“Hot, yes, but you looked like you knew it. Luckily, you’ve since proven you are a lot more than just a handsome face.”
She didn’t look at him the way his family and some of his friends did, like he was the bad guy, and that helped ease his tension even more.
“After all you’ve been through with your father,” she said softly, “I understand what you’re saying about not trusting him. But if he started out as a good father, someone you admired and loved being with, then isn’t there a chance he’s finally come full circle? That who he is now is the man he’ll always be? Or have you already condemned him to never being worthy of your trust again?”
She was so good a person, she reeked of hope, and that slayed him, because he didn’t want to crush it. How was it possible that he felt lucky and guilty at once? “I don’t know. All I know right now is that before you came along, I wouldn’t have thought twice about any of this. I’d get on that plane tomorrow, and seven minutes later I’d be entrenched in work, my family and the devastation of the storm forgotten. I’m a fucking prick, Tegan, and I don’t deserve your friendship.”
JETT WAS SO tortured, there was no escaping his pain or his confusion. But beneath all that angst, Tegan saw the hurt he carried. She saw the lost and lonely boy whose world had been shattered, the angry teen who had forced himself into survival mode and plowed into manhood with a vengeance, and the serious, passionate man gazing into her eyes who believed he’d risen above it all. She also saw the hard truth bullying its way in. Jett was standing on the cusp of the volcano that he’d always jumped over with blinders on, and for the first time since that all-powerful teen had taken his future by the horns and stormed out of his father’s life, those blinders had been torn off, and he was seeing the volcano for all that it was.
She wanted to take away his pain and the loneliness he so vehemently denied but wore with the weight of an anchor. She was pretty sure Jett was going to break her heart, but she already cared too deeply to walk away. She didn’t want to save herself, and she knew she couldn’t save him. He’d never allow that. He was too in control, too walled off, too intent on being a one-man army. God knew he’d needed that steel will to get past the pain he’d described and to climb the mountains he clearly had.
No. Nobody saved Jett Masters, and she was okay with that. She didn’t want to save him. What she wanted, what she ached for, was to be the very thing he’d spent a lifetime running from. To be someone he could trust, someone who he knew wouldn’t take that trust for granted, even by accident. Someone who saw the man he wanted to be, even if he didn’t—and who believed if he truly wanted anything in life, he would find a way to get it.
She wanted to be his friend. It would be easier if that was all she wanted. But since she couldn’t change her feelings, and she knew better than to try to change his, she did what her uncle had taught her to do. She threw caution to the wind and followed her heart.
She touched his cheek and said, “I’m here.”
He leaned his face against her palm, a silent war lingering in his eyes despite his soft tone as he said, “I hate that I dragged you into this madness.”
“I know you do,” she said softly. “But whether you think you deserve my friendship or not, I’m here, and I want to be here with you as much as I want to be here for you.”
“Tegs,” he said, full of emotion. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.” She rose up and pressed her lips to his, hoping to silence his demons.
He kissed her, but his body remained rigid. She knew he was holding back, trying to rebuild those walls that had cracked, trying to protect himself from what she knew he felt. Probably also trying to protect her from getting too close. His muscles were so tight, he was shaking. But there was no hiding the desire gusting off him, seeping beneath her skin and filling her up until she was trembling, too. They were both scared of the intensity of their connection, and maybe he was as worried as she was about how badly a fall from that type of passion could hurt. But it was inescapable, drawing them together like metal to magnet.
They needed this, and he deserved it.
She tore her mouth away and said, “You can trust me.”
“I know,” he panted out.
“Then let go and show me.”
His mouth came ravenously down over hers. His heart thundered wildly as his arms snaked beneath her, crushing her to him. He gripped the back of her head, taking the kiss deeper, rougher, like he was chasing his demons away with every stroke of his tongue. She gave herself over to him, wanting that freedom for him, wanting him to know how much she trusted him. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as his hands moved over her skin, down her torso and hips. He clutched her ass, his scruff abrading her cheeks. He made a primal sound and tore his mouth away.
“Fuck,” he said angrily.
“What’s wrong?”
He looked down at her, his jaw clenching repeatedly, and then, like a sail that lost its wind, he said, “Everything,” in a long, soft breath.
She didn’t know what to say as his lips touched hers, kissing her so tenderly she thought it might be goodbye. She closed her eyes, wanting to savor every last second, to memorize the feel of his arms around her, the taste of his mouth, the beat of his heart against hers. She wanted to stop time, to live in this moment for as long as humanly possible. She pressed her hands to his back, feeling his muscles flex against them. She held her breath, expecting him to pull away. But he didn’t retreat. He threaded his fingers into her hair, holding her face between his hands, and kissed her longer, slower.
This wasn’t goodbye.
She didn’t know what it was, but the longer they kissed, the more relaxed he became. He rocked his hips, brushing the crown of his hard length along her wetness. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t thrusting into her. Everything felt new, the weight of him on her, the tenderness of his touches, the mingling of their breath. She was lost in a sea of sensations and wonder. He drew back and brushed his scruff over her cheek, kissing her there. His lips trailed lightly over her cheek, her chin, her jaw. His hands skimmed down her body, slowing to caress her waist, hips, and thighs. His hands lingered there, squeezing, kneading, as if it were the first time he’d really felt her. Lust and something much bigger grew inside her, seeping into every crack and crevice, until there was no more room to even think. She could only feel, want, and crave. Her fingers trailed along his back and into his hair, earning another primal sound, less urgent, more appreciative and sensual than the last. His visceral sounds did her in, making her tingle and burn. His mouth moved to her neck, sucking and licking, until she went boneless in his arms, her entire body hot and yielding. He rolled them onto their sides, keeping her close. His mouth found hers again, parting her lips with his tongue, claiming and possessing her like a tide claiming the shore. He slid one hand behind her knee, lifting her leg to his outer thigh. His cock pressed against her again. His tongue swept deeper, and he clutched her ass, holding her tight against him. She could barely breathe, for the want consuming her.
“Tegs,” he whispered, his lips never fully leaving hers.
Their gazes held as he entered her ever so slowly, burying himself deep inside her. The hope she was trying to keep at bay reflected in his eyes, and her heart swelled with a dizzying surge of emotions. His brows slanted, confusion swimming in his eyes. He pressed firmly on her bottom, thrusting impossibly deeper. The bedroom blurred, and the air rushed from her lungs. Never in her life had she felt so wanted, so connected. As they found their rhythm, passion flowed like a river, swiftly building in intensity, burgeoning and expanding. They didn’t kiss, didn’t speak, could only cling to each other, consumed by their ecstasy as they soared up to the stars. They were fire and rain, desert and meadows, flying, crashing, sinking, floating. They were powerless and powerful at once, existing on a new plane.
As their shaking, sated bodies sank limp and tangled to the mattress, “Jesus,” slipped from his lips like a secret.
&nb
sp; She didn’t dare speak, for fear of pulling them out of this incredible oneness.
“I’ve never…” he whispered, and then he kissed her, as if he didn’t want to finish his thought.
He didn’t need to, because she had never, either. Never felt like that, never been so lost and so found at the same time. Never known that she’d never be the same person again.
Chapter Fifteen
BY WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, as Tegan drove to Harper’s house, the sky was clear, the air was crisp, and the power had been restored across the Cape. While it would be months before all of the storm damage was rectified for some businesses and homeowners, cleanup crews had made great headway clearing away downed trees and other debris. Standing water dissipated, shutters and boards came down from storefronts and houses, and for many, the storm was nothing more than a blip in their busy lives. Tegan felt like she’d lived a year during those rainy days with Jett, which had made saying goodbye that much harder.
She’d been trying to keep busy to avoid thinking about, and missing, him. She’d spent yesterday cleaning up debris in her yard and had paid an impromptu visit to Greta and Larry, helping them clean up, too. She’d even stayed for a cup of tea and more stories about Harvey and Adele. She’d then thrown herself into business mode, determined to get through her to-do list to prepare for Harper’s productions. But hours later, she still felt as though Jett had etched himself into her skin. She’d replayed their goodbye a hundred times, trying to figure out the dichotomy that was Jett Masters. The deeply emotional man who had shared pieces of himself she’d never expected Monday night had been gone by Tuesday morning. He had been wide-awake at five o’clock, showered and on the phone with Tia by six, and from that moment on he’d been practically all business, sending emails and making arrangements for his upcoming meetings. Tegan had gotten a brief glimpse into his work life: meetings from sunup to sundown on the West Coast for the next week and a half, and then he was off to Louisiana to assess some type of business venture before coming back the morning of the wedding. It seemed he’d carried the patterns he’d developed as a teenager to keep himself too busy to come home in adulthood.
Tegan was trying to accept the truth. No matter how deep their connection had felt, or how long and sensual the kiss goodbye he’d given her, it was obvious that Jett didn’t have space for anything more in his life than work and an occasional rendezvous. His text last night, wishing her luck discussing a partnership agreement with Harper, had validated that thought. She’d hoped he’d say something more intimate, especially since she knew he was lonely even if he didn’t want to admit it. But when no further texts rolled in, she’d kept her I miss you to herself and had played it cool, replying with wishes of good luck with his business deals. She resigned herself to the fact that she’d see him again in less than two weeks at Gavin and Harper’s wedding and they’d have one night together. She had no idea how long it would be until she saw him again after that.
As she climbed the steps to Harper’s front porch and knocked on the door, she was as ready to move forward as she could be.
The door swung open and Harper stood before her, looking like a seventies throwback in a colorful boho-chic dress. Her long blond hair lay loose over her shoulders with one fine braid down the middle of the left side.
“Wow, fancy car,” Harper exclaimed.
“Ugh. I’m glad I have it, but I hate it. It was my uncle’s, and it’s like driving a bus compared to Berta. But Berta quit on me during the storm, and the mechanics haven’t had a chance to look at her yet.”
“Bummer. I know how much you love that car.” Harper’s bangles jangled as she waved Tegan in. She hung up Tegan’s coat and said, “That storm was wicked. I feel bad for Des and Vi, but it sounds like Rick has everything under control and he’s riding the insurance company to get things moving along. Did you have any damage?”
“I was lucky. I only lost a few trees, and there wasn’t any damage to the theater. I texted Daphne yesterday to see how she and Hadley were getting along in the cottage. She said she feels guilty because she loves the cottage so much.”
“I love that girl. She’s forced out of her apartment with a baby and she feels guilty.” Harper sat down and said, “She’s the sweetest person. The guys are working on the repairs to her apartment and the office this week, and some of the girls are getting together to help paint Monday evening. Want to help?”
“Absolutely.” Tegan sat beside Harper and pulled a notebook out of her messenger bag.
“Great. I was so excited when you called. I didn’t think you’d be ready to nail down timelines until after my honeymoon, especially since Emery said you’ve been with Jett ever since the party.”
“How did Emery know I was with Jett? I haven’t spoken to anyone about him since he left, not even Chloe when she texted about the next book club meeting.”
“Apparently Jett’s mom called Dean to get the scoop on you two, and he asked Emery, who mentioned it to Serena and the girls over breakfast yesterday morning.” Harper clapped her hands together and said, “So…? What is the scoop? We all thought Jett left the morning after my bachelorette party.”
“There’s no scoop.” Tegan was afraid to say too much because it would just make her miss Jett even more and she’d done a great job of sidetracking herself, so she kept it brief and simple. “We had a good time the night of your party, and when he found out his flight was canceled, he came over…and stayed. The next day we went to check on his parents, and we ended up going into town with them to help clean up from the storm, and then we stayed for dinner. Jett helped me with the business plan. He’s so good at it.” And many other things. “But he’s gone now, and here I am, ready to get the ball rolling.”
“I can see that. But how did you and Jett leave things? Are you going to see him again?”
“Mm-hm, at your wedding.” A smile tugged at her lips, and she said, “After your wedding.”
“So there is a scoop! You guys are seeing each other?”
“Sort of, but not really. We’re FWBs.”
Harper’s face scrunched in confusion.
“Sorry. Friends with benefits,” Tegan explained.
“Tegan,” she exclaimed. “That’s pretty much seeing each other, right?”
“Not exactly. He’s not my boyfriend or anything. I wouldn’t call him to tell him about my day. We’ll just get together when he’s in town. I’m busy, he’s busy, and neither of us has time for complications right now.”
“Right now or ever?” Harper asked.
“I…um…I’d rather not dissect it, you know?”
“Boy, do I know that feeling. Did I ever tell you that Gavin and I first met at a music festival in Romance, Virginia? He was supposed to be my one and only fling with a stranger. I swear I fell in love with him that night. I didn’t think that was even possible.”
“Whoa, we’re not talking love here, Harper.”
“I know you’re not.” Harper rubbed her arms and said, “I have goose bumps just thinking about that night with Gavin. I spent a year telling myself I was crazy and believing I’d never see him again. I never even knew his last name. And then fate stepped in. Now we’re getting married at the Silver House on Silver Island, where we spent a romantic weekend last summer. You never know what might happen between you and Jett.”
“Actually, I do,” she said regretfully. “He’s been honest about not wanting any commitments, and I’m so busy…” Worried their conversation was about to go from simple to complicated, she tried to change the subject. “Speaking of which, let’s get started. I have so many things to go over, like the new name of the theater. The Children’s Amphitheater no longer makes sense since we’ll be hosting adult shows. I decided to change it to the Harvey and Adele Fine Amphitheater, or HAFA.”
“That’s a great idea, and HAFA is really catchy, but that was the worst segue I’ve ever heard.”
“I know. Just go with it,” Tegan said with a soft laugh. “I can’t think too mu
ch about Jett or I’ll miss him. So…getting back to the business. Evan said the website will be ready for beta testing by next Friday, with purchasing portals for both the children and adult productions. He referred me to Brandon Owens, a graphic designer in Harborside, Massachusetts, to design the HAFA logo. I spent all morning FaceTiming with Brandon, going over ideas and color schemes. He’s amazing, and he hopes to have several concepts ready by Monday. Hopefully I’ll have the final logo within a day or two after that, and I’d love your input on it.”
“Of course. I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
“Great. I’ll email you once I have some options.” Tegan readied herself for the more difficult conversation as her phone vibrated, and Jett’s name flashed on the screen. “Sorry, let me just…” Her pulse quickened as she read the text. The woman I’m meeting with must have gone to the Tegan School of Organization. She just pulled out a notebook covered in sticky notes. Tegan bit her lower lip, trying to hide the joy rising inside her.
“Nothing to spill, huh?” Harper teased.
“He’s just making fun of my organizational skills.” Tegan typed, Then she’s probably awesome. You should def do business with her! She put her phone on the coffee table, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest, and said, “Okay, where were we?”
“By the goofy grin on your face, I’d say it doesn’t matter, because now you’re daydreaming about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.”
“Nope. I’m not going there.” She tried not to think too hard about the fact that Jett was thinking about her and said, “Let’s see. We’ve covered the amphitheater, but we need to figure out our partnership.”
“We’ve brainstormed all winter. I thought we figured it out already.”
“I know, and we’re pretty much on the same page. The adult productions are going to be handled in the same manner as the children’s programs. You’ll take care of the productions and pay for the use of the theater, and I’ll run the theater and continue doing local advertising to get the name out there, and network with the right community groups, that sort of thing.”
Bayside Fantasies (Bayside Summers Book 6) Page 20
