by Addison Cole
Dean jogged up to the front porch and threw the door open. “Go on, doll. Down the hall to the left.”
“You’re my hero.” She planted a quick kiss on his cheek. She’d asked him why he called her that the first weekend they’d met, and his response had been, No reason.
He smacked her butt as she ran through the door.
“I swear I’ll pee on your floor!”
“Not the response I usually get,” he called after her. “But if that’s what you’re into…”
She couldn’t stop grinning. It was so good to see him, so good to be back near Desiree and the other friends she’d made last winter. With her bladder finally empty, she washed her hands and took a moment to check herself out in the mirror. Yup, she looked like she’d spent all day in a car. Her hair was tied in a knot and secured with a pencil she’d found in the console. Several strands had sprung free, giving her a disheveled look. She pulled out the pencil, and her hair tumbled down her back. She cupped a hand over her mouth and breathed into it.
Ugh. Coffee breath.
She opened the vanity drawer and dug around looking for toothpaste. Floss, Band-Aids, deodorant, nail clippers, beard oil, beard balm. She picked up the beard oil and opened the top to sniff it. Mm. Cedar. She read the label. Organic. Nice. Scented with peppermint, eucalyptus, and lavender essential oils. Looked like her second-bestie treated himself well. She put the cap back on and set the beard oil in the drawer, then rifled through another drawer and found toothpaste. She squeezed a bit on her finger and scrubbed her teeth clean.
“Hey, doll. You okay in there?” Dean called through the door.
She pulled it open, held up her finger to indicate one second, and gathered her hair over one shoulder as she turned the faucet on and dipped her mouth under it. She rinsed her mouth and washed her hands as he watched with a curious expression.
“That’s so much better. I borrowed your toothpaste.”
He arched a brow. “Got a date?”
“Ha! I wish.” She threw herself into his arms, hugging him so tight she could feel his heart pounding against hers. “I’m so glad to finally be here!”
“Me too.” He set her on her feet. “Sorry about the dirt. I’m sure I smell pretty ripe, too.” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m landscaping out back.”
She brushed the dirt from the front of her dress and dragged her eyes down his incredibly hot bod, wondering why he didn’t have some chick there with him. Desiree had told her that girls hit on Dean all the time. “You smell like your beard oil, which I might have snooped into.”
His eyes narrowed. “Snooped?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Of course! I needed toothpaste. Anyway, I like the way it smells, and it’s good to know you take care of yourself in ways other than just building these bad boys up.” She ran her hands over his bulbous biceps and he gritted his teeth. She laughed and patted his cheek. “You look like you want to growl at me.”
Having grown up with three older brothers, she got along better with guys than girls and had always had more guy friends than girlfriends. She’d learned at a young age that guys had a hard time holding anything back. If he wanted to growl, she’d let him growl.
“Something like that,” he said under his breath.
She followed him into the living room. “Why is your stuff in there anyway and not in the master bathroom?”
“Only one bathroom in the house.”
“Really? Why?”
“I don’t know. Why would a single guy need more than one bathroom? More importantly, I thought you weren’t coming up until next week. What happened?”
Ever since Desiree moved away and she and Dean had become friends, Emery had felt like her life was here now, too. “I felt like I was waiting for water to boil, and I was so excited to come and start my life here, and see you, Des, Vi, and Serena and everyone else, I said the heck with it!” Serena ran the administrative offices of the resort Dean co-owned with Rick and Rick’s brother, Drake. “And here I am! But with the traffic, I can’t get to Desiree’s, and she said it could be backed up for hours. Something about changeover day?”
“With only one road on and off the Cape, it’s one big traffic jam on changeover days. Saturdays are the worst, but Sundays can be a headache, too.”
“Do you know a back road to her place?”
He turned, brows knitted. “I can take you over on the Jet Ski.”
“Oh, fun!” Her excitement deflated as quickly as it had arrived. “But then I can’t bring my stuff.”
“Why don’t you hang out here and help me in my yard? We’ll throw something on the grill for dinner, and you can go over when the traffic clears.”
“You must landscape all the time. Your yard looks like it belongs in a magazine.”
“Thanks.” He shrugged and said, “Gotta do what you love, right?”
She knew that in addition to being co-owner of the resort, Dean maintained a few clients with his own landscape business—the hospital where he used to work as a trauma nurse and the local assisted living facility, where he worked in the gardens with the residents. Emery liked to tease him about his elderly fan club. Dean was great at keeping his emotions close to his chest, which made him difficult to read sometimes, but whether they were texting or talking on the phone, his passion for his work always came through loud and clear.
“Very true.” She loved what she did for a living, but lately she’d craved more than the yoga classes she’d been teaching at a gym since leaving the rehab center. She hoped one day to return to being a yoga back-care specialist and to turn her passion for yoga back care into something more meaningful. But those were plans for another time.
One major life event at a time.
To distract herself from her thoughts, she focused on Dean’s cottage. She took in the hardwood floors and wood-paneled walls that ran the length of the open living room and kitchen, which were separated only by a table for two. A black cast-iron oven and cooktop and fridge complemented earth-toned granite countertops atop rustic wood cabinets. Long, rough-hewn wooden shelves held dishes and cups, giving the place the brawny feel of a bachelor pad.
“I saw glimpses of your place when we FaceTimed and Skyped, but”—like seeing you in person again—“experiencing it firsthand has a much stronger impact. This is incredible. So earthy and rugged. I love it.” She ran her fingers over the simple oak table.
“Thanks. This is the original house built on the property. When I renovated, I wanted to preserve the rustic feel, so I used old, sun-bleached scaffold boards for the walls and floors. Check this out. It’s my favorite feature.” He went to the wall that faced the kitchen, unhooked something near the top and then near the bottom, and slid the entire wall into the living room wall, like he would a pocket door. “These are barn doors I repurposed from another property.”
At least ten or fifteen feet of wall space disappeared before her eyes, opening the small kitchen to a magnificent trellis-covered patio, with potted plants overflowing with life on top of enormous rocks, like the one Dean had been carrying when she arrived. Comfortable-looking rockers and two oversized loungers had a gorgeous view of more impeccable gardens.
“Wow, Dean. I’ve never seen anything like this.” She followed him outside, where low stone walls lined either side of the patio. A fireplace anchored one end, and she spied the telltale wooden stall of an outdoor shower just beyond. Her gaze swept along the gorgeous pavers, and she imagined how wonderful it would be to meditate there in the early mornings, when the rest of the world was asleep. She’d seen the hardscaping he’d done at the resort, but this was even more breathtaking.
They walked along a rocky path between two garden beds. She recognized some of the flowers and was happy to see roses and lavender, which she could use to steep tea. As they wound through the path surrounded by vibrant flowers, with the sun shining down on them, it felt like she’d stepped into his private paradise.
“Sort of coaxes you into thinking
about a simpler lifestyle, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“Definitely. If I lived here, I might never want to leave. But what landscaping are you doing? Everything already looks gorgeous.”
His hand pressed against her back as he guided her around a wall of bushes. She’d forgotten how often he’d done that the weekend they’d met, and how nice it felt. Most guys just said they’d show her something and expected her to follow. Her burly buddy might look standoffish to some, but he was the most gentlemanly guy she knew.
“Thank you for letting me use your bathroom and hang out for a while.” She put her arms around his waist and hugged him. His entire body felt like one giant muscle. His hand moved up her back, returning the embrace. It wasn’t the rushed embrace of a man looking to get lucky—which she was all too familiar with. It was a gentle yet powerful loving embrace that spoke volumes about their close friendship, and it made her feel like she’d come home instead of having left it all behind.
“Anytime, doll,” he said. “And if it’ll earn me hugs, then use my bathroom as often as you’d like.”
They walked around more garden beds, and nestled between a rock garden and a grassy area with lounge chairs and a small table, there was a patch of tilled earth with all sorts of weeds growing around the edges.
“This is my latest project.” The edges of his lips tipped up. “Are you in? Or do you want to sit in traffic?”
“Heck, yes, I’m in. But I warn you, I have a black thumb. I can kill a plant just by looking at it.”
He laughed. “I highly doubt that. I’ll go grab another trowel and a couple of cold drinks. Be right back.”
Helping weed his garden was the least she could do. After all, he was the one who’d convinced her to give this move a go. During one of the many nights when they were FaceTiming, she’d mentioned that she was thinking about coming up for the summer to see if she could get a seasonal yoga business off the ground, hoping it would not only be a nice change of pace for her, but that it would also bring added value to the inn for Desiree and Violet’s customers. Dean had asked, How can you succeed at anything, giving only half an effort? She’d seen it as a huge step, moving away for the summer, not half an effort, but then he’d followed that question with one that had stopped her in her tracks. Are you always afraid to commit, or are you worried you’ll miss your family? And she’d found herself retracing the last few years of her life and realizing that maybe, just maybe, he’d figured out what she never had. And the more she’d thought about it, the more convinced she’d become that she had been the adventurous one, but only within the safety of her small hometown. It was time to blaze a new adventure and blow that girl out of the water.
She heard a phone ring in the house, jarring her from her memories. Shrugging off those thoughts, she set to work ripping out the weeds.
To continue reading, please buy Sweet Passions at Bayside
The Sweet with Heat: Bayside Summers series is just one of the subseries in the Sweet with Heat big-family romance collection. You may enjoy starting with Read, Write, Love at Seaside, the first book in the Sweet with Heat: Seaside Summers series (free in digital format at the time of this publication). All Sweet with Heat books may be enjoyed as stand-alone novels, so jump in anytime! Characters from each subseries make appearances in future books so you never miss an engagement, wedding, or birth.
Not all future releases will have preorders. Please be sure to sign up for Addison’s newsletter and follow her on Facebook so you don’t miss them.
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More Books By The Author
Sweet with Heat: Seaside Summers
Read, Write, Love at Seaside
Dreaming at Seaside
Hearts at Seaside
Sunsets at Seaside
Secrets at Seaside
Nights at Seaside
Seized by Love at Seaside
Embraced at Seaside
Lovers at Seaside
Whispers at Seaside
Sweet with Heat: Bayside Summers
(Includes future publications)
Sweet Love at Bayside
Sweet Passions at Bayside
Sweet Heat at Bayside
Sweet Escape at Bayside
Stand Alone Women’s Fiction Novels
by Melissa Foster (Addison Cole’s steamy alter ego)
The following titles may include some harsh language
Chasing Amanda (mystery/suspense)
Come Back to Me (mystery/suspense)
Have No Shame (historical fiction/romance)
Megan’s Way (literary fiction)
Traces of Kara (psychological thriller)
Where Petals Fall (suspense)
Acknowledgments
Every time I start writing a new series, I fall in love with the writing process all over again. Creating another fictional world on Cape Cod has been such a joy! I hope you enjoyed meeting Rick, Desiree, and all their fun friends and family. I can’t wait to bring you the rest of the Sweet with Heat: Bayside Summers love stories.
Heaps of gratitude goes out to Lisa Bardonski for our fun chats about Rick and Desiree. As always, I am indebted to my meticulous and talented editorial team. Thank you, Kristen, Penina, Juliette, Marlene, Lynn, Justinn, and Elaini for all you do for me and for our readers.
As always, I am grateful to my family for allowing me the time to slip away and create my fictional worlds.
Addison Cole is the sweet alter ego of New York Times and USA Today bestselling and award-winning author Melissa Foster. Addison enjoys writing humorous, and deeply emotional, contemporary romance without explicit sex scenes or harsh language. Addison spends her summers on Cape Cod, where she dreams up wonderful love stories in her house overlooking Cape Cod Bay.
Visit Addison on her website or chat with her on social media. Addison enjoys discussing her books with book clubs and reader groups and welcomes an invitation to your event.
Addison’s books are available in paperback, digital, and audio formats.
www.AddisonCole.com
www.facebook.com/AddisonColeAuthor
