“Wanna…come up?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
No freaking way was she coming up right then. She’d been at work all day, and then she’d just walked down the salty beach. No doubt that she stunk. And she would not be having him all up in her stanky business.
She wiggled away from him. “I thought we were getting some exercise.”
He let his head drop back with lazy eyes. “Really?”
She took his hand. “Sure. We live on the beach, Dane.” She motioned broadly with her arm. “The Gulf of Mexico is our playground.”
He followed her toward the ocean. “Then let’s play.”
Oh, crap. What kind of trouble was she getting herself into? “Define play,” she said.
He scooped her up into his arms, honeymoon-style, and twirled the two of them around in a circle, her squealing in delight like a ridiculous rom com cliché—the obligatory montage scene where the characters were still in that pre-love, hazy phase where they couldn’t get enough of one another. Except for she and Dane were nowhere near that phase yet. Where were Bobbie and Fiona? They belonged in one another’s arms. Not Marigold.
He came to a stop, staring at her in that I’m so going to kiss you right now way, which of course, she had to blow up immediately. She flung her head back. “Okay, I get the picture.” She squirmed, her signal for him to put her down, and he obliged. She stumbled away from him. “You should be embarrassed.” She motioned to all the condos behind them. “You live here.”
“Yeah, but none of the people here do. They’re all renting. A new crop of renters will be here next week.”
She made her way to the shore, him in tow. “You’re supposed to be an astute businessman. Show some decorum, please.” She tried to hide her smile, but she could feel it coming through.
He held his hands up high as their feet penetrated the cold water. “I promise not to touch you again.”
She cut her eyes at him as she drew in the wet sand with her foot. “Well, let’s not get crazy.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a complex woman?”
“Ha! That’s a nice way of putting it.”
He just smiled, staring out at the ocean, his hands pocketed. She’d gone and scared him off. She had the feeling it’d be up to her to make any further moves. That’s what she got for not letting him kiss her. It was just that kisses led to other stuff, and she wasn’t currently ready for other stuff—not without a shower, and even then, she still didn’t know.
“So, last night went okay? After I left?” She knew she shouldn’t have asked, but she couldn’t help herself.
He let out a hard breath through his nose. “Yeah, as good as could be expected.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I imagine you didn’t expect it to go well.”
He shrugged wordlessly while they both studied the ocean.
“I saw her, you know,” she said, looking at him for his reaction.
He nodded. “I heard.”
“I was expecting a blonde. Where do the boys get that blond hair?”
“Their dad’s blond. I saw a picture once. Can we not—”
“Sorry,” she said.
He shook his head. “No, you have every right to be curious about all of it since you got unwillingly thrust into the situation. I’m sure that was weird. It’s certainly weird for me.”
She touched his arm. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I know you love those boys. It can’t have been easy to say goodbye again.”
He gave her a closed-mouth smile. “Thanks. I just hope she doesn’t do that again.”
She stilled. “So you think she will?”
He let out a hard breath. “I don’t know. I threatened to call the cops if she did.”
“And are you prepared to move forward with that if it happens again?”
He hesitated for way too long, mouth open, looking for an answer.
She nodded. “I see.”
“I don’t know. It’s just so fucking complicated.”
She winced at the hurt in his eyes. “Come here,” she said, bringing him into her arms. As she held him there on the beach, his inner turmoil over this situation seemed to permeate out of him.
This was all wrong on so many levels, and she was not helping him with her back and forth. He needed a friend right now to get him through this, not the waffling tease of a girl she had been being.
He pulled away first. “Thanks.” His hands slid down to her hips, making her insides go mushy. “I know this is really bad timing. I can’t believe all this is happening now, just as I’ve met you.”
“I know.” She thought about Malcolm and the email or phone call that was destined to drop into her phone at any time now. “I’ve got some weird stuff going on, too.”
He looked concerned. “Weird stuff?”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. Not nearly as weird as your stuff. Just something unpleasant I’m going to have to deal with.”
“Something or someone?”
She inhaled a deep breath, knowing she wasn’t ready to talk to Dane about Malcolm. For sure not now while he was dealing with all of this. She pulled his hands off her hips, squeezed them, and then let them go. “I’ve got a proposal for you.”
“Okay,” he said with caution.
“We’ve both got a lot on our plate right now. What would you think about calling what’s going on here a…friendship?”
“Oh!” he shouted, hands clutching his chest like he’d been shot. “The ‘F’ bomb.”
She shoved him. “I’m serious. I’m sort of a mess right now, well…always, but you’re kind of a mess, too, and I think if we tossed sex into this blender, it might explode,” she said as she poked him in the chest, “and not in a good way.”
He grinned. “I’m totally good with being your fff…your fff…I can’t say it.”
She stood there smiling at him, head dropped to the side. “Dane.”
“No, seriously. Let’s do it. Let’s be friends.”
She nodded. “Good,” she said. But what she hoped would be a sense of relief was overcome by a stabbing pain of want. It would subside with time, surely.
He jabbed a thumb at his apartment. “We’ve still got the rest of the movie to watch.”
She scratched her cheek, deciding whether or not she could trust herself.
He held up both hands. “I swear, Marigold, I’m not going to touch you. I like this idea, a lot. I could really use a friend right now.”
“You could?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Ethan’s way too close to the situation for advice, and Jesse’s good to talk to but impossible to pull away from the bar.”
“Are those your only friends?”
“Close friends, yeah, pretty much.”
“What about Chase?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know Chase all that well.” He squinted at her. “Wanna go finish the movie?”
“I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Do you have popcorn?”
“I have a boatload of it. Don’t ever buy from a Boy Scout unless you’ve got a lot of cabinet space.”
“How much did you buy?”
He looked guilty. “A lot.”
She smiled, realizing he’d probably bought it from the boys to help support them. But every time she thought of him and them, a prick of unease got her. She definitely needed to keep this thing in the friend zone. She scrunched up her face. “I’m kind of gross. I mean, I’ve been at work all day, and then I’ve been out here walking.”
He waved a hand in front of his nose. “I knew something out here stunk.”
She shoved him, hard, then shoved him again, then played punching bag on him as he tried to combat her, laughing too hard to defend himself properly.
15
Fucking friends. Dane didn’t want to be Marigold’s friend. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, sitting at the other end of the couch, bowl of popcorn in her lap, feet tucked in beside her watching Robert Pattinson sparkle.
She wasn’t wrong about wanting this friend label on their relationship. With last night’s fiasco, the last thing he needed was to start another relationship, dragging her into his drama. But he couldn’t help himself. He just wanted her so goddamned badly. Her sitting there in those knee-length, skin-tight workout pants and that tank top was more than he could handle. He’d almost asked her if she wanted a blanket a few times, but he didn’t want to block the view.
She shuddered a little, and he caved. “Are you cold?”
“Hmm?” she asked, eyes wide. God he wanted to kiss her. “Oh, no. Well, maybe a little.”
“You want a blanket? Or a hoodie?”
Her eyes got big. “Can I have a hoodie?”
He was unable to contain his smile around her. “Sure thing.” He went and found one in his closet and brought it to her. She slid it on over her tank top, the thing swallowing her whole. But she couldn’t have looked hotter in it.
She cozied back into her spot on the couch, her toes digging in between the cushions. She’d borrowed a pair of his socks, and her little feet were so cute in his big white socks, so in contrast with her stylish workout clothes. Why couldn’t they just be past this irritating, uncertain part of their relationship and to the part where they were sharing that bowl of popcorn, her snuggled up to him.
He remembered why. Erin. He started paying for that relationship the day she stepped into his life, and he realized now that he may never quit paying.
But it wasn’t just Erin. Marigold had mentioned that she was going through something. Weird stuff, to be exact, and she’d ignored him when he’d asked if it was a something or someone. So it was probably a guy. He should have known. How arrogant was he to think a girl like this was truly single, no matter how self-deprecating she was.
The ringer on her phone went off—a call, not a text. She picked it up and then stilled, closing her eyes like she’d just gotten news of the death of a loved one. He was pretty sure she mouthed the word fuck.
“Take that if you need to,” he said.
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I’ll pause it.”
“No, don’t pause it.” She stood, bringing the phone to her ear.
“You can talk in my bedroom.”
She nodded at him and then said, “Hey,” with tempered enthusiasm, and then the door shut behind her.
He would not listen in. He paused the movie though, so she wouldn’t miss it. The silence left her voice muffled, but understandable. Put it on SportsCenter, he told himself. But he was too curious to be good.
“Great. No, that’s awesome. I appreciate you taking a look.” She paused. “Oh, wow, I didn’t realize you’d be coming so soon. Is Heather coming with you?” Another pause. “Oh, well, that’s too bad. I’d like to meet her.” Pause. “Yeah, definitely. I’ll pick a good local restaurant for us to meet, so you can get a taste of 30A. Listen, I’m at someone’s house, so I can’t really talk, but I’ll see you Friday, okay?”
He flipped the TV onto SportsCenter to mask his eavesdropping around the time she opened the door and came into the room, looking deflated. “Everything okay?” he asked.
She waved him off. “It’s fine. Just a minor annoyance.” She nodded at the TV. “As you were.”
He turned the movie back on, but she didn’t seem nearly as focused on it as she had been. He wanted to talk to her about whoever that was on the phone, but he didn’t want to overstep. She lifted her hand to her mouth and ran her knuckle along her lips, making him wonder if she was a nail biter trying to resist.
He nudged her in the leg. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Hmm?” she asked, looking up at him, and then let out a sigh once she met his gaze. She shook her head. “It’s nothing, really, I promise. Just someone I’ve got to work with that I’d really rather not.”
He nodded, wishing he could get more out of her, but she clearly wasn’t ready.
She smiled. “Thank you for being so concerned. But I’m a big girl, and I got this. Now hush up before you make me miss the fight scene.” She tossed a piece of popcorn at him and then put her attention back on the movie.
He settled back in, trying to watch the movie but barely able to keep his eyes off her.
16
Marigold followed a hostess to the rooftop bar of one of her favorite 30A restaurants, wishing she was coming to this place she loved with friends or, really, with Dane. They’d been texting one another all week—all silly memes and jokes, one night staying up until one in the morning texting. It was like the introduction of the friend word had loosened everything. The pressure between them had subsided. A little innuendo had snuck into their texts, of course, but it had remained natural and fun the entire time.
But instead of it being Dane she was meeting, it was Malcolm who awaited her. He wasn’t that bad. He was just…too much. Too clingy. Too subservient to her father. Too always available for her. So available that she’d screwed up and slept with him a few years back.
That had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. The whole night had left her feeling icky and ashamed of herself. She’d been transported right back to her college years where she’d sought solace in him after that cursed night…except the solace never came.
The hostess grinned at her and then motioned. “I believe this is your party?”
Marigold stumbled to a halt when she set her gaze on Malcolm sitting at a table with her mother, her father, Camellia, and her brother-in-law Pete. They finally took note of her, and then her dad grinned from ear to ear. “Surprise!”
Marigold stood there stunned, wondering why someone hadn’t made teleportation a thing yet. “What are you all doing here?”
Everyone stood for hugs, and she made her way around. “It was a last-minute decision,” her mother said. “We missed you.”
Marigold gave her sister a look that asked for the real story. “We also wanted to see the land.”
“Ah,” Marigold said, appreciating Camellia’s honesty. It did come in handy from time to time.
It was Malcolm’s turn for a hug. “Hello, Marigold,” he said in that slightly condescending tone of his. Nothing overt, but just enough to irritate her.
They all took their seats as Marigold realized the one designated for her was between Malcolm and her father. Perfect. She hesitated to sit. “Um, actually, I was planning to just have a drink with Malcolm. I’m going to a barbecue after this.”
“Sweetie, we’re here,” her mother said, guilt in full swing.
“If I had known I wouldn’t have committed.”
“The party can’t go on without you?” Camellia asked. There was that sisterly backup Marigold treasured.
This was so typical of her family. They wanted to surprise her. Marigold was calling bullshit. They were assuming that she would dump any plans she had the second she laid eyes on all of them. It wasn’t a fun surprise. It was a sabotage.
Marigold rubbed her forehead, eyes closed, and Malcolm said, “Let’s just do drinks and appetizers with Marigold and then let her slip away to her party. Sound good?”
Her father mumbled something as he looked at his menu, and then everyone else followed suit. Marigold met Malcolm’s gaze. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He gave her a smile that lingered a bit too long for her liking. “Sure.”
She cleared her throat. “So, where’s Heather?”
“She couldn’t make it. She’s a kindergarten teacher, and they don’t get a lot of days off. She’s saving hers for the wedding.”
“Congratulations on that, by the way,” Marigold said.
Camellia set her menu down. “We love Heather. She’s precious.”
Marigold couldn’t be sure, but she thought she m
ight sense a challenge in her sister’s tone. “That’s fantastic,” Marigold said, wishing she hadn’t sounded so enthusiastic. She was overdoing it. This is what her family did to her. They made her overthink everything. “So how long are you all in town?”
“Just till tomorrow morning,” her mother said. “We thought about heading back this evening but David has friends at Eglin Air Force Base. He’s with them now. I’m sure he says hello.”
David, her family’s long-time personal pilot, was nothing if not formal and stoic. Marigold was certain he didn’t say hello.
“I’m here for a few extra days, looking into some things for the possibility of this new hotel,” Malcolm said.
Marigold nodded, wishing for some reason that he was headed back with the rest of them tomorrow. “So when are you all going to view the land?”
“Did it already…just before we came here,” her father said.
She wasn’t sure why she was shocked by this. “I would have gone with you if you’d have called.”
“You had the shop to tend to, right?” Camellia asked, definitely a challenge.
“I can flip the sign to closed when I need to.”
Her dad waved her off. “You’ve already seen it, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, but…” She would have liked to have imagined the space with him there, heard the insider info that was no doubt exchanged between them all when they were there.
“We can go back with you tomorrow morning if you like?” her mother asked.
Marigold closed her eyes and scratched her eyelid. “No, it’s…fine. What did you all think?”
“Great location,” her father said. “We debated whether we made the bid aggressive enough, but I think it’s pretty solid as is.”
“Me, too,” Malcolm said, always the suck-up.
The server came over and her dad ordered on behalf of the table—several appetizers and two bottles of wine. Marigold cut her eyes at Malcolm and he just responded with an irritating smile. They were supposed to be talking business tonight. They were going to go over her plans for the store. But now with everyone here, that was out of the picture. She wasn’t about to make a public presentation, not without notice.
WATERCOLOR WISHES: Love Along Hwy 30A, Book Four Page 14
