Bayside Fantasies (Bayside Summers Book 6) Page 2

  “Here you go, sugar.” Rowan set the grilled cheese sandwich she’d ordered on the counter.

  “Thanks.” Tegan had noticed that Rowan called everyone sugar. He had soulful eyes and an easy demeanor, which reminded her of her late uncle.

  “Joni would approve of your lunch. She loves grilled cheese.”

  Tegan took a bite of the sandwich and glanced at Joni, sitting at a table chatting with a young couple. She was wearing a blue sweater with a fuzzy pink bear in the center, a yellow skirt over blue leggings, a purple tutu, and gray-and-pink leg warmers with pink ruffles at the bottom. On her head she wore a blue knit hat with big owl eyes on the front and flaps that covered her ears. Joni had told Tegan the hat was her hootie.

  She turned back to Rowan and said, “Joni’s great. She seems to know everyone.”

  “My daughter has a knack for meeting people. She got that from her mother.” He wiped down the counter and said, “As you’ve probably noticed, most folks around here don’t keep their businesses open in the off season for the few customers who venture out in this weather, but I like knowing people have a place to go.”

  “You own the café?”

  “Yes, but I only work in it during the winter and early spring. I run a food truck in the warmer months. Besides, when school is canceled, it’s good for Joni to be around people instead of locked in a house with her old man all day.”

  “Sounds like you’re a good dad. I’m glad you’re open. The place is packed, so you must do well.”

  “We are remarkably busy today, but this isn’t typical for this time of year. We usually see only a handful of customers all week. I think people are going stir crazy with all this rain. But winters and early spring can be lonely around here. I’m glad to keep it open for those who need a place to hang out.” He ran his eyes over her wet hair and said, “Or dry out.”

  “I appreciate it. My house was far too quiet to get anything done. Does your wife work here, too?”

  He glanced at Joni and said, “We lost Joni’s mom to breast cancer a few years ago, but she wasn’t my wife. She didn’t believe in marriage.”

  “Oh.” Sadness washed through her. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Me too. Carlo—Carlotta—was the love of my life, and an incredible person. Joni and I do our best to keep her memory alive. Joni inherited Carlo’s flair for outlandish clothing.”

  “I like her outfit.” Tegan ate another bite of the grilled cheese and said, “Tutus are the bomb.”

  Rowan chuckled.

  “Hey, Row?” A man waved him over from the other end of the counter.

  “I’ll let you get back to work.” His gaze coasted over the plethora of notebooks and sticky notes littering the counter, and then he went to help the other customer.

  Tegan nibbled on a piece of her sandwich as she surveyed her notes. Her uncle’s amphitheater hosted local children’s theater groups throughout the summer. When Tegan had inherited the business, she’d had no idea there were so many things that went along with keeping it afloat. She’d assumed theater groups called to schedule the amphitheater and all she had to do was book them. But that was just a small piece of what it took to run the programs. Luckily, the children’s programs booked a year in advance and were already scheduled for this summer, leaving her mostly administrative work to wrap her arms around for that end of the business. But she and Harper were bringing a new aspect to the theater—episodic theater for adults. They were holding a soft launch of the program in late summer: one three-episode series, which would run for three nights each week, for the month of August. Harper was writing the plays and handling the productions, and Tegan was handling the marketing, website, and administration.

  The bell above the door chimed, and Joni’s cheerful voice rang out. “We have a no-cell-phone rule, peanut butter cup.”

  Tegan grinned. Joni called everyone by silly names and made up even sillier stories. She had already called Tegan Tinker Bell, banana split, and brownie bite, and when Tegan complimented her ruffled leggings, Joni said she’d gotten them from a gorilla at the park.

  Tegan glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes connected with the sharp blue eyes of the trench-coat-wearing winker from the gas station. He raked a hand through his wet hair, pulling it back from his face like a Dolce & Gabbana model. It made his sharp jawline and aquiline nose appear even more striking. That arrogant smile he’d flashed earlier reappeared, sending heat rushing up Tegan’s chest despite the warning flags waving in her head.

  Joni had impeccable taste.

  The guy was definitely as tempting as a peanut butter cup. The extra-large kind that required two hands to eat.

  The man patted Joni on the head and strode to the counter, eyes locked on Tegan, cell phone still firmly pressed to his ear.

  His piercing stare intensified the heat flaring inside her. She turned back to her work and stuffed a piece of grilled cheese into her mouth. She was not one of those women who lusted after assholes. The howler was more her type, happy and outgoing.

  Winker stepped beside her, and she forced herself not to glance over despite the delicious scent of expensive cologne and the rugged outdoors wafting off him.

  “The kid’s got five mill to put in the game. We’ve got ten times that,” he said with a bite of frustration. “We’ll get the deal. The kid’s just got stars in his eyes. Get the team on due diligence. You know the drill. And for crying out loud, shut down that magazine. I don’t want to hear about it again.”

  Rowan approached with an annoyed look on his face. He stopped across from the guy and said, “Sorry, sir, but we’ve got a no-cell-phone policy.”

  Now Tegan couldn’t resist stealing a glance to see his reaction.

  The guy was rubbing his forehead. He held up his index finger to Rowan, speaking into his phone. “Put the meeting off until I’m in the office next week.” He made a half-scoff, half-laughing sound and said, “Not in this lifetime.”

  Rowan arched a brow at Tegan like, Get a load of this guy.

  Joni climbed onto the stool beside her. The fringe of her light brown hair stuck out from beneath her hat, framing her pretty little face as she said, “I told Rude Dude no phones.”

  Rowan nodded his approval. “Attagirl, Jojo.”

  “T, I’ve got to run,” the guy said. He ended the call and set his phone on the counter. Then he splayed his hands in Rowan’s direction and said, “Sorry, man. You know how it is. Work never ends. So, how about a cup of dark roast?” He shrugged off his coat as he turned to look around, shaking water on Tegan’s notes. “Where can I hang this?”

  “Hey!” Tegan grabbed a napkin, dabbing furiously at her papers.

  “Damn. Sorry.” He grabbed a handful of napkins from a holder on the counter and wiped it over her sticky notes, tearing them from their place on the counter and smearing the ink.

  She slapped her hand over his and said, “Stop. I’ve got it.”

  He held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, but maybe you should take whatever this is to an office.”

  “What are you, the counter police?”

  JETT BIT BACK a curse, wondering if today could get any shittier. Between delayed flights and learning that one of the owners of Carlisle Enterprises was playing hardball, he was ready to lose his mind. Looking like a jerk to the woman whose animated behavior and sunny smile had seared itself into his memory when he’d first seen her was like a nail in his coffin.

  The guy behind the counter set a coffee mug and a menu in front of him, his protective gaze moving between the adorable little girl and the feisty blonde who was frantically trying to rearrange her sticky notes. Jett wondered if they were his wife and daughter.

  Great. In addition to sounding like a prick, he had been checking out the guy’s wife—here and at the gas station. If that didn’t scream asshole, he didn’t know what did.

  “I’m sorry,” Jett repeated. “I’ve been traveling all day in that mess out there, I’m on the verge of closing a huge busine
ss deal that has hit a few snags, and I took it out on the wrong people.” He glanced at the little girl with the owl hat and said, “I’m sorry, princess. I should have gotten right off the phone when you told me.” He looked at the guy behind the counter and said, “I didn’t mean to disregard your rules. I’m not really a jerk. Well, not that much of a jerk, anyway.”

  “That’s okay, man. I’m Rowan.” He extended his hand, and Jett shook it.

  “Jett,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Rowan nodded in the direction of the little girl and said, “Joni’s my daughter. She’s the captain of this ship. You’d be smart to listen to her.”

  “I will be sure to listen to Joni from now on.”

  “Listening is important!” Joni exclaimed. “It says you care.” She bounced off her seat and pointed toward a row of hooks on the wall. “Your coat goes there, Inspector Gadget.”

  Jett chuckled and turned to thank her, but she’d already skipped off to sit at a table with an older woman. He hung up his coat and went back to the counter, admiring the blonde as he approached. Rowan was a lucky man. She was truly beautiful, with high cheekbones, a slim, straight nose, an insanely sexy mouth, and a long, graceful neck. She wore an oversized gray sweater and jeans tucked into knee-high forest-green rain boots. Her hair was damp, and though it looked dark brown, he’d noticed several shades of blond whipping around her smiling face at the gas station.

  “I’m sorry about your notes,” he said as he sat beside her, noticing that she’d cleared the counter in front of his seat. “And the office comment. It’s been a day…”

  “It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have spread out so much.” She picked up what was left of a grilled cheese sandwich.

  “I could have been more careful, and more tactful. I’m really not an asshole.”

  Her big blue eyes sailed appraisingly over him as she ate the last of her sandwich. Jett was used to women checking him out, but this chick did not look interested. And why would she if she was married to the hippie dude behind the counter?

  “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt,” she finally said. “I think I know what your problem is. You need to loosen up.” She reached over and tugged at his tie, loosening it. “And this definitely has got to go.” She pushed his suit coat off his shoulders, tugging it down his arms.

  He took it off and laid it on the counter, amused by the aggressive stunner. He glanced at Rowan, to make sure he knew he wasn’t trying to flirt with his wife, and said, “Are you always this pushy?”

  “Pretty much. I can usually tell if someone is trustworthy within minutes of meeting them, but I hate trying to talk past things to figure that out. You’re so buttoned up, it’s hard to tell if it’s a costume or if it’s who you really are. You should take the tie off and unbutton that choker of a shirt. You’d probably feel less stressed.”

  “My clothes don’t make me stressed. And I assure you, I really am an Armani guy.”

  Her lips tipped up, and she said, “Maybe so. But Armani through and through? Or perhaps you’re Armani when it suits you and something else the rest of the time?”

  He caught sight of Rowan in his peripheral vision and said, “Do you scrutinize your husband this closely, too?”

  “I don’t have a husband, but if I had one and he acted like he had a stick up his butt, I would.”

  Feisty. He liked that. “I assure you, I don’t have a stick up my butt. I’ve just got a lot going on right now.” Like figuring out if you’re Rowan’s girlfriend.

  She cocked her head, a shimmer of seduction sparking in her eyes. “That’s a shame. A guy who dresses like you should be able to handle just about anything. Guess it’s more of a costume, then?”

  She was good. He wondered if she harnessed all that sass and let it loose in the bedroom, too, or if she was one of those women who knew how to rile a guy up but had zero follow-through.

  Why the hell was he even thinking about that when she was probably Rowan’s girlfriend?

  He took a sip of his coffee to distract himself from the lust simmering inside him and said, “I never said I couldn’t handle it. I’ve got a lot at stake right now.”

  She rolled her eyes, turning back to her notes, and said, “Don’t we all?”

  “What is all this that I almost ruined, anyway? Are you planning world domination? Revenge on an ex? Redefining the meaning of life?”

  “Something like that.” She rearranged a few sticky notes and said, “I’m creating a plan of attack for a business I inherited.”

  “A plan of attack. Is that anything like a business plan?” He scanned the sticky notes and notebooks, on which snippets of information were written. Community theater group meetings? More word of mouth? Taxes? Schedules?

  “Yes, exactly.”

  Rowan sauntered over, eyeing them curiously. “Everything okay here?”

  “Yes,” she said. “The sandwich was delicious, thank you.”

  “Anytime, sugar.” Rowan cleared her empty plate and walked away.

  Sugar? Girlfriend, he deduced. “Have you run a business before?” Jett asked.

  She turned keen eyes on him, sitting up straighter as she said, “For your information, I run two businesses, and I’m quite good at it.”

  “I don’t doubt that.” Nothing was sexier than confidence, except maybe the combination of confidence and sass, which she had in droves. “You strike me as the type of woman who determines what she wants and goes after it with everything she has.”

  “I am.” Heat sparked in her eyes again, and it felt like a challenge.

  A very enticing challenge, though she could be playing him to get her man’s attention. He hated chicks who did that. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, he took the bait and said, “What kind of businesses are you involved in?”

  “I do photo editing, and I make children’s costumes. I’m also a nip-and-tuck girl for a clothing shop in Maryland, which I had to give up while I’m here, but I’ll return to it in the fall.”

  He had no idea what a nip-and-tuck girl was, but that didn’t stop lewd innuendos about nipping and tucking from forming in his mind. He held them back and processed her response. If she was here only temporarily, maybe she wasn’t Rowan’s girlfriend after all. “What about the photo editing and costume making? Are those things you’re doing while you’re here, or are they on hold as well?”

  “I can do those anywhere, so I’ll continue doing them while I get up to speed with the business.”

  “You’re very industrious.”

  “I don’t like to be bored at work.” Her voice turned low and seductive as she said, “Or anywhere else.”

  “That’s something else we have in common.”

  “Else?”

  He wanted to say they both knew something was brewing between them, but he held back just in case she was Rowan’s better half and said, “We’re both business owners.”

  Her lips curved up and she said, “What business are you in?”

  “The business of making money.” He glanced at her notes and said, “But if those notes are your idea of a business plan, then you’ve got bigger problems than a little smeared ink.”

  “Looks like I was wrong.” Her eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t the buttoned-up shirt or the tie choking out the kindness in your brain. You just aren’t very tactful, are you?”

  “The woman who practically undressed me has an issue with directness?” He grinned.

  “I…No.”

  “Good.” He leaned closer and said, “Then tell me, are you and Rowan a couple, or are you single?”

  Her brows lifted. “Me and Rowan? I just met him and Joni today.”

  “He seemed protective of you. I assumed you were together.”

  He knew better than to assume anything. He was a shrewd businessman who had built an empire taking over multimillion-dollar corporations and teaching starry-eyed business owners how to exceed their biggest dreams. He could negotiate circles around the toughest competit
ors, and yet this petite, sharp-witted, blond-haired beauty had thrown him off his game?

  That was damn refreshing.

  She gathered her things into a messy pile and said, “I think Rowan is just a nice guy who doesn’t like people coming into his café, ignoring his daughter, and acting like they rule the roost.”

  “Ouch. Epic fail on my first impression.”

  “Second impression,” she said lightly as she stuffed the notebooks and the pile of sticky notes into a messenger bag.

  Strike two. She was right.

  But he wasn’t ready for their conversation to end. Hoping to score a little more time with her, he said, “Let me make it up to you. I can help you with your business plan if you’d like.”

  She ran an assessing eye over him as she pushed from her chair and fished money out of her bag. “I’m pretty sure I can handle it. But thank you for offering.” She tossed the money on the counter next to her bag and walked away like she was on a mission. Her sexy hips swayed temptingly as she made her way to the hooks on the wall and snagged her bright yellow-and-white raincoat.

  As she put it on, Joni raced across the café and said, “Where are you going, jelly bean?”

  “Home, hootie girl.”

  Joni wrapped her arms around the blonde’s legs, and Jett realized he’d been so taken with her, he’d forgotten to ask her name. She hugged Joni, and then she crouched before her, her whole face brightening as she said, “Maybe I’ll see you here again sometime.”

  “I hope so! Will you bring the princess drawings you told me about? And can you make me a costume? I like mermaids, but I want wings on it, like a bird, and fur, like a lion.”

  “That sounds magnificent! I can try to make it, but it’ll take some time.”

  “We got time!” Joni threw her arms around the blonde’s neck and said, “Don’t let the hurricane get you.”

  “Hurricane, shmurricane,” the blonde said with a wave of her hand. She pushed to her feet and said, “It can’t get much worse than it has been all day. See you soon, raccoon.”

  “After a while, monkey butt!” Joni said as she ran behind the counter to her father, who scooped her up and kissed her cheek.