The Other Room (Door Peninsula Passions Book 2)

by Katherine Hastings

  A handsome man cooking me bacon. Again. Okay, maybe Petunia wasn’t the only spoiled one in this cabin.

  “Morning, Matt.” I smiled, and this time I didn’t have to force it. By the end of our evening at The Garage, the anger and hurt I’d carried around the past year had sloughed off, and we were starting to find our groove again.

  We weren’t us yet... not by a long shot, but we were stepping in the right direction. We’d been like an old married couple before last year. A comfortable way of existing together, finishing each other’s sentences, and knowing what the other was thinking even before they did. But now, even though we were moving toward each other again, it felt different. Fresh. Not unlike dating someone new.

  But we weren’t dating, I reminded myself. Never had, never would. Our rekindled friendship may bring with it the same nerves and uncertainty that came with dating someone new, but our destination was different. Our destination was friendship. Plain and simple.

  “I got a lead on new couch,” he said.

  “Yeah? What’s it look like?”

  “A sweet distressed brown leather. It will look perfect in here. Kasey is selling it. Saw it on Facebook.”

  “Works for me. How much money do you need?”

  He scoffed. “Fixing up your cabin is my treat. Consider it part of my rent.”

  “Matt, I told you last night—”

  “Shush.” He raised a hand and then clamped it shut. “My treat.”

  Not ready to argue with him this early in the day, I just shrugged and kicked my feet up on the boards I called a coffee table.

  “Oh, and I’ve got an idea for a coffee table, too. It’s gonna be sweet.”

  “Whatever you say, handy man.”

  Matt scooped a pile of bacon onto the plate, walked around the small island, and handed it to me. “Eat up. You’re going to need your energy today.”

  “Energy? For what?” I popped a piece of bacon in my mouth. Cooked to perfection. Extra crispy. Just how I liked it.

  “Just eat your bacon and put on your suit. I’ve got a surprise.”

  Arching a brow, I finished chewing. “What kind of surprise?”

  His charming smile stretched wider and mirth danced around in his eyes. I knew that look. I’d seen it hundreds of times and it usually prefaced us getting into a boatload of trouble as kids or running from the cops as adults.

  “If I told you the details, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  “Is this one of your ‘it’s going to be fun’ ideas that ends up with one or both of us needing to get bailed out of jail? Because they told us last time, they wouldn’t let us go with just a warning again.”

  Matt tossed his head back and laughed. “Oh, come on. That was fun and you know it.”

  Pursing my lips, I shrugged. “Yeah. I guess it was. But no cops today.”

  Clamping a piece of bacon between his teeth, he lifted his hand and extended three fingers, mumbling, “No cops. Boy Scout promise.”

  “You weren’t a Boy Scout.” I gave him a knowing glare.

  “Don’t you trust me?” he asked, and the simple question held more weight than I was prepared to comprehend only several minutes after waking up.

  Do I trust him? The short answer was no. Not anymore. But the long answer was more complicated than that. The long answer was once I trusted him more than any human being on this planet. Once I trusted him with my life. But now... now I was just starting to move toward forgiveness and trust. But full trust... that was still a ways away.

  With a shrug, I smiled. “You haven’t gotten me killed... yet.”

  That disarming grin grew again and took down more of my dwindling defenses. “Then you’re in. Good. It’s a Roomster bonding day.”

  “Would you quit calling me Roomster?” I laughed as I finished my bacon.

  “Nope.” He popped the last piece in his mouth and put his dish in the sink. “I’ll clean them when we get back. Now hurry up and put on your suit.”

  “Jeez. Slow down there, Speed Racer. Just give me a few.”

  “Chop, chop,” he teased and clapped his hands as he blew by.

  After he disappeared into his bedroom, I went in the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and get ready for the day. When I was done, I grabbed my suit that had been hanging from the shower and tossed it on along with my coverup.

  When I came out, Matt leaned against the screen door, his mirrored sunglasses hiding the trouble dancing in his eyes judging by the smile playing across his face. The day-old scruff wrapping around his jaw gave him that extra edge of mischief, and I tried to force away the thoughts fighting their way to the front of my mind.

  God, he looks hot.

  Damn it. That one slipped by.

  Just friends.

  My mantra. The one I’d had to recite on occasion over the years when I’d caught those not-so-friendly thoughts slipping into the forefront of my mind. Times when I noticed just how handsome he was. When I’d notice the way his square jaw ticked as he struggled to suppress his laughter. How the tiny flecks of gold in his brown eyes sparkled in soft lights. The way his biceps flexed when he’d snag a fish and crank the reel. The times I wondered what his lips may taste like.

  Times like this one.

  Chasing the thoughts from my mind about how hot he looked in his board shorts and t-shirt that fit oh-so-well, I took a breath and grabbed my beach towel hanging from my door.

  “Ready?” he asked, pushing open the screen door.

  “I have no idea where we’re going, but I could use a beach day.”

  I grabbed my purse off the couch and headed out the door. Petunia meowed and trotted out of my bedroom, sending Matt scampering out after me, slamming the door to separate him from the cat who bid him goodbye with a hiss.

  “You still scared of her?” I snorted.

  “It hates me, Jo.”

  “She hates you. But she’ll get used to you... as long as you stop running away from her screaming like you’re starring in some B-rated horror movie and she’s an axe-wielding psychopath.”

  Shuddering, he shook his head. “If I was starring in a B-rated horror movie, I’d be the smart one. The one that lives to the end. That thing would kill me in its sleep if I didn’t push a chair in front of my door at night.”

  “Try the bacon. It worked on me.” I smiled and slid my sunglasses into place. “Where to?”

  “Come on.” Matt ushered me down the stairs and we climbed into his truck. We both rolled down our windows, and he drove down the road toward downtown Sister Bay.

  The warm summer breeze blew in through our open windows as I rode along in silence, wondering what his goofy brain had concocted today. Matt was the king of adventures, always planning something that would have my cheeks hurting by the end of the day from all the laughter. Life was filled with fun when I was at his side, and I only realized now how boring my life had been without him in it. Lonely even. With Jake and Cassie shacked up together, and me not wanting to be a third wheel, I’d spent most of my time bartending and watching Netflix. But like the breeze blowing in through my window, Matt had whooshed back into my life and shaken it up again.

  In a good way.

  “We going fishing?” I asked when he pulled up in front of the Sister Bay Marina.

  “Better.”

  “Better than fishing? That’s saying something when it comes to you.” I peeked over the top of my sunglasses.

  “Come on.”

  The excitement radiated off him and I felt it building up inside of me. What were we doing? Grabbing my purse and towel, I followed him down the sidewalk to the boat rental kiosk.

  “Hey, Ted!” Matt called, waving at Ted who was reading a book behind the little glass window.

  “Hey, Ted,” I echoed.

  “Hey, Matt. Hey, Jo.” Ted set his book down and pushed himself off the chair. “Try to have it back by five.” He tossed a set of keys out the window and Matt caught them with ease.

  “You got it, Ted. Thanks
for letting me borrow it.”

  “If you’re going to work here, you need to know the ins and outs of all the equipment. Consider it training.”

  “My kind of training! We’ll be back later.”

  Ted gave a little wave. “Have fun, kids.”

  “Thanks, Ted.”

  I walked behind him not knowing why he was thanking Ted. When we reached the dock below, a white and blue jet ski bobbed in the water and answered my question.

  “No way.” I laughed, looking over the sleek machine.

  “Yes way.” Matt looked over his shoulder and grinned. “You. Me. A whole day jet skiing around Door County.”

  “Okay... this is a pretty good idea. I seriously haven’t been on one since we were kids.”

  “We’re long overdue.”

  We reached the smaller dock the jet ski was tied to, and Matt held out his hand. “Hand me your purse and towel. I’ll put it in drybag in the cubby, so they don’t get wet.”

  After handing him my stuff, he shoved them in the waterproof bag. Nerves crackled inside my stomach, and I tried to quiet them down. Just yesterday I’d never wanted to talk to Matt again, and now I was about to spend the day in close contact with him. Very close contact.

  “One big difference this time. I’m driving.” He waggled his eyebrows, and I scoffed my response.

  “Hell no. I’m driving,” I protested, but he shook the keys in my face.

  “Not this time, Jo.”

  Before I could argue, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt, yanking it up over his head. Those tanned muscles came into view, and I swallowed. Hard.

  Shit.

  There was a reason I insisted on driving the jet ski all those years ago. The thought of wrapping my arms around the boy I’d wanted to kiss since I’d discovered kissing had been more than this girl could stand. Especially since I’d been trying to convince myself of Matt’s friend-zone status. And now that he was all grown up, so were his muscles. If I’d thought it would be difficult to suppress my attraction when I was wrapped around him back then, one look at him today had me quaking in my flip-flops.

  Just friends, just friends, just friends.

  “I think I should drive,” I said, trying to force the saliva to return to my mouth.

  “Not a chance in hell.” He shoved his t-shirt inside the bag and gestured to my turquoise coverup. “You want to wear that, or do you want it in the drybag?”

  Though I had no interest in any more skin-to-skin contact than necessary, I also didn’t want my only clothing for the day soaked if I needed to wear it later. Swallowing hard, I slowly peeled it over my head and handed it to him. His mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes, but a slight tip in his chin told me he may have just peeked at my goodies as well.

  “Cute suit,” he said, and shoved my dress into the bag.

  Cute suit. Never mind. He wasn’t eyeballing my goodies after all; he was just taking note of the army green bikini I sported.

  Doesn’t matter. Just friends.

  After a lifetime of getting good at pretending I had no feelings for Matt, Jenna’s words yesterday had reignited those emotions I’d long thought gone. Well, perhaps they’d never been totally gone, but they’d been much quieter. Maybe the time spent apart had flamed my feelings to the point of incinerating me from the inside. The year apart had amplified all those feelings, and I was out of practice at shoving them back down. What had become a quiet reflex anytime they had tried to surface before was now a struggle akin to folding up fitted sheets and getting them back into their original packaging.

  While I watched his toned, tanned muscles flex as he put our dry bag in the cubby beneath the seat, I continued my mantra and hoped soon it would burn back into my brain.

  Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

  “Life jacket. Here.” He tossed me a blue jacket and then strapped on his own. Grateful for the lessening of our upcoming close contact, I clicked on my straps and pulled them tight.

  He climbed onto the jet ski, patting the seat for me to jump on. Swallowing my groan, I climbed on behind him. The muscles in his broad back twitched while he started it up, and I glanced back at the dock wondering what excuse I could spit out for launching back onto dry land and running for my life. After a lifetime of pretending my feelings for him were nothing more than a childhood crush long passed, I hadn’t realized how easy this last year had been away from him. A whole year of not having to chant my mantra when his smile threatened to turn my world upside down.

  “Hold on, Jo. Don’t want to send you flying... although I suppose you deserve some payback.” He smiled over his shoulder.

  With a groan I didn’t bother to suppress since he couldn’t hear it over the humming of the engine, I scooted forward and wrapped my arms around his waist. Actual agony radiated from the tips of my fingers when I brushed against his skin. Why? Why couldn’t I just get rid of these feelings once and for all? I’d thought after his betrayal that finally, finally¸ I would be free of the rogue attraction to him that continued rearing its head at the most inopportune times.

  Like this one.

  But it would seem my luck in that department had all but run out.

  Matt gave the jet ski some gas, and we puttered through the marina and out past the Sister Bay beach. Children leapt off the long, concrete dock and I remembered being one of them myself once upon a time. As kids, Matt, Jake, and I had played there a number of times, and our squeals had echoed through the summer air when we’d plunged off the dock hand-in-hand. Today it wasn’t our squeals coming off the dock, but howls of joy from the children enjoying their summer vacations. The shrieks of their happiness traveled across the water and blended with the sound of our engine as Matt gave it more gas.

  “You’d better hold on tight,” he said as we made it out of the no-wake zone.

  With willpower that rivaled keeping The Incredible Hulk at bay, I bit my lip and wrapped my arms around his waist even tighter. As sensations spiraled through my body, I understood this was the reason I’d insisted on driving the jet ski all those years ago. This agony of being wrapped around him and feeling him between my thighs. Although, at Andrea’s birthday party when he’d climbed up behind me and I’d felt his grip tighten around my waist it had ended up being just a different kind of agony. But shortly into our ride he’d let go of me, scooting back as far as he could, like I repulsed him and he couldn’t stand the thought of touching me. I’d gotten pissed at the insult, and my temper had gotten the better of me, so knowing he had nothing to hold onto, I’d intentionally tossed him off that day.

  Matt gunned it and we lifted in the air, skipping across the waves cresting along the bay. As we reached our cruising speed, the jet ski settled into its plane and we zipped along the shores of Sister Bay. The breathtaking bluffs helped me focus my attention on something other than the man between my legs. Something other than the feelings that were replacing the hatred I’d felt this past year. Something other than the not-so-friendly feelings his return to my life had amplified. What had been reduced to a barely audible whisper over the years was now like having someone screaming in my ear with a megaphone.

  Instead of listening to it, I tried to drown it out.

  Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MATT

  Wow. That was a bad idea of epic proportions, I thought while I guided the jet ski between all the boats anchored around Nicolet Bay.

  I’d thought I was being so smart forcing Jo to sit behind me, ensuring I’d avoid the unfortunate incident that had happened last time we’d gone jet skiing. I’d thought I’d be safe up here and we could enjoy a nice day on the water reconnecting again. As friends.

  I’d thought wrong.

  The minute those long legs had slid against my hips I’d reverted to that fourteen-year-old boy again... and there weren’t enough baseball images in the world to push away the anything-but-platonic thoughts that invaded my mind.

  What the hell was wrong wi
th me? I’d gotten past this. I’d moved on from Jo years ago.

  Hadn’t I?

  Sure, I’d suffered an occasional flare up of feelings over the years, but for the most part I’d been successful. Okay, more than occasional flare-ups, but they were at least manageable. Today was no mild flare up. Today, the moment I felt her body wrap around mine, the closeness brought on a raging inferno. I’d spent the past thirty minutes wrestling with the fire scorching me from the inside out, but I was anything but successful in extinguishing it. I was failing. Miserably. Apparently spending a year apart had been like shoving my bottled-up feelings into the bottom of a champagne bottle and giving it a shake. Now the desperate pressure dared me to pop the cork.

  But there would be no popping of the cork and expressing my deepest desires. Not with Jo. I needed to keep those feelings contained in the bottle until they fizzled out... just like I’d done all those years ago right here on this beach after we’d played spin the bottle and it had ended in a most unfortunate kiss.

  Now here we were again, back at the scene of the crime. Back at the beach we’d come to for Andrea’s fourteenth birthday party when I’d finally given up on my unrequited love for Jo.

  When I’d spun the bottle and it had landed on Jo, every nerve in my body had twitched with excitement. Finally... finally I would get to kiss her. And when I had leaned across the circle of cheering friends and pressed my lips to hers, my world flipped upside down. After years of coveting her lips and wondering what they tasted like, I’d finally experienced a kiss with the girl who’d held my heart since we were in preschool. Pulse racing. Breath stalling in my lungs. That moment became the culmination of every fantasy I’d ever had.

  And then she’d demolished my fantasy like a wrecking ball. The moment our lips broke apart, she’d wiped her mouth, spitting into the sand with a face twisted in disgust.

  A face I’d never, ever, forget. The face that told me Jo would never see me as anything other than a friend.

  And I’d do well to remember that disgusted expression right now.

  Just friends.

  Glancing at the spot in the sand where my dreams had been dashed all those years ago during Andrea’s birthday party, I repeated the process of shoving my confusing emotions about her back into the closet I’d stored them in. We were just friends, and I needed to drill that back into my mind. Last night I’d been thrilled she’d even cracked open the door to friendship, and I wasn’t going to do anything to stretch the already frazzled tether between us.