Love for All Time Read online

  He sighed, pushing the thoughts away. Logic told him to forget about Tiffany, and to remember that not all women were like her.

  But his heart, wary of bearing such pain ever again, told him something else.

  He had to protect himself, no matter the cost.

  Chapter 8

  Saturday morning, Sierra sat at a small table inside of The Heavenly Bean. The cute little coffee shop was in the heart of the downtown district and served a fantastic café mocha. Her seat by the window allowed her a great view of everything happening outside, so as she sipped from her mug, she let her eyes scan the scenery.

  She’d agreed to meet Jazmin here for a quick breakfast, but as usual, her friend was running late. As the moments ticked by, Sierra found herself thinking about Campbell...again. It seemed he was always on her mind. Every moment she wasn’t actively occupied with something, thoughts of him rose.

  Enough of this. She put down her mug and picked up her phone. Searching through her call list, she dialed the number Campbell had called her from a few days prior.

  He answered after the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Campbell, hi. It’s Sierra.”

  “Good morning. How are you?” He sounded calm and pleased to hear from her.

  Hearing his voice made her smile. “I’m fine, thanks. How are you?”

  “Good.” He paused, his tone changing to concern. “Is there a problem at the condo? Something you need fixed?”

  “No, no. Everything’s fine there.”

  “Glad to hear that.” He seemed relieved. “Although now I’m really curious about why you called me.”

  She drew a deep breath. “Listen, I don’t want to waste your time. Do you think we could maybe get together and talk? Just the two of us?”

  After a few silent beats, he spoke again. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  A tingle of discomfort crawled up her neck, and her eyes darted around the coffee shop as she answered. “No, no. It’s definitely not a date. I just think we need to talk about some things. You know, come to an understanding.”

  “About what?”

  She cleared her throat, keeping her voice low. “About what happened at the condo the other night. And about what you said to me in your car, when you dropped me off.”

  “I agree. We do need to talk, about both of those things. When do you want to have this conversation?”

  “Are you busy later this afternoon?”

  “That’s kind of short notice,” he teased. “But lucky for you, I’m free. So, what do you have in mind?”

  She thought for a moment. She didn’t want to take him back to the condo, because that seemed too intimate. The same went for asking to meet at his place. We need to meet somewhere neutral, somewhere public. She snapped her fingers as the idea came to her. “Why don’t we meet on the beach? I’ll bring the food if you bring something to drink and that plaid blanket.”

  “I can agree to that. Although, you have to admit, this sounds a lot like a romantic evening.” He made a soft whistling sound. “You know, just the two of us on the beach, with wine and a big blanket...”

  She cleared her throat. “Excuse me, who said anything about wine? You can just bring some sodas or bottled water, thank you very much.”

  His low, easy laugh followed her words. “You’re just determined not to have any fun.”

  She scoffed. “That’s not it. I just want to make sure you understand what this is.”

  “And what is it?”

  She shifted in her seat, searching for just the right descriptive phrase. “It’s a casual picnic between friends.”

  He laughed again. “If you say so.”

  She rolled her eyes, unable to decide if she was more amused or annoyed with him. If she couldn’t control the direction of this conversation, how was she going to control the direction of things once she met with him? “So are you agreeing?”

  “Sure. We can go out.”

  “Campbell, it’s not a date.” The moment the words left Sierra’s lips, she glanced up to see Jazmin approaching the table. When she sat in the chair across from her, her friend’s wide-eyed, openmouthed stare told her she’d heard Sierra’s exclamation. Awesome.

  “Yes, I remember.” Campbell’s voice drew her out of her embarrassment and back into their conversation. “How does five thirty at Richardson Point Pier sound for our ‘not-a-date’?”

  She turned away from Jazmin’s scrutiny to hide her smile. “Sounds great. See you there.”

  “Later, Sierra.” He disconnected the call.

  She laid her phone facedown on the table, then went fishing in her purse. She didn’t need anything out of her bag. She just needed a reason to avoid Jazmin’s questioning gaze.

  Jazmin cleared her throat. “Girl, if you don’t quit pretending to look for something in your bag and look at me, I’m coming around this table.”

  Shaking her head, she set her purse aside and looked her friend in the eyes. “Okay. Go ahead.”

  “Did I just hear you say you’re going out with Campbell?” Her expression held a mixture of curiosity and humor.

  “Yes, nosy. But just like I told him, it’s not a date.”

  “Whatever, girl. Call it whatever you want, but you could definitely use some male company in your life.” She picked up the laminated menu resting in the iron holder on the table.

  “Oh, quit, Jazmin. You act like I haven’t been on a date in the last decade or something.”

  Jazmin fixed her with a pointed gaze. “Sierra, when was the last time you went on a date? Better yet, when was the last time you got some?”

  Sierra pursed her lips. “Shh! We’re in public. Don’t talk so loud.”

  Jazmin folded her arms over her chest. “That long, huh?”

  “It’s only been about five months.” She grabbed her own menu and looked over it, even though she already knew what she wanted.

  Jazmin’s next words fell out in a harsh whisper. “You haven’t gotten any in five months?”

  “That was my last date. The last time I got busy was probably six months ago.”

  This time Jazmin didn’t say anything. She just gave a series of slow, rather dramatic blinks.

  Sierra rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, this is...”

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s not a date.” Jazmin shook her head. “Let me ask you this. The last time you made love. Was it good enough to last you the rest of your life?”

  “Nah.” She remembered the encounter with her ex-boyfriend, but not because it was spectacularly good. His lack of concern for her pleasure was what led to the demise of their brief relationship. Since then, it had just seemed like less trouble to put those thoughts out of her mind. And she’d succeeded at doing that...until Campbell entered her space.

  “I’m not trying to define what you’re doing with Campbell. And you don’t have to, either.” Her friend set the menu down, apparently decided on what she would order. “All I’m saying is, if he offers you the good stuff, consider taking him up on it.”

  Blowing out a breath, Sierra sipped from her now tepid mocha. “Let’s just order. I’m starved.”

  They went to the counter and put in their orders. Each item on the breakfast menu took its name from one of the lighthouses dotting the North Carolina coastline, a few of which were visible from Sapphire Shores. Sierra requested the Cape Hatteras: egg white, spinach and white cheddar on brioche, while Jazmin went for the Okracoke, bacon, egg and sharp cheddar on a croissant.

  Back at the table with their food, they dug in.

  Swallowing a mouthful, Jazmin remarked, “You know I only tease you out of love, right?”

  She smiled. “Yes, Jazzy. I know.”

  “I just want you to be happy.”

  “You’re happy, and you don’t have a man.”

 
; “Trust me, girl. It ain’t from lack of trying.”

  Sierra’s burst of laughter turned quite a few heads in the coffee shop. Jazmin added a much-needed levity to her life, as well as a practical perspective. Jazmin had been the one to convince her to accept the role on the show and come to the island in the first place. They’d been friends for almost a decade and had navigated their fair share of the craziness that characterized life as women of color in the film industry. “I love you right back. Even though you get on my last nerve sometimes.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” Jazmin winked.

  Shaking her head, Sierra put her focus back on her breakfast.

  Still, she couldn’t help thinking about what Jazmin had said. What would happen on this “not-a-date”? Would it go the way she planned? Or would Campbell’s charm overwhelm her?

  Guess there’s only one way to find out.

  * * *

  Campbell arrived at Richardson Point Pier around a quarter after five. He’d wanted to get there a bit early on purpose, so he could stake out a good spot on the strip of beach. The sun still sat high in the sky, and there was plenty of daylight left. The perfect setting for his “not-a-date” with Sierra.

  There were a few benches installed among the dunes, set back about a half mile from the water. He spread out his trusty plaid blanket on the sand several steps from one of the benches. From his canvas grocery bag, he pulled out the chilled bottle and the plastic flutes. Once he’d placed the bottle in the small bucket and surrounded it with gel ice cubes, he sat down on the blanket to admire the scenery and get himself together before Sierra arrived.

  He faced the water, letting his eyes sweep over the rippling blue surface toward the horizon. A few gulls circled overhead, calling to each other and intermittently swooping down in search of a fish or two. The rich blue sky held only a few thin, wispy clouds, and the air on his skin felt warm and comforting, like an embrace. The day was so nice, it was hard to believe a tropical storm had passed only a few days ago. He wasn’t the only one taking advantage of the weather, and he spent the next few minutes people watching. There were families out, young children splashing in the water or building sandcastles. Couples strolled along the water’s edge, holding hands. There were a few folks out being active, running or walking their dogs. He even saw a lone guy in a baseball cap and shorts, using his metal detector to comb the beach for hidden treasures.

  As an angsty teen, in the throes of his middle-child blues, he’d often come here and sat on a bench for hours, watching his neighbors moving up and down the beach. Somehow it had made him feel less lonely, less left out. He didn’t have as much time on his hands now as he did back then, but he liked to come here as often as he could. These people, out walking, running and enjoying the beach, were the threads that wove together to make the island such a wonderful place to live. There had been times in the past when he’d thought of leaving and seeking his fortune elsewhere. The older he got, though, the more he felt connected to the island. Now he didn’t know if he’d ever live anywhere else.

  The wind changed direction, and he picked up the familiar scent of her: the citrus and cinnamon combination that had ruled his mind that night in the condo. Turning at the waist, he saw her strolling over the sand toward him.

  She wore a knee-length white sundress that bared her arms and legs to the sun, as well as a pair of flesh-colored sandals embellished with crystals. She’d tucked her hair up on top of her head in a neat bun, and wore no jewelry except for a pair of diamond studs sparkling in her ears. Her eyes were hidden away behind a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses with rose-tinted lenses. The handle of an oval-shaped basket rested in the crook of her elbow. She smiled in his direction.

  He smiled back. She looked radiant, fresh and, best of all, happy to see him.

  “Hi, Campbell.” She gave a little wave.

  “Hey, Sierra.” He stood as she reached the blanket. “Here, I’ll take that.” He grabbed the basket by the handle and set it down on the blanket. “It’s heavy. You must have brought something really good.”

  She knelt on the blanket next to the basket. “I whipped up some pasta primavera and grilled chicken. And sugar cookies for dessert. How does that sound?”

  He made a show of rubbing his stomach as he joined her on the blanket. “Sounds like the best non-date I’ve ever been on.”

  She giggled, jabbing him playfully with her elbow. Gesturing to his small galvanized bucket, she said, “What’s that? I thought you were bringing soda?”

  He shrugged. “You were the one who suggested soda. I’m not a big soda drinker, so I decided to just bring a little bubbly instead.”

  She pursed her lips. “Campbell, you know I’m not about to sit out here and drink alcohol with you. We’re not on a date, remember?”

  He shook his head. “I know what this is...and what it isn’t.” He reached into the bucket and lifted the bottle, so she could read the label. “But what’s a little sparkling grape juice between friends?”

  She threw her head back and laughed.

  The musical sound of her amusement touched his heart. She struck him as driven, focused and super serious. Knowing that he could get her to let go of that rigidity made him feel good in a way he hadn’t expected.

  When she finally got the giggles under control, she shook her head. “Oh, goodness. You are such a mess.”

  “I’ll keep it up all day if it makes you laugh like that.” He winked.

  That set her to laughing again. He enjoyed seeing her this way, so lighthearted.

  When the second round of laughter ended, she pulled out the hand sanitizer. With both their hands properly cleaned, she started pulling out the spread: plastic plates and utensils, and the container holding the still-warm pasta. She took off the lid, releasing the fragrant aroma into the air, and served them each a generous portion.

  While they ate, they chatted and watched the rolling waves.

  With their empty plates back in the basket, she sat next to him, her legs stretched in front of her and crossed at the ankles. Between nibbles of a sugar cookie, she talked about her childhood. “My parents gave me possibly the most straitlaced, dull upbringing possible. We lived in the burbs, far from all the excitement in Los Angeles. I took ballet, learned to play the cello, studied Mandarin Chinese.”

  “Sounds like you had a lot of great experiences,” he remarked. “Your parents wanted to expose you to the arts, culture and foreign languages.”

  “I know. I appreciate everything they did for me. They also put a lot of pressure on me. It was always ‘Sierra, be responsible.’ Or ‘Sierra, study hard.’ I love them so much, but I couldn’t wait to graduate and get out of there.”

  He listened to her words and heard the undertones. From the way she described her youth, it became clearer to him how she’d developed her serious outlook.

  “They weren’t terribly excited about me pursuing an acting career, either.” She finished her cookie, then took a long sip from her flute. “They eventually came around, though.”

  “Our relationships with our parents can be really complicated,” Cam mused. “When we were kids, my siblings and I knew we’d better do as we were told or catch all hell. Nowadays, we still love and respect Mom and Dad, but there’s also an element of friendship between us.”

  “I think the change happens when our parents start to see us as adults.” She set down her empty flute, then lifted the shades from her eyes. Her gaze resting on the water, she sighed. “I don’t think that happened with my parents until I was well into my twenties.”

  He chuckled. “Same here. My mom used to follow me around with a lint roller. She was always fixing my clothes, trying to tie my ties, all of that. She kept it up until I was about twenty-six.”

  Sierra laughed again. “I think that’s kind of sweet.”

  “Yeah, but try explaining to your date why your mama
’s brushing your hair.”

  Grinning, she admitted, “I can see how that would be awkward.”

  “It put a hell of a damper on my dating life. One woman called me a ‘mama’s boy.’”

  She reached over, gave his hand a little squeeze. “If it makes you feel any better, I see you as a full-grown man.”

  Their gazes met and locked.

  “I gotta tell you, that does make me feel better. A lot better.”

  They remained that way, lost in each other’s eyes, for several long moments. His lips tingled with the desire to kiss her, but he held back. She’d been very clear about this from the beginning. It wasn’t a date. I’m not going to pressure her.

  He set aside his wants in favor of her comfort. The evening would progress on her terms.

  If any kissing happened between them, she’d have to be the one to initiate it.

  Chapter 9

  Sierra released a contented sigh as she sat next to Campbell, watching the sun set. The last time she’d taken the time to sit and watch the event from start to finish had been years ago, back in film school. Back then, she’d been out carousing with her classmates by a bonfire. She could remember the excitement of that night, the feeling of freedom.

  Yet, sitting here with him, she felt something else. She felt calm, as if she were meant to be in his company. Being here with him felt as natural as the celestial event happening above them.

  She glanced his way. His eyes were on the horizon, taking in the spectacular beauty of nature. She watched the shadows playing over his face, and she realized she wanted to know him. She’d told him a bit of her life story, and now she wanted to hear some of his.

  As the darkness set in, and many of the other beachgoers packed up and left, she shifted closer to him.

  He turned to her, offering a grin, but saying nothing as she cozied up to his side. The heat of his body curled around her as their thighs brushed against each other. To keep from reaching for him, she laced her fingers together.

  She felt the spark between them, and she knew that, without a distraction, this “not-a-date” would soon take a very date-like turn. She scooted away from him, climbing to her feet. “I’m still feeling kind of full from dinner. Would you mind taking a walk with me?”