Bayside Passions (Bayside Summers Book 2) Page 9

  Oh, how she wished that were true! She forced herself to step out of his reach, her heart thundering so hard she was sure he could see it, and she did what she knew she had to in order to redirect the heat between them, even if it felt wrong. “Was this your plan all along? To get me here so you could make your move?”

  Anger crawled up his features, but it was the deeper emotions keeping that anger at bay that had her dumbstruck. “Do you think I planted the naked guy in Violet’s cottage? Jesus, Emery. I saw you were uncomfortable and I gave you a solution.” His gaze softened. “You blew into my life last Christmas, and you’ve been there with me nearly every night since. Of course I wanted to protect you from that situation.”

  “What else do you want from me?” she snapped reflexively. “Because a one-night stand will ruin us—”

  “That’s the last thing I want.” He closed the distance between them. “You know me better than that. You know I don’t sleep around. I’m a one-woman guy—”

  “Right. That’s you. But did you forget who you’re talking to? I don’t even know what that looks like. My parents split up, remember? I’ve never dated anyone for longer than a week.” Her chest constricted with her confession, even though he already knew this about her. Saying it face-to-face drove the ugly truth of it home. “My brothers and I are broken or something.”

  “You’re not broken, Emery. You just haven’t been with the right guy. You haven’t been with me. I’ll show you how.”

  Her heart stumbled, and it took a moment before she could find her voice again.

  “You can’t show me. I ruin everything that even begins to look like a relationship.”

  “You’re wrong.” His face was serious, his blue eyes determined and authoritative, as if he were silently challenging her to give him all she had, so he could prove her wrong.

  “I wish I was,” she admitted. “But if there’s one thing I finally figured out about myself, it’s this. I’ve told you about all the guy friends I’ve dated—”

  “They were the wrong guys. They weren’t me,” he said adamantly.

  She opened her mouth, but no words came.

  “Think about it, Em. We’ve been in a relationship for months.”

  “It’s different” fell from her lips. “Over the phone is one thing, but in person? As a couple? And let’s not forget that I’m going to be working for you. There is no doubt in my mind, Dean. I’ll screw this up big-time. I only know how to be me, and apparently I’m too—” Her mind reeled back through the last twenty-four hours, and the truth sank in. She was flirtatious and unfiltered. Tears burned her eyes and she turned away. Unwilling to be one of those weak girls who fell apart in the face of hard times, she straightened her spine, keeping those stupid tears at bay as she turned to face him again.

  “I’m not willing to risk our friendship.” But she wanted to because, God, she loved everything about him. He was confident and funny, honest and rational. And they got along so well. To experience all of that in an intimate way for one night would be more than she ever had, but if they shared even one kiss, everything would change—and not only because she wouldn’t want to stop.

  She met his gaze, and the hurt and desire she saw there nearly did her in. She felt gutted.

  Everything had already changed.

  “Why did you have to tell me how you felt?” she spat. “How can we ever go back to being just friends? Now I’m going to question everything I do around you—and everything you do for me.”

  “How could I not tell you, when the woman I’ve been falling for every day for months is finally within reach? Do you really want me to pretend I feel nothing? To watch you go out with guys who aren’t worthy of you? I tried, Emery, because I know how you feel about going out with friends or with your boss, but I can’t do it. I’m not going to be one of the guys who lies to you.”

  “But…” she said weakly. “I love our friendship, and I don’t want to lose it.”

  His arm circled her waist, and he drew her against his hard frame. “Neither do I.”

  For a brief moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the feel of him embracing her, the way he calmed the mounting panic that had threatened to consume her. She wanted to stay right there in the circle of his arms and forget that anything had the power to break them—least of all her. But she knew better.

  “I’ve been down this road before,” she finally managed, “and it never ends well. Within a few dates, all those things you like about me will become the very things that’ll drive you away.”

  “You’re wrong, doll.”

  “Oh, right,” she said as an incredulous laugh fell from her lips. “Like you’re going to be okay with me flirting with other guys?”

  His brows knitted. “You wouldn’t do that if you were with me.”

  She pushed from his arms and paced, feeling like her insides were being ripped to shreds as she prepared to lay her true self out in the most vulnerable way she ever had. She inhaled deeply and gazed directly into his hopeful eyes. “Not on purpose, I wouldn’t,” she admitted. “But don’t you see? I don’t realize I’m doing it half the time. It’s who I am. Look at how you reacted when I changed into my shirt in front of you last night. I trust you as a friend, so for you to see my bare back was no big deal to me. Nothing about that was meant to feel sexual or flirtatious, but you probably thought it was.”

  “You may not have meant it to entice me, but you can’t tell me that you felt nothing when you had your top off in front of me,” he challenged, closing the distance between them again, sparks igniting all around them. “That you feel nothing now.”

  She froze. “What I feel isn’t the point. The point is, when I took my dress off, I wasn’t thinking about reeling you in or turning you on. I wasn’t thinking past the conversation we were having. I don’t know if that’s because I’m so used to being around guys from growing up in a house full of them or what, but it is what it is. And it’s the only me I know how to be.”

  His eyes narrowed and he quickly schooled his expression, but not before she saw his frustration.

  “See?” She crossed her arms, needing the barrier between them. “You know it’s true. I could do that around other guy friends without even thinking about it, and you would want to rip their heads off for seeing me—and rip mine off for doing it. And I wouldn’t blame you.”

  Her confession drained her. If ever she thought there was a man she could love, it was Dean. But being loved for her true self? Forever? That was a pipe dream as best.

  DEAN CLENCHED HIS teeth together so hard he was sure he’d crack a molar. There was no way he was okay with being just friends with the woman who had captured his heart one phone call at a time for months on end. But he swallowed those words and reached for her.

  “Come here, doll.” Holding her close, he tried to get a handle on his emotions.

  She rested her cheek on his chest, and he guided her arms around his waist.

  “You’re one of my best friends. I can’t explore my feelings for you because I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” she said, holding him tighter. “I’m too broken to be fixed, and that’s okay as long as I don’t lose this.”

  Dean’s heart ached. She was the same woman who’d cursed a blue streak when she’d told him what happened with her ex-boss at the yoga back-care practice and had sworn she’d never work for someone else again. The woman who’d cried when she’d first seen him bottle-feed the wounded kittens and when her favorite character died on Game of Thrones, swearing she’d never watch another episode—until he said he’d watch it with her via Skype so she wouldn’t be alone. She could be strong and stubborn, but he knew about her softer side. The side that needed to be held and nurtured, loved and supported in all her endeavors. The part of her that needed to be pushed and challenged so she didn’t sell herself short.

  He’d seen, and adored, the side of her that needed protecting…from herself. A pang of hurt speared through him with the harsh thought, but it was true. Sh
e didn’t believe she knew how to have a relationship, but even without being in the same state, they’d shared their highest highs and lowest lows. And he was the best man—the only man—to prove that to her.

  But if there was one thing he was sure of about his sassy, stubborn doll, she was too scared to give in, despite that he was one hundred percent certain they belonged together. She was in Wellfleet starting a new life because he’d pushed her buttons enough to make her open her eyes and finally take charge of her happiness, and he intended to do it again and again until she realized friendship was good—but true love could, and would, be even better.

  He cradled her face in his hands and gazed into her beautiful eyes. There was no denying the emotions he saw there—or the fear simmering on the surface. He had a feeling that winning Emery’s heart was going to be like scaling a dune barefoot in the scalding heat, but he knew it would be worth every painful second.

  “The last thing I want is to lose our friendship,” he assured her. “I know you’ve been hurt by guys in the past, but I’m not them. I’ll never hurt you.” She opened her mouth to speak, and he placed his finger over her lips, wishing he could silence her with a kiss. But that was part of the problem. Emery was used to burning hot and hectic with the guys she dated, and although that was a hard pill for him to swallow, he wasn’t surprised that she had completely shut him down. Because if she didn’t, if she allowed herself to explore what was so obviously there, she’d wake up tomorrow expecting their friendship to disintegrate.

  He was determined to show her they were different—better—in every way.

  “Being friends is not enough for me,” he said honestly, and felt her body go rigid against him. He continued cradling her face and holding her gaze, unwilling to let her escape before she heard him out. “I understand why you’re afraid to give us a chance, and I respect your fears, but I’m not going to sit back while you hurt yourself over and over again, picking up guys who are looking for only one thing, when you’re worth so much more. Everything you want, Emery, everything you need, is standing right in front of you.”

  Her eyes took on that dreamy look women got when they saw babies and puppies, and it made his insides turn to mush.

  A second later the look washed away, and she said, “Dean, I’m not going to suddenly change my mind.”

  “I’m not asking you to.” He was confident that once she experienced the difference between spending time with a man who desired, respected, and cared about her, rather than one who simply wanted to get laid, he wouldn’t have to ask her to do anything.

  He lowered his hands to her hips, his fingers pressing into her softness. “All I want is to show you how you deserve to be treated. Let me take you on three”—he paused before the word dates could escape—“example outings.” Example outings? What the hell is that?

  A soft laugh fell from her lips. “Seriously? Do you think you’re pulling the wool over my eyes by calling them that?”

  “I’ll call them whatever the hell will make you give us a shot, so you can realize we belong together.”

  “What if I say no?” she asked with pleading eyes—eyes that told him she didn’t want him to accept no for an answer.

  “Then we’ll both be missing out on what I’m sure will be the best thing in our lives.”

  “How can I even stay here with all this laid out between us?”

  His gut clenched. “Because we’re still the same people we were last night when you fell asleep on my lap. Only now I’ve said what you probably already knew but were afraid to acknowledge.”

  “Well, take it back,” she said playfully. “I need that guy from last night. The one that doesn’t expect sex.”

  “Em, don’t you see? It’s you I want, not sex. Spend time with me and I promise, when we finally come together, it won’t be about sex.” He leaned in closer, and she breathed harder. “It’ll be about us.”

  Dean held his breath as silence stretched between them. When Emery took a step back, the fear in her eyes fell away, replaced with strength and conviction. He prepared himself for her to storm away.

  “How do you think Brody will take it when I cancel?”

  He blinked several times, unable to believe his ears. “I don’t give a fuck how Brody feels. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  With a cheeky smile and a sway of her hips, she headed for the house. “I’m saying you better get your run over with fast, because if I’m going on example outings with anyone, it’s not going to be Brody.”

  He had no idea what had flipped her switch, but his sassy girl was back, and he felt like he’d been given the gift of a lifetime. But he also knew Emery, knew what she liked, and a challenge was on the top of that list.

  “Hey, doll face,” he called after her.

  She looked over her shoulder, and damn, those eyes, that smile…

  “Real men have work to do. Get your pretty little ass cleaned up. You’re coming with me. I’ll take you surfing when I’m good and ready.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wow, big guy. That’s some alphadisiac stuff you have goin’ on.”

  “Damn right. Be ready in an hour.”

  Chapter Seven

  THERE WERE THREE things wrong with Dean’s example outings, the first of which was…example, his ass. The second was that now his truck smelled like Emery, from the sweetness of her shampoo to the desire that practically seeped from her pores every time she stole a glance at him. She probably thought she hid it well, but she sucked at hiding anything, which created the third issue. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his hands, or his mouth, to himself if she kept looking at him like she was deciding if she should kiss him or pretend she didn’t want to, especially while she was wearing hot little cutoffs and a lacy yellow top over a blue and white tie-dyed bikini. Her top had enough decorative holes to be used as a fishing net.

  He parked in front of Lower Cape Assisted Living, or as everyone called it, LOCAL, and cut the engine.

  “I think I just figured out why you’re still single,” Emery said with a fair amount of snark. “I gave up learning to surf so I could help you landscape? You could have at least clued me in so I could change out of my bathing suit.”

  “You gave up going out with Brody because you wanted to spend the day with me,” he reminded her. “And I like your bathing suit.” He stepped from the truck. He felt her watching him as he walked around to the passenger side and opened her door.

  “This is your example outing? How you think guys should treat me? Take me to work with them?” She lifted her brows inquisitively.

  He reached into the truck and, in one swift move, turned her by her hips, bringing them face-to-face. “Wipe that smirk off your face, doll. I’ll teach you to surf, but first I have work to do, and you need to network.”

  “Network?” She gazed up at the building, and understanding dawned in her beautiful eyes. “You think I should put flyers out here? I didn’t even bring them with me.”

  He reached behind the seat and waved a stack of the flyers he’d found, along with a stack of yoga magazines, two of his gardening magazines, and a tube of cherry lip balm, littering his bed.

  When he’d returned from his run, Emery had been meditating in the garden. She’d looked so serene he could hardly believe she was the same whirlwind of a woman who moved from one thought to the next without skipping a breath. And when he’d gone inside, he’d found evidence of her inner chaos everywhere. A pile of hair ties, two kinds of hair product, and a wide-toothed comb lay on the bathroom sink. A flowered notebook on the kitchen counter with a fuzzy pink pen and two crumpled papers. Not one, but three pairs of flip-flops in the living room, and his personal favorite, the charm necklace she’d worn the other day, lying on the living room couch. It was like she was marking her territory.

  “Where did you find those?” she asked, reaching for the flyers.

  “On my bed.” He slid his hands along her hips, bringing their mouths a whisper apart and earning
a sharp and sexy inhalation. “What were you doing on my bed, Emery?”

  “Um…” A surprisingly shy smile lifted her lips. “I haven’t put my clothes away yet, and I wanted to look at the flyers.”

  “And my gardening magazines?”

  “I wanted to see what makes you tick.”

  He felt himself grinning again. “And the magazines of skimpy yoga outfits?” Oh yeah, he’d flipped through them, imagining taking each article of clothing off Emery.

  “I wanted to see the summer styles.”

  “On my bed?” He brushed his lips over her cheek and said, “And the lip balm on my pillow?”

  She inhaled a ragged breath, and he drew back just far enough to look into her lust-filled eyes. “Were you thinking of me when you were lying on my bed, Emery? How about when you put that balm on your lips?”

  “Dean, I…” She closed her mouth and swallowed hard.

  “Did you leave it there just to torture me? To make me fantasize about how incredible your lips would taste with it on?”

  “I…” Her eyes narrowed, and all that heat turned to challenge. “I told you I don’t think about what I do. I just do it.”

  She pushed past him, landing on her feet, but the way her cheeks flushed and her breathing quickened, he knew he’d struck a nerve. And he knew her claim about not thinking about what she did wasn’t exactly true—otherwise she would have thrown caution to the wind when he’d told her how he felt. That told him more than a verbal confession ever could.

  “Are we going to go inside, or what?” She stalked toward the entrance.

  He chuckled, catching up to her. “Denial looks cute on you.”

  “Don’t make this weird,” she said without looking at him.

  “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He leaned down as they approached the front door and lowered his voice. “And get that hungry look off your face. The residents here will call you on it in a hot second.”