Bayside Passions (Bayside Summers Book 2) Read online

  She hurried into her room, which still looked like a tornado had hit it. Tango and Cash were curled up in her open suitcase. She really needed to unpack. This morning she’d run around the house looking for her keys for twenty minutes before giving up and borrowing Desiree’s car to pick up the plants and picture hangers for her yoga studio. While she was out, she’d handed out a few flyers—and got lost. Twice. She’d called Dean and he’d patiently directed her better than any fancy GPS system ever could. She’d probably find her keys buried somewhere beneath the clothes, but she didn’t have time to look now. It was almost six, and she promised Dean she’d be ready on time.

  She moved the kitties to the bed and dug through her suitcase, choosing her favorite pink miniskirt, a cute cotton number that went perfectly with the new flowy gray tank top with a colorful dream catcher embroidered into it. She’d bought it from her friend Morgyn Montgomery’s boutique before leaving Oak Falls.

  Her toiletries were scattered on top of her dresser, but for the life of her, she couldn’t find her razor.

  She showered, used Dean’s razor so she wouldn’t have furry legs, and then quickly dried her hair and got ready to go. She took one last look in the mirror. Her hair was perfect, fluffy and wavy but not overdone. She smoked up her eyes the way she had the night they’d gone to the bar. A few bangles around her wrist and a pair of pretty dangling earrings and cute strappy heels took her outfit from beachy to beautiful. She was excited to go out with Dean. No matter what they were calling it, in her mind, it was a date.

  Hoping to make a grand entrance so she could see his appreciative expression, she straightened her spine, inhaled a calming breath to combat the butterflies swarming in her belly, and opened her bedroom door.

  DEAN LIFTED HIS gaze slowly, drinking in every inch of Emery’s long legs to the edge of her pink ultramini miniskirt, which covered the light brown birthmark he’d discovered on her inner thigh earlier that morning. Mm. He’d spent the day in a state of heightened desire, remembering her alluring taste and those addicting sounds she’d made that morning.

  He continued his visual feast, moving up her torso to the outline of her breasts in a cute tank top that would look even cuter on his floor. His gaze trailed up her long, graceful neck. His mouth watered with the memory of how sweet and hot her neck tasted and the way she moved beneath him when he slicked his tongue around her ear.

  His gaze lingered on her mouth, imagining her luscious lips wrapped around his cock and her gorgeous eyes gazing up at him as she loved him. Fuck. Now he was hard. He could stare at her lips all day long. He forced his gaze north and lost his breath at the emotions staring back at him. Gone was the white-hot desire to have her mouth around his shaft, replaced with the need to have her in his arms.

  He stepped forward, one arm sweeping around her waist, the other holding the bouquet he’d made for her, of tiger lilies, purple lace cap, Queen Anne’s lace, yellow flag bottoms, daisies, and other flowers he knew she’d love. “Hi, beautiful.”

  “Flowers?” she said softly. “You should give dating lessons. I’ve never been given flowers. They’re gorgeous. Thank you.”

  He liked knowing he’d achieved another first with Emery. “Not nearly as gorgeous as you.”

  He’d missed her so much today he’d ached with it. He tried to go slow, but his body would have no part of slow. He kissed her ravenously, causing them to stumble. Her back met the wall, and she made a mewling sound.

  He tore his mouth away. “Sorry. I got carried away. Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she panted out. “That wasn’t a cry of pain.”

  She grabbed his shirt and tugged him into another fierce kiss. He wanted to drop the flowers and strip her bare, so they could finish what they’d started that morning. But this wasn’t what he’d planned for tonight. This was their second example outing, and he wanted her to know she was worth more than just sex, that together they could enjoy more than hot make-out sessions. He forced himself to pull away, groaning as their lips parted.

  “That was not meant as an example,” he said sharply.

  She giggled. “I have a feeling I won’t have to worry about any other guys kissing me for a while.”

  A while my ass. He tightened his grip on her. Yeah, he was possessive as fuck about her, and he wasn’t about to let anything come between them.

  Emery must have read his mind, because she said, “We can delete those last three words.”

  “God, you’re amazing.” He kissed her, quick and tender, so he didn’t get sidetracked again. He released her only to pick up the tall green gardening boots he’d bought for her earlier in the day.

  “Flowers and rain boots? Is my man into something kinky?”

  “Doll, you just keep calling me your man, and rest assured, I’m into you. We’ll be as kinky as you want to be.” He dropped to one knee and began removing her sandals. He couldn’t resist sliding his hands up her outer thighs and kissing the soft expanse of tanned skin just beneath the hem of her skirt.

  Her breath left her lungs in one fast breath. An invitation? When her eyes fluttered closed, he knew it was, but one taste of her treasure trove would unravel him, and he had plans for them tonight. He forced himself to finish taking off her sandals.

  Later, he’d take more than a taste.

  She gazed down at him as he withdrew a pair of pink ankle socks from his pocket. “Socks,” she whispered. “You thought of everything.”

  When it came to Emery, thinking of the little things wasn’t difficult. It came naturally. He wanted her to be comfortable. But he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to mark his territory. He held up the socks for her to read the message written across the toes: TAKEN.

  “Only you, big guy…” She smiled as he put the socks and boots on her feet. “How did you know my size?”

  He pointed to her flip-flops, which he’d collected from around the living room and lined up by the patio doors.

  “My, aren’t you a clever boy,” she said as he rose to his feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. “These boots are super cute. Do you know something about the weather that I don’t?”

  “No, and no more questions.”

  “If you’re not going to tell me where we’re going, at least tell me if I should change my clothes.”

  He was thrilled by how openly affectionate and accepting of their budding relationship she’d become. When he’d kissed her at breakfast in front of their friends, he’d expected her to recoil. Not only hadn’t she recoiled, but she’d said they felt too right to be wrong. He felt like he’d won the lottery. He was determined to prove to her that their long-distance friendship was the foundation of their future.

  Dean took her hand and led her to the kitchen. He filled a vase with water and said, “You’re this landscaper’s fantasy come true. You’re not changing a thing.”

  He put her bouquet in the vase and held her hand, guiding her as they walked out the back door. “If that outfit gets dirty or ruined, I’ll buy you a new one.” Her skirt barely covered her ass, and she looked so delectable, he said, “I’ll buy you a closetful of them.”

  They wound through the gardens and around the tall bushes buffering his house from the rest of the resort property. He loved his privacy, and when he’d bought into the resort with Rick and Drake, he’d considered remaining in the cottage he owned in Eastham. But the minute he’d seen the cottage he now lived in, he’d fallen in love with it. Cordoning it off from the rest of the property in a way that looked natural made all the difference. He had no commute to work, except on the days he worked at the gardens at the hospital or LOCAL, where he enjoyed teaching residents how to care for the gardens.

  They followed the narrow path lined with wildflowers and low-lying shrubs he’d planted in the spring. The solar lights in the ground hadn’t turned on yet, but they would soon, as the evening swallowed the last of the daylight.

  A breeze swept over the dunes, and Dean pulled Emery closer. “Cold?�
�

  “No. This is wonderful compared to home, where the humidity sucks the life out of you.”

  “Careful talking about sucking, doll. I’m trying not to think about how sexy you look in that skimpy outfit.”

  She pretended to write in the air. “Buy more skimpy outfits. Check.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  AS THEY NEARED the end of the path, he said, “Close your eyes, doll.”

  “Hm. A long romantic walk, a mysterious request to close my eyes.” She closed her eyes and leaned into him. “You’ve got me wondering what’s up your sleeve. Not that I think you can fit much beyond those muscles of yours. But the rain boots have me curious. What exactly do you have in mind, Mr. Masters?”

  “Our second example outing.”

  She squeezed his arm. “You really think you can cover all the bases of how I deserve to be treated in three example outings? When I move into the Summer House on Wednesday, will I be well schooled in all things relationship related? That seems awfully fast.”

  He bristled with the reminder that she hadn’t moved into his place for good. He hated the idea of her moving out, but with any luck, by the time tomorrow afternoon came, she wouldn’t want to go anywhere other than directly into his bed.

  “I assure you, by the end of our third date—”

  “Outing,” she corrected him with a teasing giggle.

  “Right. By the end of tomorrow, I will have ruined you for any other man.”

  When they reached the end of the path, the gardens Dean had planted over the spring, the area he’d cleared and prepared for the patio, and the view of the bay came into focus, along with pallets of flagstone, various tools, and other landscape paraphernalia. He’d left an unfinished border between the gardens and the area where the patio would be installed, to be filled in and planted afterward. In the center of what would become the patio stood a massive northern red oak, beneath which there was a table set for two. As if by magic, the solar lights in the tree sparked to life, twinkling above the table, where a chilled bottle of wine and dinner he’d picked up at Van Rensselaer’s, one of the best restaurants on the Cape, awaited. Their meal was hidden within fancy serving dishes he’d borrowed from his buddy who owned the restaurant.

  “Okay, Em. Open your eyes.”

  She gasped with awe as she took it all in. “Dean.”

  Still holding on to his arm, she gazed up at the sparkling lights, at the pretty serving dishes on the table, and the view of the bay. “You did all of this for me?”

  “Yes, but don’t get too excited yet, because look around us.”

  She glanced around and her brows knitted, as if she’d only just noticed the pallets of flagstone and the accouterments needed for creating a patio. “Um…?”

  “We’re going to lay the flagstone together.”

  Her beautiful eyes widened. “This is where you’re making the patio? Really? I get to help?”

  Her excitement made him laugh. “Yes. If you don’t mind.”

  She threw her arms around his neck, sending him stumbling backward as he caught her around the waist.

  “This is the best example outing ever!” she said with a mile-wide smile. She trapped her lower lip with her teeth, and her eyes darkened as she tightened her hold around his neck. “I have a confession to make.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “When you said you were looking forward to getting dirty with me, my mind went elsewhere.”

  “Don’t worry, doll. We are getting down and dirty tonight. Very dirty.”

  She put her mouth beside his ear and whispered, “I’m not wearing any panties.”

  Holy. Fuck.

  His hand slid down her back, and just as his fingers grazed the curve at the base of her spine, she grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

  “Uh, uh, uh, Mr. Masters. Unless you think it’s appropriate for a guy to grab my bare ass on the second date?” She wiggled out of his arms and made a show of smoothing her tiny skirt over her thighs.

  “Obviously you think it’s okay, since you came on this date naked under that skirt.” He ground out a curse. “Just thinking about you without panties on has me hard.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry?”

  He tugged her against him again. “You are a little temptress.” He put his hand on her ass, leaving the skirt between them, and squeezed. “I ought to back you up against that tree and till your garden.” He had no idea how he’d get through another minute, much less the evening, with this new information taunting him.

  She feigned a gasp. “Mr. Masters, that is totally inappropriate. I’m not that type of girl.”

  “Just what type of girl are you?” It was a loaded question, one he knew the answer to. Emery was a street-savvy, smart, sexy woman who owned her sexuality, and he loved that about her.

  She slithered out of his arms again and took his hand. “The kind that is going to enjoy being wined and dined by her man so she can fulfill all his fantasies after she puts these pretty new boots to use.”

  OVER THE PAST few days, Dean had been more thoughtful and made Emery laugh more than any guy she’d ever gone out with. But tonight? This romantic dinner of shrimp cocktail, lobster cakes, and salad? These adorable boots and oh so very Dean socks? And most exciting, the thought that he wanted her to help him with the patio? The idea of creating something beautiful and lasting together was more than she could have hoped for. Even if they didn’t get dirty later, the night was already the best date she’d ever been on.

  They laughed about using one plate, which they did, and fed each other like those sickeningly romantic couples she’d seen in movies. Only none of it felt sickening or over the top. They were falling into their relationship just as naturally as they’d fallen into their friendship.

  After they finished eating, Dean leaned in, kissing her slowly and sensually. He put his hand on her thigh, inching it up to the edge of her skirt. He’d made sexual advances throughout dinner, and Emery was having trouble remembering why she should fend them off. But for the first time in her life, she wanted more time with a man. She wanted all of tonight—the romantic dinner, working side by side, and much later, after they’d squeezed every bit they could out of the evening, she wanted the rest of him.

  “I’m so glad you’re not hundreds of miles away anymore.”

  “Me too. I still can’t believe we’re together.” She removed his hand from her leg and said with a prim and proper air she had no business conveying, “Mr. Masters, please keep your hands to yourself.” She wasn’t just denying him; she was denying herself the pleasures she knew he would bring. And she was surprised to find her arousal heightening with each refusal.

  “My hands have a mind all their own, but I’ll try to distract them. How are you making out here without your family?” He lowered his mouth to her neck, placing several tender kisses along her shoulder.

  She tried to concentrate on his question and not the heat pooling between her legs. “I think we made out pretty well this morning. I’m not sure why you would want my family involved.”

  He drew back and smirked. “You are one dirty-minded girl.”

  “No, I’m your dirty-minded girl,” she said, feeling a little high from the wine—and from the sexy banter. “Words matter, Mr. Masters. When enjoying a romantic dinner, a girl likes to feel as though she’s the only woman on her man’s mind, not that she could be any female on the planet.”

  “There’s no one else on the planet I’d rather be with than you.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “Now, tell me, Emery. How are you holding up hundreds of miles away from your family?”

  She was momentarily caught off guard by his question. With all the heat swirling around them, he was wondering if she was homesick? She wasn’t used to anyone other than her family caring enough about her to think about that type of thing. “I’m good. I haven’t had time to miss them yet.”

  He studied her face for a minute, as if he were weighing her answer. “One of your conce
rns before moving here was missing your family. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.”

  He pushed to his feet and brought her up with him. “Are you ready to get down and dirty?” He waggled his brows.

  “Okay, Casanova. Show me how to lay this flagstone.”

  “I’ll show you how to lay something, but it’s not going to be flagstone.” He tugged her against him and kissed her deeply. Smiling against her lips, he said, “I told you we could be friends and more.”

  “Let’s get this patio done so we can get to the more part.”

  Chuckling, Dean stepped back and turned away to adjust himself. “I’m ready for the more part now.”

  “No way. You promised I could help you with the patio, and I think my example outing should include a man who keeps his promises.” She came up behind him and hugged him, running her hands up his chest, then down his abs and over his zipper, feeling his erection against it. “I love knowing I have that effect on you.”

  When he spun around, she dashed away. He caught her by the waist and she giggled and wiggled as he carried her to the garden. He turned her in his arms and took her in a deliciously hot kiss. His hand pushed beneath her skirt and he cupped her ass. She inhaled a sharp breath at the feel of his big, rough hand on her skin.

  “You’re a cocktease,” he said against her lips, with a smile that made her want to tease him even more.

  “I’m your cocktease. Mind your words, Mr. Masters.” She didn’t know what had gotten into her, exclaiming so openly that she was his as she pressed herself against his very eager arousal, but she was going with it. For once, she felt like she could be her real, true self without holding back, and it felt amazing. “What’s wrong, big guy? Can’t handle the heat? Am I too much for you?”

  “Never,” he said through gritted teeth.

  She loved seeing him barely able to restrain himself. She wanted him so crazy with desire, by the time they went to his cottage he couldn’t control himself. The thought of experiencing all of the raw passion she saw simmering in his eyes, felt in his every touch, made every advance more difficult to deny than the last.