Love on Beach Avenue

by Probst, Jennifer

His gaze flicked over her body with a lazy assessment, as if he were bored by her outburst. “I tried calling and texting first. You chose to ignore me, even though I’m your client just as much as my sister.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re just the ManOH.” She practically spat out the words. “Ally’s happy with our current arrangement; I haven’t gotten any complaints from her.”

  “Yet. Let me make things crystal clear so there are no longer any misunderstandings.” He sipped his coffee and took his time. “I spoke with Ally before she left and confirmed I’d be involved with every step of this process. I’m her only family, so you’re stuck with me. I will attend every vendor appointment from now on. And if you somehow forget to include me, this time I’ll be sure to jump on the phone and tell Ally you’re cutting me out on purpose. I’ve been kind enough to spare you the discomfort of a confrontation in order to protect my sister, but if it continues, I won’t be as forgiving.”

  She gasped. He wouldn’t dare. He’d never deliberately stress out his sister. Would he? Or maybe he’d grab the opportunity to once again prove she was lousy at her job and that he’d been right about her all along. Was he that mean and twisted?

  Yeah. He was.

  Her quick afternoon at the bakery suddenly took a bad turn. She thought of all the appointments she had lined up the next two weeks for Ally’s wedding and wanted to weep. This was her fault. She’d been so sure he’d just go away if she ignored him. She should have known Carter had too big of an ego to leave her alone. Somehow they’d gotten into a weird competition over Ally’s wedding, and he viewed it as a challenge. Ridiculous.

  She needed to regather control and create a plan B. Maybe if she ran him ragged, he’d get tired of the endless choices over minute details. It happened to grooms and FOBs all the time. They’d be enthusiastic about the decor in the beginning, until they needed to view dozens of centerpieces, discussing the benefits and disadvantages of lilies versus roses, white versus pink, and tall vases versus small bowls. Give the men one or two of those appointments and they’d beg off the rest, deciding to trust the bride and the planner, and go play some golf.

  Yes, Carter would be the same exact way. Eventually, he’d retreat and she could finish planning this wedding on her own.

  “Fine,” she said. “You win. I won’t ditch you anymore.”

  “Such lofty standards you have,” he drawled.

  She gritted her teeth. “We need to be at the bakery at three. I’ll text my sisters to see when they’re coming back for Zoe. For now, feel free to finish your coffee and relax in the conference room.”

  “I feel so pampered.”

  His dry wit threatened a laugh from her, but she managed to squash it in time. After a few texts to her sisters, she checked on Zoe and gathered up her stack of folders, slipping it into a sleek black bag with the Sunshine Bridal logo.

  After what felt like an eternity, Bella flew through the front door and collapsed on the couch, sweat dampening her forehead. “Oh my God, what a nightmare.”

  “What happened? Is everything okay?”

  “The sitter got sick, so I had to move some of my appointments, but then I got a crazy text from Samantha at Vera’s. She had a meltdown and refused to come out of the dressing room because the MOG called her fat in a roundabout way.”

  Avery covered her mouth with her fingers. “No. You should have called me.”

  “You were slammed with appointments this morning, so I didn’t want to bother you.”

  Avery shook her head. Her sister hated leaning on anyone for help, determined to handle her own clients. “Next time bother me,” she said.

  Bella waved a hand in the air. “It all worked out fine. I rushed over there and managed to get Samantha to let me in the dressing room, coaxed her into a different dress, and when she came out, everyone burst into tears and called her the most beautiful bride in the world. Holy shit.”

  “Mama, Aunt TT said you’re gonna get the soap!”

  Avery watched her sister’s face fall into pure joy as she picked up Zoe and gave her a snuggle. Her vibrating tension calmed. Honestly, Bella rarely got worked up over a client disaster. Avery wondered if she was feeling a bit overwhelmed and made a mental note to try and check in with her more. “You’re right, no dessert for me tonight. Did you have fun with Carter?”

  “Oh yes, we read Fancy Nancy and talked about cake.”

  “Perfect.” Her sister’s eyes sparked with mischief. “Did Aunt Avery have fun with Carter?”

  Avery sucked in a breath and glared. “Not funny,” she muttered. “Why on earth would you leave her with him? I told you he was difficult and a PITA.”

  “And here I thought you were beginning to like me. Why am I thinking, in this case, a PITA isn’t the term used for a sandwich?”

  Avery closed her eyes in horror. The man was always lurking or stalking or eavesdropping. Anyone else would have stayed in the damn conference room, but here he was again, prowling around and getting in her business.

  Bella actually laughed. “’Cause it’s not, but if I tell you, I’ll need to invest in more soap. Thanks again for helping me out.”

  “Carter, I like you lots. Why don’t you like him, Aunt Avery?” Zoe asked.

  Her heart stuttered at the adorable face staring back at her with a worried look. Even at five, Zoe was kind to everyone and hated when any child was left out. Swallowing back her frustration, she gave her niece a smile. “I like Carter just fine.”

  “Oh, good. He’s not getting married, Mama. You think he can be my dad?”

  Silence fell.

  Besides being kind, Zoe was also brutally truthful about not having a father.

  Avery waited for the shocked look on Carter’s face and the endless questions, but he surprised her by taking the announcement with ease. “How about we be friends? I’m staying in Cape May the whole summer. If it’s okay with your mom, we can spend more time together. Unless you think I’m too old.” He pulled a face and Zoe laughed.

  The tension in the room dissipated, and her sister managed a grateful smile. “Sounds good to me. What do you think, Zoe?” Bella asked.

  “I can take you to the beach and show you how to build castles,” the little girl announced.

  “Deal.”

  “Well, I better get this little munchkin home. I’ll call you later, Avery. Thanks again, Carter.” Bella disappeared with her daughter and left them alone.

  The air shifted, and the sudden silence pressed down upon them.

  Avery dared a glance from under her lashes. He was staring at her hard, as if trying to figure something out. For some reason, the intense blue of his eyes mixed with the clean scent of his skin made her a tiny bit woozy. He smelled like soap and man and ocean-salt breeze. This close, she noticed that the scruff hugging his chiseled jaw emphasized the full curve of his bottom lip.

  “What’s PITA mean, Avery?” His voice deepened, silky and low with a touch of gravel.

  A shiver shook through her. She wrapped her arms in front of her chest and tipped her chin up. He still towered over her. “Pain in the Ass.”

  She waited for the sarcasm, but he surprised her again by laughing. “Of course it does.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Are we ready for the cake tasting?” he asked.

  She blinked like she’d been taken off guard. “Oh. Yes. Let’s go.” Grabbing her stuff, she led him out and toward her car. “It’s a few blocks—do you want to walk or ride?”

  “I don’t mind the walk as long as you don’t.” He glanced at her teetering strappy sandals. “How do you even navigate the sidewalks in those? It’s like someone who was permanently off-balance paved them.”

  She smiled. “It’s always been that way here. You get used to it.”

  He plucked her heavy bag from her shoulder and transferred it to his, ignoring her protests. “Was growing up in a beach town as idyllic as it sounds?”

  “Pretty much. The locals are close-knit and take care of one anothe
r through winter. The tourists can drive us nuts, but they also bring in the business we all need. My family has been here through two generations, so the ocean is part of our blood.”

  She’d rarely talked about her family’s business or beach home years ago. Curiosity stirred. “Why did you go to college in DC?” he asked. “It’s a contradiction to how you grew up.”

  She tilted her head and gave him a knowing glance. “That’s exactly why. I wanted a city where I could be in the middle of it all. I craved fast-paced, loud, dirty, surrounded by passionate people proclaiming their opinions. My parents fought me, but I was eighteen, and all I wanted was to be different. I didn’t know if I wanted to go back to my childhood home and run the family business.”

  Jagged misfit pieces clicked into place. She’d been running away. Afraid of getting stuck in a small ocean town, doing the same job for years on end out of responsibility. No wonder she’d embraced DC and all her wildness. He let the silence settle between them, but it was comfortable, as if she’d accepted that he was analyzing her response.

  She spoke suddenly. “Ally and I talked about running off and starting our own business.”

  He snapped his fingers. “I remember. A bookstore with an attached café, right?”

  “Yep. We wanted to serve organic foods, handmade chocolates, and sell primarily romance novels and poetry.”

  He groaned. “I almost had a heart attack. You both had no business plan and no money. You also couldn’t cook and had no clue about location. Ally and I got into a big fight over it.”

  “Oh, she had a few choice words to use about you,” she said, laughing. “We swore we’d open the business ourselves, become successful, and prove you wrong. We called it the Broken Cupid.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Yep. We imagined poetry readings with broody, talented artists filling the spaces. Reading and discussing great literature and drinking the espressos we made at our café.”

  “You’re killing me here. Dare I ask what finally destroyed this great vision?”

  “I’m not sure. We both got jobs to begin saving, and planned to get a business loan. But then Ally began dating that guy Ben, and got caught up in her romance. I came home for a visit, and my mother begged me to give the bridal business a try before I went back to DC. By the time I spoke with Ally about it, she’d already decided to get her master’s. Soon, we’d completely forgotten about the Broken Cupid and were swept into our adult lives.”

  Was that a hint of longing laced in her voice or his imagination? She seemed completely focused and happy with her job, but he’d noticed her crazed schedule and workaholic ways. Was she wishing sometimes for something else? Something . . . bigger? “Do you regret going home and not giving it a shot?”

  She seemed to think about the question seriously before answering. “No. Even though I was a different person then, I still believe I was always meant to do this. I get a joy and satisfaction from my job I couldn’t imagine anywhere else. I just regret . . . Never mind.”

  He stopped walking and turned. Her gaze lifted and crashed into his. His breath tightened in his chest at the look in those hazel eyes. An intense hunger seemed to spark from a place deep inside him, a place he knew too well. His voice deepened, urging her to spill her truth. “What do you regret, Avery?” he asked.

  She took her time, but the words seemed plucked from a memory she rarely visited any longer. “I regret not remembering that girl,” she said softly.

  The connection between them surged, peaked. He stumbled back a step, desperately needing the distance. WTF? Why did he suddenly have the desire to yank her into his arms and soothe her? To stroke her hair and tip her chin up and take her mouth to see how she tasted? To soak up her moan and know he was the reason for it? Confusion blasted through him, along with a rising arousal that threw him off-balance.

  Oh no, he was so not going there. It was ridiculous and messy and . . . dangerous.

  A couple strolled past them, bumping into him and apologizing, and he held up his hand in acknowledgment. When he looked back at Avery, the moment was gone.

  And he was glad.

  Avery opened the door to the bakery. The scents of sugar, chocolate, and happiness filled the air, and she perked up as she greeted the young girl behind the counter and asked for Maria. She wanted to forget about that strange encounter with Carter, and her sudden, awful urge to close the distance between them and . . .

  Well, she didn’t know. And she didn’t want to find out.

  Carter browsed past the display cases filled with butter cookies, cupcakes, and various pastries tempting onlookers with swirls of chocolate ganache, fresh whipped cream, and flaky pastry. She caught sight of the last chocolate croissant lying in the tray. It looked lonely. Madison’s Bakery had been all sold out the past few mornings, so she hadn’t had her fix in a while. She licked her lips and promised herself a reward for when the appointment was over.

  Maria came out and shook Carter’s hand. She was an older woman with permed brown hair that looked like a helmet, and strong, blunt features. With a stocky build, thick hips, and hands known to whip the best batter in the Cape, she was a master of her craft and well known for her custom wedding cakes.

  Avery opened her bag and removed a stack of designs. She already had a basic idea of what her friend wanted, so today was about narrowing to specifics and taste. Carter sat across from her, lounging with ease in the small chair that barely held his length. Her glance touched on his muscled thighs, then quickly jumped away. His presence was becoming more than a nuisance. He was beginning to edge right into the distraction phase—a deadly place for a coordinator who had to juggle a thousand details.

  She cleared her throat and focused. Time to implement her plan and show him tasting endless cakes and launching into an analysis of each one wasn’t fun. He was definitely the no-nonsense type. The one to see a shirt on the rack and buy it without checking for something he might like better. Hopefully, this would be their last appointment together before he cried surrender.

  Maria came back with a tray of samples and bottles of water. “It’s always nice working with the bride’s family when I can’t be with the bride directly. I hope you’ve brought your appetite.”

  Carter winked. “I made sure not to eat breakfast or lunch due to your reputation.”

  A laugh tinkled from the older woman, and Avery tried not to gag at his obvious flattery. “There’s eight samples here, which will give you both a spectrum of flavors and combinations. I’ve included some classic, my most popular, and a few designer types, as I like to call it.”

  “Sounds great. There are a few things Ally doesn’t like, so that may help us limit the options,” he said.

  Maria nodded. “Yes, Avery already gave me a list, which is why we’re staying away from red velvet, cherries, and any type of banana flavors.”

  Carter grunted, as if bestowing a point. He really didn’t think highly of her if he believed she wouldn’t know her best friend’s likes and dislikes after years of hanging out together.

  “Let’s start with a twist on the basic. We have a vanilla butter cake, paired with caramel buttercream. Instead of the usual frosting, this one has a torched meringue to really intensify the flavors.”

  Avery and Carter reached for the same fork at the same time. Their fingers brushed, and Avery jerked back, not wanting to experience any skin-on-skin contact. Hell no. She refused to feel any type of attraction to her friend’s overbearing older brother. It was too damn weird.

  She grasped the other fork and popped the bite into her mouth. The gorgeous moist cake and subtle sweetness of caramel was soothing and pleasant on her tongue. She half closed her eyes, concentrating on the entire experience while she funneled Ally’s particular tastes mentally.

  Carter turned toward Maria. “I apologize.”

  The older woman frowned. “For what?”

  “I questioned Avery’s decision to deal with only one bakery. I thought we needed a broader amou
nt of choices, but obviously I was wrong. This is truly amazing.”

  Maria smiled, pleasure sparkling in her brown eyes. “Thank you. That was the nicest apology I ever received.”

  Avery held back a groan. Another female bites the dust.

  Maria narrowed her focus to Carter, enthusiastically explaining each sample and engaging in a lively discussion of baking compared to creative art.

  “How did you come up with the idea of including lavender in the buttercream? It’s subtle, but the lingering floral wakes up my mouth.”

  “Yes! That’s exactly what I wanted. What do you think of it with the carrot cake?” Maria asked excitedly.

  “Love it. But you know what’s true brilliance? Pairing both with a Grand Marnier cream-cheese filling. If someone told me those flavors would work, I would’ve never believed them.”

  Maria leaned over the table, putting their heads close together. “We must break the barriers of the mind and concentrate on taste as essence. Even though the brain tries to anticipate what you will be eating, twisting the classics with surprising elements allows the taste buds to explode.”

  “Genius.”

  Barf.

  Avery cleared her throat. “Um, Maria, I really think the coconut with the orange buttercream should be in the top three. It’s a beautiful combination.”

  Maria nodded. “Excellent choice. Do you agree, Carter? After all, she’s your sister. You know her best.”

  Avery firmed her jaw to keep it from falling open. Son of a bitch. He was doing it again. Pouring on hidden charm she’d never seen before—maybe because he’d never bothered to show her. The master baker was practically blooming under his attention and had cut Avery off from the consultation.

  “Yes, we definitely should send her a sample, but personally, I think she’s going to go with the carrot and lavender. It’s unique.”

  “I agree, it’s wonderful, but carrot isn’t her favorite cake. She never orders it in a restaurant. I think she’ll prefer a classic with a subtle twist,” Avery said.

  Carter arched a brow. “I disagree. I think she’s going to want a cake that’s a bit daring for her big day.”