Bayside Fantasies (Bayside Summers Book 6) Read online

  Before he could respond, his father strode away, leaving Jett to curse himself for saying shit he didn’t mean. He didn’t think his workaholic father had ever cheated on his mother. That wasn’t even a consideration.

  And why he’d spewed such a hateful comment was a mystery to him.

  His father turned around, and their gazes collided. Jett stood up taller, bracing for a verbal lashing.

  “You coming, son?” his father asked casually. “There’s a lot of work to be done.”

  Chapter Twelve

  LIKE MANY SHOPS on the Cape, the Corner Market resembled an old two-story, cedar-sided house. The white fence surrounding the front patio had been broken during the storm. Debris had crashed through the window, and a large branch from the old tree out front had snapped and crushed the front of the roof. Jett and his father, along with friends and neighbors Jett hadn’t seen in years, waded through ankle-high water, clearing shelves and salvaging goods. They got the water under control in a couple of hours, but it took several more to clean up the mud and empty the building. Jett fielded business calls, talking while he worked. His mother and Tegan had brought lunch from the deli down the street a few hours ago. The deli provided food at no cost to the volunteers. His mother and Tegan had been running between the market and several neighboring businesses, pitching in wherever they could.

  Jett glanced out the front window, catching sight of Tegan holding the arm of an older woman as she walked with her toward the drugstore. They’d been in Hyannis all day, and Tegan hadn’t taken a single break. When she’d brought bottles of water for him and his father a little while ago, she’d been flushed, and he’d wanted to haul her pretty ass into the stockroom and make her feel all kinds of good. But he’d quickly learned that she’d been fraught with worry because several of the shop owners were talking about needing to close for a good part of the season. He’d explained to her that most of the businesses on the Cape survived only because of the summer tourist traffic. Sadness had risen in her eyes. She’d said she felt selfish worrying about the amphitheater when so many families stood to lose so much.

  He was thinking about that when his mother walked into his line of sight.

  “You okay, Jett?” she said. “You look troubled.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, stacking cans into a box. “Who’s that with Tegan?”

  “I’m not sure. Tegan saw her get off the bus on our way over, and she went to help her. She’s a special girl, honey. Did you know she travels all over the world by herself? She’s very adventurous and self-assured.”

  He heard the hope in his mother’s voice and said, “Mom, you know I’m not in a position for a relationship.”

  “Oh yes, you’ve made that quite clear. Tegan was very forthright with me. She said she’s too focused on running the amphitheater to get tied down in dating and such. The way she said it reminded me of you. I guess I don’t understand kids these days.”

  “I’m in my midthirties, Mom.”

  “You know what I mean. You’ll always be my boy. I just don’t understand how dating could ever be a bad thing. You work so hard. I’d think you’d want someone to share your evenings with, to get your mind off work and relax.”

  He gave her a deadpan look. “Mom…”

  “I know. I’m just saying that dating should be a happy thought, not a pain in your rear end. Why didn’t you tell me she was Harvey Fine’s niece? He was such a wonderful man.”

  “I didn’t have time to say much when we arrived. I have only known her for a couple of days, Mom. It’s not like I know her family history.”

  Her eyes held a hint of motherly intuition, the kind that said she knew just what they’d been doing for those days. “She said you were helping her with a business plan for a new production arm to her uncle’s business. That’s a big undertaking for a single woman.”

  “It’s a big undertaking for anyone,” he corrected her. “She’s experienced running her own businesses and claims she’s doing fine. She can handle it.”

  “Yes, I believe she can. Oh, there’s Bryson. I want to catch up with him.” Bryson Myer was a year older than Jett. They’d played sports together in high school. “I’m really glad you’re here.” His mother gave him a quick peck on the cheek and said, “Tegan said you’d stay for dinner. Your father’s going to be thrilled. I have chicken pot pie soup in the Crock-Pot.”

  Jesus, Tegs. Dinner…?

  Despite not being thrilled about sticking around for dinner, his stomach churned excitedly at the thought of his mother’s cooking.

  As his mother went to see Bryson, Jett looked across the room at his father, pulling cans from a high shelf and stacking them in a box. His father had always been an aggressive leader, taking charge of every room he walked into, commanding and directing, even when he had no business doing so. It was something Jett both admired and disliked about him. Today his father had thrown him for a loop. Another loop, he corrected himself. He’d come into the building and found Bryson, who was coordinating the efforts of the volunteers. Instead of telling Bryson what he was willing to do, which Jett would have put money on his father doing, his father had surprised him and said, I’m here to work. Where do you need me? He’d been busting his ass ever since.

  His father clipped his hand on the edge of the shelf as he hoisted the box into his arms, and grimaced.

  “Dad! I’ll get that.” Jett hurried over and took the box from him. “You shouldn’t lift anything this heavy.”

  “I might be old, but I’m not feeble.”

  “I didn’t mean…” Jett’s eyes caught on his father’s hand. “You’re bleeding.” He set down the box.

  “It’s nothing.”

  He inspected the gash. “That doesn’t look like nothing.”

  “It’s fine. I’m a doctor, remember?”

  “Yeah, and sick children need your hands to be in working order. Who’s going to save their lives if you get hurt?” He motioned toward the restroom. “Let’s go get that cleaned up.”

  “When did you start taking care of me?”

  “Since you turned into a man I don’t recognize and put your skilled hands on the back burner.”

  “Maybe you’ll be around to help when I’m too old to take care of myself after all.”

  “There’s a world of difference between making you clean out a wound and changing your old-man diapers.”

  His father put a hand on Jett’s shoulder and said, “I’d never expect that of you, son. No need for you to get jealous over your old man’s hardware.”

  THEY WERE STILL chuckling when they came out of the men’s room. Jett didn’t know how it happened, but they were actually getting along.

  “Tell me about your girl,” his father said.

  “She’s not my girl, Dad. We’re just…good friends.” In and out of the bedroom.

  The truth in that thought threw him for a minute. He’d been thinking about Tegan all day. Not just about how much he wanted to kiss her or take her in his arms every damn time he saw her, but about her business and ways he could help her get things organized and off the ground. He thought about how selflessly she’d come with him today and how effortlessly she’d disarmed his stone-hearted father.

  Correction.

  My once-stone-hearted father.

  His father had been anything but stone-hearted today, working tirelessly without complaint, checking in with the other volunteers to make sure they didn’t need a break. Jett hadn’t joked around with his father since he was just a boy, before his father had moved out. Before his life had taken a turn for the worse.

  Who was he kidding? Before his life had been forever changed.

  Mitchell Myer was heading their way. The robust man who had taken Jett’s ornery ass under his wing looked like he’d aged ten years since Jett had seen him last Christmas. His shoulders were rounded forward, his gray hair looked thinner, and his cheeks were sunken. He looked devastated. Broken.

  “Mitchell,” his father said.

&n
bsp; “Douglas. Jett.” Mitchell shook their hands. “Thanks for coming out to help. Mother Nature sure threw us for a loop this time.”

  “I’m sorry you got hit so hard,” Jett said.

  “Me too.” Mitchell exhaled wearily. “Did you hear about Ralph Stowe?”

  Ralph Stowe owned the sporting goods shop down the road. When Jett was growing up, he’d donated cleats and other sporting supplies to some of the less fortunate families around town. Ralph and Beth Stowe had five grown children, one of whom was disabled and lived with them.

  His father said, “Yes. I just heard. Sherry and I will swing by the hospital tomorrow and visit Beth to see if she needs anything.”

  “What happened to Mr. Stowe?” Jett asked.

  “He was driving home from Boston last night and was one of five cars in a pileup on the highway,” his father explained. “He suffered a head injury and several broken bones. Luckily, he should make a complete recovery, but it’ll take some time.”

  “That’s awful. Is anyone taking care of the store?” Jett asked.

  “Yes. He has a very capable manager on site handling things,” Mitchell said. “His oldest daughters are driving in from Boston today to help Beth care for Stacy, and his two boys are flying in tomorrow.”

  “If I can do anything, please let me know,” Jett offered.

  “Know anyone who can work a miracle?” Mitchell said jokingly, but Jett knew he wasn’t joking.

  “We’ll get it all cleaned up and help out as much as we can,” his father reassured him. “Bryson said you might have to close for a good bit of the season. That’s a hard knock to take.”

  Mitchell scoffed. “A hard kick in the ass is what you mean. These storms don’t just affect my family. Sure, Bry has his own son to feed now, and he relies on the income from the market, as we do, but I’ve got fifteen full-time employees whose families also rely on our success. We make eighty percent of our income over the summers. With half the stores on this block alone suffering damage, I don’t expect they’ll be able to find employment anytime soon to cover their income. Normally I’d try to help them out, but between the repairs from when those three nor’easters wreaked havoc with our house and business two winters ago, helping Jamie get back on her feet after losing everything in that hurricane a few years back, and helping Bryson cover his lawyer fees for his divorce, we’re already mortgaged to the hilt.”

  No wonder the guy looked broken.

  Outside of his brothers and his friends at Bayside, Jett hadn’t kept up with many people he’d grown up with. He’d known Mitchell’s daughter, Jamie, had moved to North Carolina and that Bryson had gotten married, but he’d never heard about the rest.

  “I’m afraid it might be time to cut our losses and find something a little less dependent on the elements to put food on the table.” Mitchell looked around the store and said, “We’ve had a good run of it. I can’t complain.”

  “What you need is an angel investor,” his father said.

  “The whole damn town does,” Mitchell said. “I’d better get over to the drugstore. I want to make sure Sally’s doing okay.” He shook their hands again and said, “Thanks again.”

  After he walked away, Jett said, “They need a whole lot more than an angel investor.”

  “No doubt,” his father said.

  “Someone to negotiate on their behalf to get discounts for repairs and teach them how to turn their mom and pop shops into more profitable businesses so times like these don’t sink them. They need better contingency plans.”

  “You can’t exactly plan for a tree through the roof.”

  “No, but they can learn from this. Do a risk assessment of the trees, hanging signs, and anything else that may cause damage in another storm and eliminate the risks as best they can. Have annual building inspections to ensure there are no leaks or other structural issues in general, not just for storms. These are old buildings and need to be treated as such.”

  “All that takes money and know-how.”

  “That’s true. But you know as well as I do, it takes money to make money. If that branch had been cut back before the storm, we wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

  “Well, son, then they need a miracle after all, because it would take a really special person to dedicate that type of time, energy, and resources to this town.”

  “Not to mention the emotional toll of dealing with all the bullshit. It would take a team, not just one person.”

  His father held his gaze and said, “Led by someone who cares enough about the town to make it happen. There are very few people who can make something of that magnitude come to fruition, and around here, I know of only one.”

  “Who?”

  His father cocked his head, grinning.

  “Oh, hell no. I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m working on acquiring Carlisle Enterprises. Their headquarters is in London, and once I take it over, it’s going to suck up every second of my time for the next several months.”

  “It was worth a shot. Hopefully Mitchell and the others will find their way.”

  “You’ve got more money than you could ever spend. You can do it,” Jett suggested.

  “Son, I know a hell of a lot about one thing—medicine. And more specifically, neurology. It takes a far smarter man than me to understand the ins and outs of multiple businesses, much less how to come back from this type of devastation.”

  Jett was struck by the message his father was sending and the look of pride and something more in his eyes. Something Jett had rarely seen since he was a kid. It was the look that told him his father believed he could do anything he put his mind to. Jett was riveted by that look.

  “I think Bryson has taken a shine to Tegan,” his father said, jostling Jett from his thoughts.

  He followed his father’s gaze to Tegan and Bryson standing a few feet away. Tegan was gushing over something Bryson was showing her in his wallet. Jealousy clawed up Jett’s spine.

  “It looks like Bryson’s trying to reel her in with pictures of his adorable towheaded little boy. But”—his father raised his brows, amusement dancing in his sharp blue eyes—“she’s not your girl, so you probably won’t give it another thought.”

  Like hell he wouldn’t. She may not be his girl, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to be Bryson’s.

  Chapter Thirteen

  TEGAN COULD HARDLY keep a straight face as she and Jett climbed from the SUV at his parents’ house that evening. Jett had swooped in like an eagle defending his nest while she was talking with Bryson. He’d draped an arm over her shoulder, acting like they were a couple. But he’d been tight-lipped ever since. She probably shouldn’t enjoy the thrill his possessiveness incited in her, but how could she not? Ever since their first kiss, she had been trying not to let her feelings for Jett grow into something more than friendship, but it was proving to be an impossible task. He was so much more than the uptight suit-wearing guy she’d met at the café, the man who’d seemed above getting his hands dirty and had insisted that work was his life. He had not only pushed off work to help her, but he’d also helped their friends at Bayside, jumped right in to help the lovely couple earlier today, and spent the rest of the day doing things for others. She knew they were together only because of their FWB agreement and that if she let on about her feelings, he’d probably end things.

  But keeping such strict emotional boundaries was killing her.

  Did he even recognize how much happiness he’d exuded as he’d greeted old friends with pats on the back? As he’d worked alongside his father, a man he clearly had trouble seeing for the man he was trying so hard to be? Or was he fooling her and everyone else?

  As his father unlocked the door, she looked at the two of them. They were very much alike, serious minded and work oriented. Two peas in a pod in that regard. But she’d noticed that Jett was warmer toward the people he’d talked with today than his father was. Douglas hadn’t been cold. He’d simply been more poised, caring with an air of dignity that said he was
an important man. But what Jett’s father lacked in warmth, his mother made up for in droves.

  Jett put a hand on Tegan’s back as they followed his parents into their house. After they removed their wet boots and jackets, Jett took her arm, walking toward a stairway to their left, and said, “I’ll show Tegan where to wash up.”

  “Okay, sweetheart,” his mother said. “There are fresh towels in the linen closet.”

  Jett dragged her up the stairs like he was on a mission.

  “I don’t think your mom bought our just friends label,” she whispered.

  He sort of grunted as he led her into a luxurious bathroom and closed the door behind them. He stalked toward her with a predatory look in his eyes. Her pulse quickened. He was so freaking hot he should be illegal.

  “New FWB rule,” he said gruffly. “No filling up your dating card when we’re out together.”

  She couldn’t stop the smile splitting her cheeks. Did that mean he felt their connection as deeply as she did? Did he want more? Hope fluttered inside her. Bryson was super-sexy, and he was as nice as could be, but she wasn’t interested in him. He didn’t have an edge like Jett, that certain something that made her light up inside every time their eyes connected. Bryson also had a little boy, and Tegan was nowhere near ready to settle down in that manner. She had a business to build and adventures to go on.

  But she wasn’t about to tell Jett that. Not when this was the perfect time to fish for his true feelings.

  “But we said we could date other people,” she said, wide-eyed and innocent.

  His eyes narrowed. “When we’re not together.”

  “It’s not like I’d go out with him tonight, while you’re here.”