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Seaside Hearts (Love in Bloom: Seaside Summers, Book 2) Contemporary Romance

Page 8

by Melissa Foster


  “Finish the wine. I’m getting cold.” Leanna reached for one of Amy’s blankets.

  “That’s because all you’re wearing is Kurt’s sweatshirt,” Amy said.

  Leanna arched a brow. “If you slept with my fiancé, would you wear clothes?”

  Amy took a swig of wine. “If I slept with your fiancé, you’d beat my ass, so it wouldn’t matter what I wore. I’d be dead.”

  Jenna sighed. “Can we focus? I have one more confession.”

  All eyes locked on her.

  “When I was clutching him for dear life, buck naked…” She drew in a deep breath. “I didn’t feel a zing.”

  Bella was putting a chunk of cookie dough in her mouth, and she stopped with her hand in the air. “What?”

  “It was more of a ZING, POW, BAM!”

  Amy squealed and hugged Jenna. Bella wrapped her arms around Jenna from behind. Leanna jumped to her feet, and then all four of them were jumping in a circle, hugging and laughing in a celebratory dance.

  Bella tripped and reached for Amy on her way down, pulling both of them into the pool. Jenna doubled over in laughter and fell forward, headfirst into the water. The three of them broke the surface in fits of laughter, clinging to one another as they swam for the side of the pool.

  “Shh!” Leanna reached for their hands. “Shh. Theresa’s going to catch us!” As they climbed from the pool, Leanna wrapped blankets around them. “Theresa’s light is on. We’re so dead.”

  “Hurry.” Jenna ran to the gate and held it open.

  “The bottles!” Amy ran back, gathered the bottles, and joined Bella under her blanket. “So, why did you invite Charlie on the boat, anyway?”

  Jenna’s teeth were chattering as she tried to lock the gate. She dropped the lock. “Darn it.” She fumbled in the darkness for it. “Shit. Oh my God. Oh, here it is.” She lifted it with a smile and worked at hooking it to the chain again. “I did it to make Pete jealous.” Jenna felt silly saying it out loud, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. She locked the gate as the beam of a flashlight lit up the center of the road.

  “Cripes!” Amy grabbed Bella’s hand. “Run!”

  They ran in a huddle behind the cottages on the other side of the road, laughing and shushing one another, then peered around the corner at Theresa as she unlocked the pool gate and walked onto the deck.

  “My vote is to show up at Pete’s house wearing nothing but a raincoat tied at the waist,” Bella whispered. “Throw the man on the floor and devour every inch of him. Give him a taste of his own medicine. Leave him begging for more.”

  “Bella!” Amy whispered. “She gets flustered around him. How is she gonna…you know?”

  “Oh shit. She found the cookie dough wrapper.” Jenna pointed to Theresa, who stood on the pool deck with one hand on her hip, the other holding the wrapper.

  “Quick, into Amy’s!” Jenna took Amy’s hand and pulled her toward her cottage.

  “I think Pete’s either trying to pull Jenna out of her stupor when she’s around him, or he’s, you know, laying it all on the table so Jenna can either decide to put down roots or go seed some other lawn.” Bella followed them into Amy’s cottage. They closed the curtains and kept the lights off, while Amy hustled into the bathroom and grabbed towels for all of them except Leanna.

  “I’m not seeding anyone’s lawn,” Jenna hissed. “But I have to admit that I’m not over Pete. The man practically gave me the big O with nothing more than a whisper and a hand on my naked hip.”

  “You are a naughty, naughty girl, Jenna. I’m kinda jealous.” Amy handed Bella and Jenna towels.

  Bella peered out the front curtains. “Shh. She’s standing in front of Amy’s cottage.”

  “What now?” Amy whispered.

  Bella closed the curtains and waved them all into the room at the back of the cottage. “Now Jenna has to decide if she’s planting roots in Mount St. Peter or playing in the sand with Charlie.” Bella patted Jenna’s shoulder. “Just remember one thing. You’re a woman, and women can be just as fierce as men. You’ve never been afraid of a man in your life, so whatever’s running around in that cute little organized head of yours probably has nothing to do with being afraid of him. Maybe you act afraid of Pete because of what letting Pete see the real you means in your own head. What it means to you.”

  “I don’t get it,” Leanna said. “Do you mean like how I was worried that I’d be out of sync with Kurt and how you kept your love of frilly things from Caden? Well, and the rest of the world, but you know what I mean.”

  “Maybe,” Bella whispered. “I’m not sure. But Pete’s the only guy Jenna has ever really liked, and he’s the only guy she isn’t able to talk to. It has to mean something.”

  Amy yawned. “Jenna, I think you shouldn’t worry about erotic anything, because in my experience, guys are all talk with not nearly enough follow-through. It’s like how they all think six inches is really eight.”

  “Right,” Leanna agreed. “You know, guys are so dumb like that. We don’t walk around saying we’re double D’s when we’re C’s.”

  “Um…” Jenna looked down at the two bowling balls strapped to her chest.

  “You put us all to shame.” Bella glanced down at her own perfect C’s. “But Caden likes mine, so I’m happy.”

  “Hey, can we not talk about things we don’t all have?” Amy pointed to her chest. “I think B cup is pushing it over here.”

  “I’d give you some of mine if I could,” Jenna offered.

  “I know you would. I think you should just follow your heart, Jenna.” Amy patted her own heart. “If it turns out Petey is a perv, you can stop seeing him.”

  “We’re not even seeing each other, and he makes my heart go ten types of crazy.” Good crazy. Exciting crazy.

  “That’s not a bad thing, hon.” Amy yawned again. “I have to go to sleep or I’ll be whipped tomorrow.”

  Jenna scrunched her shoulders and clenched her eyes shut. “Don’t hate me, but I told Charlie I’d go out with him this weekend.”

  “Why on earth are you leading him on?” Bella ran her fingers through her hair, which was a tangled mass of wet blond waves.

  Jenna shrugged. “Guys lead girls on all the time, and he’s really nice and hot. Who knows? Maybe a zing will appear.”

  “Miss Zing Pow Bam, I doubt you’re gonna zing for anyone but Pete. I’ve got to get home.” Bella tiptoed to the front window again and peered out. “Caden has an early shift tomorrow, and I always get up with him.”

  “You’re so sweet, Bella. I lie in bed for twenty minutes after Kurt gets up and listen to him typing on his laptop. It’s comforting.”

  “I want comforting,” Amy said with another sigh.

  “Oh shit.” Bella closed the curtains and covered her mouth.

  “What?” Jenna pulled the curtains back. She spotted the cookie dough wrappers on the porch and slammed the curtains shut. “Shit, shit, shit. She knows it was us.”

  “Great.” Amy sank onto her couch. “Now she thinks I’m the bad one.”

  “Oh, hush,” Bella said. “No one ever thinks you’re the bad one. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.”

  “Well, girls, are we on for the beach tomorrow?” Leanna asked.

  “Yeah,” they all agreed.

  On the way back to her cottage, Jenna thought about what Bella said about being afraid of something other than Pete. She thought of her parents’ divorce and her mother floundering to navigate a future that she hadn’t planned for or wanted. She pulled the screen door open and pushed the uncomfortable thoughts away. Maybe Bella was right, and what she was afraid of was staring her in the face every time her mother called. Maybe there really was no happily ever after.

  Chapter Seven

  PETE STOPPED BY the hardware store early Wednesday morning and found his father in the back office, punching figures into a calculator. He unhooked Joey’s leash. She burst forward and climbed into his father’s lap. He needed a distraction this morning, af
ter Jenna’s reaction—or lack thereof—last night. He focused on his father as he slowly spun his old rolling desk chair toward Pete. His eyes lit up as he petted Joey. He loved that dog as much as Pete did. He greeted Pete with a wide smile.

  “Peter, how’s it going, son?” His hair stood on end, and his jaw and neck were peppered with two days’ worth of stubble, an indicator of at least one hard night.

  Damn.

  Not for the first time, Pete felt guilt and anger clawing at him. Guilt, because he knew his father needed help and he loved him too much to force him into rehab, and on its heels, anger, for being too weak to do what his father so obviously needed him to.

  “Hey, Pop. I just came by to see how you’re doing.”

  His father set Joey down, and the pup barked and sniffed his shoes. “Working the books. It’s a pain in the ass,” he grumbled. “I have no idea how your mother did it for all those years, bless her heart.” He stood and embraced Pete.

  Out of habit, Pete inhaled, smelling for hints of alcohol. Thankfully, there were none, but Pete wasn’t fooling himself. He knew alcoholics could mask their dirty little secret too many ways to count. Still, Pete breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of the warmth of his father’s embrace. Softer around the middle now from age and alcohol, Neil still had strong arms that carried the memories of the attentive father he’d always been, and memories of their close-knit family, which had become frayed by rattled emotions with their father’s drinking.

  “I told you I would find a bookkeeper to do it for you.”

  Neil swatted the air as he headed into the store with Joey trotting alongside. “Pfft. Family business doesn’t mean hiring someone off the street, you know.” It was a bone of contention among his father and all of his children. Pete’s younger siblings had found careers off the Cape. Like Pete, they didn’t have any interest in working in a hardware store, and although it made Pete sad to think about, he knew that when his father retired, they’d likely sell the store, and Lacroux Hardware would become a thing of the past.

  He followed his father to the register. “So, you’re doing okay, then?” The store hadn’t changed in years. It was a typical hardware store with stocked metal shelves, linoleum floors, and no decorations other than the open sign hanging from the door. His father had never been one for frivolities.

  “Fine, fine.” His father picked up an inventory clipboard and proceeded to the paint aisle.

  Pete ran his eyes over his father’s polo shirt and jeans, both clean and unwrinkled. A thread of hope weaved its way through Pete’s heart. It was a pattern he’d tried to break, hoping a new day would bring a wake-up call for his father before a heart attack did. As much as it pained him to know that there would likely be no alarm going off in his father’s head, when Pete had first realized he had a drinking problem, he’d approached him about getting help, and his father had been knee-deep in denial. Weeks later, his brothers had staged a full-on intervention, much to Pete’s dismay. Their efforts had caused a fissure in their relationship with their father for a few hard months—with the exception of Sky, who had been oblivious to their attempts. While his brothers could escape their father’s wrath of denial by going back to their respective lives, Pete remained. Eventually, Pete relented the fight, unwilling to lose the father he loved in that manner. Guilt-ridden was now a perpetual state for Pete, as he knew that if he didn’t intervene, every day he saw his father might be his last.

  “Okay, Pop. Then I’m gonna head out. Do you want to come by tonight and help with the boat? I could use a hand with the caulking.” Come on, Pop. Just one night. Pete may have given up pushing his father to get help, but he never gave up hope that if he could convince his father to get back into the hobby he used to live for—refitting boats, as he’d taught Pete to do—that he might think twice about diving headfirst into the bottle the next time the urge took hold.

  His father mumbled under his breath, something about too much work.

  Pete leashed Joey and hesitated for a second, his mind and heart battling over trying again to convince his father to get help. He replayed the last conversation they’d had about it in his mind. Hey, Pop, drinking isn’t going to bring Mom back. Why don’t we check out an AA meeting? I’ll go with you. His father’s eyes had narrowed, a rare scowl settling on his lips before he turned his back to Pete in a dismissive manner and grumbled, AA. I don’t need AA. Go on, son. I’ve lived my life. Go live yours.

  He only wished he could.

  AFTER SPENDING THE day at the beach, Jenna and Amy threw on sundresses over their bathing suits and went to the library to help prepare and organize for the annual book sale.

  “Want to grab dinner at Mac’s after this?” Amy asked.

  “Uh-huh.” Jenna stood before a box of books, withdrawing one after another, flipping through them, then writing the price for each on the inside cover before placing them neatly in the appropriately labeled boxes, alphabetized by author, of course.

  “Can you believe Theresa didn’t say anything this morning about the cookie dough wrapper when she saw us?” Amy asked. “It’s like she wants us to know that she knows we’re the ones who broke the rules, but she doesn’t want to confront us.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with us. I think she wants Bella to know that she knows, without giving Bella the gratification of seeing her get upset.” Jenna eyed Amy. “But that’s Bella’s thing. You know she loves to prank Theresa, and she’ll keep doing things that she’s not supposed to until she gets a rise out of her—all done with love, of course.”

  “Of course. We all love Theresa.”

  “Ames, I’ve been thinking about Pete.” She watched Amy, who kept her eyes trained on her books, but smiled with Jenna’s admission.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She priced three more books in silence.

  “Are we playing mental telepathy? You know I suck at that game.”

  Jenna laughed. “I just don’t know what I think, but I’m thinking about him. You know, we’re friends, and I love that, but I want so much more, and at the same time, I don’t want to risk our friendship.”

  “True.” Amy continued penciling in prices.

  “And I’ve never really told him I was interested, and now that he’s shown an interest, he makes my heart go even wilder, making it even scarier to try to let him know how I really feel.”

  “Yes.”

  Amy was doing what Amy did best, drawing out Jenna’s thoughts by refusing to give her answers. She was patient to a fault, and when it came to Pete, Jenna knew she needed to be handled in that fashion. Telling Jenna she loved Pete brought out her defenses. This summer was supposed to be about finding happiness regardless of Peter Lacroux. Liar, liar. She’d been locked in her own mind for too long, running circles around Charlie and always circling back to Pete.

  “I also think Bella was right, that he’s never had competition for my attention before.” She set down the book she was holding and faced Amy. “So, now that Pete has made it clear that he wants to take our friendship to the next level I should probably figure out how to talk to him so I can give him the same chance I gave Charlie.”

  Amy lifted her gaze to Jenna. “But?”

  “But…” Jenna joined Amy and took the book from her hands and set it down. She leaned her butt against the table, and Amy did the same. “Suppose when the competition is gone, he’s no longer so hot to trot for me?”

  Amy pressed her lips together for a second. “I wish I had an answer, but honestly, that could happen.”

  “Yeah, I know. Sometimes I wish you could lie.”

  “I can lie, just not very well. Who knows? Maybe it won’t happen.” Amy turned back to the books. “What then?”

  “Mad, erotic threesomes with anal sex?” Jenna sashayed back to her table.

  “Eww. You’re a pig.” Amy laughed.

  “Ha!” She threw her head back with the laugh and turned back toward Amy. “I don’t know what then, but the
next time he corners me, I’m not going to let my stupid body steal my ability to act like I would with anyone else. I’m going to climb his body like scaffolding”—she moved her hands and feet up and down as if she were scaling him—“wrap my legs around his waist, and kiss those amazing lips until he realizes that there is no woman on earth as incredibly smart and sexy as me!”

  Amy’s eyes widened.

  “Okay, as me, you, Leanna, and Bella, of course, but you know what I mean.”

  Jenna closed her eyes and spun around. “That’s exactly what I’ll do.” She opened her eyes and found Charlie standing with his hands on his hips, straight off the construction site, his tank top drenched in sweat and black gunk, and a smart-ass grin on his face.

  Oh shit.

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.” He closed in on Jenna, lifted her up, and sealed his lips over hers, stroking her tongue with deep, intense motions that should have sent her legs around his waist, only she was too wrapped up in thoughts of Pete.

  Jenna opened her eyes wide, midkiss, then slammed them closed again. Kissing Charlie made her feel a little queasy—far from anything resembling a zing—and maybe relieved that he thought she was talking about him. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how to handle the explanation if he found out she was talking about someone else.

  She heard the back door to the stockroom open, and Jenna’s eyes sprang open. She was still in Charlie’s arms, eye to eye with his hungry stare—and in clear view of Pete, standing just inside the door with daggers shooting from his eyes and steam practically streaming from his ears.

  “Pete.” Jenna didn’t know if she’d actually said his name or not. She pushed from Charlie’s arms and landed with a thud on the floor as Amy spun around—and Pete stormed out of the building.

 

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