Bayside Romance (Bayside Summers)

by Melissa Foster

  “What do your parents do?”

  “My father runs Wheeler Industries, a farm-equipment manufacturer. My mom didn’t work when we were growing up, but now she does, part-time at a gift shop. She doesn’t need the money, but I think she gets lonely when my father is at work. I try to call her pretty often.”

  “Aw, that’s sweet. I bet she appreciates it.”

  “I think she does. What about your parents?”

  “They live in Hyannis. They’re very old-school. My dad’s a businessman, and my mom seems happy being a homemaker, doing crossword puzzles, making meals for my father. He’s so appreciative, he never takes her for granted. I know they’re happy.”

  “You said you weren’t worried about how your family would react to your show being canceled. What’s holding you back from telling them?”

  “My parents believe in nine-to-five jobs and traditional roles in relationships. According to them, we all should have been married with two kids by the time we were twenty-five. Jana and I should have husbands who are suit-wearing businessmen, and Brock and Colton should have wives who volunteer and go to PTA meetings.” She laughed softly. “We all veered so far from their hopes, it’s like we rebelled, but really, we just followed our hearts. I don’t think they’re disappointed in us, but I do think they worry, you know? They never really understood Brock’s and Jana’s desire to box, Colton’s sexuality, or my desire to have my own career. They accept us and support our decisions, but there’s a generational gap, and we all feel it.”

  “Which leaves each of you trying to prove your worth to them?”

  “I don’t know about my brothers or sister, but maybe in some ways, for me. Although they’ve never made any of us feel like we’re less than anything, so it’s probably all in my head. They’re proud of me, and I hope they always will be.”

  He wanted to sit down with her parents and tell them how amazing the daughter they’d raised was. She hadn’t just hit a bump in the road. Her road had opened up beneath her. It could have swallowed her whole, but here she was, striving not to let it. If that wasn’t the sign of a remarkable woman, he didn’t know what was.

  “Despite all that, some of their values definitely wore off on me. I’ve always been a white-picket-fence kind of girl. I just want my career, too.” She looked at the picture again and said, “You look like both of your parents. I just look like my mom.”

  He knew she was trying to change the subject, so he didn’t push for more information about her family. “Then your mother must be beautiful.” He took her wet clothes from her hands. “Why don’t I toss these in the washer while we eat?”

  “You don’t have to do that.” She followed him into his laundry room.

  “It’s okay. I’m washing mine anyway. And don’t worry,” he said teasingly, “I’ll keep my hands off your lingerie.” She blushed, and he couldn’t resist adding, “Skin is better than silk any day.”

  “Are you always like this?”

  “Nice?” he said as he started the washer.

  “Flirty and cocky.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and gazed into her smiling eyes. “Maybe.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  Loving the heat in her eyes, he said, “I’m a nice guy who can be flirty and cocky, and when you’re ready, I promise you’ll get all the best parts of me.”

  “Gavin.”

  His name sounded soft and alluring rolling off her tongue. The urge to kiss her was so strong, he had to joke his way out of it before he took her places she wasn’t ready to go.

  “Stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat. Your dinner is on the grill.” He kissed the tip of her nose and took her hand, leading her into the living room.

  “I can see you’re not going to make this easy.”

  “Make what easy?” He knew exactly what. He shouldn’t be sending flirtatious messages when she wasn’t ready, but he loved seeing desire and restraint warring in her eyes.

  “Nothing. I like your house,” she said in an obvious, and adorable, attempt to change the subject again. “It’s very rustic, not at all what I pictured.”

  Open ceilings with exposed rafters, paneled walls, and marred hardwood floors gave his house more of a cabin feel. Built-in bookshelves filled to the hilt took up three-quarters of one wall. Gavin had disappeared into books as much as he’d lost himself in work over the years. A wide stone fireplace anchored the far side of the room between the entrances to each of the two guest bedrooms. Large windows spanned the back wall, offering stunning views of the water.

  “You mean you didn’t expect an interior designer to live in a house with knotty-pine paneling, cheap furniture, and an archaic kitchen?” Gavin was a private guy, and he rarely had people over to his house. Serena and Drake had come over a time or two, and Justin stopped by sometimes. Other than hanging up pictures of his friends and family, he hadn’t put any effort into decorating, much to his friends’ dismay. Justin was always on his case to do something with his yard.

  “Something like that,” she said with a smile.

  “I think a home should be someplace you can kick back and enjoy yourself, not worry about whether you’ll ruin the furniture.”

  “I have no problem with any of that,” she said. “It’s just curious that you haven’t given your house your own touch, that’s all.” She made a beeline for his grandfather’s vintage wooden stereo cabinet. “Is this what I think it is? Does it have a record player?”

  “Yes. It was my grandfather’s. Are you into vinyl?”

  “Not really, but we had one of these when I was growing up.” She ran her hand over the top. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “I restored it. I love listening to vinyl.”

  She opened the empty cabinet and looked around the room. “Where are your records?”

  He pointed to the closed double doors on the far side of the room. “In the sunroom.”

  “You have a sunroom?”

  “Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t notice it from the dock. It has great views of the water.” He placed his hand on Harper’s lower back, wanting the connection as he guided her to the sunroom. He pushed open the doors, and moonlight spilled in through the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows of pitch pine trees over the boxes on one side of the room.

  “Why is this gorgeous room empty?” She walked in and looked out the windows.

  “I was going to make it into my office, but I haven’t gotten around to it. I don’t work from home as often as I used to, so I don’t really need it. My records are in those boxes.” He noticed smoke coming off the grill and said, “We should check on dinner. I hope you’re hungry. The fish we caught should taste amazing.”

  “I’m always hungry,” she said as they went out to the patio.

  He waggled his brows.

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

  “You didn’t feel me struggling when you attacked me in the water, did you? I’m obviously very possible.”

  She blushed, and it made her look even sexier.

  He transferred the fish and vegetables to their plates and said, “I’m glad you’re not one of those women who pretends not to eat, then goes home and scarfs down a gallon of ice cream.”

  “I never said I don’t scarf down ice cream.”

  THEY ATE DINNER on the patio. The fish was delicious, and conversation came easily, as if they’d known each other for years rather than days. They laughed a lot, talking about their friends and reliving Harper’s tumble into the water. Harper told him about her life in LA, which was more work than play, as he’d expected, and he caught her up on all the happenings around Bayside over the winter.

  After dinner, he told her how much he enjoyed working with Serena.

  “We clicked from the start, and our career aspirations and visions were in line, as were our ethics. We’re a great team.”

  “Well, everyone here sure loves you.”

  “As I do them,” he said as they carried
their dishes inside. “I had friends when I lived in Boston, but I was so focused on work, I never connected with them the way I did with friends back home. Coming here and meeting all of Serena’s friends was a refreshing change, and just what I needed.”

  “I’m glad you did, or we probably never would have seen each other again.”

  He transferred their clothes into the dryer, grabbed a blanket for Harper, and they went back outside and sat on lounge chairs by the fire.

  “I think that’s another thing that dragged me down in LA,” Harper said. “I made friends, but I felt like I could be anyone.”

  “Replaceable,” he suggested, knowing exactly how she felt. “I know how it feels to be lonely in a city of millions.”

  “Exactly. It’s not that I think I’m special, or need special treatment, but I know with my friends here, we mean something to each other. In any case, I’m glad to be home.”

  “I think you’re pretty special, Harp.”

  She pulled the blanket around her shoulders, her brows knitted. “I’ve never been with a guy where things were this easy. What are you hiding? There has to be something, some skeleton in the closet? A fetish that’ll repulse me?”

  He laughed. “No weird fetishes to speak of, although I’m open to anything you want to try.”

  She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “We’ve already tried a lot.”

  They sure had. They’d explored each other’s bodies all night long at the bed-and-breakfast, playing and pushing each other’s boundaries. They’d even made good use of the tie he’d worn on the flight from Boston. Hell, they’d made good use of the dresser, the table, and the bathtub, too.

  A breeze swept over the patio, and she shivered.

  “Are you too cold? Do you want to go inside?”

  “I’m a little chilly, but I don’t want to go in. I like being out here with you.”

  He shifted on the lounge chair and reached for her hand. “Come over here. I’ll keep you warm.” She hesitated, and he said, “Fully dressed.”

  She moved beside him, and he covered her with the blanket. He put his arm around her, and she fit perfectly, like his matching puzzle piece.

  “You’re warm,” she said, and turned toward him, resting her head on his chest. She stretched her arm over his stomach, snuggling closer. “This doesn’t mean I want to get naked. Is that unfair? I don’t want you to think I’m a tease.”

  “Believe it or not, Harp, I’m not looking to get laid. I like you too much to rush into anything before we’re ready. Friendship is important, and I’m enjoying getting to know you better. How we get along when we’re fully dressed is just as important as how we connect when we’re naked.”

  “I’ve never met anyone like you. I can’t decide if you’re really this nice, or if it’s all part of some big plan.”

  He kissed her forehead and said, “You can worry all you want, but with me, what you see is what you get. Tell me about this job you’ve got, writing about current events. When do you start?”

  “This week. My first assignment is covering a pre-season concert the Chatham Band is putting on Wednesday night.”

  “Great. I’ll bring dinner.”

  She tipped her face up. “You want to go with me? Don’t you have anything better to do on a Wednesday night?”

  “This chick I’m really into just got back into town, and I hear she’ll be there.”

  She rested her cheek on his chest again and hugged him. “Thank you. It’s not really Chloe’s scene, and most of my other friends are taken. I was dreading going alone. You know it’ll be packed, right? With lots of families and loud kids.”

  “I love kids,” he said. “Why? Are you a kid hater?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Some people think kids should be seen and not heard. I’ve never understood that. In Oak Falls we have Friday-night jam sessions every few weeks at my friends’ barn. People of any age can get up onstage and play an instrument. Sometimes there are twenty people up there, and it sounds terrible. But it’s fun. Kids are running around, spilling sodas and eating cookies, and people dance and sing. Everyone brings food. My mom usually makes her famous tuna-noodle casserole, which sounds really gross, but man, it’s the best. She makes it with buttery biscuits that melt in your mouth. And Nana’s everything cookies. Man, I miss those.”

  “Nana? Is that your grandmother?”

  “No, my friend’s grandmother. Everyone calls her Nana. Some of my best childhood memories are of those jam sessions. And as a teenager.” He whistled. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Why? Did you sneak into the hayloft with your girlfriends?”

  “Nah. Usually down to the creek. What about you? Where’d you sneak off to?” He wanted to know everything about her.

  “I never really snuck off anywhere with boys. That was more Jana’s and Colton’s style. I hung around at home or at the beach with my girlfriends.”

  “Aw, come on. You’ve got to give me something. How about your first-kiss story?”

  “With tongue or without?”

  He squeezed her tight. “You naughty thing. Let’s go innocent. The first kiss without tongue, because quite honestly, I’d like to pretend only my tongue has ever had the pleasure of dancing with yours.”

  She blinked up at him and said, “There haven’t been many, I can tell you that.”

  “Harper Garner, you have no idea what knowing that does to me, so even if you’re lying, please keep lying to me.”

  “It’s the truth, but let me tell you about Charlie, my first lips-only kiss. We were in sixth grade, and we used to walk home from school together. One day when we got to my house, he was acting nervous, and he looked me in the eye and said, ‘I need to kiss you.’ I was about as clueless as a girl could be, so I asked why, and he said because he really liked me and his older brother told him if he didn’t kiss me, someone else would. So I puckered up and got my first kiss. I thought it was a pretty perfect first kiss, because I liked him, too. Unfortunately, Brock had stayed home from school that day and saw it. He stormed outside, looming over the poor kid, and proceeded to give him hell. Charlie never walked me home again.”

  “Were you mad at Brock?”

  “Heck yes I was mad at him. He was a bully.”

  “He was protective. There’s a difference. I like knowing that about him.”

  “Well, then you’d better watch your back, because not much has changed. Although, he does have a girlfriend now, so maybe he’s got less time to loom than he used to.” She giggled and rested her cheek on his chest again. “How about your first kiss?”

  “I was twelve, she was thirteen, and I thought I was hot shit. Her name was Twyla, and it was at one of the jam sessions. We smashed teeth and I cut her lip. I wasn’t very suave back then.”

  They both laughed.

  “I’m glad to report you’re much better at it now.” She pressed a kiss to his ribs through his shirt. “You probably shouldn’t mention that to Chloe. You might never live it down. Hey, Gavin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for tonight. It helped. I think I’m going to try to swing by my parents’ house this weekend and get in touch with my brothers and sister, let them know I’m home and try to see them, too.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. At the end of the day, family is all that matters.”

  “Mm-hm,” she said softly.

  They fell into comfortable silence. If Gavin listened carefully, he could hear past the swishing leaves to the soft, peaceful sounds of Harper’s breathing, which had slowed to the sounds of slumber. Maybe she was jet-lagged, or maybe she was trusting her instincts again with him. Either way, he wouldn’t let her down. He tucked the blanket around her and closed his eyes, thanking the stars above for whatever magic had to have happened to bring her back into his life.

  When it dawned on him that it wasn’t magic that had brought her back, but the cancelation of her show, guilt sliced through him, strengthening hi
s resolve to help her find her next muse.

  Chapter Six

  A COOL BREEZE brushed over Harper’s cheek. She slowly became aware of Gavin’s heart beating against her chest, something hard against her belly, and a very large hand down the back of her sweatpants, holding her bare ass. Her eyes flew open, and his grip on her ass tightened. She was lying on top of him on the lounge chair.

  He made a sad moaning sound, and the arm that was draped across her back pressed firmer, holding her in place. “Don’t move. You feel good.”

  He felt amazing, too. He was warm and firm. Hard. Oh God!

  “Gavin…”

  “What? Nothing happened. You trusted your instincts and fell asleep. It was nice being close to you.”

  “Your hand is on my ass,” she pointed out.

  He pressed his warm lips to her forehead and squeezed her butt. “Commando. Nice.” He opened his eyes, and he groaned in the darkness. “It’s not even morning yet.”

  “If the phrase ‘morning wood’ means anything, then your body disagrees despite the color of the sky.”

  “That’s your fault, beautiful.” He shifted them onto their sides and put one thick leg over both of hers, trapping her against him.

  She couldn’t suppress a smile. “Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

  “I’m not.” He pressed his lips to hers, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The strange thing was, it felt that way to her, too, and even more so when he said, “Morning, beautiful. Want to watch the sunrise?”

  “I would love that, but you’ll have to move your hand.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He moved it lower, his fingers grazing very close to her privates.

  “Gavin!”

  She pulled his hand from her pants, and he rolled on top of her. His sexy, happy green eyes coasted over her face. His hair was spiky, and his scruff was thick, like his arousal. Heat darted through her. She quickly shifted her eyes away.

  “What just happened?” he asked with a serious tone.

  “Nothing,” she said, trying to stop an unstoppable smile.

  “You’re an awful liar. You’re even more stunning when you wake up in my arms.”