Gavin whistled. “I bet you get lost in here, huh?”
“Ha ha. What can I say? I don’t make much money, and this was all I could afford. But the truth is, I love it. I don’t need much space.” Her one-bedroom cottage was only three hundred and fifty square feet. It used to be part of the vacation cottage community next door. The owner had parceled off the five cottages on this side of the road and sold them as individual homes.
Gavin snagged her phone from the desk and handed it to her. “It was a joke. This place is adorable. Wait until you see my place. It’s not big or glamorous, and I do make a lot of money.” He winked and glanced into her bedroom. “King bed. Nice.”
“Stop.” She elbowed him. “You’re not getting into that bed.”
He stepped closer, and when he reached for her face, she struggled to ignore the rising temperature between them. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and beneath her nose with a thoughtful expression and said, “Pepper. You went to a lot of trouble to get out of this date.”
“Not really.”
His eyes drifted over her shoulder to the built-in bookshelves surrounding the front door. “Whoa! Be still my heart. Those are awesome.”
“Right? I love them.”
“Looks like we have more in common than just being incredible in bed.”
She choked out a surprised sound.
“You know it’s true.” He motioned toward the flowers on her desk and said, “But I clearly need to up my game. You obviously met some dude between last night and this morning, and he brought you flowers.”
The tease in his eyes made her smile. “Yeah, well, you know. Word got around that I was home and single guys are flocking.”
“Let them flock. After tonight, none of them will measure up.” He took her hand and said, “Where are your sneakers?”
“I never wear sneakers.”
He picked up the sandals by the door and plunked them down by her feet. “Slip your feet in, princess.”
“Gavin…”
“Don’t bother trying to dissuade me.” He knelt and slipped her feet into the sandals. Then he stood and looked around the room. “We’re friends, remember? Friends don’t let friends hide out.”
“I think that’s supposed to be drive drunk.”
“I wouldn’t let you do that, either. Where are your house keys?”
She pointed to a bowl on the counter. Holding tightly to her hand, he dragged her to the counter, retrieved the keys, and said, “Purse?”
“If you want to take out the ratty-looking girl, then this is a date, and you’re paying, right? I shouldn’t need my wallet.”
He chuckled and headed out the door. “You don’t need my help at all, do you? Last night was just a ploy to get me to take you out.”
He closed and locked the door without releasing her hand, and then he hauled her against him, and holy cow, he felt good.
His expression turned serious and he said, “Let’s get one thing straight, Harp. I know you’ve gone through some shit, but I’d like to think we’re friends, and one thing you’ll learn, if you haven’t already, is that I’ll never lie to you. Do you believe me?”
“I think so.” She wanted to, and she truly thought she did, but she didn’t trust her judgment enough to say for sure.
“Okay, that’s going on our list to work on, too.” He smiled and said, “Right here, right now, I want you to promise me that you’ll leave that ‘take out the ratty-looking girl’ nonsense behind. You’re gorgeous, and no amount of messy hair or smeared makeup will ever make you look anything less than beautiful. Ugliness comes from within. That’s something you should have learned from the time you were a kid. Don’t all parents teach their kids beauty starts from the inside?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts, okay? If you were an ugly person you wouldn’t have friends who care so deeply about you. And by ugly I mean inside, because you could be caught in a fire tomorrow and your looks could change, but that still wouldn’t make you ugly.” He paused for a long time, his words sinking in. Then he said, with no less vehemence, “I value honesty, integrity, and kindness, so I sure as hell wouldn’t have been with you in Virginia, much less thought about you after that first night, if you didn’t embody all those things.”
“Gavin, that was…” She didn’t have the words to explain how that made her feel, but it was big, and it was real.
“Promise?”
She’d almost forgotten what that promise was supposed to be. Promise me that you’ll leave that ‘take out the ratty-looking girl’ nonsense behind. She nodded. “I’ll try.”
He cupped her face with his warm, strong hand and brushed his thumb over her cheek again. “That’s all I can ask. Let’s do this, friend. Let’s go kick some troubled ass.”
His touch felt like a promise to keep her safe during this trouble intervention.
As they walked to his car, doubt crept in. She tried to push it aside. Stop being so hard on yourself and just enjoy the evening. Like when we were in Romance. Her body warmed, and she reminded herself to also be cautious. There will be no sunflower kissing tonight.
He opened the door of his car for her, smiling like she’d given him the best gift ever by agreeing to go out with him. “Your chariot awaits.”
Maybe just one kiss…
AS THEY DROVE into the town of Brewster, butterflies took flight in Harper’s stomach. She fidgeted with her sweatshirt and asked, “Where are we going?”
“My place.” He glanced at her and said, “For a lesson in confidence building.”
Her nerves flamed at what that might mean. “I am confident, and for your information, we are not ending up in your bed, either.”
“For a girl who doesn’t generally do hookups, you’re pretty focused on sex.”
“I’m only like that with you, because you…” Make me want to do things I shouldn’t. She could not say that. “Give off a sexual vibe, and it gets my brain going in that direction.”
He laughed as he turned off the main road. “Do I?”
“Don’t act surprised. You know what you’re doing.” She remembered what Chloe had said about him not showing any interest in her. Those butterflies swarmed again as she added, “At least with me.”
He turned down a wooded lane. A minute later a sly smile worked its way across his tempting lips as he turned down another tree-lined street. “Seems to me you’re pretty good at picking up cues from men.”
“It’s easy to pick up on sexy cues. It’s the hidden ones, the ones guys don’t want me to know, that cause me trouble. Like with the guy who was engaged. I should have realized there was a reason he took off by ten o’clock every night and why he’d cancel our dates with excuses of work a little too often. But I wasn’t raised to distrust people. I wasn’t looking for hints of a hidden life. But that doesn’t mean I’m not confident. I just know where my weaknesses lie.”
He pulled down a long driveway. Cape Cod towns blurred together to outsiders, but Harper had grown up on the Cape, and she knew the differences. Much of the property in Wellfleet and Truro was within the boundaries of the Cape Cod National Seashore and off-limits to development, which meant there were fewer homes, less commercialization, and higher real estate prices than in Eastham and Brewster. She found it interesting that Gavin had chosen to live in a less expensive area after his comment about making a lot of money.
He parked in front of a cute, though unremarkable, cedar-sided rambler with a wide front porch that ran between a bump out on either side. Mature trees shaded a good part of the property, and long grasses sprouted up, unkempt and sparse as a balding man’s bedhead. There was no defined parking area, just a smattering of grass and sandy dirt, which was common on the Cape. But Gavin beautified spaces for a living. Harper was surprised his lawn wasn’t manicured with overflowing gardens, although the natural beauty of the land brought an unexpected sense of serenity.
Gavin opened her door and took her hand as she stepped from the car, leading h
er down a stone path toward the side of the house. “Listen, Harp, I didn’t mean you weren’t a confident person. Your confidence is one of the things that I was—I am—very attracted to. You’re the wordsmith. I’m obviously better with interior design than words. What I meant was that you let a few bad experiences undermine your confidence about your abilities to read people, and tonight I hope to help you let that go.”
“That’s true, I guess. But good luck. I’ve tried to let it go,” she said as one of the large kettle ponds the Cape was known for came into view. Moonlight danced along the surface. At the end of the stone path, which forked off and ran along the back of the house, was a wooden dock with a ladder at the end and a rowboat tied to a piling.
“Wow, Gavin. This is gorgeous.”
“Thanks. I wanted a place that reminded me of home. I grew up fishing with my dad and my brother, Beckett, and having parties at the creek with our friends. Kind of like the bonfires we have here, only with about five times as many people. I hadn’t realized how much I missed being around the water until I left Boston.”
“Like when I was in California. I don’t think there’s any place quite like home. Where in Virginia are you from?”
“Oak Falls. I know it’s stupid, but I’m glad you didn’t forget where I was from.”
“I remember everything about that night,” she said softly.
“Me too,” he said, holding her gaze.
The air between them heated despite the cool breeze. Harper struggled against the desire to move closer, to be closer. Close enough to kiss when the feeling hit.
In the next breath, Gavin cleared his throat and looked out over the water, as if he was struggling with the same raw emotions.
“You probably know Des and Emery grew up there, too.” Emery Andrews was Desiree’s best friend. A year after Desiree moved to the Cape, Emery followed and began teaching yoga at the inn. She’d fallen in love with Dean Masters, and they’d eloped last winter. “Violet lived there for a few years when she was little, though I didn’t know her then. I had heard that Des and Emery moved to the Cape, but I didn’t know where. It was a nice surprise to see everyone again.”
“Were you guys good friends?”
“Oak Falls is really small. You pretty much hang out with everyone who’s close to your age.”
“It’s crazy that you guys grew up together and all ended up here.”
“I think it’s fate. You know, six degrees of separation and all that.”
“Maybe,” she said absently. “I’ve been gone for so long, I feel out of touch. I missed engagements, weddings, and from what Chloe and Serena told me last night, Violet introduced them to a whole new group of friends who hang out at a coffee shop in Harwich.”
“Common Grounds. Justin and I hang out there, too. I’ll take you there sometime.” He took her hand and headed down the dock.
“I like to write in coffee shops and cafés, and sometimes at the Wellfleet Pier.”
“Really? I think you’ll like the atmosphere at Common Grounds. It’s very eclectic, and the people who hang out there are interesting, from all walks of life. It might give you inspiration for your writing, which by the way, I want to hear all about.”
She looked out over the water, listening to the sounds of the rowboat tapping the dock and the leaves rustling in the breeze, and said, “I’m afraid there’s not much to tell these days.”
“We’ll see about that.” He motioned toward the rowboat. “Ready for Regaining Confidence 101? I hope you like to fish.”
“I’ve always been more of a sit-in-the-grass-and-make-flower-crowns type of girl.” She glanced in the boat and saw life jackets, blankets, a tackle box, and fishing rods. He either kept his boat ready, or he’d gone to some trouble for her. That thought made her feel good all over.
“Ah, that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“How a few bad experiences can make you feel capsized.” He stepped into the boat and reached for her hand. “Come on.”
“I figured you as more of a wine-and-dine type of guy.”
“I have to wine and dine clients. Why would I want to do that with you? I think we just uncovered part of the problem.”
“What part?”
“Your expectations are that guys treat you as they’d treat anyone else. When a guy really likes a woman, he should make the effort to show her she’s unlike anyone else and do new things.” He wiggled his fingers and said, “Come on, beautiful. Don’t tell me you’re afraid to fish.”
No, but I might be afraid of how wise you are in the ways of men and women.
“I’m not afraid, just surprised. You’re different than I thought you’d be.” She shimmied out of her sweatpants.
He whistled. “Who knew fishing would make you strip?”
“I don’t want to get my pants wet.” She folded her sweatpants and said, “Should I just leave them here?”
“Yes, cutoffs too, if you’d like.”
She rolled her eyes.
He chuckled. “How about the sweatshirt?”
“No. It’s too cold.” She took his hand, and the boat rocked as she stepped in.
“I’ve got you.” He put his arms around her, gathering her against him and adjusting his feet to balance the boat.
Heat spread through her like wildfire. His body was hard, his arms safe and strong, bringing rise to memories of what it had been like to be naked in them. Before their night in Romance, she hadn’t realized one night could create so many enticingly vivid memories. Then again, she’d never experienced a night like the one they’d shared. Gavin had broken down her defenses with nothing more than conversation, laughter, and dancing at the festival. From the very moment they’d met there was an instant connection, sexually and emotionally. When they’d walked into town, they’d meandered through shops hand in hand like they’d been together forever. They made wishes in the fountain and had eaten at a cute pizzeria on the main drag. By the time they’d finally kissed, she’d been the one to make the move and take it.
She’d forgotten that until just now. He was looking at her the same way he had that night, with wonder, attraction, and something much deeper that she forced herself not to even try to define. She’d thought she’d imagined that look, but it was as real as the man himself.
GAVIN TRIED TO keep his emotions in check, but the desire in Harper’s eyes made him want to kiss her and protect her at once, just like it had when they’d first met. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, his emotions as blatant in his voice as they were in his heart. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“Yes,” she whispered. Surprise flashed in her eyes, and she went rigid in his arms. In a cooler tone she said, “I know just how good you are at making me warm, but I’m not sure how that will help with my ability to read guys.”
“Right. I lost my head for a minute there.”
He helped her sit on the bench, and as he untied the boat and pushed away from the dock, he said, “Fresh air helps clear your head, and everyone knows you need a clear head to read guys, because we can be a tricky species.” He sat across from her and began rowing. “I have a feeling you’ve been so focused on your bad experiences, it’s been a while since you’ve taken the time to clear the chaos from your mind.”
“You can say that again. I have a tendency to pick things apart until they’re nothing but bones.”
He could see that, and he had a cure for it. He reached for her hand. “Come here.” He guided her down beside him and said, “Have you ever rowed a boat?”
She shook her head.
“Time to learn.” He moved off the bench and crouched behind her. Then he shifted her to the middle of the bench. He wrapped her fingers around the oars, covering them with his own, and said, “You want to hold the ends, with your thumb on the tip.” Memories of her delicate hands wrapped around his cock flooded him, though it had been her tongue on the tip that had teased and taunted him until he’d been ready to explode. He cleared his throat to
try to clear the lust from his brain, but with his chest pressed to her back, he felt her heart beating just as hard and fast as his. Knowing she was just as affected as he was made him want to continue down a dark, sensual path, but that wouldn’t help her with her troubles, and in the long run, that was more important than satisfying the desire he’d harbored for months.
He forced himself to focus on helping her clear her head, which was torture, because getting her hot and bothered was so damn enticing. “Make sure the blades of the oars dip just beneath the surface of the water. Be careful not to bury them too deep.”
Fuck. He’d like to be buried deep…
He moved her hands in a rowing motion. “This might feel awkward, and that’s okay.”
There had been no awkwardness when they’d tumbled into bed together the first time, or when they’d made love the second, third, or fourth times either.
“Mm-hm. Isn’t it more romantic if you row?” She crushed against his chest with every backward row.
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m liking my position right now.”
She laughed softly, glancing at him over her shoulder. Moonlight reflected in her eyes, and for a beat they simply looked at each other. So many women had to try too hard with revealing clothing, too much makeup, and desperation oozing from their pores. She was naturally beautiful in a girl-next-door-only-better way that spoke to parts of him that he hadn’t thought about in a very long time.
One oar dipped too low, and she lost her grip. “Shoot!”
The oar shot up, and he realized his hands had slipped from the oars to around her waist. He grabbed the oar and said, “It’s okay. We’ve got it.” He reached around her, placing the oar in her hand and wrapping his hands around hers again. “Take it slow and steady.”
“Do you do this with all your dates?” she asked, rowing again.
Bayside Romance (Bayside Summers) Page 5
