Surrender (Seaside Pictures Book 4)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I cursed under my breath. “Well, that’s a damn shame, isn’t it? That you didn’t even think twice about a man being a man or being a gentleman. It has everything to do with me wanting to treat you nicely. I know you can open your own door. I’m one-hundred-percent aware that women are equal and often times smarter than men if we’re being honest, but the real shame here is that it appears to me like you’ve never had a man who went the extra mile and treated you with the respect and care you deserve. So, Bronte, I’m going to open your door. I’m going to open a lot of fucking doors because that’s the sort of treatment a queen deserves. Got it?”

  She was completely still and then a slow nod of her head.

  “Good.” I lifted her chin toward me, so tempted to kiss those plump lips. I dropped my hand before temptation gave in to surrender and slowly closed her car door, counting my steps to the driver’s side, waiting for my lust to cool and my anger to abate, because what the hell?

  She was quiet when we got on the road toward the main route out of town. That brought us right by the boardwalk, and it was already getting dark, which meant lots of kids were out getting ready for bonfires.

  She let out a sigh and then pointed. “I’d always wondered what all the fuss was about. I mean, it’s a campfire, but it looks fun. I just never got the chance to do it.”

  I nearly slammed on my brakes.

  Instead, I pulled over and put the car in park. “You’ve never done a campout?”

  “No?” She scrunched up her nose. “I mean, my friends in school did, but I was pregnant by then and responsibilities and…” Her voice trailed off.

  “If you had the chance to stay at a ritzy hotel and go to the spa versus a chance to do a fun campout with junk food, a sexy rockstar, and nothing but the stars, ocean, and said rockstar’s guitar, what would you pick?” I gave a nonchalant shrug. “Asking for a friend…”

  Her lips pressed together in a smile, and then she laughed to herself. “Ah, do I know this friend?”

  “He’s devastatingly handsome.”

  “And talented?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Huh, doesn’t ring a bell.”

  I smirked. “Pity.”

  “Isn’t it, though?”

  “Answer the question, Bronte,” I urged softly.

  She squirmed a bit in her seat then stared at the beach. “I’d probably want the campout, especially since this rockstar’s so talented and hot. Maybe he’ll show up.”

  “He just might.” I wasn’t even mad that I was about to cancel my plans, but that did mean I needed to improvise. Thankfully, I always kept a blanket in the back, and all the stores on the boardwalk carried everything I needed for the perfect bonfire. “All right, change of plans. We need to go shopping first, and then we get to take turns digging a small hole for the fire.”

  “Wait, why do we have to take turns?” She laughed.

  “Do you see these hands?” I held out my hands to her. “Insured for ten million.”

  She gasped. “What!? That’s insane!”

  “I know. I lied. I just wanted to see your face.” Laughter erupted from deep in my chest, and it felt so insanely good to just let go. “And the real reason we both take turns— you know, other than teaching you teamwork—”

  She snorted.

  “—is because a little workout before a campout helps get your blood flowing.”

  Her green eyes narrowed. “And I need that, why?”

  I let my eyes rake her over before answering. “You’ll see. Hurry up! We’ve got places to be!”

  Her giggle made my night as we walked toward the closest store, and when I grabbed her hand…

  She squeezed mine right back.

  And didn’t let go.

  CHAPTER 6

  Bronte

  His personality was so dang addicting that it was hard to even have a normal conversation without my heart beating out of my chest or laughter bubbling out of my mouth.

  “All right, let’s split up!” He turned me toward the food aisles and handed me a basket. “Go grab the chocolate, grahams, marshmallows, and any other food you want, and Bronte?”

  I looked into his blue eyes.

  “I like to eat.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. Why did that feel like a double entendre?

  “Tell me your favorites, and I’ll grab them.” My voice cracked. Great, he can read me like a book, can’t he?

  The corners of his luscious mouth lifted into a smile. Damn, this man was breathtakingly beautiful, like a fallen angel with too much charisma and the inability to stop talking for more than three seconds. “You on the menu?”

  “Cute, but no.” I waited for any more instructions.

  “Well, we’re doing a campfire…” He rebounded fast. “…so why don’t you grab some hotdogs and buns, and we’ll roast those. I’ll go grab some sticks, matches, wood…” He gave my hair a playful tug. “…you know, man things.”

  I rolled my eyes. “All right, tough guy, meet back here in ten?”

  “Done.” He was already turning around, ready to go do some “man” hunting.

  I would never admit it out loud, but I needed that little respite to just breathe and try to focus on something other than all the things that encompassed Drew.

  He was magnetic in a way that was hard to even explain, and yet, certain times, he seemed to almost go to another place, only to come back with something quick-witted — a joke, or a flirtatious smile. I’d noticed it the few times I’d interacted with him, but now that I’d had more time with him, I really saw it.

  He did a good job hiding it from the world.

  And part of me wished he wouldn’t hide it from me.

  I didn’t need his words, his flirtations. I would take his silence any day, I would take him just existing, not performing or trying to impress, not that he was trying to do that with me, but just at times when he felt terrified that if he stopped…

  Everything would crash.

  I shook my head and went over to the bread, grabbed a package of hotdog buns, then went down the next aisle to grab supplies for s’mores.

  I figured we only needed one package of hot dogs and decided just to get ketchup, mustard, and relish.

  By the time I was finished tossing in a few random items, Drew was already back at our spot on his phone.

  I was about to tap him on the shoulder when I saw his shoulders tense. “I don’t care what you need,” he hissed. “I’m busy writing the album. I don’t have time to come back to LA, and even if I did, why the hell would I come back for you?”

  I flinched. I’d never heard him talk like that before.

  “Look, Skye…” He hung his head. “…can we not right now? I’m in the middle of something, and talking to you always makes me remember all the reasons I left LA in the first place.”

  Dread settled in my stomach, and then I told myself not to be stupid. Did I really think he was going to just woo me for a week and stay? Offer to be Braden, Sarah, and Amelia’s stepdad? I almost laughed aloud. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. He promised fun, he promised kissing, he promised he’d help me get my groove back, whatever that meant.

  He never promised himself.

  Or his heart.

  And in that moment, I swore to myself I wouldn’t fall. I wouldn’t be the starry-eyed teenager who had fallen head-over-heels for my ex at fifteen and said yes to unprotected sex because it “felt” better to him.

  Stupid, so stupid. I wouldn’t ever be stupid again, and I knew my heart wouldn’t handle being broken by someone like Drew, someone who so easily could steal it away when I was least expecting it.

  Besides, I had Amelia to think about — worry about We had results that could mean more chemo or freedom, depending on which way they swayed. I didn’t have the emotional energy to waste on Drew. I didn’t have space in my head, let alone my heart.

  So why did it still make me physically flinch?

  “Later.” He hung up the phone, did a little circle
, and then eyed me, his smile slow, a bit tentative. “You ready?”

  “Yup.” I forced a bright smile and lifted my heavy basket. “Things okay?”

  He cursed under his breath and took my load, his eyebrows furrowed together, giving him a heavy look that had me stressed out on his behalf.

  “Yeah, let’s just say LA is the absolute worst, the people are fake, and any sort of unnecessary contact puts me in a bad mood. Not your fault. It’s my baggage.”

  “Baggage?” I asked as we both started putting our supplies on the belt.

  He reached inside the basket, froze, and then slowly continued pulling things out. “That’s probably the wrong word. Not really baggage — more like my own stupid mistakes have a way of constantly haunting me, this time by way of a woman. I’ve literally had to change my number five times because of her.”

  I winced. I couldn’t even imagine that level of fame, and I saw my fair share with Braden. The only reason I’d even agreed to let him take that first trip to LA was because of Drew. Ugh, why did it always come back to Drew? “That bad?”

  He let out a heavy sigh that I felt in my soul. “That bad.”

  “Sorry.” I don’t know why it, but I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and it was like all the tension that was in his body just dissipated.

  It was what I did when Amelia was worried.

  It was what I’d done for years when Braden doubted himself.

  It was my go-to, to imagine myself pulling all that sadness and anger into my soul and letting my heart hurt, so the person I love doesn’t.

  Not that I loved Drew.

  He locked eyes with me. “Thanks.”

  “Any time.” I almost did the most idiotic thing and said, “That’s what moms are for!”

  Kill me now. I looked down to keep from showing my embarrassment and laughed when I saw half the store’s goods on the belt, thankful for the distraction. “Um, do we really need all of this?”

  He’d grabbed a tent, a blanket, sticks, firewood, fire starter, matches — the list went on and on as if he’d either never done a campout or was afraid that we would somehow do it wrong.

  “Absolutely.” He flashed a toothy grin, and before I knew what was happening, he was sliding a black AmEx card through the machine, and I was helping him carry the bags back to the car.

  “This is a lot for just one campout,” I teased.

  “Just one campout?” he repeated. “What if I want more than one?”

  “We may just have to have more than one with all this stuff.” I laughed.

  “Exactly.” He winked, sending my stomach flutter into overdrive. “I think we can actually keep the car parked here, so why don’t you hand me some of those bags, and pick a spot on the beach.”

  I turned toward the huge shoreline that was Seaside, Oregon, with its crystal white sand and blue ocean. It was absolutely gorgeous outside, not raining, which was a miracle, and there were only a few campfires dotted around the two-mile coast.

  Giddiness built up inside as I kicked off my flat sandals, tucked them in my tote, and started hiking through the deep, still-warm sand.

  Typically, Amelia and her friends stayed closer to where the beach house was, so I decided to walk in the opposite direction, away from the huge swing set in front of the aquarium and near one of the larger of the bluffs.

  I stopped on the other side since I knew the wind picked up later. This would, at least, offer us some protection when it did.

  “Ah, she picks the best spot on the beach. I’m impressed.” Drew’s deep voice sounded behind me as he set everything on the sand and then went to work digging through one of the first bags, only to come back with a can of wine. “Shhh.” His smile was dangerous. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  I laughed and held out my hands to catch it. “Really? Wine in a can?”

  “It’s totally a thing now. Trust me, I know all the cool trends. I’m famous like that.” He tossed it to me. “And it’s a red since someone doesn’t like white.”

  I caught it midair. “What about you?”

  “Me? Oh, I have some impromptu date prepping to do, so let me make you a spot where you can watch me work. Oh and—” He held up another finger, dug around, and then tossed me a historical romance novel and two fashion magazines.

  I almost died laughing. “Seriously?”

  “—just in case you get bored watching me.”

  “You’ve thought of everything,” I said softly, not admitting that watching him was anything but boring, more like consuming to the point of stalking.

  “I try,” he said with his back to me. “Give me around ten minutes, and I’ll have things ready to go. Don’t forget you have to help with the campfire hole.”

  “How could I? When I’m looking so forward to digging.”

  “Yeah, I have a lot of experience with digging myself into holes,” he said, more to himself. But then he snapped out of it and winked. “You good? Need anything else? Oh, final thing, I swear.” He pulled out a patchwork quilt that looked older than dirt and brought it over to me, wrapping it around my body tight.

  It might look old, but it smelled like a mixture of fresh detergent and Drew.

  I was tempted to steal it later.

  Maybe sleep in it naked or just ask to be buried in it.

  “I like this blanket.” I hugged it tighter around my body.

  Drew’s eyes flashed with an emotion so deep that I almost apologized. “Yeah, my grandma actually made it for me when I went off to my first tour.”

  My heart melted. Did he have to be so easy to like? “That had to be the best gift you were ever given.”

  His face softened as his voice cracked out. “It was.”

  “Are you two close?”

  A sad smile was his response. “She died later that year. Cancer.”

  “Oh, Drew.” My hand moved to his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, well…” With a half-shrug, he pulled away and dusted the sand off his jeans. “…I try to think about the fact that she never got to see me go down all the dark roads she warned me about, so her death was a blessing. She would have done more than make me dig holes in the back yard. She would have been… disappointed.”

  “You don’t know that,” I whispered. “And we all make mistakes.”

  He winced. “Yeah… but some of us… don’t exactly recover from them.” He turned around. “All right, no more sad talk. I have a tent to build.”

  “Ever build a tent?” I went with his change of subject.

  “Of course, I was a Boy Scout!” he said defensively.

  I eyed him up and down with amusement. “I can’t see it.”

  “Watch and learn, baby girl, watch and learn.”

  My heart pumped way too fast at the cute nickname, damn it. Why was it so impossible not to fall a little bit more each time he opened his mouth?

  Weirdly enough, the should-be-spoiled rockstar moved fast. He had the cute blue tent set up in no time. I grinned when he grabbed the shovel and motioned me with his pointer finger.

  I looked behind me in mock confusion. “Oh, you mean me?”

  “Yes, you.” He laughed and handed me the shovel. “You start.”

  “What if I do it wrong?”

  “Doubt you do much of anything wrong.” His expression sobered, and I immediately wanted to list all of my sins, so he knew I wasn’t perfect. But it wouldn’t matter if I did because Drew seemed like the sort of guy who was convinced that nobody could be as bad or have as much darkness as he.

  It was sad compared to me. I had stolen a candy bar once and had unprotected sex.

  He’d probably laugh at the fact that I’d never once smoked pot, or smoked anything, that my only vice was bad TV and a glass of wine, or maybe two if it was a special occasion.

  “I wonder,” he whispered, his intense gaze studying my face, “what goes through that head sometimes.”

  We are too close.

  That was what was going through my
head.

  The fact that I could see the specks of light blue in his eyes and smell his skin.

  I quickly handed him my wine can and then gave him my back and burrowed the shovel into the sand. I dug around until I had a good circle shape and was about to turn around and give him the tool again when I felt both of his hands on my hips, pulling me back against him.

  I nearly dropped the shovel in shock at feeling the heat of his body encompass mine from all sides.

  He wasn’t just tall; he made me feel small in his arms. He smelled so good I wanted to cry. How was that even physically possible? Was there some secret rockstar cologne they handed out once you had millions of albums sold?

  Like “Here, congratulations! You’ve finally hit Sex God status. Wear this cologne wisely!”

  He rested his chin on my head as his arms slid around the front of mine, and then he slowly turned me toward the shoreline. The sun had painted the sky in streaks of purples, pinks and oranges as it slid toward the ocean. I’d never paid much attention to sunsets, but the combination of brilliant color in the sky above and intoxicating male behind was showing me what I’d been missing. His body was hot against mine.

  “Thought you might want a minute after digging so hard.”

  With the sun setting, it should have been growing cooler, right? But here I was, my entire body on fire. “Are you mocking my hyperfocus?” I asked, unable to keep the wobble out of my voice.

  Pressed against my back, his chest rumbled with a laugh. “No, actually, you just looked so damn cute and were concentrating so hard that I felt guilty for staring at your ass and decided, rather than staring, I was going to do something about it.”

  I frowned. “And what did you do?”

  “I’m doing it now,” he rasped, his lips next to my left ear. “I’m holding you and watching the sunset.”

  Stiffening, I swallowed hard. “Oh.”

  “Don’t get tense.” He continued his assault on my senses as his lips roamed down my neck. “I just want you to enjoy yourself. No pressure. I’m not going to suddenly strip you naked against the sand and propose, all right?”