Steve, who'd followed him out front.
"Glasses. Wipe all the tables and chairs, sweep the floor, straighten up for the rush."
"You got it, boss."
He worked in silence while his gaze often drifted to Joey, who was greeting the day's first customers. He loaded all the glasses onto the shelves behind the bar, aware of Steve at the other end, chatting with a pair of tourists about the area's best flats fishing and where they could hire a guide. He moved on to the tables and chairs, aware of time passing, and that the trickle of customers entering the restaurant would soon be a surge. The Hideaway wasn't a large place, but it was a busy one. Joey waited on a couple guys drinking shots and beer. Locals, he recognized. They came almost every day, always together and always wearing Florida Gators caps. They'd flirt shamelessly with Joey and would laugh heartily at her sarcastic barbs. They were also some of her best tippers.
Business grew brisk. He bounced around between the kitchen and the dining room and bar, stocking, serving, washing, cooking. While back in the kitchen cleaning and prepping some fish filets for a group of tourists who brought in their catch for the day, Steve popped his head in the door. "Witter, when you get done with that, come out here. There's someone who wants to speak with you."
Curious, he finished the task wondering who in the world would want to talk to him. After washing his hands and untying the apron from his waist, he walked out of the kitchen. From behind the bar, Steve nodded at a table where a man was sitting alone and drinking from a bottle of beer. Although clad in dockers, a short-sleeved Polo shirt, and sandals, the man almost seemed too clean-cut and formal for Key West. As he moved closer to the table, he recognized the man as being the same one who'd approached him and Joey at La Concha the week before.
"Mr. Pacey Witter," the man greeted, standing up from the table and stretching out his hand. "I'm James Moore. Glad we can officially meet."
"Hello." They shook hands. The man motioned for him to join him at the table, and he sat down. "What did you want to see me about?"
"I'm hearing good things." Mr. Moore smiled. "Danny's name may be out front, but I like to hear good things about it as I am part owner of the place."
"Which part?" he quipped dryly.
His mouth curved into a smirk. "Twenty percent."
He stared, swallowing, and nodded.
"Steve is quite pleased with you, as are the customers. Danny seems to be as well. He said as much to me earlier."
"That's good to hear. Thanks, Mr. Moore."
"Call me James. So, you didn't want to try your hand at waiting tables like your girlfriend?"
He chuckled. "Joey's much cuter than me. She actually gets good tips."
Mr. Moore grinned. "Plenty of ladies in here would probably tip you handsomely. The men, too, I imagine."
"Nah. I'll stick to the grunt work."
"Anyway, Pacey, I was wondering what your long term plans are. Steve tells me you're only in Key West for another couple of weeks or so?"
"Yeah. We're leaving at the end of the month and sailing back north. We need to be home by Labor Day Weekend."
He took a final swig from his beer, placing the empty bottle down on the table. "Okay. Well, keep up the good work. I hope we can speak again before you leave."
They stood up and shook hands, and Pacey watched as Mr. Moore set some cash on the table and then walked out through the door.
As the evening progressed into night, the restaurant stayed fairly busy, but at least the mad dinner rush was over. At midnight, the Hideaway closed. The remaining customers paid their bar tab and left. The kitchen staff trickled out, and finally Steve. For the first time, he and Joey were given closing duties; they had to wipe, sweep, and mop the entire place before locking up for the night.
Joey stepped into the kitchen to find Pacey wiping down the counters. He wore one of his gray tank tops, having discarded his Hawaiian shirt with the print of silhouetted palm trees against a sunset backdrop. She stared at him for a long moment. Sweat beaded his brow as he worked. With a diet consisting mostly of seafood combined with their active island lifestyle, he'd grown quite lean over the summer and his arms more muscular. He had also become very tan and it only enhanced his sexy good looks. He was a man's man—comfortable and self-assured.
He turned around. She looked up to meet his eyes. His gaze sent her senses tingling. Desire rose rampant in her whole body; she longed to reach out and touch him, feel the warmth of his skin, the strength beneath, have his hands touch her again, experience more of his hot kisses on a tropical day.
"Everything's clean out front, Pace," she said, moving further into the kitchen to stand beside him.
"I just have to mop the floor and we can go." He gazed at her, taking in her dilated pupils and the passion filling her eyes. Heat surged through his blood. "Joey, have I told you that you look cute in Key West?" He smirked. "But what am I saying? You've looked cute everywhere up and down this coast. And if I had to hazard a guess, I'd wager you'd look pretty damn cute on the other coast, too."
"Well, maybe we'll go there someday and you'll find out." Her face flushed and she licked her lips. He chuckled softly, tilting her chin up with his finger. His eyes danced down at hers, and her heart beat faster. Her chin burned from his touch and she dropped her gaze to his lips, longing for his kiss.
With his fingertips, he traced along Joey's face. Her cheekbone, her brow, her jaw. Her full, luscious bottom lip. Remembering their passion-filled make out sessions over the past week, need rose fierce and warm inside him. His hand slid from her face and slipped behind her head to exert only a tiny bit of pressure as he closed the distance between them. His pulse raced, his blood heated, and he saw an answering flare of desire in her eyes. She was sweetness and flame, softness and spice.
The first touch of Pacey's lips on hers set fire to her blood. Heat surged through her veins, pressure rushing low to pool at her center. He kissed her gently, offering instead of demanding as his lips moved over hers with firm, yet soft insistence. She knew they should stop this before it went too far, seeing as how they were at their workplace and not in the privacy of the boat, but her need was spiraling out of control. She wanted him to touch her.
He ran his tongue along the line of her lips, seeking entrance to her mouth. Joey answered his silent plea, parting her lips with a soft moan that stabbed him with pride and desire. He swept his tongue against hers and her lush, sweet taste swamped his senses. As she melted against him, surrendering to the passion that blazed between them, he could only hold onto his control by a thread. Heat flowed through his body, hardening him. He pulled her into his arms, his hands on her back as he resisted the desperate need to pull her tight against his body, tight against the erection that grew more painful by the moment.
She pulled out of the kiss, panting for breath. "We really shouldn't be doing this in public, Pacey."
He ran his lips along her jawline, one hand around her back, the other resting on her hip. "But we're the only ones here, Jo," he whispered, and she could feel his hot breath against her skin.
"Well, that's true…" She encircled his neck, her fingers brushing the buzzed short hair at the nape. Her other hand rested on his chest, just above his heart. She could feel it pounding beneath her palm.
He grinned into her throat before raising his head to look at her. "You'd really consider making out right here in this kitchen, wouldn't you, Potter?" His mouth curved into a knowing smirk. "Naughty girl," he teased, his blue eyes glinting.
She pursed her lips, fighting a grin. His hand slowly moved upward. She wore no bra beneath her tank top, and Pacey's touch and intentions were clear. Warmth spread through her when his hand reached her waist and a finger trailed the valley between her breasts and up the V of her tank top. His eyes dropped from hers to the satiny skin he was stroking. Joey closed her eyes in exquisite delight at the feel of his fingertips caressing her. Aching to feel his skin against hers, she quivered beneath his touch, her body growing warm as she yearned for him to keep going.
"You have always been so beautiful," he murmured, his heart swelling with love for her.
Her eyes flew open to meet his. She could scarcely breathe; the emotions and sensations caused by his touch were almost overwhelming. Pacey's warm palm took the weight of her breast, his thumb teased the nipple through the fabric of her tank top, but his eyes never left hers and she could see the hunger reflected in them. Her body responded powerfully, her hormones raging. As he fondled her breast, teasing her nipple, she could feel the corresponding tugs between her legs, her body clenching and tightening.
He reclaimed Joey's mouth in a passionate kiss as he gently squeezed her soft breast. He felt her passion rising in the tense, needy lines of her body and the trembling of her hands as she clung to his shoulders. He felt her body heating in the way she melted against him, and in the small, restless movements of her hips. Whether or not she fully realized it, her body begged to be touched, stroked, filled.
Dear God in heaven, he wanted to be the one to fill it. He could only hope that sooner or later, he would.
He struggled for control, but she was fire in his arms, lightning in his blood, and he wanted to pull her closer until she melted into him and there was no telling where he ended and she began. Joey's breath tore from her lungs as erratically as his, her heart pounding in a rhythm as violent as his own. The heady scent of her arousal filled the air between them.
Need slammed into him hard.
His hand moved from her back to her thigh, caressing her soft, silky skin up to the hem of her white shorts. His fingers burned to feel the wet heat of the sweetness between her legs. Joey moaned into his mouth, as if hearing his unspoken thoughts. The last thread of his control snapped. Need burned through his blood, a desperate need to spread her, to touch her, to enter her. But as his hand began to slide underneath the denim shorts and further up her thigh towards her heat, she froze.
Not now. Too far. He'd gone too far.
He quickly pulled his hand back, but it was too late. Joey leaned back to look at him and he lowered his other hand from her breast. "Are you trying to seduce me?" she said teasingly, arching her brow.
His eyes widened humorously. "Me? I was in here cleaning, happily minding my own business, Potter. So, who was trying to seduce who, here? Hmm?"
She shoved her tongue in her cheek, trying not to smile. "Well, we need to come to our senses and calm down. We have to get out of here soon or there might not be any taxis around to take us back to the marina. I'm really not in the mood for a five-mile walk in the middle of the night, Pacey. Are you?"
"Definitely not," he said, his body still hard and aching.
"Anyway, we can always continue this when we get back to the boat…" Her brows waggled and she smirked, her eyes glinting knowingly.
His body throbbed. "Well, then I better finish up here, and we can go." He turned away to retrieve the mop and bucket.
From the kitchen doorway, she watched Pacey finish up the last task of the night. She wasn't quite sure why she'd froze. It had been obvious where his hand was going, and while her body went ooh yes, please, she'd panicked. They were still technically in a public place, even if they were the only ones currently around. And what if Steve had forgotten something, or had come back to check on the place to make sure it had been closed properly, and had walked in on them?
But she knew the true reason for her panic was because Pacey's fingers had been sliding toward a place no one had ever dared touch her. A place she admitted she'd never even touched herself, at least not in that way. It was something she'd always felt embarrassed about and uncomfortable with. Yet she had wanted Pacey to touch her. Badly. Still, fear of the unknown had made her freeze up. She obviously wasn't ready for that yet. She remembered Jen's earlier words of advice about gradually working her way at becoming comfortable with going further, and smiled to herself. She knew in time she would be.
Hand-in-hand, Pacey and Joey stepped onto Duval Street in search of a taxi. They ambled along happily, noting the bars with music spilling across the pavement, the small cafes with diners at their outdoor tables, the other pedestrians moving in every direction. Even this late, the tourist areas had a festive, laid-back feel. The night air was refreshing after the hot day. The slight breeze blowing in from the ocean tinged the air with salt, and they caught the scent of night-blooming jasmine, its sweet fragrance adding to the romance of Key West.
On Friday, Joey made her way into town to Sippin' Internet Café on Eaton Street, just one block west off Duval, and logged onto an available computer after getting coffee and a slice of key lime pie. The last two times she'd checked her email, she still had had no reply from Bessie or Jen. Her sister had sent her a quick message to express her relief that she'd made it Key West in one piece. She'd written her back, but she had yet to get any response from Bessie since. She assumed her sister had just been too busy with the B&B to get on the computer lately, and again felt a slight twinge of guilt at leaving Bessie without her help for the summer. Upon signing into her email, she smiled when she saw she finally had a reply from Jen, although it had been sent almost a week ago. She chastised herself for not checking sooner.
"Joey,
That's great you made it to Key West safe and sound! Congrats on a successful journey. I'm sorry for the radio silence on my end and that it's taken me so long to reply. I've actually been having a very busy summer. My relationship with Henry is solely existing through letters and phone calls while he's at football camp. Not ideal, but I think there's something very old-timey romantic about it. Grams has also kept me busy with one fundraiser or another. She's quite the social butterfly around Capeside. And it seems like almost every weekend, I'm packing a bag and then I'm off somewhere with Dawson, Andie, and Jack. Since Philadelphia, we've been to Boston and Providence, and we even drove up to Vermont to visit Dawson's aunt.
She's got a cute house. I think you'd like it. Of course, I never saw the old one that was the home of so many of your childhood memories, so I honestly can't compare them. That woman is a trip, I have to say. Gwen was kind of surprised you hadn't come along, and when she asked what you were up to for the summer her eyes practically bugged out of her head when we told her you'd sailed to Florida with Pacey. She was rendered speechless for at least five minutes, I swear, and then she spent the rest of the day alone with Dawson, leaving me and Jack and Andie to fend for ourselves. But that was all right. The town she lives in is small, but we came across some interesting sights and had a nice time.
I want to hear all about what's going on with you. What's Key West like? How are things with Pacey? I know the last time we talked you were feeling quite frustrated with your situation. I hope things are better. Let me know!
Love,
Jen"
It was nice to know her friends were having a good time. She hoped Dawson was enjoying himself. She also hoped that by the time she and Pacey returned home, his anger would have significantly lessened and he would actually want to be friends. Only time would tell. Joey finished the last of her coffee and then hit the reply button.
"Jen,
It's so good to hear from you. I'm happy you're having a good summer and you've actually been able to venture out of Capeside. Key West is quiet and loud, funky and old fashioned, vibrant and subdued. It's an eclectic mix. You've got the rich, tacky, and sunburned hanging around the yacht club, and then later on Duval Street, the main drag down here, you'll run into a 70-year-old bum in a Hawaiian shirt and bare feet who will tell you a filthy joke if you give him a dollar. Leave it to Pacey to end up paying the guy five bucks. My face turned beet-red as each joke proved dirtier than the last, but of course Pacey says it was well worth the money! The weather is VERY hot and humid, and so I've pretty much given up wearing a bra, but the island is beautiful. The water is so warm and crystal clear. The ocean is gorgeous here.
We got temporary part-time jobs to offset the cost of docking at the yacht club's marina. We're working at a small bar and restaurant. It's a real dive, but our boss is a pretty nice guy. Between the pay and the tips, it's well worth it, and to tell you the truth I don't think a Joey Potter summer would have been complete without some time spent in a food and beverage serving capacity. I'm actually having a good time. The people are really interesting – nothing like Capeside. And everyone at work adores Pacey, of course. He could charm the skin off a snake, as Bodie would say.
When we first got here, Pacey got us bus passes for the public transit to get around. It's not like either of us could rent a car, and the bus is much cheaper than renting a scooter. Pacey had wanted to rent one, but I have no interest in being scraped off the Key West pavement. The buses only run until midnight, and so we usually end up having to splurge on a taxi for a ride back to the marina when we get out of work.
The Hemingway Days Caribbean Street Fair is tomorrow, and that should be fun. They're going to close Duval Street to vehicles from 10 am to 10 pm, and it'll be transformed into an open-air market with lots of vendors selling art, crafts, jewelry, food, clothing. I guess thousands of people come every year. I've been painting and drawing a lot. Pacey saw a sign last week that said vendors were still needed and told me I should sell my work at the fair, but I honestly don't think it's that good.
So, to answer your question… things between me and Pacey are great, tension-and-frustration-free. We're really, really happy. So, I want to say thank you for helping me out. I don't know how I survived puberty without a close female friend, but I'm glad I have one now.
Well, I've got some shopping to do in town before I return to the boat. I hope you can write back soon. I want to hear more about what you've been up to!
Love,
Joey
P.S. Tell Jack I said hello. Andie and Dawson, too, but only if that won't just end up being salt in the wound. I'll let you decide. I trust your judgment. I may be having the time of my life down here, but I do miss you guys."
After leaving the café and finishing up her shopping at the grocery store, she made her way back to the club on Stock Island. There she ran into Alice Wilson, a young woman in her early twenties whose parents owned one of the smaller yachts that were moored at the marina. The family hailed from Orlando, had become regulars at the Hideaway, and had been impressed to learn she and Pacey had sailed all the way to Key West from Massachusetts by themselves. They chatted for a few minutes before Joey continued on her way. On the dock beside the True Love, she found her boyfriend hammering and nailing wood, hinges, and pegboard together. Her brows knitted in confusion.
"What are you doing, Pace?"
He turned and looked at her as she approached, smiling. "I'm making a backdrop to display your art at the fair."
She halted and stared. "What do you mean?"
His lips pursed, and he shrugged. "Oh, well… I might've taken the liberty in filling out a vendor application for you and it was accepted." He raised his hands in the air. "Surprise!"
Her eyes went wide. "You didn't."
"Oh, but I did." He gave her a shit-eating grin.
She felt surprised, and yet wasn't shocked at all that Pacey Witter would do something like that. Her heart swelled. Dropping her bags to the ground, she moved towards him and threw her arms around his shoulders. He pulled her close, hugging her tight against his body. "Why are you so good to me?"
He chuckled, his hands rubbing her back. "Why? Because I love ya, silly."
Pulling out of the hug, she laughed. "So, we're really going to display my art tomorrow?"
"Yep, and you'll sell some of it, Jo. I know you will. I've got your paintings and drawings packed in a crate down in the cabin."
As he turned back around to continue hammering the display board, she shook her head as if in disbelief. She studied him while he worked and she was amazed by him, amazed by this young man standing in front of her. Pacey was so incredibly kind; the most wonderful, most romantic, smartest person she'd ever known. What had she done to deserve him? What? Nothing, she told herself. She'd been bitter and angry and sarcastic towards him for almost their entire lives, and yet he loved her anyway. She vowed to love him back just as much in return, to never take him for granted, to show him every day just how lucky she was to have him.
On Saturday morning, they hitched a ride into town with a fellow boater from the marina. When they arrived on Duval, they found the fair's information booth and were pointed in the direction of the small canvas enclosure that would house their own display. After walking a few blocks, they reached a tent that had been set up with a sign pinned to a canvas flap that read, "Art by Josephine Potter."
Joey's stomach filled with nerves of excitement as they entered the booth. She stood back and watched Pacey inside the booth while he set up the portable backdrop he'd made the day before to display her sketches and watercolors. All around them, colorful tents dotted both sides of the street—booths filled with paintings, sculptures, pottery, jewelry, and tropical clothing. The delicious aroma from the food vendors filled the air.
"I think that'll do it," Pacey said, stepping from beneath the canopy to view his handiwork. He studied the structure for a moment, then gave Joey a grin and wandered to her side. "Well, Jo? What do you think?" He slid his arm around her waist.
"Perfect," she replied, enjoying the closeness and warmth of his hand against her side. His skin smelled of sunshine and fresh air and clean sweat, and oh God, it was delicious. "Now all we need to do is set up everything."
"Let's get to work." He gave her waist a squeeze before shifting his arm and heading for the boxes they'd set down inside the tent.
Joey watched him a moment, admiring his strong features, his determined mouth and the line between his brows that deepened as he set his mind to the task at hand. When he bent down to lift her paintings from the crate, she joined him inside the booth. In the shadow of the enclosure, she paused a moment to brush her fingers along the nape of his neck and into his soft hair. "I still love this buzzcut," she said, feeling giddy with the depth of her emotions and attraction to him.
"Thanks." He captured her fingers and drew them to his lips.
"I should be the one thanking you," she said. "For doing all this for me."
"I wanted to."
"I know. So… thank you, Pacey."
He smiled, his gaze tender. "You're welcome, Jo."
The fair commenced at ten o'clock and Duval Street filled with pedestrians. A couple wandered into their tent, gave them a quiet nod, and ambled through the display looking at one picture after another. The couple ended up being her first sale. A small painting of the Key West sunset, but still a sale. Excitement and satisfaction welled up inside her. She handed Pacey the cash, and while she wrapped the painting in tissue and brown paper, he made change from the small container they'd brought along to serve as a cash box.
When the couple said goodbye, Joey spun around, grinning broadly as her eyes widened in pleasant surprise. "Can you believe it, Pacey?"
"I most certainly can. I told you, Potter. I'm so proud of you."
She took him in her arms and held him close, enjoying the moment and wishing days like these could last forever. He drew in a lengthy breath and lovingly gazed at her as if he felt the same.
July 27. He and Joey arrived at work on Thursday, looking forward to their last shift at the Hideaway and a wide open weekend of leisure in Key West before they were to lift anchor and set sail back home next week. Christine and the kitchen staff had already arrived, and were currently preparing for the day's rush of patrons. While Joey was with Christine at the bar, he went back to the kitchen to greet his coworkers. They chatted for a few minutes and shared some laughs.
The restaurant was soon humming and as the sky began to darken it filled up to capacity. James Moore appeared, wearing navy blue pants and a light short-sleeved shirt opened at the throat. He had the impression that this was casual for him, but it was almost formal by Key West standards. It was the first time Pacey had seen him since they met, and he watched him move around the place, observing Joey waiting on customers at the tables, conversing with Christine at the bar, and visiting the kitchen frequently. When a small table by the wall opened up, he watched the man sit down.
While he was replenishing clean glasses behind the bar, Joey came over and asked Christine for a bottle of Corona with lime. "For Mr. Moore," she said. "Uh, Pace?"
He turned and smiled. He thought she looked especially cute today in her faded blue jean shorts and white V-neck tank top. Her hair was up in a ponytail, there wasn't a drop of makeup on her face, and she wore no jewelry except for the small seashell ring on her left hand. He loved that about her, how she seemingly didn't put an obscene amount of time or effort into her appearance. She didn't need to—her natural, fresh-faced look made her all the more beautiful. "Yeah, Jo?"
"He wants you to come over and talk to him." They shared a silent look and she shrugged.
Pursing his lips, he nodded, and after the last of the clean glasses were on the shelves, he removed his apron and stepped out from behind the bar. When he reached Mr. Moore's table, they shook hands, and the man motioned for him to sit and join him. "I keep on hearing very good things about you," James said in a friendly tone before taking a sip from his beer.
He smiled. "Thanks. That's good to know."
"I see Steve put a Help Wanted sign in the front window. So, I take it you're still planning on leaving Key West next week?"
"Yeah. Monday."
"Is there any way I could coax you to stay? For a beach bum town, Key West takes its food very seriously. I've considered stealing you out from under Steve's nose and setting you up in the Ambrosia's restaurant. The kitchen could use you."
At the fancy resort? Joey suddenly arrived at their table. She wordlessly set a glass of Coca-Cola in front of him with a straw, winked at him and smiled, sending his heart pounding and his stomach fluttering. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked James. "Another beer?"
"No, but thank you."
Joey then left their table just as quickly as she'd appeared. He forced his attention back to Mr. Moore. "Well, uh… I mean, hey, I'd love to stay here. Sometimes I wish we could. You know… work here at the Hideaway, sleep on the boat. What else could we possibly need?" He paused. Sometimes he really did wish they didn't have to go back home. What the hell was waiting for them there? But he didn't want to dwell on that right now.
"I'm having the best damn summer of my life. I've got no real reason to go home anytime soon, but my girlfriend wants to get back to school for our senior year. She's probably gonna graduate top of our class, or close to it. She's goin' places, so… you know..." He sighed, not really wanting to think about the unknown future that lay beyond high school.
"Don't you have any ambitions?" asked Mr. Moore.
Shaking his head, he shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder why I don't have any, but then I remember that my parents wouldn't give a shit about me whether I succeed or fail. Maybe that's the reason I don't have any ambition." He paused. "I take that back. This was it—sailing my boat down to Key West. This was my ambition. I've done the one thing I always wanted to do. The only thing I have to look forward to now is… being with Joey. She actually has ambitions, and she can achieve them, too. She's smart and she's talented. She can do whatever she wants after she graduates." And as much as he was loath to admit it at the moment, so could Dawson. Certainly Andie. Even Jen and Jack. They were definitely all college-bound.
"And you have no real interest in graduating like your girlfriend?" He nodded in her general direction.
"Well… I'd like to, sure, I guess… but I've always known there's a good chance I won't. I don't know. We'll see. Wherever she wants to go that's where I'll be, and right now she wants to go back to Capeside. So, adios Key West."
James pursed his lips, nodding. "How long have you two known each other?"
He swallowed a sip of his soda. "Since we were six years old."
"Love at first sight?"
"Hardly," he laughed, but then he thought for a moment, remembering the butterflies she'd always given him, even when they were kids. "Well… maybe for me, I think… a little bit. For the longest time we were more rivals, I suppose, and then over the past year we became close friends and finally learned to trust each other. It took a long time for us to realize... Anyway, we haven't been dating that long. I'm counting my lucky stars she decided to give me the time of day. She's the most amazing person, and I'm sure she'll end up at some Ivy League institution or another. I'm just hoping she won't realize she's attached herself to a loser going nowhere who might not even graduate from high school."
Mr. Moore's brows furrowed. "You don't look like a loser to me. I happen to think you're a young man who just might be worth investing in." He drank from his beer. "You know, higher learning is a wonderful opportunity, but not everyone is afforded the opportunity nor is it an opportunity that is best for everyone. Education is important, but not always necessary to succeed in life. Being in the restaurant business, some of the most successful people I know are high school dropouts."
He drummed his fingers on the table while his gaze found Joey, carrying platters of food from the kitchen. "I don't plan on dropping out, but fingers crossed I can graduate. If I don't, then… well, I'll cross that bridge when I get there, I guess." He wanted to change the subject.
James folded his hands in his lap. "According to Steve, your coworkers, and the regular patrons I've talked to, you not only have great potential as a cook, but you're also very charming. I've seen the way you speak with people. You're very comfortable with yourself, and with others, even adults. I'd say that's pretty uncommon in someone your age. The cooks like it when you hang out back there with them. I've never observed or heard about you speaking harshly with any of the other staff, even when the place is slammed and you're being pulled in ten different directions. It's an appealing quality, and can be rare in this business. I have a feeling you'd run a kitchen where people could thrive under you in a high-morale environment. You said once before you're not really a chef, but that can easily become a reality. Have you thought of culinary school as opposed to college?"
He stared, not knowing what to say. Cooking? As a career? "Um… I've never thought about it."
"You should."
He imagined telling his family about this new chosen profession. Cooking is women's work, they'd say. Doug and his parents would probably laugh him right out of the room. He didn't reply, and only nodded.
"You live on Cape Cod? Did Steve inform me right?"
"Yeah, we live on the Cape. Have you ever been?"
James smiled. "Sure. A couple summers ago I took my family there for vacation. We rented a beach house for a week. It's a beautiful area."
"You know, my girlfriend, Joey? Her family owns the best bed and breakfast in the county. Next time you're on the Cape, you should check them out. It's the Potter B&B."
"I just might do that." He finished the last of his beer. "It was great talking to you, Pacey. If you ever find yourself back in Key West, or in Miami or Boston or New York or Chicago or Las Vegas or London, you can look me up at the Ambrosia restaurant in any of those places. If I'm not there, then my people will know how to get a hold of me and we can speak, but hopefully we'll meet again in person. I'd very much like that." He stood up and took out his wallet, leaving some cash on the table for Joey's tip. "Good luck with school, and the girlfriend. And don't forget about what I've said. Leave some room for ambition in your life. You owe it to yourself to live up to your full potential."
He stood up and shook his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Moore."
For the rest of the evening he thought about their conversation. He was pretty good at cooking, he supposed. What else was he good at? At this point he could probably beat the pants off his dad at a fishing contest. Not that he would ever try. The last thing in the world he ever wanted to do was compete with him. But if he kept that tidbit in the back of his mind, he might be able to retain his sanity in the future whenever he gets pissed off at his dad. Fishing was something he might actually be good at.
There was something else he was good at—making Joey happy. He could see it in her eyes. He'd thought it was just that summer glow that girls tend to get, but now he was starting to believe that maybe it was him. He could see her when she didn't think he was looking, just watching him, and she always looked totally content. Joey was his whole world now. He couldn't imagine being with or even wanting to be with anyone else.
July 30. On Sunday, Joey made her way into town to the Internet café and was pleased to see an email from Jen and finally one from Bessie, telling her about how busy she'd been with the B&B and was happy to know her little sister would be coming home soon. After she replied to Bessie, she read Jen's email.
"Joey,
Sounds like you and Pacey are having an amazing time in Key West. It seems like a fun, interesting place. Maybe someday I'll go there myself. I bet Jack would love it. I can't wait to look at all your pictures and hear more of your stories. As far as your friends back in Capeside go, I don't think we'll be doing anymore weekend getaways. Jack and Dawson got a job house painting and that's going to keep them busy. So, I believe we're pretty much going to spend August lying around on the beach and trying our best to avoid tourists, which is just fine with me. We're all going to the movies tonight to see What Lies Beneath with Harrison Ford and Michelle Pfeiffer. It looks like it'll be good.
Anyway, you sound really happy and I'm happy for you and Pacey. I'm glad to hear that there is no longer any tension and frustration between you guys, but come on, Joey! I want all the sordid details! Don't leave a girl hanging. My boyfriend is currently 700 miles away and there is a severe lack of excitement in my life.
Love,
Jen
P.S. I told Andie and Jack that you said hello and that you miss them. It went just fine. Andie is a nice, forgiving girl, and a good friend. I don't think she harbors any ill will towards you or Pacey. She wants you guys to be happy. But I didn't relay your hellos to Dawson. After expressing relief that you and Pacey survived the storm, he hasn't brought your names up since and it's become this white elephant in the room that none of us talk about when we're with him. I'm hoping his silence on the subject is just him working things out with himself and that everything will go back to being relatively normal once school starts up again. Well, as normal as anything in our lives has been so far."
Joey frowned at the screen. While she was glad that Andie had taken her communication well, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that Dawson might still be resentful. After reading the email a second time, she clicked on the reply button.
"Jen,
So good to hear from you. I was happy to hear that Andie took my greetings well. I'm feeling kinda positive we can still be friends when I get back. As for Dawson… well, I'm trying to hope. I told Pacey we weren't leaving until we visited the Hemingway House. He didn't see the appeal. It's only the most famous tourist attraction here short of the street corner sign that informs you that you're 90 miles from Cuba, and Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville café. When we went, I got a brick from the house as a souvenir gift for Dawson. It's kind of a peace offering, I suppose. Pacey isn't so sure Dawson will see it that way and made some crack about Hemingway killing himself, but I'm hoping it'll at least be a start to mending things between the three of us when we get home.
Anyway, the many, many descendants of Hemingway's cats still live there and are all taken care of by the staff – and they're adorable. Pacey wanted to take one back to Capeside with us, but I kind of figure they probably like Key West a little better than they'd like our dreary little town. We'll be saying goodbye to the island soon, but we really did it – spent our summer sailing to the southernmost part of the United States. And tomorrow we'll get to turn around and do it all again. I don't know whether to be happy or sad that we're basically halfway home.
Although, I do miss Bodie's cooking. I'm looking forward to some home-cooked meals that aren't seafood, but I have to admit Pacey's a pretty good fisherman. He's so good that the yacht club paid him $100 to catch a few flounders when their kitchen ran out yesterday! They're even going to let us eat at the club restaurant for free tonight! It's a very fancy place, so I'll have to put on a dress. Even though a lot of the places around here are beautiful and romantic, sometimes I think there's no better feeling in the world than just being on the boat and sitting by Pacey's side as he prepares the fish he caught for the two of us to eat. It's like I know there's nothing more we need on this earth than each other.
As for the sordid details you're asking for, I'm sorry but I don't think I want to put any of that in writing and send it out over the worldwide web. When I get back home, we'll talk. I promise!
Well, I should get going. We need to make sure we have everything we need before we leave tomorrow, and Pacey wants to go for one last sailing excursion around the island this afternoon. I'll write you from our next port of call.
Love,
Joey"
After signing out of her email, she logged off the computer and left the café. It wasn't long before she caught the public transit bus on Duval Street for a ride back to Stock Island. Forty-five minutes later, she was walking down the marina dock towards the True Love. Upon sight of Pacey getting the boat ready to sail, her heart skipped a beat. He greeted her with a hug when she came aboard.
"Did you call home and tell your family we're leaving tomorrow?" she asked.
"I talked to Doug," he replied. "And when I called the house, Carrie answered. So, I talked to her, and she can relay the information. My dad had gone fishing with some of his drinking buddies and my mom was out running errands. I'm not complaining."
She nodded. "Well, that's good you called."
With her arms around his waist, she gazed up at him. Pacey had the most beautiful smile and tender eyes. The eyes she stared into were the deepest blue she had ever seen—ocean blue. Joey smiled up at him as he smiled in return. A silent truth hung in the air between them. She knew he loved her and he knew she loved him.
After their sojourn out to the crystal clear blue of the sea surrounding the island, they arrived back at the dock much later than they'd planned. Upon their return, Joey made use of the marina's facilities and rushed through a quick shower, dressing at warp speed, drawing on a colorful lavender and plum sundress that hugged her body and flared at the waist. It was cool and comfortable in the oppressive humidity. She dried her hair, applied a touch of mascara, and was ready. Not wanting to be late for their dinner reservation, she hurried back to the boat to collect Pacey.
He was standing on the dock waiting for her, in dark pants and a gray and white bowling shirt. When he spotted her, he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. With his hands shoved casually in his pockets, he looked relaxed, confident, attractive. Joey's heart sped up a little as she hurried toward him and the worries over being late for their reservation disappeared.
Pacey stepped off the boat to meet her, his eyes running slowly down the length of her, taking in her shiny dark brown hair, the light gloss on her lips, down her long suntanned legs to her sandal-clad feet. He thought she looked so beautiful. His pulse raced as butterflies erupted in his stomach.
She felt his gaze as if he touched her. Warmth permeated her body and made her breathless. She felt the tingling awareness of her body for his. "Ready for dinner in a super fancy restaurant?" she asked with a smile, stepping forward and kissing him sweetly.
"Yeah, I'm looking forward to it," he told her.
He took her hand in his and they walked to the yacht club. Twilight began to fall. The club lights illuminated the walkway from the marina and one bright star could be seen just above the horizon. They were soon inside the grand yellow and turquoise building and making their way to the restaurant. Joey was halfway across the lobby when Pacey suddenly stopped walking.
"Good grief, Potter, look at that outfit you're wearing," he murmured, his warm hand gently grasping her upper arm and turning her towards him. "The air-conditioning is making your nipples hard and they're showing right through your dress. Every guy in this place is staring at you."
Joey glanced down at her sundress. Oops—he was right. But surely not every man was looking at her. Not with all the grown women dressed to kill walking around the place. She darted a quick glance around the lobby; no one was even looking in their direction. She rolled her eyes. "If people are looking that closely, Pace, then they deserve to see something," she teased.
He stared at her, fighting a grin. "You look radiant, Jo."
She gazed up at him; his look was yearning, hungry. She felt a tingling at her arm, against the side of her breast where the back of his fingers touched. She had trouble thinking of anything else, but stepped back and he released her arm, slowly pulling his fingers free. Then she took his hand in hers and they continued walking to the restaurant.
He glanced down at her again as she walked beside him. Since they'd left Capeside, Joey had taken to wearing more feminine dresses and skirts in the past several weeks than he'd ever seen her wear in the last ten years. "Have you decided to change the way you dress, or did you wear this for me?"
Pacey ran his fingers down her bare back. She felt his touch with a shock. His fingertips were light, leaving a trace of electricity in their path. She shivered and blushed, darting him a quick glance. Seeing the gleam in his eyes as he met her gaze, her breath caught. Her heart skipped a beat, and then began beating double time. The trail his fingers left down her back was still warm, and her skin longed for more contact. Her whole body yearned for contact with his. She had to clear her throat to speak.
"It's so hot and humid here, this is honestly the coolest thing…" She trailed off. A blush stained her cheeks. She wasn't quite sure how to explain her sudden draw to more girly clothes. She'd always felt so foolish and stupid in pretty clothing, as if she looked ridiculous and everyone around her thought so too, and had been much more comfortable hiding herself by dressing like a tomboy. But Pacey made her feel so beautiful, she didn't feel like hiding anymore.
After stopping at the bar and getting two sodas, they took their drinks out to the first floor patio and waited for their dinner call at 7:30. They were given a quiet table in the back. The ones surrounding it were unoccupied, giving them momentary privacy. Joey didn't know why, but she felt as nervous as if she was on a first date.
"I don't really belong in a place like this," she said. "I mean, look at this place. I think we're the only people here under 30 years old. And look at the women. I think they're all wearing diamonds and heels, and I'm just in this cotton sundress."
He glanced around. "None of these people hold a candle to you, Jo. Anyway, who cares about them? We're not going to talk to them, and I doubt they're going to talk to us. Tonight is just about me and you and having a nice time on our last night in Key West. Ignore everything else."
Nodding, she smiled, although she still felt out of place. "Yeah, you're right."
"So, we're eating on the yacht club's dime," Pacey remarked as he looked over the menu. "Anything we want. What should we order?"
"Steak and lobster," she replied, smirking. "Definitely."
"Excellent choice, Josephine," he said in a fake pompous tone, and she laughed.
Over the course of their dinner, Pacey set her at ease, cracking jokes, making her laugh, and just being his usual sweet self. Soon she didn't care that she was surrounded by rich and tacky snobs. A jazz band had struck up some light music in the corner and several older couples had begun to dance in the middle of the large dining room. They looked like they'd been dancing together for decades. She watched them, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
He saw the dreamy look in Joey's eyes and felt pretty confident she wouldn't refuse him if he asked her to dance. He stood up and offered her his hand. She smiled brightly and took it without hesitation. They walked over to join the other couples and she smoothly went into his arms. From the moment her body touched his, he was reminded of just how well they fit together.
Her body was firm, yet soft, and her sweet scent floated off her warm skin and intoxicated his senses. Joey sighed softly, which further aroused him. They floated together on the dance floor for the remainder of the song, eyes locked, contented smiles on their faces. She moved closer to him as the song ended, her hand moving to the nape of his neck. "Let's get out of here," she whispered, her lips brushing lightly against his ear.
"I was just about to suggest that, Potter," he said, grinning, and she blushed.
Not having to pay a check, they walked hand-in-hand off the dance floor and out of the club restaurant. When they reached the boat, Pacey stepped aboard as a voice called out, "Hey, Joey!"
She turned to see Alice Wilson walking towards her, smiling. She smiled politely in return as Pacey disappeared below deck. "Hi, Alice. How are you?"
"Just fine, thanks. You?"
"I'm good."
Alice's red curls were pulled back into ponytail at her nape. "I hear you're no longer working at the Hideaway and you'll be lifting anchor soon."
She nodded. "You heard correctly. We're leaving tomorrow."
"Well, good luck with the rest of your summer and I hope your journey north is a safe one," Alice said kindly.
"Thanks."
Moments later, Joey was descending into the boat cabin. Her boyfriend had stripped down to a white tank top and his dark boxers, and was carrying navigational charts and setting them down on the small table in the eating nook. He turned to look at her and she smirked. "The humidity is killing me, Jo."
"There's a cool breeze above deck."
"Yeah, I might jump in the water a little later."
Joey kicked off her sandals and went to the galley to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge. Pacey walked over as she turned and leaned back against the counter, taking a sip. "Dinner was nice," he said.
She set the bottle of water down and smiled. "It was."
"So, it's our last night in Key West. What do you wanna do, Jo?"
She felt heat rise up inside her and her face flushed. "We could read from our book."
They were halfway through The Picture of Dorian Gray. He moved closer and smirked, his eyes glinting as his hands rested on the counter on either side of her. "We could…"
Her gaze roamed over his lean, taut body, his soft, tanned skin, and up to meet his eyes, smoldering like blue fire. She craved his touch, his kiss. "Pacey," she breathed, and lifted her mouth to his.
When Joey said his name like that, all breathless, his desire for her increased tenfold. Their lips collided. He'd meant to be gentle about it, but immediately it was all fire and passion. One taste of her sweet mouth had him craving more. He lifted the hem of her purple sundress.
Her lips parted as she felt Pacey's strong thigh slide between hers. She felt heat start between her legs from the pressure there and surge up her body to stain her cheeks a warm pink. Her arms went around his shoulders, her hands into his hair. He could feel her heat against his thigh, he could smell her arousal, and he hardened instantly, tenting his boxers. He reclaimed her mouth in a passionate kiss as he pressed his thigh firmly against her.
Joey whimpered when heat shot through her, sending sparks of fire in all directions only to crash back between her legs with scalding intensity. "Please, Pacey," she said as she pulled out of the kiss, gasping for breath, rubbing herself on his thigh.
"Please what, Joey?" he whispered seductively as his blue eyes darkened with passion and he moved his leg against her in a steady rhythm.
Her body tightened and her center became even more slick with desire as the large bulge of his erection pressed against her. A desperate mewling sound escaped her throat, and she inwardly cringed with embarrassment, but she knew he could ease the seemingly never-ending ache inside her. "You know what I want, Pacey."
He did. His hands slid behind her to squeeze her ass and then he lifted her up onto the counter, her legs locking around his hips. He gathered the skirt of her dress and bunched it up around her waist, pulling it behind her and exposing the small patch of white fabric that covered her sweetness. Their mouths met in another kiss, devouring each other, tongues meeting in passionate caresses.
More. He needed more of her. Tearing his mouth from hers, he kissed down her jaw and her slender throat. Her perfect breasts beckoned. He traced a finger over the lush curve of them. "Oh, that's right. You're not wearing a bra underneath this dress, are you?"
She shook her head, a long lock of her dark hair feathering against his face. Her breath was coming in desperate pants. "No." He lifted his eyes to hers, looking for approval, permission. Their gaze held for an intense moment. Her breasts ached and her center throbbed, clenching around nothing. She licked her lips and nodded.
Sweet Jesus. He savored the touch of her silky hair even as he slipped his hand beneath the fabric of her dress, a haze of lust filling his head. She held her breath as his fingertips caressed her stomach and moved upwards to cup her bare breast, gently squeezing her in his palm, his thumb stroking her straining nipple.
He groaned. It was like a dream come true. He gazed at her, saw the desire in her velvety brown eyes. "You feel so good, baby."
The feel of his hand on her breast was unlike anything Joey had ever imagined. Heat flashed from her breast to the throbbing bundle of nerves at her center, and she knew her panties were wet. She whimpered as Pacey tugged gently on her nipple, soothing her ache and enflaming her at the same time. She felt as if her skin was burning. The large hand at her back moved lower until it cupped her ass, tilting her hips as he settled between her legs, positioning her mound directly against his hard cock.
It felt so incredibly good as she rubbed herself against him, stimulating her clit through their thin clothing. She ground herself against his erection, and he groaned. "You're so beautiful, Joey," he breathed as he gripped her ass with one hand and fondled her bare breast underneath her dress with another. "I love you."
Her center throbbed and clenched. She felt empty. Needy. She stroked Pacey's strong shoulders, his neck and his chest. His skin was soft and tanned a golden brown. He was the beautiful one. She felt his erection pulse inside his boxers as he thrust against her to meet the grinding of her hips, and a sheen of sweat covered his skin. He whispered her name in her ear and she heard his moans of desire as he found satisfaction with her body.
She closed her eyes, swept away by all that she was feeling. Then her entire body coiled tight, on the verge of release, desperate for that blissful sensation that hovered just over the edge. "Pacey," she whimpered, tightened her grip on his shoulders. "PaceyPaceyPacey…"
He knew she was close. He rolled her nipple between his fingers and pinched as he thrust harder against her. "Let go, baby," he whispered, never taking his eyes off her. He wanted to watch her come, loved it when her body tensed, reveled in the way her thighs would tighten around him, and she'd make the sexiest noises. It was the sweetest music to his ears. "I love to make you come."
"Oh, my God," she moaned. Joey's eyes rolled and she arched against him, crying out when his seductive words caused the tension inside her to snap and spiral downward in intense waves, her clit throbbing with pleasure over his clothed erection as he continued thrusting against her. Breathing hard, she clung to his shoulders as her body went limp. The delicious feeling spread out from her center down to her toes and to the tips of her fingers. Her head was swimming with it.
"I love you, Pacey," she whimpered, kissing him all over his face, his cheeks, his eyelids, his brow as she bucked her hips slowly against him. His hand left her breast and his arms wrapped around her, holding her tenderly. She felt his hard cock pulse against her. Joey locked her thighs tighter around his hips. "We're not done yet," she murmured suggestively.
He grinned and nodded. His hands went to grip her ass and Joey started to grind her hips harder against him. He thrust to meet her, a desperate need growing inside him as her hot center stroked his swollen cock. He bit his lip as he watched her hips work, his mind filling with wanton lust. He could see the plump lips of her pussy, the way her underwear clung wetly between them. He ached to pull the thin material aside and touch her. He desperately wanted to gather that wetness and drag his finger up to her clit and make her scream his name. He wanted to nudge his finger inside her wet heat and feel her tightening around it, wanted to feel her tighten around his cock.
"Oh, baby… I'm going to… Fuck, Joey… I'm gonna come…" His body went rigid, shuddering as he moaned, spilling inside his boxers, lost in the ecstasy of his orgasm.
The sight and sound of his pleasure caused arousal to spark once again at her center, and Joey craned her neck, her mouth seeking Pacey's. She kissed him deeply, lovingly, wanting him to feel everything she was feeling for him. He rested his forehead against hers, both a sweaty mess. They savored the moment together, kissing and whispering sweet nothings, and held onto each other as their breathing slowly returned to normal.
Some minutes later, he helped Joey hop off the counter. "Let's get cleaned up," he said.
She went into the back, disappearing from Pacey's view, and quickly removed her sundress and threw on a tank top. Then she returned to the main cabin. "The ocean is calling me," she said, smiling. "And it says I need a bath."
"You and me both," he smirked.
She glanced down at his boxers—a damp mess. Chuckling, Joey took Pacey by the hand and they went above deck. The lights that hung on the mast and around the railings twinkled in the dark, lighting the area around their boat. It was a cloudless sky and stars twinkled brightly above them. They walked to the far edge of the sailboat, grabbed each other by the hand, and jumped in.
The water was cool and refreshing on their heated skin and had a great calming, but energizing effect. They swam around, splashing each other and laughing, careful of other boats around the dock. They soon returned to the True Love, dried off, and changed into their pajamas. Getting into the bottom hammock together, they spoke quietly in the dark about their favorite memories of their stay in Key West and of their plans for the next few weeks, of their return trip back up the coast and the places they wanted to see. They lay tangled together, exhaustion finally pulling them under, and they fell asleep in each other's arms.