Sweet Escape at Bayside (Sweet with Heat

by Addison Cole

  Violet pried her off. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know about that. I don’t do girlfriend time.”

  “You do now!” Emery dragged her out of the office. “I need to grab a shirt, and then it’s girlfriend time!”

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Violet and Emery sat in a café with shopping bags at their feet and a plate of nachos between them.

  “Admit it,” Emery said as she snagged a chip. “You had fun shopping with me.”

  “It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever endured.”

  “Ha! You liked it!” She picked up another chip and waved it at her. “And I didn’t make you buy a bunch of…What did you call it?”

  Violet stifled a laugh. “Frilly stuff.”

  She’d been stifling laughs all afternoon. She didn’t usually tag along on the girls’ shopping trips, although she’d shopped with Desiree before, and of course she’d gone wedding-dress shopping with Desiree and the girls. But Desiree and the others were always giggling, and Violet might be a lot of things, but she was not a giggler.

  “Right. Although I think you’d look hot in a naughty-nurse outfit with a frilly little skirt.” She waggled her brows.

  “Where was that suggestion when we were shopping?” Andre would love that. They had a naughty-nurse outfit in their adult toy shop, along with several other sexy options. Hm…

  “Hey, do you blame me for shutting up? I was afraid for my life after I showed you the black blouse with the ruffled collar. No way was I going to suggest anything else with frills or ruffles.” Emery sat back and tossed another chip in her mouth. “I wanted to talk to you about throwing a welcome-home party for Des and Rick. I was thinking of using the community center at the resort…”

  As Emery went on about the party, Violet’s thoughts turned to Andre. He was a brave man. Not many people would push her, and he’d only ever hesitated to push her with regard to one thing—making love for the very first time. She’d sensed then what she now knew to be true. They’d been so deeply connected from the start, he’d known exactly what she’d needed, and he’d put off his own desires to give it to her.

  At least until that proposal had fallen from his lips.

  His voice whispered through her mind. I was crazy in love, and I didn’t think through any of that. All I knew was that I wanted a life with you. She smiled to herself. He’d loved her too much to hold back. She’d often wondered if she would have taken off had she not received Lizza’s message, or if she’d stayed, would they have talked about it? Would he have understood that at that point in her life she couldn’t imagine living the structured, stifled existence of a big-city wife? She didn’t have the answers, but she was thankful he was so forgiving and so wise. She wanted to show him how important he was to her, and because of him, she wanted to figure out a way to show her friends how important they were to her, too.

  “Hello.” Emery touched her arm. “I said, what do you think?”

  Emery was looking at her expectantly, but she’d lost track of what Emery was saying.

  “Vi! Geez, what is wrong with you? Are you in for the welcome-home party for Des and Rick the night they come back?”

  “Um, sure, but they’re going to be exhausted from the time difference.”

  “Shoot. I didn’t think about that. But if we put it off, doesn’t Harper come back the next week, and isn’t that when Andre leaves?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for the reminder,” Violet said sarcastically.

  “Let’s do a joint party! A welcome home and send-off all in one.”

  “Sure,” she said, puzzling out her own idea about how to show everyone they were important to her.

  “Great! I’ll have the girls help me plan. Do you want to help?”

  “No. I have my own stuff to figure out.” Violet pushed to her feet and grabbed her bags. “Can we go? I’m sorry, but Andre’s going to be back from the clinic soon and I have a few things I want to get done before he gets home.”

  “Look at you, working your schedule around a guy. I don’t even know who you are right now.”

  “Shut up and get your keys out. I have things to do.”

  “Aaaand she’s back.”

  AT CLOSING TIME, the waiting room of the Outer Cape Health Clinic was still packed. Andre texted Violet to let her know he was running late, and then he worked through stuffy noses, stomachaches, injured bones, and a host of other issues. Almost two hours later, he was finishing up his note about the last patient when Perry, the office administrator, poked her head into the room. Two metal barbells pierced her right eyebrow, a ring hung from her septum, and tattoos decorated her neck.

  “Did we scare you off?” she asked as she stepped into the room and set a box on the floor. Perry was rail thin, with short jet-black hair sculpted into spiky points that darted out from her head at various angles. She was a professional and efficient administrator with a friendly, though take-charge, personality. She could probably pass for being in her early thirties, but the fine lines around her wise eyes—and her twentysomething daughter, Eliza—suggested she was probably closer to her forties. Eliza also worked at the clinic, overseeing the students from the work-study program with the local high school.

  “Hardly,” he said with a smile. “It was a great day. You run a tight ship, and your efficiency makes it easier to see more patients. I really enjoyed getting to know Eliza and the rest of the staff.”

  “We have a good group here, and a caring community.” She reached into the box she’d brought in and lifted out a colorful face mask like the ones Violet had made for the clinic in Ghana. “We were so busy today, I forgot to show you these. A local artist makes them for us to use with the children.”

  “Are they donated anonymously?” he asked.

  “No. Violet Vancroft makes them. She and her sister own the Summer House Inn on the bayside. You should see their place. It’s gorgeous, and they have an art gallery, too.”

  “Vi’s my girlfriend,” he said.

  “And you didn’t know she made the masks? Well, I guess maybe you two don’t do much talking.”

  He chuckled.

  She held up a hand and said, “Hey, no judgments over here, but it’s too bad you’re heading overseas. We could use a doc like you during the summers.”

  “Not in the winter?” he asked.

  “Not as much. Wellfleet and the surrounding areas are tourist towns, tripling in population over the summers. It stays busy until the end of September, but winters are pretty desolate around here.”

  “I don’t see myself settling down to one location again anytime soon, but if I do, I’ll certainly keep the clinic in mind.” He and Violet hadn’t talked about the future in any detail. He didn’t want to rock the boat by bringing it up just yet, but he knew they’d have to broach the subject soon.

  He was thinking about that as he drove home a little while later.

  Violet was sitting on the steps of the main house when he pulled in. She popped up to her feet with a bright smile and strutted across the lawn as he climbed off his bike.

  “How was work?” she asked as he pulled off his helmet.

  She went up on her toes to kiss him, and he held her tight, taking the kiss deeper. She made a low, appreciative sound that made him want to kiss her all night long.

  “It was great, but not nearly as fantastic as that kiss.” He pulled her into another kiss. “Damn, baby. I missed you and we were only apart for a few hours.”

  “Me too. Are you exhausted and starved?”

  “Nope. I’m exhilarated, and I had a granola bar at the clinic, so I’m good for a while. How was your day? Did you get the scheduling and stuff done for the inn?”

  “My day was interesting. I went shopping with Emery.”

  “Whoa, really?”

  “Yeah. It was good. I enjoyed it, but don’t start shoving me into the gossip girl group or anything.”

  He chuckled. “I wasn’t going to, but I’m glad you went.”

  “I didn’t get all my work done, but I will
. I’m working with Joni Wednesday morning, and volunteering at the hospital that afternoon and Friday morning, so I have plenty of time to finish up.”

  “Good. Oh, I almost forgot. I spoke to David today and gave his number to Rowan. Maybe he’ll have some news about Joni by the time you see her.”

  “Thanks for doing that. Since you’re not hungry or tired, come with me, and bring your helmet.” She took his arm, leading him toward her bike.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.” She grabbed her helmet and climbed onto her bike. “Climb on or lose out.”

  “Does this involve you being naked?”

  She smirked. “Possibly. But you’ll never find out if you don’t get your fine butt on my bike.”

  A little while later they were cruising down a narrow road, and a house came into view that reminded Andre of work by Frank Lloyd Wright. He didn’t have long to admire the cantilevered rooms and decks before they turned down another driveway and parked in front of a cool old stone and glass building.

  He pulled off his helmet and said, “Who lives here?”

  As she unlocked the doors she said, “Justin lives in the house we passed. This is his studio. I realized that I told you where I sculpt, but I never told you what I sculpt. I wanted to show you before you see them around.”

  She pushed open the door and stepped to the side. His gaze swept over large slabs of stone, power tools, sculpting tools, mallets, and other paraphernalia littering the concrete floors and metal tables and shelves. Against the far wall were two large stainless-steel sinks, more work areas, and an enormous kiln. A canvas tarp covered something at least five feet tall a few feet from where they stood.

  “That’s mostly Justin’s stuff and the sculpture he’s working on,” Violet said.

  He turned, bringing more tables and sculpting supplies into view, along with art magazines, glazes, and paints. Plastic covered what he knew had to be one of Violet’s sculptures, but his eyes caught on several drawings hanging on a wall behind the table. They were sketches of him sculpting, drawing, sitting cross-legged, lying down, and in various other positions. He recognized two pictures she’d drawn when he was first teaching her to draw the human form.

  He glanced at Violet. She had a pensive look in her eyes. His gaze drifted over her shoulder to a life-size sculpture of a male torso. The shoulders were angled and the clavicle protruded, as if the model had been preparing to throw a ball. The arms stopped just above the biceps. The stomach was neither muscular nor overly soft, though clearly defined with a hint of ribs on the sides and a fold of skin just above the belly button, accentuating the slight twist of the body. The sculpture ended just above the knees. Nestled between thick thighs and a nest of pubic hair were nominal genitals. The definition was incredible.

  He walked around the table and found the backside to be just as beautifully done. The shoulder blades and lats were flexed, as if caught in motion. The spine carved a slim river down the body to the curve of a fleshy buttocks. But it was the rough patch on the left flank that had him breathing harder.

  Violet came to his side and put her hand on the same spot on his back.

  “You put my scar on another man’s body?”

  She shrugged one shoulder and said, “Lots of other men’s bodies, actually. Every torso I make has your mark.”

  He was so deeply touched, he didn’t know what to say. He looked around the studio and said, “Where are the others?”

  “I don’t know. Remember when I told you that no one but Justin knows that I sculpt? He delivers them to galleries and lists them for sale by an anonymous artist. They pay him, and we donate the money.” She smiled and said, “I had no idea SHINE was yours. A lot of the money goes there. I’m donating this one, along with some pottery, to the suicide-awareness rally. Justin will drop it off so they won’t know it’s mine. They’ll auction off all the donations, and the money will be used to help local schools with their suicide-awareness programs.”

  He put his arms around her and kissed her. “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Since I came back. I hope you don’t think it’s creepy. It started as a way to feel closer to you. Eventually my skills got better, and I was no longer creating you with every piece, but putting us into them.”

  “Violet, this is a remarkable piece of art. Why are you keeping it a secret?”

  “It feels private.” She ran her fingers over the scar on the back of the statue. “You taught me how to do this, and I treasure those memories.”

  It was another hidden part of herself, but he couldn’t say he blamed her. What they had then—and now—was definitely worth treasuring.

  “So do I, babe.” He lowered his lips to hers in a deep, loving kiss. “Is this Justin?” He cringed inwardly and said, “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

  “It’s not Justin, but I have sculpted him. It’s just a guy I met when I was out one night. Anonymous, remember? I can’t sculpt the people I’m closest to.”

  “But you did. You sculpted Justin, and that’s okay, Vi. I’m glad he was there for you so you didn’t have to deal with everything on your own all the time.”

  “Is that what Brindle did for you? Helped you deal with it?” She lowered her gaze.

  He lifted her chin and said, “Have you been worrying about her?”

  “No. You said she was only a friend. I just wondered if she helped you in the same way Justin helped me.”

  “I never drew her naked or slept with her, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said with a smile. “She’s pregnant and wasn’t sure how to handle it. I showed her around Paris, and we commiserated about our complicated love lives. You’d like her. She’s impetuous, pushy, and stubborn as a mule, but she’s also kind, funny, and honest.”

  “I’d like to meet her one day, to thank her for telling you to accept Lizza’s offer.”

  She took his hand and led him to the other table. She began unwrapping the plastic from the other large piece he’d noticed and said, “I have something else I want to show you. This is the first piece I’ve made that isn’t a male torso.”

  She gathered the plastic and set it aside, revealing a sculpture of a child sitting, leaning back on one hand, holding the other up. Though her hands and fingers weren’t yet defined, her arms, legs, and feet were. Her hair was beautifully sculpted with adorable waves and ringlets that hung just past her shoulder. Her face was shaped, but there were no features.

  “I’m afraid to do her face, and that bulk of clay by her leg will be her cat,” Violet said. “She loved that cat so much. She’s going to be holding a blue butterfly. I’m going to soak fabric in slip to create her dress.” Slip was like liquid clay, and though the fabric would burn off in the kiln, the slip would retain the form.

  He put his hand on her back and said, “Who is this?”

  “Erin Wilk.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I spent a lot of time with her at the hospital and at her house. She was Joni’s age when she died last year from a brain tumor.”

  “Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” He kissed her temple, holding her tight against his side.

  “She was the sweetest little girl. She loved butterflies and her cat, Igor. She knew she was dying, and she had the most amazing outlook. She said after she went up to heaven she’d come back as a blue butterfly and visit me. It’s so freaking unfair that kids suffer like that when there are jerks in the world who literally deserve to suffer and they get off scot-free.”

  He gathered her in his arms and held her as tears slipped from her eyes. She held on tight, eventually giving in to her grief. Her body shook, her tears soaking his shirt, as if she’d been holding them in since she’d lost her little friend.

  “It’s okay, babe. Let it out. I’ve got you.”

  He had no idea how long he held her, but it was long enough for the sun to disappear and the evening to spill in through the glass ceiling. He wanted to take away all her sadness and all her pain, and he needed to figure o
ut a way that being together wouldn’t cause her more. But soon he’d go away, and he could never ask her to leave her sister or the family they’d created with their friends. That worry was too big for tonight, and he pushed it down deep.

  When her breathing finally calmed, he cradled her face between his hands and wiped her tears with his thumbs. “You loved Erin,” he said softly, wanting her to know he understood.

  She nodded. “Very much.” She inhaled a shaky breath and blew it out slowly. Embarrassment washed over her, and she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  “Baby, don’t be sorry for being sad over losing someone you love. With me you can always honor your feelings, whether they’re sad, happy, angry…” He went for levity and added, “Playful, seductive…”

  She smiled and blinked her eyes dry. “I love you, but if you tell anyone I cried I’ll have to kill you.”

  “Gotcha, boss.” He pressed his lips to hers and said, “Your secrets are always safe with me.”

  “Her parents are having a memorial for her in the spring, and I wanted to give them something special. I figured it’ll take weeks to fully dry.”

  “They’ll love it,” he said, and then he remembered that no one knew she sculpted. “You’re giving them the sculpture? Anonymously?”

  She shook her head. “I’m giving it to them from me, as a gift.”

  His heart filled to near bursting. “That’s wonderful.”

  “I know you brought your own art supplies to work with while you’re here,” she said. “But I was thinking that maybe you could help me and we could finish this together. I’ve never sculpted a face, and you’re so talented…”

  “I’d be honored to work with you.” He kissed her again, tasting the remnants of her salty tears, and then he said, “I ship my art supplies everywhere I go. I thought I’d have a month of lonely nights to fill. I never imagined I’d have the chance to fill them with you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  SATURDAY MORNING, ANDRE went with Dean and Drake to pick up supplies for something Dean and Drake were doing at the resort, which was just as well. Violet was so nervous to meet Andre’s parents, it would have been worse if he were there. She decided to get ready in her cottage, thinking it might ease her nerves.