Love on Beach Avenue

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Love on Beach Avenue Page 21

by Probst, Jennifer


  He reached up and released the pins in her hair, letting the curls tumble free. A moan rose to her lips as he pulled through the strands, his hands strong and soothing on her scalp. “All I know is I’ve never felt like this before. Not with any other woman.”

  A terrible hope ignited within, but her fear smothered the flame quickly. What was he promising? A two-week affair? A long-distance relationship? Would she be waiting for him in desperation to call, or spend weekends with her, until he slowly realized he didn’t have enough to give?

  Her voice shook as she raised herself on tiptoes. “What do you want?” she demanded.

  “You. Damn you, Avery, for making me want.” He gripped her head, and his mouth crashed over hers.

  She kissed him back with a touch of violence and need. The dam within her broke, and she pushed her tongue in his mouth and sank her nails into his shoulders, then bit his lower lip. He cursed, reslanted his mouth, and took the kiss deep, forcing her to arch back under the ferocity of leashed male hunger.

  They kissed a long time under the ripe full moon, until she finally managed to rip herself out of his embrace. Panting, she gazed at him like an opponent in the ring, ready for another round. “I need to go home.”

  He stepped back, his breathing heavy. He nodded. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”

  They didn’t speak or hold hands. The aching sexual tension throbbed between them like a mocking taunt, and she knew all she had to do was touch him one time before they both surrendered, damn the consequences.

  She opened her door and slid into the front seat.

  “I’ll see you this week about the final plans for AC?” he said.

  She nodded. The empty ache inside stretched and yearned for more. “Carter?”

  “Yeah?”

  She nailed him with her stare. “Figure it out.”

  Then she closed the door and drove home.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Avery picked at the healthy parfait in front of her filled with plain Greek yogurt, fresh fruit, and homemade granola. It was definitely good, but nowhere near the ecstasy of a chocolate croissant. But Madison’s had been out, and she knew she should be more like Bella and eat healthier.

  “Do we want to discuss anything before Gabe gets here?” she asked, trying to muster some enthusiasm. Her usual energy had been lacking the last few days since her kiss with Carter. She kept checking her phone for a text, and swearing she saw him around every street corner. She fantasized about him showing up at her doorstep and declaring he wanted a full-on relationship with her, then dragging her to bed.

  So pathetic.

  Taylor’s pink hair shimmered in the light streaming from the window. “Yeah, what’s going on with Carter?”

  Bella looked up from the laptop, suddenly interested. “You owe us an update. Zoe couldn’t stop talking about her beach day with him, and then Gabe recruits him to help you at the Bankses’ wedding?”

  She shifted in her chair. Usually, she told her sisters everything because nothing interesting happened in her personal life. But lately, she’d been close-lipped, afraid to tell them about the real feelings she was developing. She wondered how much she should share, and then realized it was too late.

  They’d scented vulnerability.

  “Did you sleep with him?” Taylor demanded, the diamond in her nose winking outrageously. “I swear to God, Avery, if you slept with him and kept it from us, I’m gonna be pissed.”

  Avery gasped. “Are you kidding? You were the one who said to start knocking and give you privacy.”

  “That’s different. I’ll happily share all my sex stories with either of you. I just don’t want you actually seeing it.”

  Bella laughed. “Good to know, T.”

  “I didn’t sleep with him,” Avery said stiffly. “We just . . . kissed.”

  “Did you have an orgasm?” Bella asked.

  She dropped her face into her hands and groaned. “Oh my God, we’re not teenagers anymore, guys! I refuse to talk about this with you.”

  “Aww, babe, you did have an orgasm!” Taylor said proudly. “Good for you.”

  “Are you going to see him again, or was it a onetime thing?” Bella asked.

  All the ragged emotions hit her at once, and she was suddenly fighting tears.

  Her sisters sensed her shift in mood, and in moments, they were crowded around her. “Did he hurt you?” Taylor asked. “I’ll fuck him up good if he did.”

  She sniffed and tried to laugh. “No. I’m just stupid and fell for him.”

  “But that’s a good thing,” Bella said, stroking her hair in a motherly fashion. “You deserve to have a relationship and be happy. What’s the problem?”

  “He doesn’t believe in love. Or marriage. He won’t tell me why, but he’s so damn stubborn about not wanting to commit to one person for the rest of his life. And I’m not asking him to put a ring on my finger after a few weeks—but I need to know I won’t get hurt!”

  Bella clucked her tongue. “That is surprising because he’s so wonderful with Zoe. And he raised Ally. Was he divorced before or something?”

  Avery shook her head. “No. Maybe he got hurt in the past? I don’t know. I told him I can’t get involved when there’s no possibility of a future together.”

  “Why?”

  She looked at Taylor. “‘Why?’” she repeated. “Because it makes no sense. I’m already falling for him. We’ll have some type of long-distance relationship, I’ll want more, and he’ll end up breaking my heart. There’s no happy ending here.”

  Taylor frowned. “Well, that’s a lousy way to look at life,” she said. “Are you telling me you say no to anything that doesn’t guarantee a happily ever after? ’Cause that’s just lame.”

  Avery stared at her sister, temper snapping. “Thanks for the support, T. Of course you wouldn’t understand why I shouldn’t explore a relationship with someone who’ll end up walking away.”

  She shrugged. Her sister didn’t even seem bothered by the jab. “Maybe he won’t. Maybe he needs time to see if you’re the woman he can take the leap for. I’m disappointed in you, babe. You quit before you even got to play.”

  “Um, T? Maybe you should back off a little,” Bella suggested, likely seeing the look of fury on Avery’s face.

  How dare she make her decision seem careless? Avery jumped to her feet and faced Taylor. “Oh yeah? When was the last time you took a chance on anything?” she challenged. “We may not say it, but we all know you just use guys for sex to keep from getting involved. You pretend you’re this worldly woman with no cares, but you lock yourself up tighter than any of us. What are you scared of, T?”

  Bella took a step back, her blue eyes wide with shock. “Guys? Can we slow it down here? Take a breath? I think—”

  “At least I don’t bury myself in work and pretend I’m satisfied,” Taylor shot back. “You spend your life planning and living for others, but one day you’ll wake up and realize you let every opportunity pass you by. I’m stuck in this stupid small town for another year because of my promise, but damned if I’m not getting out and going after my own happiness the moment I can.”

  Bella stiffened. The usual light in her blue eyes turned flat and cold. “Are you saying you got stuck here because Matt died? I never asked you to stay and give up your dreams for me. And I won’t be your damn scapegoat. Maybe we don’t need you here for another year, Taylor,” she said.

  Taylor shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I wanted to be here with you and Zoe. It’s Mom and Dad who trapped me into this promise, not wanting the business to fail.”

  “Because I couldn’t work for so long,” Bella said flatly. “It was my fault. I wasn’t strong enough. I’ve never been strong enough—not like you two.”

  Avery felt her sister’s pain like a punch in her stomach. “That’s not true, Bella,” she said quietly. “You are stronger than any woman I know. You chose to raise Zoe with joy and gave yourself time to heal. How could we poss
ibly blame you for any of that?”

  The fight drained out of her sister. “I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice came out faint. “Sometimes I just don’t know if I’m doing anything right. I try to be my best self every day, but I constantly question myself. I never feel confident like you both.”

  “Are you kidding? We all question ourselves. That’s part of being human. Don’t ever apologize for that,” Avery said. They surrounded Bella and hugged her tight, and then Avery started crying, and Taylor patted her back hard in her own form of comfort.

  When Gabe came through the door, he stopped short at the cry-fest in front of him. “Are you guys okay?” he asked.

  They broke apart, sniffling, and Avery grabbed a tissue. “Yeah, we’re fine. We needed a cleanse.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “We really need another guy around here,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t be expected to deal with this on my own.”

  Taylor laughed. “That’s what you get when you’re late.”

  “Are you feeling better?” Bella asked.

  For a moment, his gaze flared, and Avery studied the expression on her assistant’s face. He always acted a bit different around Bella. He didn’t joke with her in the same way, or throw his arm around her with affection. In fact, he usually kept his distance and acted more professional. She’d figured it was because he thought Bella was more fragile and sensitive than the rest.

  “Yes, thank you. The virus passed. Must’ve been a twenty-four-hour thing.” He walked over to his usual chair, then stopped. “Almost forgot. This was on the porch for you, Avery.”

  She opened the small white bag and withdrew a perfect chocolate croissant. Freshly baked, with crisp crust and a chocolate drizzle. Her mouth watered, and suddenly her mood skyrocketed. “Who is this from?”

  Gabe shrugged. “Not sure.”

  “Wait, there’s a note.” She pulled out a square piece of paper and read it. Then burst out laughing.

  Guilt is optional. —C

  Her sisters shared a knowing look. “Remember what I said, babe,” Taylor said. “Someone has to take a chance. It might as well be you.”

  “Aww, come on, what’s that cryptic message mean? I’m part of this group, too,” Gabe complained.

  “We were just having a discussion about our periods. Want in?” Taylor asked.

  “You’re such a bitch,” Gabe muttered.

  “Thanks,” her sister said brightly.

  Avery dropped back in her chair, pushed her parfait away, and took a bite of her pastry.

  Then thought about her sister’s words all day long.

  Carter walked into Pierce’s photography studio and admired the space. It looked like an old loft that had been converted and gave off an artistic, comfortable feel. Light poured in from various windows, and wood beams crisscrossed the ceilings. The walls were painted stark white and filled with pictures of all sizes. Right away, Carter saw the man had talent. They weren’t the normal cookie-cutter photos one expected from a wedding, but instead had fresh angles and ways of capturing the couple and wedding party that made one want to study the shot closer. Ranging from vivid color to misty black and white, the collage showed the broad range of Pierce’s vision.

  Avery was right again. There was no need to question her decision to book him as Ally’s photographer, especially after seeing the man in action at the Bankses’ wedding.

  “Hey, Carter, good to see you again,” Pierce said, walking over to shake his hand. “You recover yet?”

  He grinned. “Barely. Working a wedding is not for the faint of heart.”

  Taylor came walking out from the hall, her pink hair slicked back, wearing a sleeveless black dress that hugged her trim frame and hit above the knee. Her nose ring winked, and she smiled in welcome. “Hi, Carter. Heard you were having a boys’ lunch.”

  “I invited Gabe to hang with us, too,” Pierce explained. “He heard we were grabbing a beer and said he needs a shot of testosterone. He works with too many women.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes. “Gabe complains, but he loves the drama. He’s the worst gossiper I know.”

  Pierce snorted and shot her a look. “Taylz, you couldn’t keep a secret for a million bucks.”

  She gasped. “Screw you! I didn’t tell your mom you skipped school for a whole damn week in eleventh grade, did I?”

  “No, but you told Ron, which was worse. He snitched to everyone, and I got busted. Remember?”

  “Whatever. Go ahead and rewrite history if it makes you feel better.”

  Pierce laughed, and they shared a look of such understanding and intimacy, Carter figured they’d been fooling around in the office before he came in. It seemed Avery’s sister had found her match.

  Taylor turned to face Carter. “Hey, I heard you kicked ass at the Bankses’ wedding. You made Avery really happy.” Her words held a deeper meaning, especially paired with the intense stare she gave him, as if trying to tell him something important.

  His chest tightened. Had Avery confessed what was happening between them to her sister? And even more important, had she shared her real feelings? Taylor didn’t look pissed at him, so maybe it was her way of saying she approved.

  And why the hell did he care?

  Because her sisters were family, and he wanted them to like him.

  “Okay, I’m outta here,” she announced, hitching her tiny leather purse over her shoulder. She shut the door behind her, and the room immediately lost some of its vitality.

  Pierce clapped his hands together. “Okay, want to see the office and a few portfolios before we head out?”

  “Sure. This is a great place you have.”

  “Thanks. It used to be a marketplace, then a bike shop, but nothing could make it. I figured even though it’s a bit off the beaten path, the space would be worth it.”

  They walked down a hall and entered a room with a large desk and red leather chair, a mishmash of photography equipment, and shelves filled with more pictures on canvas. A corner bookcase held an array of books and magazines and various wooden signs with quotes. The chandelier was a cool concoction of metal and silver lanterns stacked in different sizes, adding an artistic twist. But it was the painting behind the desk that mesmerized him immediately.

  The ocean was a moody, stormy gray with waves hurling high above the surf. A lone girl sat on the beach, arms curled around her knees, her profile shaded as she stared into the water and faced the violence of the storm. Wet blonde hair tumbled down her back. Her face reflected a calm and aching loneliness that was only emphasized by the roar of nature ready to devour her whole.

  It wasn’t a piece of work he’d hang in his office when consulting with clients. It was a bit jarring, and had nothing to do with showing off the expanse of the man’s work, but Carter hadn’t seen anything like it before. The combination of raw emotion and graceful, sweeping lines made him confused. Made him think.

  He jerked his head toward it. “Did you paint that?”

  The man glanced behind him and laughed. “Hell no. Taylor did. She paints as a hobby, and I’ve been bugging her to get some of her work out into the shops to sell. She kept refusing but finally let me display this one. Amazing, right?”

  Carter loved art, especially the type that evoked a reaction. Books and art were the only safe places he allowed himself to feel things without worry of a fallout. “I’m impressed. You know, I have a few friends in DC who collect art and love to discover new artists. Maybe I can speak to Taylor and see if she’s interested.”

  Pierce dug out a thick binder and flipped through the pages. “That’s really nice, but she’d never go for it. She’d think it’s charity. I’ve never known anyone else with so much stubborn pride. She’s a real pain in the ass.” He uttered the words with pure affection.

  Carter sat down opposite the desk and gazed at it thoughtfully. “I get it. Artists are temperamental. Is the painting for sale?”

  Pierce looked up, surprised. “You really want to buy it?”

&nbs
p; “Yeah. I’ve been poking around the art shops here, and there’s a lot of nice stuff but nothing extraordinary. I’d love to have this hanging in my home.”

  The man’s green eyes filled with pride. “Then it’s yours. A hundred bucks.”

  He blinked. “A hundred?”

  “Oh, sorry, you want it for seventy-five?”

  He groaned and shook his head. “That’s worth at least $500. Maybe more. You need to speak to her about pricing properly or she’ll be wasting her time. I’ll take it for $250. If she’s only expecting a hundred and gets five, she’ll just think you’re bullshitting her.”

  Pierce grinned. “Sold. And hey, if you want to pay me double for my services, I won’t fight you. I don’t have a pride problem like she does.”

  Carter laughed, and leaned over to study the sample pictures. “That’s why I have a wedding planner—to get the most bang for my buck. But I will buy you a beer.”

  “Deal.”

  It didn’t take them long to go through the portfolio and target various shots his sister would probably love to incorporate in her album. He texted a bunch to Ally and told her he’d call her later. He loved the sophistication of Pierce’s work—his photographs weren’t the usual kitschy, overdone wedding keepsakes but were pieces of art.

  Pierce locked up the studio, and they walked toward the Beach Shack. Even though it was early, party stragglers ready to start their evenings were already scattered by the outdoor tiki bar. Music came from a small band playing reggae, and people danced in the sandpit to the island-type music. He loved the casual atmosphere. Oversize picnic tables held big groups, and thick burgers were served on Frisbees. Various activities had been laid out for patrons to amuse themselves with, such as mini-golf, boccie ball, and giant-size wooden puzzles. Brightly colored Adirondack chairs were set up around the band and firepit, where people relaxed and sipped frozen cocktails.

  They found three open barstools at the end of the tiki bar and didn’t have to wait long for Gabe. Still dressed in a sleek summer suit, this time a comfortable cream linen, he greeted them and immediately shrugged out of his jacket. “Dudes, I had a shit day. I need a strong IPA, preferably in IV form.”

 

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