Dreaming of Love

by Melissa Foster

  “Emily said you weren’t exactly picky,” Dae said. All of the Braden men were more than six feet tall, with dark hair and hallmark Braden dark eyes. Dae fit right into the tall, dark, and built-for-a-fight mold, although he wore his hair much longer than the close-cut styles Jake and his brothers sported.

  “Life’s short, man. Gotta share the love.” Jake thanked the bartender for his drink and leaned his hip against the bar, allowing himself a better view of the tables and the dance floor in the back of the bar. “I don’t remember there being this many good-looking women in Trusty.”

  Wes turned around and eyed the dance floor. “Your standards have gone to shit, bro.”

  “Ouch, man. That hurts.” Jake laughed.

  “Come on,” Pierce said. “Let’s get a booth in the back where we can talk.” As the oldest, Pierce was used to directing. Their father had left before Jake was born, and Pierce had stepped in and watched over them all. Pierce owned resorts all over the world, and there had been a time when Pierce matched Jake woman for woman—a playboy without any interest in settling down. But meeting Rebecca Rivera had changed all of that. Jake was the last single Braden, and he intended to keep it that way.

  “Sounds good to me. I forgot how meat-markety bars are. Haven’t been in one for a while,” Ross said as he followed Pierce away from the bar.

  Jake watched them take a few steps. They were a good-looking bunch, no doubt, but something about the way his brothers carried themselves had changed since they’d each entered couplehood. The sharp edges they’d honed hadn’t exactly turned soft—Braden men were alpha to the core—but Jake noticed less of a swagger and more of a confident, my-woman’s-waiting-at-home hitch in their gait.

  “I’m gonna grab another beer. Meet you there in a sec.” Jake waved them off and eyed the blonde again. She was twisting her hair around her finger and eyeing him like he was a big old chocolate bar. Oh yeah, baby. You can have a piece.

  She smiled and sauntered over. She arched her back and leaned in close, giving Jake a clear view down her sweetly low-cut blouse.

  “Jake Braden, right?” she said in a heady voice.

  “The one and only.” He held her seductive gaze, but hell if in the back of his mind he didn’t hear his brother’s words. Your standards have gone to shit, bro.

  Standards. Jake wasn’t sure he had many of those left, and he liked his life that way. Uncomplicated. No ties to anyone other than himself and his family. He swigged back his beer and ordered another.

  Blondie slipped her index finger into the waist of his low-slung jeans. Her eyes widened as she wiggled that finger against his skin, searching for drawers she wouldn’t find. Jake grinned.

  “You’ve got quite a rep around here.” She glanced down at her finger, still hooked in the waist of his jeans. “Is it true that stuntmen do it rough?”

  Jake leaned down and put his mouth beside her ear, inhaling the scent of her sweet perfume and letting her anticipation build before answering. He knew how to play the game. He was a master at it. Hell, most of the time he felt like he’d invented it. He did a quick sweep of the bar, readying to tell her just how good he could be—rough and raw or gentle as a field of daisies—when his eyes caught on Fiona Steele sitting at a booth near the back of the room and staring directly at him. His gut clenched tight.

  Fuck.

  Blondie tugged on his waistband, bringing him back to the current situation, where he was leaning over a twentysomething blonde who may or may not have slept with half of Trusty. His brain was stuck. He couldn’t think clearly. Fiona was there, and she looked so damn good that he felt himself getting hard. If his dick were a guy, he’d knock the hell out of it. He’d done a damn good job of avoiding her for all these years—well, except last year, when in a moment of weakness he’d tried to find her the last time he’d been back in town. He never had found her, but he’d found a brunette from another town more than willing to take the edge off his pent-up frustrations.

  He forced his eyes away from Fiona, grabbed his beer from the bar, and stalked toward the back of the bar without a word to Blondie.

  “Hey!” Blondie called after him.

  He kept his eyes trained on the back wall of the bar with one goal in mind, to find his brothers and drink himself into oblivion.

  “Jake.”

  He hadn’t heard her voice in years, and it still sent heat searing through him—and stopped him cold. Walk. Keep moving. His body betrayed him and turned to face Fiona Steele. His eyes swept over her flawless skin. Her sharp jawbone and high cheekbones gave her a regal look. Not in a pretentious way, but in the way of a woman so naturally beautiful that it set her apart from all others. His eyes paused on her almond-shaped eyes, as blue as the night sea. God, he’d always loved her eyes. Her face was just as beautiful as it had been when she was a teenager, maybe even more so. He shifted his gaze lower, to her sweet mouth, remembering the first night they’d made out. They were both fifteen, almost sixteen. She’d tasted like Colgate toothpaste and desire. They’d kissed slowly and tenuously. He’d urged her mouth open, and when their tongues touched for the first time, his entire body had electrified in a way he’d never matched with any other woman. Kissing Fiona had made his entire body prickle with need. He’d dreamed of her kisses, longed for them every hour they were apart. They’d made out between classes and after school, staying together late into the night. Her mouth was like kryptonite, stealing any willpower he’d ever possessed.

  Until that summer afternoon, when that mouth he’d fallen in love with broke his heart for good.

  “Jake,” Fiona repeated.

  He clenched his jaw and shifted his eyes over her shoulder—not seeing anything in particular as he tried to move past the memory of losing the only person he’d ever loved. He’d spent years forcing himself to forget how much he loved her and grow the hell up, and in doing so, he hadn’t allowed himself to even say her name. And now he didn’t want to hear it coming from his lungs. Instead he lifted his chin in response.

  “You look great. How have you been?”

  Maybe no one else would have picked up on the slight tremor in her voice, or the way she was fidgeting with the edge of her shirt, but Jake remembered every goddamn mannerism and what it meant. Good. She should be nervous.

  He knew he was being a prick, but years of repressed anger simmered inside him. The memory of the first time they’d made love slammed into his mind. He remembered the almost paralyzing fear and the thrill of it being her first time, and his. He’d worried that he wouldn’t last or he’d do something wrong, but his biggest fear had been that he’d hurt her. He turned away, trying to force the thought away. Little did he know that two years later, it would be her who’d do the hurting.

  “Great, thanks,” he managed. It was no use. He couldn’t resist meeting her gaze again, and the moment he did, he felt himself being sucked into her eyes, stirring up the memories he’d tried to forget. He couldn’t look away. Not even when the memory of her dumping him all those years ago came back like hot coals burning him from the inside out. She’d stopped taking his calls, and though she’d returned his texts for the first day or two, after that it was like she’d vanished without caring that she’d ripped his guts out.

  She shifted her eyes and he saw them lock on Wes. She smiled in his direction, then quickly looked away.

  What the hell was that about? Jake pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “Gotta go meet my brothers.”

  “Oh.” Fiona dropped her eyes, breaking their connection.

  Jake’s synapses finally fired and he turned away, catching sight of Shea waving from a booth to his left. She’d been barely a teenager when he’d left for college, as starry-eyed and naive as the day was long. He lifted his chin in greeting and stalked back to his brothers’ table.

  “I’m outta here.” He felt the heat of Fiona’s stare on his back.

  “What? You haven’t even had a beer with us.” Pierce smacked the seat beside him. “Sit your ass down, br
o.”

  Jake blew out a frustrated breath. “She’s here.”

  Wes and Ross exchanged a knowing glance that made his blood boil. He got the feeling that they’d known Fiona was going to be there. What the hell is going on?

  Pierce grabbed Jake’s arm and yanked his ass down beside him. “Sit down and have a beer with your family and Dae.”

  Normally Jake would tell Pierce to kiss off when he was in a mood like this, but something strange was going on inside him. He was too angry and confused to bother. He couldn’t get the image of Fiona’s beautiful face out of his mind. Goddamn it. He picked up Pierce’s beer, and when Pierce opened his mouth to complain, Jake shut him up with a fight-me-for-it glare and sucked it down. He should have grabbed the blonde chick and left the bar for a night of no-strings-attached sex. Now he was bound to be up all night, trying to forget the hopeful and pained look in Fiona’s eyes—the same damn look she’d had when she’d kicked him to the curb.

  “You didn’t have to be a dick to her,” Wes said. “You look like a rattlesnake coiled to strike.”

  “That was an asshole move,” Ross agreed. “You left her standing there looking stupid when she was just trying to say hello.”

  Jake looked away from them, breathing harder by the second.

  “Jake.” Dae’s dark eyes turned serious. “Weren’t you with her for two years or something? She’s probably trying to mend fences or find closure.”

  “Yeah?” Jake rose to his feet and slammed the beer down on the table. “Well, I’m not that guy anymore, and I have no interest in mending a damn thing.” He turned on his heel, stormed over to the bar, grabbed Blondie’s hand, and dragged her outside, chased by the forlorn look in Fiona’s eyes and the clawing ache of wishing it were her he was helping into his car.

  (End of Sneak Peek)

  To continue reading, be sure to pick up the next

  LOVE IN BLOOM release:

  CRASHING INTO LOVE, The Bradens

  Please enjoy a preview of the next

  Love in Bloom novel

  Seaside

  Secrets

  Seaside Summers, Book Four

  Love in Bloom Series

  Melissa Foster

  Chapter One

  “I JUST CAN’T believe that Jamie’s the first one to get married. I mean, Jamie? He never even wanted to get married.” Amy Maples was three sheets to the wind, sitting in a bar at the Ryder Resort in Boston. That was okay, she rationalized, because it was the night before her good friends Jessica Ayers and Jamie Reed’s wedding, and she and her friends were celebrating. Besides, now that Jessica and Jamie were getting married and her other three besties had gotten engaged, Amy was the only single woman of the group. Drunk was the only way she was going to make it through the weekend.

  “But that was before he met Jessica and she rocked his world.” Jenna leaned across the table in the dimly lit bar and grabbed Amy’s hand.

  Amy saw Jenna’s lips curve into a smile as she shifted her eyes to Tony Black, another friend they’d known forever, sitting with his arm around Amy, as per usual. Jenna raised her brows with a smile, implying something Amy knew wasn’t true. She rolled her eyes in response. Tony always sat with his arm around her, and it didn’t mean a damn thing, no matter how much she wished it did.

  Amy and her besties, Jenna Ward, Bella Abbascia, and Leanna Bray, had grown up spending summers together at the Seaside community in Wellfleet, Massachusetts, and to this day they continued to spend their summers there, along with Jamie and Tony. The six of them had spent eight weeks together every summer for as long as Amy could remember. Their parents had owned the Seaside cottages, which they’d passed down to them. Summers were Amy’s favorite time of year. Now that Amy’s company, Maples Logistical & Conference Consulting, was so successful, she was able to take eight weeks off while her small staff handled the workload. Amy had spent seven years building and nurturing the business, and over the last three years she had turned it into a six-figure venture with clients varying from accounting to full-on logistical consulting. She could hardly believe how her life, and her summers, had changed. Just four years ago she was working part-time during the summers at one of the local restaurants to keep a modicum of income coming in. She loved summers even more now that she didn’t have to work. Of course, her love of summers might also have something to do with being in love with the six-foot-two professional surfer and motivational speaker currently sitting beside her.

  If only it were reciprocated. She tipped back her glass and took another swig of her get-over-Tony drink.

  “Petey, can you please get me another drink?” Jenna batted her lashes at her fiancé, Pete Lacroux. She and Pete had gotten engaged last year. Pete was a boat craftsman and he also handled the pool maintenance at Seaside. Pete nuzzled against her neck, and Amy slid her eyes away. Maybe if Sky, Pete’s sister, were there, she’d feel a little better. Sky wasn’t currently dating anyone either, but Sky had to work, so Amy was on her own.

  Bella and her fiancé, Caden Grant, were whispering nose to nose, Leanna was sitting on Kurt’s lap with her forehead touching his, and Jamie and Jessica were looking at each other like they couldn’t wait to tear each other’s clothes off. Amy stole a glance at Tony, and her heart did a little dance. Delicious and painful memories from the summer before college tried to edge into her mind. As she’d done for the past fourteen years, she pushed them down deep as Tony leaned in close.

  God, she loved how he smelled, like citrus and spice with an undertone of masculinity and sophistication. She knew he wore Dolce & Gabbana’s The One. She kept a bottle of The One beside her bed at home in Boston, and every once in a while, in the dead of winter or on the cusp of spring, when months stretched like eons before she’d see Tony again, she’d spray the cologne on her pillow so she could smell him as she drifted off to sleep. It never smelled quite as good as Tony himself. Then again, Tony could be covered in sweat after a five-mile run, or laden with sea salt after a day of surfing, and he’d still smell like heaven on legs. Since they were just friends, and it looked like there was no chance of them becoming more, she relied on her fantasies to keep her warm. When she was alone in bed at night, she held on to the image of Tony wearing only his board shorts, his broad shoulders and muscular chest glistening wet, muscles primed from the surf, and those delicious abs blazing a path to his—

  Tony pressed his hand to her shoulder and pulled her against him, bringing her mind back to the present.

  “Time for ice water?” he asked just above a whisper.

  So much for her fantasy. She was always the good girl who did the right thing, the only exception being occasionally having an extra drink or two when she was with her Seaside friends. At least that’s what she led everyone to believe. Only she and Tony knew that wasn’t the only exception—and she made sure that was a taboo subject between them. He wouldn’t dare bring it up. She might not survive if he did. She sobered a little with the memory and shifted it back into the it-never-happened place she buried deep inside her. Her secret was lonely in that hollow place, being the only one kept under lock and key.

  She met Tony’s denim-blue eyes and felt a familiar rush of anticipation in her belly. Maybe tonight she wouldn’t be the good girl.

  “Um, actually, I think I want another drink.”

  Tony arched a brow in that sexy way that made his eyes look even more intense. He pressed his cheek to hers and whispered, “Ames, you can’t show up for the wedding tomorrow with a hangover.”

  No, she certainly couldn’t. But she’d like him to stay right where he was for a while longer, thank you very much. Since she had a life-changing job offer in hand—a dream job worthy of closing down the business she’d spent seven years building and keeping only a handful of clients—she and her girlfriends had decided it was time for Amy to take a chance and lay her feelings on the line with Tony. She picked up her glass and ran her finger around the rim, hoping she looked sexy doing it. Then she sucked that finger into her mou
th, feeling a little silly.

  I suck at this whole seduction thing.

  “I’m a big girl, Tony. I think I know what I can handle.” And I don’t want to handle my liquor tonight. I have plans. Big plans.

  Tony rose to his feet with a perturbed look on his face and rubbed his stubbly jaw. “You sure?”

  “Mm-hm.” Even as she said it, she considered saying, Water’s good. Just get me water. She watched him walk up to the bar. At heart, Amy was a good girl. Her courage faltered and she tried to hang on to a shred of it. She needed to know if there was even the slightest chance that she and Tony might end up together. The problem was, she wasn’t a seductress. She didn’t even know where to begin. That was Jenna’s forte, with her hourglass figure and sassy personality. Even Bella, who was as brash as she was loving, had pulled off being seductive with Caden. The sexy-kitten pictures on Amy’s pajamas were more seductive than she was.

  “Oh my God. I thought he’d never leave the table.” Jenna glanced at Caden, Kurt, and Jamie, still enthralled with their fiancées at the other end of the table. She pulled Amy across the table and whispered, “This is your night. I can feel it!” She sat back and swayed to the music in her tight green spaghetti-strap dress with a neckline cut so low Pete could probably get lost in there.

  Amy looked down at the slinky black dress the girls had put her in earlier that evening. They were always trying to sex her up. One look at you in this dress with these fuck-me heels and Tony’s gonna be all over you, Jenna had said while Jessica and Bella shimmied the dress down Amy’s pin-thin body. Fits like a glove. A sexy, slither-me-out-of-this glove, Leanna had added. They’d pushed her into a chair, plied her with wine, and sometime later—Amy had no idea how long, because the alcohol had not only made her body go all loose and soft, but it had turned her brain to mush—they were in the bar with the men, and with her friends’ confidence, she’d actually begun to believe that she might be able to pull off being übersexy for a night. Her mind might be foggy, but she’d caught a few words while the girls primped her into a hot, racy woman she didn’t recognize. Her friends had thrown out words like sexy, hot, take him as if they were handing out doses of confidence.