Dreaming at Seaside (Sweet with Heat: Seaside Summers Book 2)

by Addison Cole

  Her eyes widened.

  “I don’t ever want to be not-a-husband with you. I want the real deal. You in a white dress, me in a monkey suit. I want you to have the wedding you secretly dreamed of.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. “How do you know I’ve dreamed of anything like that?”

  He touched her dress. “Anyone who kept a dress like this, dreams of a real wedding. Please don’t make me wait any longer for an answer.”

  “Yes, Caden. I want to be your real wife, and never, ever be your not-a-wife.”

  Please enjoy a preview of the next Sweet with Heat novel

  Hearts at Seaside

  Chapter One

  THERE SHOULD BE a rule about drooling over construction workers, but Jenna Ward was sure glad there wasn’t. She sat on the porch of the Bookstore Restaurant, soaking up the deliciousness of the three bronzed males clad in nothing more than jeans and glistening muscles that flexed and bulged like an offering to the gods as they forced thick, sticky tar into submission. Their jeans hung low on strong hips, gripping their powerful thighs like second skins and ending in scuffed and tarred work boots. What red-blooded woman didn’t get worked up over a gorgeous shirtless man in work boots?

  Heaven help her, because she needed this distraction to take away her desire for Peter Lacroux, which went hand in hand with summers on the Cape and consumed her in the nine months they were apart. She zeroed in on one particularly handsome blond construction worker. His hair was nearly white, his jaw square and manly. She wanted to march right out to the middle of the road that split the earth between the restaurant and the beach and be manhandled into submission. Right there on the tar. Wrestled and groped until all thoughts of Pete evaporated.

  “Wipe the drool from your chin, chica.” Amy Maples handed Jenna a margarita and, pointedly, a fresh napkin, as she settled into the chair across from her. “Good grief, woman. What’s up with you this summer? I swear you’re in heat. I can practically smell your pheromones from over here.”

  Jenna gulped her drink and righted her red bikini top, which was trying its hardest to relieve itself of her enormous breasts. Even her bikini top was ready for a man. A real man. A man who craved her as much as she craved him.

  Jenna reluctantly turned away from Testosterone Road and faced her best friends. The women she had spent her summers with here in Wellfleet, Massachusetts, for as long as she could remember and the women she hoped would help her through her most important summer ever.

  Okay, she’d self-defined it as such, and it was probably a poor excuse for most important, but that’s how it felt. Huge. Momentous. Gargantuan. Great. Now she was thinking about other huge things…

  “You’ve been here for a week, and you still haven’t told us why you’re all claws and hormones. Want to clue us in, or are we supposed to guess?” Bella Abbascia was a brazen blonde—and she, like Leanna Bray, the disorganized brunette of their bestie clan—had already found her true love. A feat Jenna only dreamed of. Ached for might be more accurate, and Bella was right; it was time to come clean.

  Jenna downed the last of her drink and slapped her palms on the table.

  “I don’t care what it takes; this is my summer. I’m done pussyfooting around. I want a man. A real man.” She slid her eyes to the construction workers again. Yum! She tried to convince herself to feel something more for the construction worker, but the only person her mind found yummy was Pete—and it didn’t seem to want to make room for others.

  She wasn’t above faking it to pull herself through the charade. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could talk herself into believing it.

  “So, you’re going after Pete?” Leanna sipped her margarita and arched a brow. “How is that any different than every single one of the last five summers?”

  “Oh no. Peter Lacroux can kiss my big, sexy butt.”

  “Jenna!” Amy’s eyes widened. The sweetest of the group, she was perfectly petite, with kindness that sailed from her green eyes like a summer breeze.

  “You do have a mighty fine butt, Jen,” Bella said. “But you’ve had a wicked crush on that man forever. If you’re going to focus your attention on someone—” Bella bit her lower lip and shook her head as one of the construction workers wiped sweat from his brow, pecs in full, drool-inciting view. Bella raked her eyes down his sculpted abs. “Um…Okay, yeah. They’re pretty hot. But why throw Pete away?”

  Jenna had been over this in her mind a hundred times. She locked her eyes on her glass and exhaled. “Because I’m not going to spend another summer chasing a man who doesn’t want me. And this is a tough summer for me. I have to break up with my mother, and that’s enough heartache for a few short weeks.”

  “Break up with your mom? Can a person do that?” Amy glanced around the table.

  “I gather she’s not taking your dad getting remarried well?” Leanna asked. “I had such high hopes when she didn’t fall apart during the divorce.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “So did I. You’d think that two years after her divorce, she’d be able to sort of compartmentalize it all, but, girls, you have no idea.” Jenna shook her head and held up her glass, indicating to the bartender that she needed another drink. She could have gotten up and retrieved the drink herself, but Jenna wanted the diversion of the sexy waiter who would deliver it to their table. She’d take as many diversions as she could get to keep from thinking of Pete.

  “She’s gone…hmm…how do I say this respectfully? She’s not gone cougar, but she’s definitely acting different. She’s dressing way too young for a fifty-seven-year-old woman, and I swear she thinks she’s my new best friend. She wants to talk about guys and sex, and what’s worse is that she suddenly wants to go dancing and to bars. I love my mom, but I don’t need to go to bars with her, and talking about sex with her? Please.”

  “I was wondering what was going on when she texted you a hundred times last night.” Bella pulled her hair back and secured it with an elastic band. “She’s going through a hard time, Jenna. Give her a break. She was married for thirty-four years. That’s a long time. I’m not even married to Caden yet, and if we broke up and he married a younger chick, I’d be devastated.” Bella and Caden met last year when Bella had been busy rearranging her own life. She’d started a work-study program for the local school district, fallen in love with Caden Grant, a cop on the Cape, and now she was as close as a mother to his almost sixteen-year-old son, Evan. The Cape was a narrow stretch of land between the bay and the ocean. Bella and Caden lived on the bay side in a house that Caden had owned when they’d met, and they would be staying at Bella’s Seaside cottage on and off this summer.

  “I get it, okay? I just…it’s just so hard to see her struggling with her looks, and honestly, you know I adore her, but she’s sort of making a fool of herself. It’s been two years since the divorce. She just needs to get over it and move on. I do feel bad because I had to take a firm stand and tell her that I wasn’t going to come home until after the summer.”

  “Why do you feel bad? That’s what you do every summer.” Amy eyed one of the construction workers, a water bottle held above his mouth, a stream of wetness disappearing down his throat. “Holy hotness.” She fanned herself with her napkin.

  Jenna watched the guy wipe his mouth with his heavily muscled forearm. “Yeah, but she wanted me to come home to hang out with her a few times.” The sexy waiter brought Jenna her drink.

  “Thank you, doll.” She watched his fine butt as he walked away.

  “Doll?” Amy giggled.

  “See?” Jenna bonked her forehead on the table. “That’s her word. Doll? Who says that? You have to help me. She’ll ruin me, and I swear if I spend one more summer lusting after Pete, then I’ll be empty on all accounts. My mother will hate me, my hoo-ha will be lonely, and I’ll use words like doll. Come on, do us all a favor and shoot me now.”

  “Yeah, well, about that whole Pete thing?” Leanna nodded toward the crosswalk, where Pete Lacroux was crossing the road carrying
the cutest puppy.

  Holy mother of hotness, he is fine. I want to be that puppy. Those construction workers couldn’t hold a candle to Pete, and Jenna’s body was proof as her pulse quickened and her mouth went dry. His shoulders were twice as broad as those of the boys on the pavement, his waist was trim and he shifted the pup to the side, giving Jenna a clear view of the pronounced muscles that blazed a path south from his abs and disappeared into his snug jeans. Those muscles turned her mind to mush. Yup. She’d gone as dumb as a doorknob.

  “Breathe, Jenna,” Amy whispered. “You are so not over him.”

  Jenna couldn’t tear her eyes from him. Years of lust and anticipation brewed deep in her belly. Just one more summer? One more try?

  No. No. I can’t do this anymore. “The man’s one big tease. I’m moving on.” She forced herself to tear her eyes away from him and guzzle her drink.

  And then it happened.

  She felt his presence behind her before he ever said a word. Jenna, the woman who could talk to anyone, anytime, had spent years fumbling for words and making atrocious attempts at flirting with the six-foot-two, dark-haired, mysterious specimen that was Peter Lacroux, but despite catching a few heated glances from him, she remained in the friend zone.

  Regardless of how her body reacted to him, she didn’t need to beg for a man she could barely talk to, or follow after him like that adorable puppy snuggled against his powerful chest.

  She was totally, utterly, done with him.

  Maybe.

  PETE EYED THE women from the Seaside cottage community, or the Seaside girls, as he’d come to refer to them, on his way across the street. They hadn’t spotted him watching them as they ogled the young construction workers from the patio of the Bookstore Restaurant. Pete had done the community and pool maintenance for the cottages at Seaside for about six years. He was a boat restorer by trade, but when he’d begun working at Seaside, his career hadn’t yet taken off. By the time word got around that he was an exceptional craftsman, he was too loyal of a man to stop doing the maintenance work. Besides, the girls were fun, and he’d become friends with the guys in the community, Tony Black, a professional surfer and motivational speaker, and Jamie Reed, who’d developed OneClick, a search engine second only to Google. And then there was Jenna Ward, the buxom brunette with the killer butt, a cackle of a laugh, and the most intense, alluring blue eyes he’d ever seen.

  Frigging Jenna.

  He watched her eyes shift to him as he neared the restaurant. Other than his craftsman skills, reading women was Pete’s next best finely honed ability—or so he thought. He could tell when a woman was into him, or when she was toying with the idea of being into him, but Jenna Ward? Jenna confused the heck out of him. She was confident and funny, smart, and too cute for her own good when she was around her friends. Just watching Jenna sent fire through his veins, but when it came to Pete, Jenna lost all that gumption, and she turned into a…Heck, he didn’t know what happened to her. She grew quiet and tentative when she was near him. Pete liked confident women. A lily to look at and a tigress in the bedroom. His mouth quirked up at the thought. He wasn’t a Neanderthal. He respected women, but he also knew what he liked. He wanted to devour and be devoured—and with Jenna, who swallowed her confidence around him, he feared his sexual appetite would scare her off. Besides, with his alcoholic father to care for, he didn’t have time for a relationship.

  Jenna turned away as he stepped behind her. Her hair was longer this summer, framing her face in rich chocolate waves that fell past her shoulders. Pete preferred long hair. There was nothing like the feeling of burying his hands in a woman’s hair and giving it a gentle tug when she was just about to come apart beneath him.

  He held Joey, the female golden retriever he’d rescued a few weeks earlier, in one arm, placed his other hand on the back of Jenna’s chair, and inhaled deeply. Jenna smelled like no other woman he’d ever known, a tantalizing combination of sweet and spicy. Her scent, and the view of her cleavage from above, pushed all of his sexual buttons, despite her tentative nature around him. But he had no endgame with Jenna Ward. No matter how much he wanted to explore the white-hot attraction he felt toward her, he respected Jenna and treasured her friendship too much to take her for a test ride.

  “Hello, ladies.”

  “Aww. Can I hold her?” Amy jumped to her feet and took the puppy from his hands. Joey covered her face with kisses.

  “She’s a little shy,” Pete teased. He’d found the pup in a duffel bag by a dumpster behind Mac’s Seafood, down at the Wellfleet Pier. The poor thing was hungry and scared, but other than that, she wasn’t too bad off. The first night Pete had her, the pup had slept curled up against Pete’s chest, and they’d been constant companions ever since.

  “Yeah, real shy. How’s she doing?” Leanna asked.

  “She’s great. She sticks to me like glue.” He shrugged. “I was just coming over to get her a bowl of fresh water, maybe a hamburger.”

  “Hamburger?” Leanna wrinkled her thinly manicured brow. “How about puppy food?”

  “Puppies love burgers.” Chicks were so weird with their rules about proper foods. He glanced down at Jenna, whose eyes were locked on the table. She usually went ape over puppies, and he wondered what was up with her cool demeanor.

  “Want to join us for a drink?” Bella slid a slanty-eyed look in Jenna’s direction.

  He felt Jenna bristle at the offer. He should probably walk away and give her some breathing room. She obviously wasn’t herself today. He was just about to leave when Amy grabbed his arm and pulled him down to the chair beside Jenna. Great. Now Jenna had a death stare locked on Amy. Pete was beginning to take her standoffishness personally.

  “Sit for a while. I want to play with Joey anyway.” When Amy met Jenna’s heated stare, she rolled her eyes and kissed Joey’s head.

  “How’s the boat coming along?” Leanna Bray was a quirky woman, too. Her cottage had always been a mess before she met her fiancé, Kurt Remington. Every time Pete had gone by to fix a broken cabinet or a faucet, she’d had laundry piles everywhere, and sticky goo from her jam making seemed to cover every surface, including herself. Almost all of her clothing had conspicuous stains in various shades of red, purple, and orange. Kurt was as neat and organized as Jenna. He’d taken over the laundry and didn’t seem to mind picking up after Leanna. In any case, her place was much more organized these days.

  “She’s coming along.” Pete had been refinishing a custom-built 1966 thirty-four-foot gaff-rigged wooden schooner for the past two summers. Working with his hands was not only his passion, but it was also cathartic. He’d spent the last two years pouring the guilt over his father’s drinking into refitting the boat.

  “What will you do with it when you’re done?” Amy Maples looked like the girl next door, with her sandy blond hair and big green eyes, and acted like a mother hen, always worrying about her friends.

  Pete shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll sail someplace far, far away.” He’d never leave his father, or the Cape, but there were days…

  That brought Jenna’s eyes to him. She had the most gorgeous eyes. They weren’t sea blue or sky blue or even midnight blue. They were more of a cerulean frost, and at the moment, pointedly icy. What on earth did I do? He racked his brain, going over the last two weeks, but he hadn’t seen Jenna for more than a minute or two. He couldn’t imagine what he’d done to warrant her attitude.

  Jenna raised her eyebrows in Amy’s direction. “Time for me to go away.” She rose to her feet, bringing her red-string-bikini-clad body into full view. The tiny triangles barely covered her and the bottom rode high on her hips, exposing every luscious curve.

  Pete shot a look around the patio—every male eye was locked on Jenna. Jenna wasn’t even five feet tall, but she had a better body than any long-legged model. How the heck can a woman have a body like that and not be one hundred percent confident at all times? He stifled the urge to stand between her and the ogling men.
>
  “Where are you going?” Bella’s eyes bounced between Pete and Jenna.

  “I’m going to do what I came here to do. There’s a construction guy with my name on him over there.” Jenna lifted her chin toward the sky, and her pigeon-toed feet carried her fine body off the patio, across the grass, and directly toward one of the young construction workers.

  “What’s she doing?” Pete narrowed his eyes as Jenna approached a ripped construction worker. He expected Jenna to put her hands behind her back and sway from side to side like she did when she spoke to him—reminiscent of an excited girl rather than a sensual woman—adorable and totally confusing.

  “Oh. My. Gosh.” Bella rose to her feet, her eyes wide.

  “Nothing, Pete. She’s…” Amy put Joey in Pete’s lap. “Take her. I…um.” Amy reached for Bella’s hand as they gawked, mesmerized by Jenna’s bold move.

  Her shoulders were drawn back, her beautiful breasts on display—proudly on display! What the…? She put one hand on her hip, and wow, Pete didn’t need to see her face to feel the slow drag of her eyes down that jerk’s body in a way similar to how she usually looked at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. But then she’d go all nervous when he’d approach.

  What the heck?

  “Holy mackerel. She’s going for it.” Bella sat back down, as Jenna put her finger in the waistband of the guy’s jeans and shrugged. “She’s something this summer, isn’t she?”

  Jealousy clutched Pete’s gut.

  “Yes, and this summer’s rock fixation? What’s up with pitch-black rocks? She’s never collected them before.” Amy’s voice trailed off as she watched Jenna in action.

  Pete made a mental note of the rocks Jenna was collecting this summer. He’d spent five years taking mental notes about Jenna. Every summer she collected different types of rocks—egg shaped, heart shaped, all white, gray, oval… There was never any rhyme or reason that Pete could see for her rock selection, but she knew what she liked, and the ones she liked ended up all over her cottage and deck.