Sex on the Beach (Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin)

by Delphine Dryden

  Because she had to know he valued her opinions and thoughts. She had to know he valued her. And, more complicated, know that he considered her when she wasn’t there, knew she might have an opinion that didn’t instantly align with his, and that was okay. Things didn’t have to go his way, or her way. They had a way, secret option C, and together they could find it.

  It would be challenging, though, because, boy howdy, did the girl have some issues. She called them daddy issues, but to him it seemed more like borderline abuse. She’d had to grow up unsure of what the next day would bring, had to learn early on that a friend today might be a fading spot in the rearview tomorrow and there was nothing she could do about that. And she’d had to learn it over and over, not because of deployments or transfers but because her father had practically gotten himself run out of every town they’d lived in until she moved to California. He probably gambled, and certainly broke leases and employment contracts, and ruined his family’s life chasing after...what? A quick buck? A few months of freedom from debt collectors?

  Anger surged as fresh and brutal as it had the night before. Jeremy wanted to fly home with Amanda just so he could punch her father’s fucking lights out. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t that guy, he didn’t do that sort of thing. But he wanted to, and he suspected it would be a good long time before he felt otherwise. How dare that guy? He’d had a beautiful, charming, brilliant wife—whose subsequent success in finance suggested that they’d only managed as well as they did for so long because she took careful steps to mitigate the damage her husband was doing. And Amanda, brilliant as well, and she should have been able to walk into any school at any age and know that if nothing else was true, at least she was her daddy’s goddamn special perfect princess.

  They were so strong, these two women. Stronger than life had ever required him to be. He had suspected it before, but he knew it now, and he felt unworthy. He did. With a solid business, doing good works in the community, a homeowner before he was thirty, and everything else he had going for him. Unworthy of them. So how the hell did her dad excuse what he’d done? How could he have failed to see the undeserved fortune in front of him?

  Amanda stirred, and he realized he’d not only spooned her, he’d been clutching her to his chest. When he loosened his grip, she patted his arm then felt her way up to his shoulder muscles. “You were growling just now, did you know? And you’re all tense. Jeremy, are you still thinking about beating up my dad? You need to let that go, sweetie.”

  He growled again, intentionally this time, and fastened his teeth very gently on her shoulder, pretend-chomping the tender flesh.

  “Oh, I see. You’ve just turned into a werewolf. I hope you’re the sexy kind, not the scary kind. And that your wolf form is actually a wolf, not some stupid wolf-man thing. Anyway, carry on.”

  Stifling a laugh, he latched on to her neck instead, sucking the skin hard enough that he probably left a mark. He sort of hoped he did.

  “Aw, no vampires. Vampires are so passé. Now it’s all about kinky billionaire playboys. Don’t you read?”

  “Not about kinky billionaire playboys.”

  “Fair enough.” She twisted around enough to grace him with a swift kiss, then flopped back down. “Good morning.”

  “It is a good morning. I have a plan. Do you want to hear it?”

  “Does it have something to do with whatever’s going on with your right hand? Because if so, I think I already figured it out. I think there’s room for growth and change in your plan. We should discuss.”

  But that was as far as the plan proceeded. A knock on the door sent Jeremy running for a robe, and Amanda wiggling deep under the covers, until the only thing showing was her adorable face and that shock of crazy blond bedhead.

  It was Alan, and he was really lucky that Jeremy had already spent time that morning reminding himself he wasn’t the type of guy to go around punching other guys in the face.

  “This is some horrible timing, man. I mean, sorry, TMI, whatever. But really. Horrible.” The robe did precious little to hide Jeremy’s boner, which was also TMI. But Alan had to take what he could get, considering he’d showed up unannounced before breakfast.

  “I’m sorry. Really. Thank you for letting me in. But I need...Amanda. Hi, Amanda!” He waved, and she snuck one hand out from under the covers to respond.

  “Hi. This is unexpected. And weird.”

  “I waited until nine.” He shrugged, looking mortified but determined. “Julie’s on a horseback-riding thing, and I only have until she gets back, so time was of the essence.”

  “I’m ordering room service.” Jeremy strode to the bathroom and snatched the other robe off its hook, tossing it across the bed for Amanda on his way to the cordless room phone. He pulled it from the cradle and kept right on walking. “From on the patio. With Alan. Feel free to shower first, babe. You want a freedom omelet, extra suffrage on the side, and real cream for your coffee, right?”

  “Yeppers.”

  “Cool. Be right back.”

  “But I kind of came to talk to—”

  “Patio.” Jeremy stalked past Alan and grabbed his shirt, pulling him along until they were free of the door. The blinds were still drawn, so Amanda should have enough privacy to make the dash to the bathroom he was sure she intended. “You can talk over breakfast. I’m not letting my girl go until she’s clean and fed.”

  “Uh. Is she a racehorse now, or is there some kinky thing going on I don’t want to know about?”

  Drawing a deep breath and releasing it, Jeremy rephrased, “Clean, fed, happy, and not mortified as hell that her friend’s fuckbuddy is standing in the room where she is lying in a bed naked because we were just discussing plans for the day that involved being naked in a bed and did not include you.” He stopped short of whipping his robe open to illustrate his point with an angry erection. It was going down now, anyway, saving its energy for another time. “She’s pretty modest. Deal with it.”

  “I apologize.” Alan stood there, eyes cast down, looking for all the world like a whipped puppy. He might as well have rolled over on his back and displayed his throat.

  As a lifelong geek, Jeremy had never had the full alpha-male experience before, but he realized he was bulked up enough now that Alan might actually fear him. Literally, physically fear him. Jeremy suddenly understood both the terrible appeal and the danger of being the biggest and strongest. Even if, in this case, it was only because the guy on the other side of the equation was a medium-size desk jockey who liked weekend sports but never actually worked out.

  Testosterone. I has it.

  And it sort of scared him. His trainer had warned him, but until now he hadn’t grokked it.

  “No big deal.”

  He forced himself off that edge, trying to be conscious of the clean, damp ocean air as he breathed it in and breathed the bad vibes out. He ordered up breakfast, then went back to breathing mindfully until he felt like pure crunchy granola and world peace inside. He wasn’t a native Californian for nothing, after all.

  “So why are you here, anyway?” he asked Alan when he felt he was centered enough to proceed.

  Alan cleared his throat. “I wanted to buy Julie some flowers, and I thought Amanda could help?”

  Are you asking me or telling me? “And this required an early-morning visit because...?”

  Alan flicked his phone on and flashed it at Jeremy, reminding him of the time. Not that early, except when factoring in the high likelihood of hangovers and/or vacation sex.

  “I mean a lot of flowers. Like...a roomful. I want to turn the room into a flower jungle. That type of thing.”

  “A flower jungle.”

  “Yeah.” Alan seemed a little belligerent.

  “Right on.”

  “It’s a grand gesture.”

  Jeremy sat on the chair opposite Alan, t
ucking the robe in so he didn’t flash the guy. “You have to be careful with those, man. They do not work out like you expect them to.”

  A pained expression crossed Alan’s face. “I...already paid for the flowers.”

  Dude, you are fucked. “Well, okay then. Jungle room. How is Amanda supposed to help? Isn’t it pretty much just...open room, insert flowers?”

  “Well, there’s placement. I have no idea if it looks good or not, but Julie would know. And Amanda will know. So that will help. And also I’m not sure if Jules is allergic to anything, and Amanda’s been her best friend since third grade, so she’ll probably know. I considered calling her parents to ask, but if I call and then she shoots me down—”

  “Yeah, that’s a bad idea. Good that you didn’t do that.”

  The guy looked kind of forlorn, and from Jeremy’s current lofty position of having figured out at least a small portion of his shit last night, he felt charitable. “Okay, you can borrow Amanda. But only for a few hours.”

  “Thanks?”

  “It’s...that’s a statement. Your voice should go down at the end. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “No, I was trying to—”

  “Dude, I’m fucking with you. Lighten up.”

  Right. “You’re not getting any of this breakfast.”

  He pretended not to notice later when Alan absconded with a croissant and a cup of coffee. And Amanda. But he was reasonably confident he would get her back within a few hours. And without a scratch on her.

  “I’m not a car, Jeremy.”

  “I thought you were a racehorse,” Alan said cheerfully.

  “I’m gonna take a quick shower, then I’ll just come find you, okay?”

  “I think that would be best,” Amanda said demurely.

  He had really been geared up before Alan came knocking, and Amanda pulled the demure thing off so well. Sexy librarian was also another masterful piece in her repertoire, of course. And once, for Halloween, she’d played a hot anime schoolgirl. Even thinking about it made him feel like a bad person. He wondered if she still had that little plaid skirt, or the white cotton panties she’d worn underneath, with the tiny pink bow in front. They’d seemed so plain and innocent until he realized how sheer they were, and...

  The shower wasn’t that quick, after all. Afterward he downed the last of the coffee and meandered toward the main hotel, in no particular hurry. Amanda had texted and warned that the jungle-room project was going to take some time, but they were gone from the florist’s by the time he got there. So was a fair amount of the stock. The woman behind the counter wore a cat-in-cream smile, and he could only guess at the amount she’d just pocketed.

  “Good morning! You never picked up your bouquet!”

  He’d forgotten all about it. It seemed a lifetime ago that he’d stood here, stressing about whether to add the vagina-looking flowers. As if any of that would have mattered. They’d been charged to his room, anyway. A sunk cost.

  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  “Are you looking for your friends? They’re in the room, working on the surprise already. So did you want to go ahead and take the bouquet now? It’s still in the cooler, I was planning to call and ask if you’d like it delivered somewhere.”

  No grand gestures. “I don’t need it, thanks. But if there’s anybody honeymooning, could you just send it to their room? Not somebody in one of the big suites, just somebody in a regular room who wouldn’t be expecting it?”

  “I’ll talk to the concierge and see what we can do. That’s very generous of you, sir. I hope it’s not...well, sad news?”

  She thought he’d been shot down before he ever got a chance to present the flowers. “Not at all! No, it’s actually great news. But it turned out I didn’t need flowers to make it work.”

  The woman chuckled. She didn’t seem much older than Jeremy, but she looked as if she’d seen it all, every intersection of romance and flowers. Probably she had, considering where she worked. “I can’t really approve of that, for obvious reasons. But congratulations anyway.”

  Would Amanda want the bouquet? Maybe after spending all morning arranging flowers for somebody else, she’d be pleased to have some for herself. But again, the grand-gesture problem. “Say, do you have anything...plain? Like a simple kind of flower?”

  “Simple? Like a rosebud, maybe, or a single orchid?”

  “No, that’s too much. Not too much money, too much flower.” He scanned the glass-doored cooler, looking at all the buckets full of blossoms. Alan hadn’t taken them all. There were plenty of roses left, some things that looked like carnations, a few things he couldn’t even begin to identify, and one bin full of blooms that seemed completely out of place in such an exotic locale. “A daisy. Can I get one of those?”

  “Just one, by the stem? I’m not even sure what I’d charge you for it. We don’t usually—oh, what the hell. Sure.” She slid the door open and retrieved a single white daisy, poking its stem into a plastic water vial and wrapping it carefully in green paper before presenting it to him.

  “Thanks, that’s perfect. What do I owe you?” She probably thinks I’m nuts.

  “On the house. And yeah, it really is kind of perfect. I’d wish you good luck, but I doubt you need it.”

  Single scrawny daisy, the flower choice of the hopeless romantic looking to make the ungrandest of gestures. She’d seen this before, too, Jeremy suspected, but he didn’t care.

  He considered swinging by the girls’ room to observe the jungleizing process, but decided against it and took his daisy back to his own cottage, where the housekeeper was just finishing. The breakfast stuff was already gone, the bed made, towels replaced. For a moment he panicked, seeing no trace of Amanda. Then he spotted her suitcase behind his, solid and reassuring. She would be back.

  For how long, though? And what about after the trip? Jeremy flopped onto the patio chair—their chair—and pondered the possibilities.

  He’d offered to move his company, and in the moment he’d said it, he was serious. But the more he considered it, the more the idea tied his stomach in knots. It had been a great year, but that was no guarantee of future success. It would be all too easy to fuck everything up, to end up like most of the start-ups out there. His team was small, he relied heavily on individuals with unique skill sets, and there were a few of them he knew wouldn’t consider moving to California. They had families, kids in school, partners with jobs in Seattle, mortgages or leases.

  He’d offered to try, thinking that was what Amanda needed to hear, not knowing that the very idea of uprooting those folks must have been painful for her to hear. Given what he knew now, he was ashamed he’d even voiced the possibility. And grateful she had given him another chance, even after he’d threatened to repeat her dad’s pattern on a grander scale.

  If he couldn’t move everybody, though, and Amanda wanted to stay in San Jose, what were their options? Was there a city with an airport somewhere midway, with cheap commuter flights? Could he maybe fly down to San Jose every weekend? How long could he keep that up before something got in the way, a work commitment or a social obligation or just not feeling like getting on a plane every Friday night? He knew people who’d tried to make arrangements like that work, but none of them had been successful in the long haul.

  If only he hadn’t been so dead set on Seattle in the first place. But at the time it had seemed like the culmination of plans he’d spent years working to achieve. It had never occurred to him that Amanda wasn’t on board, and by the time he really wrapped his mind around what a mistake he’d made, momentum had already carried him through the breakup, the move, and the first several months of nonstop work to get the company rolling.

  Strong as the temptation was to get out his tablet, start writing down all the alternatives he could think up, he resisted. Instead, h
e picked up the daisy and unwrapped it, venturing into his room only long enough to throw away the paper and the fancy water thing. All of that was nice but beside the point.

  He wouldn’t write down his ideas. He definitely wouldn’t make a spreadsheet weighing pros and cons and then present the whole thing to Amanda, as much as he wanted to. Any plan would be one they made together. If he wanted to be with her, he couldn’t do this by himself. That was the whole thing.

  Almost the whole thing. He made one more quick trip to the room, then returned to the lanai to wait for Amanda.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It had taken half the morning, but Amanda finally convinced Alan they’d done enough to the room. She had to force herself to walk instead of run to get back to Jeremy’s cottage. Playing it cool was difficult, because two hours had been far too long to spend away from him.

  He was on the patio when she came through the break in the bushes. He looked very James Bond-y again, all rugged masculinity and pensiveness as he stared out at the ocean.

  When he spotted her, he grinned, breaking the illusion. Geeky, smart, adorable Jeremy again. Her Jeremy again, possibly. They might actually be engaged again, now that she thought of it. She supposed that remained to be seen, but the idea that it might not be so made her stomach clench up. She tabled the thought, focusing on how good he looked and the knowledge that they had the rest of this day to spend together. Looking further ahead wasn’t helpful right now.

  “Room all done?”

  Nodding, she kissed him quickly but took the chair next to his, not trusting herself to behave if she shared that lounger with him right now. “It’s very Where the Wild Things Are. Only, you know, romantic.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “Lunch? Dinner? Maybe a surfing lesson in between? I don’t know. It’s the last day, we should make it count.”

  She hoped that hadn’t sounded as wistful as it felt.