Love on Beach Avenue

by Probst, Jennifer

Carter sounded calm, not as if he’d just gotten caught making out on the beach illegally like some horny teen. “I’m sorry, Officer. Our mistake. We just wanted to take a quiet walk. We’ll leave now.”

  Avery ducked her head low as Carter took her hand and began leading her toward the police officer.

  “We have rules for a reason,” the policeman said in a thick Jersey accent, his tone registering disapproval. “There’s been drownings at the beach at night, and we want to keep our people safe.”

  “I understand.”

  Crap, crap, crap . . .

  She stumbled over the sand. The light wavered and came to focus on her full force, and it was all over.

  “Avery?”

  Slowly, she raised her head. She wondered how bad she looked—with her lips swollen, hair wind-tossed, and her eyes still glassy from the kiss that was so much more than a kiss. “Hi, Ron.”

  Ron Livery looked a bit like Ed Sheeran. He had a baby face, short red hair, and a jovial personality. They’d grown up together, and he was now a full-time police officer in Cape May. He was also a terrible gossip and loved spending aimless hours sharing stories with the tourists at the cafés. He was literally one of the worst people to catch her making out on the beach with a stranger.

  “I can’t believe it’s you! Darlin’, you know better than to be out here at this hour. Wait—are you here of your own free will?” he suddenly asked, his gaze sharpening on Carter with suspicion.

  “Yes! Um, we finished dinner, and it was such a pretty night, I figured no one would notice if we took a quick walk. This is Carter, by the way.”

  Ron glanced back and forth between them. A slow grin transformed his face. “Yeah, sure, I get it. A walk, huh?” He laughed and shook his head. Her cheeks burned, but she knew there was worse to come. “Are you a weekend visitor, Carter?”

  And let the torture begin . . .

  “My sister is getting married, and Avery is the wedding planner,” he answered. “I’m here for the summer.”

  “The whole summer, huh?” Was that a wink or a trick of the light? “Where are you staying?”

  She cleared her throat. “Um, Ron, we should get going. It’s getting late.”

  “Sure, sure. So where are you staying?”

  “Jackson. It’s a beach cottage by—”

  “The Virginia Cottages. Yep, I know it. Which color? Pink?”

  “No, white.”

  “Nice. Love the views. Where’d you go to dinner?”

  Avery wanted to scream in frustration. “Peter Shields.” She tried to walk a few steps and urge Carter ahead, but Ron just crossed his arms in front of his chest, his uniform neat and pressed and all official-looking.

  “Wow, nice place. Fancy. You like the food?”

  She caught the amused lift of his lip. Great, he thought this whole exchange was funny. Sometimes she hated small towns.

  “It was excellent. We had crabby balls.”

  A sudden silence descended.

  Then Ron burst out laughing. “Crabby balls, huh? Son of a bitch, that’s funny. Well, come on, let me escort you back so you kids don’t get into further trouble.”

  She barely bit back her comment that he’d been the one sneaking onto the beach with her when they were young, but she managed to behave. Ron chattered with Carter, asking a million more questions and shooting her grins that told her he approved of her choice in make-out partners.

  By the time they reached the car, her head was pounding. Dear God, she’d kissed Carter Ross. And not just kissed. Felt up, stuck her tongue in his mouth, moaned his name. She’d been about to drag him down on the sand and let him do anything he wanted. Ron could have walked up to a scream-worthy scene she would’ve never been able to live down. Taylor had once been caught in a compromising situation in the back of Ugly Mug restaurant, and she hadn’t heard the end of it for years. As far as she knew, her sister still refused to eat there to avoid the teasing.

  “Catch you around, Carter,” Ron said. “Avery, we’ll talk later.” He winked again, then strode off with a jaunt in his step.

  She slid into the car seat and turned her head toward the window. She prayed Carter wouldn’t try to talk about what had just happened. It was too much to process. She needed to get home and think about it all in blessed isolation.

  She felt his heavy gaze on her, but after a few seconds, he started the car and drove her home. This time, the silence was agonizing, bursting with unspoken questions. She clasped her damp palms in her lap, counting down the miles until they pulled up to her house.

  “Thanks for dinner. Oh, wait, I paid.” She shook her head. “Okay, I’ll see you for the florist appointment this week.”

  “Avery, we need to talk.”

  She gave a crazed half laugh. “Oh no, we really don’t. In fact, I think we should forget this ever happened. Blame it on the call of the moon or the pull of the ocean or something like that. Bye.”

  He repeated her name again, but she jumped out and slammed the door behind her. The purple cottage had never looked so welcoming.

  She hurried inside, slumped against the wall, held her breath, and waited him out. Eventually, the headlights dimmed and the car disappeared.

  Her lungs collapsed. Tomorrow, they’d both wake up, laugh about the incident, and move on. They’d shared an impulsive kiss. It didn’t have to mean anything. Not every kiss meant something. Maybe it was even a strange experiment they needed to have in order to move forward planning this wedding together. All that locked-up, backed-up, sizzling attraction could lead to nowhere.

  The ridiculous explanations soothed her. She got ready for bed, watched a bit of television, and collapsed into sleep.

  Too bad she dreamed of making love to Carter Ross on the beach.

  Too bad it was so damn good, when she woke up, she tried to go back to sleep in order to do it again.

  Chapter Eleven

  She wanted to forget it.

  Carter scratched his dog’s rump and watched her little leg begin to kick in ecstasy. No wonder he adored Lucy. She was simple, loved him completely, and allowed him to make her happy. In reality, he’d just kissed a woman who’d made his head spin like moonshine, and she’d frantically told him to forget about it.

  Irritation pulsed through him. He didn’t just recklessly kiss women under the stars. His life had been stringently controlled for so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to let go. Maybe it was a lesson that doing impulsive things was a bad idea. Because the first time he tried, he got rejected.

  Lucy whined when he took a break, pushing her damp nose into his palm, then licking him. Instantly, his heart was soothed. He resumed scratching, his mind sifting through the memory of last night. She’d literally burned up in his arms. There was no way Avery Sunshine was being polite, or having some harmless, reckless fun. No, that kiss had been sheer intensity, ripping through every one of his walls and rocketing toward his core.

  Not just the physical core. The emotional one.

  Much more dangerous.

  He remembered the taste of her, sweet like raw honey dripped over his tongue. The breathy moans from her lips, the sting of her fingernails as she dug into his flesh, the way her body had madly pressed against his, seeking more. That kiss had consumed them both and been more than either of them expected. It had burst open feelings he’d never thought possible.

  If Ron hadn’t interrupted, who knew what would have happened.

  But he had, and she’d run. Wanted to forget. Thought it was easier to ignore his texts today, pretending the kiss was nothing. Because if they acknowledged there was something more between them, there’d be a mess on both of their hands.

  She was a woman who probably believed in weddings, love, and forever. He was a man who’d sworn to never allow such emotions in his life, because he’d experienced firsthand how poisonous the result could be. She was his sister’s wedding planner and best friend. He was eight years her senior. They lived in completely different states. The only thing
they could possibly have was a short summer affair, and he bet Avery would fight him every inch of the way.

  Unless . . .

  Unless he could convince her it was the perfect setup. Her work schedule had little downtime for dates or relationships. He could be the one to scratch an itch. Fit into her life as she wanted him. He still had a month in Cape May ahead of him, stretched out with nothing to do but help with the wedding and lie on the beach.

  It was possible he’d be able to tempt her with him being at her beck and call, whenever she needed him. He wouldn’t mind being used. Not by her.

  Not after that kiss.

  “What do you think, Luce?” he asked, stopping his servitude to take a swig of beer. The television murmured low in the background, and he was sprawled out on the sunporch, enjoying the view of the ocean in the distance. Not a bad vacation at all. But it would be better with Avery in his bed. “You think I can seduce her into seducing me?”

  Lucy threw her head in doggy annoyance, her pink bow bouncing merrily. Her nose tipped up in arrogance. She took a long time to warm up to women, especially if they got close. It had taken his sister a while to get her to finally accept she was part of the family, too.

  “Bitch,” he said fondly, patting her head. “I’m going to try anyway. I know it’s been a while, but I’ve never experienced a kiss like that.”

  Lucy growled.

  He laughed, cuddling her, and drank his beer while he studied the ocean, thinking of Avery. Her fierceness and passion for her work. Her sharp mind and refusal to lose a bet. Her joyful laughter.

  But most of all, that gut-stirring, explosive, perfect kiss.

  And how much he wanted to experience it again.

  When he walked into the room, her stomach tumbled.

  Not a good sign.

  For the past two days, she’d been desperately trying to forget the kiss. She’d ignored his texts, figuring she needed a bit of distance to reset before she saw him again. They had an appointment with the florist on the schedule, so there was no reason to see or talk to him beforehand.

  Guess the distance hadn’t helped.

  He had that ridiculous man purse over his shoulder, and Lucy peeked over the edge to check out the surroundings. His hair was damp and gleamed coal-black in the explosive sunlight. He wore his glasses today, but somehow, ridiculously, they looked sexier than usual. Was it the newly sported stubble? The casual clothes consisting of shorts, a muscle-hugging T-shirt, and canvas boat shoes? Or did he exude a simmering intensity she’d never seen before? Dear God, she was doomed. From now on, she’d think of their relationship in terms of BK and AK.

  Before Kiss and After Kiss.

  She forced a sunny smile that matched her last name and chirped out a good morning, which came out way too fake. Still, he smiled back, allowing her to keep a healthy distance of space between them.

  “Why doesn’t she walk?” she asked.

  He frowned, glancing down at his dog. “Why walk when you can ride?”

  A laugh escaped. “Can you say spoiled? Hi, Lucy. How are you?” She reached out tentatively, holding her fingers up.

  Lucy stuck her head out, sniffed, then disappeared back into her tote.

  She’d been dissed. Again. “Guess she doesn’t like me much.”

  “Eventually, she will. If you keep trying.” His gaze narrowed on her, and suddenly there was little air in her space. It all got taken up by his big body, glinting blue-gray eyes, and seething male energy.

  “R-Right. Well, let’s get inside. Devon is one of the best florists in the Cape, and she squeezed us in. I’m assuming you don’t know much about flowers?”

  His grin made her pause. “Oh, I’ve been studying up,” he said casually.

  She had no time to panic at his words as a door opened. Devon greeted them in her usual zen manner. She wore denim overalls, a white T-shirt, and old pink sneakers. Her dark hair was braided and fell to her waist. Devon was proud of her hippie mother, who’d birthed her after a hookup at Woodstock, and was the ultimate flower child a generation later. “I have everything set up. Come to the back,” she said in her singsong voice. “I’m thrilled to be working with purple—it’s such a great chakra color to incorporate in a lifelong commitment.”

  Avery ignored the look Carter shot her.

  Sketches, books, and photos spilled over the contemporary glass desk. The air smelled like lavender and sage. They sat down, and Devon faced them with a smile. “Carter, it’s wonderful to see the man of honor take such an interest. It speaks well of how much you love your sister.”

  “Thank you. Do you have sample bouquets for us to look at?”

  “No, I rarely have all the flowers I need right here at the store. I’m a visual florist, so I like to sketch out the entire design of the wedding; then I create a floral concept for the bouquets, tables, beach, and anything else she needs.”

  Avery turned toward him. “I already spoke with Devon regarding your sister’s color scheme, but Ally is torn between going with tall centerpieces or shorter ones. I advised her to go with the taller ones, since they’ll offer a bit more presence and elegance to the space.”

  “Can I see some examples?” he asked.

  “Of course. I have a sketchbook, and here are some photographs to give you an idea of what I’ve come up with.” Devon turned the photographs around and tapped a pencil against the first picture. “First off, I’m looking at doing narrow crystal vases and using a blocking effect with water and short-cut blooms. See, this one shows the lower half has water and blooms of purple peony; then glass beads will go on top and separate the top half of the vase. This is where I’ll use various roses, lily of the valley, and hydrangeas for a lush effect, interspersing them with birchwood painted silver. It’s for the wow factor.”

  Avery was always humbled by the creative artistry of the vendors she worked with. The idea before her was simply stunning, combining Ally’s bold personality along with classic simplicity. “Will people have trouble looking through the vase to talk?”

  Devon smiled. “No, that’s why we do the blooms at the bottom, and water at the eye level. The flowers hit the perfect height, so it’s not intrusive to the table.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Carter said slowly. “I think Ally would love it, but I’d like to see the shorter centerpieces for comparison.”

  “Of course.” She shuffled the new papers and placed them down in order. “Here’s the second concept. We use a square base with a silver-encrusted basket-type vase, with a black-raspberry satin ribbon. There’ll be a slight shimmer of sparkle to give it a rich sheen. Then we keep the bouquet tight and neat, and use colors as our statement. Dark purple, lime green, and white looks lovely with the silver base. I’d go with lavender and jade-green roses, white Asiatic lilies, maybe some freesia. These are some combinations.”

  Avery watched his intense expression and was slammed back to the night on the beach. He’d been no robot—not even close. Sensuality had dripped from his voice and gleamed in his eyes. When was the last time she’d been kissed with such pent-up hunger and passion, as if she were the most important woman in the world?

  Never?

  “I think Ally would prefer this version,” he said, tapping the glossy image. “The taller ones give off an air of ostentatiousness.”

  And just like that, all the warm feelings toward him leeched out. She snapped in annoyance. “‘Ostentatiousness’? It’s classic elegance with a vibrant twist. Sorry, but I disagree with you. I guarantee Ally will prefer the tall ones.”

  He lifted his gaze and stared back at her. The chilly, judgy look was back, and it only made her want to take him down a peg. When had he become the wedding expert? Brother or not, he was butting into every decision she’d carefully analyzed and helped select with her vendors. Hours of work, and he bestowed opinions like she was his lowly employee, ready to do his bidding.

  Funny, she’d dealt with all sorts of PITAs in every family relation, and always kept her cool. But the lo
nger she spent with Carter, the more she wanted to prove she was right.

  His smile mocked her. “And of course, I value your opinion, but I’m quite sure if you send both options to Ally, she’ll choose mine.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Devon cleared her throat, her eyes wide with fascination. “How about we move on to the bouquet? We’ll put these two aside for now and secure the bride’s approval a bit later.”

  Avery gathered her composure and nodded. “Of course,” she said brightly.

  “I’m excited about this arrangement. Our main showpiece will be the lisianthus, which is a beautiful Kyoto-purple color. It’s a bell-shaped flower that looks like this.” Devon showed them a picture of rich violet spilling down in a vinelike flow. “I’d surround them with a white lily of the valley, some roses, and frame the bouquet with some wild greens. The dresses are lavender, correct?”

  “Yes,” Avery answered.

  “Perfect. We could do a smaller version with the bridesmaids. What do you think?”

  Carter tapped his lip. “Do you have any of those in stock so I can see what it might look like?”

  “I actually do. Give me a moment and I’ll be right back. I can put together an extremely rough frame for you.” She slid out of her seat and disappeared.

  Avery turned with a snarl. Lucy sensed danger for her master and popped out of her carrier, a warning growl on her lips. “Why are you being such a jerk?” Avery hissed. “And keep your guard dog back.”

  “She’s just protective, aren’t you, baby?” he crooned, picking her up and cuddling her on his lap. The dog settled, licked his hand, and shot Avery a triumphant look.

  Unbelievable.

  “And why am I a jerk? Because I care what Ally’s flowers look like for her wedding?”

  She kept her voice to a harsh whisper. “You just want to disagree with me to bust my balls.”

  He grinned. “Kind of impossible to do that, isn’t it? I’m just offering an alternate opinion. Do you call all of your clients jerks when they speak up?”

  She squirmed in her seat. “No, just you.”

  “I’m honored.”