Bayside Fantasies (Bayside Summers Book 6)

by Melissa Foster

  “Whoa, no. We can’t go there. I am definitely not looking to get tangled up with those kinds of strings.” He looked at his watch.

  “How about no asking for details about other guys or women, and sex with others only with protection,” she suggested.

  The thought of her with another man made him want to punch something. “That means a condom, not just the pill, right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

  “Okay. Sounds good.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go.”

  He kissed her, and when she wound her arms around his neck, he couldn’t stop kissing her. She was heaven and hell all wrapped up in one beautiful, effervescent package.

  They kissed their way to the door, and when he finally found the strength to peel his lips away, he said, “This storm is supposed to get nasty midweek. As Brock said, stock up on essentials: food, water, matches, candles. Does this house have shutters? Do you know how to put them on?”

  “I’ve been through storms before.” She patted his chest and said, “Be careful driving to Boston, and have a safe flight.”

  He kissed her again, hating that he had to leave, and at the same time, irritated at himself for feeling that way. “Should we exchange contact info?”

  She nibbled her lower lip, her eyes contemplative. “No. That’s a recipe for disaster. We’re not boyfriend-girlfriend. It’s not like we should be touching base or sharing our days, right?”

  “Right. I’ll see you at the wedding, then?”

  She nodded.

  He gave her one last kiss and said, “I look forward to seeing you naked afterward.”

  “Me too.” She blushed.

  He pulled open the door, and the wind blew rain into the foyer. “Shit.” He pushed the door closed, hating the thought of her out there all alone. “Maybe you should come to the resort and stay in one of the cottages so you’re not out here by yourself.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve lived alone for years. I’m a grown woman. I can handle a little rain and wind.” She nudged him toward the door and said, “Now go.”

  TEGAN CLOSED THE door behind Jett and wiggled her butt, pumping her fists and spinning in a little happy dance, whisper-shouting, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She darted up the stairs, taking them two at time, and dove onto the bed. She flopped onto her back, beaming up at the ceiling, arms out to her sides, legs kicking, as she yelled, “That was so freaking fun!”

  Her pulse was going crazy, and she might be losing it, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t wait for him to go through security at the airport and find the red lace thong with the little metal heart charm on it that she’d stuck in his coat pocket in the middle of the night. What she wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when the metal detector went off!

  How did she get so lucky to find a guy who was funny, sexy, smart, and good in bed? She rolled over and pressed her face into the pillow he’d used, inhaling his manly scent.

  Jett Masters.

  Even his name was hot.

  She reached for her phone, rolling onto her back as she scrolled through her missed texts. She read one from Jock that he’d sent last night—There’s a storm heading your way. You okay?—and one from Chloe that came in this morning—I’m dying! You and JETT! Call me! Tegan was glad she’d turned her phone off before the party.

  She sent a quick response to Jock. Hi. I’m fine. It’s just rain and wind. How are you? Have you gone to see your family? Are you writing? Where are you? Then she called Chloe.

  “Girl,” Chloe said when she answered, “please tell me he did not drop you off at the door with a peck on the cheek.”

  “Oh my gosh! I don’t even know where to start, except to say that Jett Masters can be my master any day of the week!”

  They both shrieked.

  “I want all the details. Starting with the very first kiss!”

  “That man does not kiss. He claims, with every single touch. God, Chloe! I’m giddy! Why didn’t you tell me you knew a sex god? And why haven’t you scooped him up? Or Daphne? I can’t even imagine how that incredible man is still single! But I’m so glad he is, because guess what?” She didn’t give Chloe a chance to answer and yelled, “We’re going to be friends with benefits!”

  “Wow! I’m so happy for you,” Chloe said, though she didn’t sound all that happy. “Is that what you want?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s perfect.” A text rolled in and she glanced at her phone, saw Jock’s name on the bubble, and decided to read it later. She popped to her feet and said, “No commitments. No worrying over feelings, or if he’s going to call, or any of that nonsense. I get to do my thing, and he does his. When he’s in town we’ll hook up. I’m going to be so busy getting the business ready to go for Harper’s productions, I won’t have time for dating. This makes it easy to have fun and focus on work.” As Tegan paced, she caught sight of Jett’s briefs sticking out from beneath the bed. The thought of him going commando made her stomach flutter.

  “Well, Jett’s certainly a great guy,” Chloe said.

  Tegan looked out the rain-streaked window at the trees bending with the wind, contemplating the hesitation in her friend’s voice. “But…?”

  “I don’t know if this means anything at all, but as long as I’ve known Jett, I’ve never seen him with a woman.”

  “Trust me, he’s not gay.”

  “I know that!” Chloe exclaimed. “I’m just thinking this through, playing devil’s advocate. If he asked you to be his fuck buddy, don’t you think he might have more buddies out there? Maybe it’s his MO. It would make sense. He travels all the time.”

  “Can you please call it friends with benefits? It sounds nicer.”

  “Okay, FWB it is.”

  “Thank you. I know this is going to sound weird, but it was my idea, and neither of us have had an arrangement like this before.”

  “Wow, really? You asked him?”

  “Yes, and honestly, I’m excited about doing this with him. It’s perfect for my life right now, and Jett isn’t just hot and amazing in bed. He makes me laugh, and you know how I feel about that.” Her uncle’s daily goal was to laugh as often as he could, and because of him, Tegan had always done the same. It was good for her soul and made the entire world look brighter, no matter what was going on around her. “It’s a good feeling knowing that once every few weeks I’ll have fun with a great guy. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t do this. Think about it, Chloe. No pining after a guy who inevitably messes up all the time.”

  “Or going through horrible dates with guys you meet on dating apps who say they’re smart and funny, but really they’re juvenile and dull.”

  “Exactly! See? You need an FWB, too!”

  “God knows I need something better than what I have. But you said every few weeks. Did Jett actually tell you that he comes here every few weeks?”

  “No. But his family is here, right? Didn’t you tell me that you, Dean, Rick, Drake, and I can’t remember who else grew up in Hyannis, or near there? Dean is Jett’s brother, so I assume Jett grew up with you guys, too. It seems like he’s close to everyone, so he must come back to see them.”

  “His family lives on the Cape, but he and his father aren’t very close. I don’t know the whole story, but things are tense there. And I don’t want to burst your bubble, but Jett comes to town only three or four times a year, and he stays for only a day or two.”

  “Oh.” Three or four times a year? She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it was definitely more than that. They’d gotten along so well, she’d been as excited about the friendship as she had about the sex. She tried to mask her disappointment and said, “That’s unexpected, but it’s not the end of the world.”

  “That won’t bother you?”

  “Of course not,” she lied. “That’s more sex than I’m having now, and I’ll have more time for work. I’m still making costumes for the princess boutique, and I’m doing Cici’s photo editing. I’ve got loads of stuff to do.” Cici, Tegan’s older
sister, was a photographer living in New York with her husband and their two young children.

  “And don’t count out meeting a real boyfriend,” Chloe reminded her. “Someone who can be there when you want him, not just when it’s convenient.”

  “You just told me that dating sucks.”

  “I never said I was giving up. Finding the right guy is hard.”

  “But finding a hard guy is easy,” Tegan said, and they both laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving that door open. We agreed that we could still have safe sex with others.” Her stomach twisted at the thought of Jett in bed with another woman. She tried to shove that thought away, but it hovered like a dark cloud, impossible to ignore. She closed her eyes, remembering what it had felt like when he was lying on top of her, inside her, saying dirty things. It worked. Her body tingled all over, wiping out the distressing thought of moments earlier.

  Except now she was turned on again, and that wasn’t good, either, so she said, “Tell me what you’re doing today, because I’m starting to miss having that man’s hands all over me.”

  “Oh boy, here we go…”

  “Shut up! You have no idea how incredible…Never mind. I can’t think about him or I get all hot and bothered, and I have work to do.”

  “You can always whip out your battery-operated boyfriend.”

  “You are not helping. Distract me, please. Just tell me what you’re doing today, or sing a stupid song, or something. Because if I don’t stop seeing Jett’s face, I’ll never get any work done.”

  “Don’t use his name, Teg. Trust me, it helps. Anyway, I have a very exciting day planned. I’m battening down the hatches. Have you been outside? The storm is heading directly for us, which reminds me. Justin is stopping by later to help me with my shutters. Do you want me to have him come by to help you?”

  Tegan pushed to her feet and headed downstairs. “Why does everyone think I need help? I’m fine.” She went into the kitchen, which was the size of half the house she rented in Peaceful Harbor. “What I need is breakfast.” She pulled open the fridge and scanned the nearly empty shelves. “And a trip to the grocery store.”

  “Stock up on water and food that doesn’t need to be cooked in case you lose power. This storm could get nasty.”

  Tegan grabbed a yogurt and tore it open. “It’s already nasty.” She pulled a spoon from the drawer and said, “But don’t worry, the grocery store is on my list right after I get my arms around some things for Harper’s productions.”

  “Everyone is excited for that to start.”

  “I am, too. I think it was smart to start with a small pilot program this summer and make sure we’ve got things under control before we go hog-wild. I just hope we can pull it off.”

  “You can, and we’re here to help if you need it.”

  “Thanks. I’d better get started. Please don’t tell anyone about my arrangement with Jett. I don’t mind the girls knowing, but it might be weird if the guys find out.”

  “Girlfriend, I hate to tell you this, but after last night’s mating dance, you and Jett have no secrets.”

  “Great. I guess I should have expected that. Wish me luck, then.”

  “You already got lucky. You should be wishing me luck.”

  “You don’t need luck. Justin’s gorgeous, he’s a great friend, and he’s coming to your house today. That’s a prime FWB op right there.”

  “I don’t do bad boys, remember? And look at you, pimping out the whole FWB thing like you’re an expert on the subject.”

  They both laughed, and they harassed each other for a few more minutes before finally ending the call.

  Tegan carried her yogurt down the hall toward her uncle’s office, where she’d worked on her ideas for the theater yesterday. As she passed the elegant living room, she became painfully aware of the burgeoning silence, broken only by the eerie sounds of wind whipping against the old manor house and rain slapping the expansive windows. Had the odd creaks and groans of the six-bedroom house always been there? In the past, when her uncle was napping or out with Jock, she heard his laughter in the silence, or his craggy voice telling one of his tales that always made her laugh. But now it was Jett’s laughter she heard, his deep voice masking the sounds of the storm. He was front and center in her imagination, as if he belonged there. As if he were invited by her uncle because he thought Jett’s laughter would make her happy.

  She pondered that thought as she entered his office. Her uncle’s presence was everywhere, too strong for even images of Jett to obliterate. She could still see Harvey sitting in his wheelchair behind the stately desk and herself sitting in one of the two plum-colored chairs across from him, mesmerized by everything and anything he said. He’d always seemed bigger than life, like it was he who belonged on his stage, even in his wheelchair. She remembered sitting on his lap when she was young as he read to her out of one of the books from the shelves that lined the wall behind the desk. She’d give anything to see him one more time, to hold his frail hand and listen to his beautiful stories about his beloved wife, Adele. Longing brewed dark and forsaken inside her. She glanced out the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows, which usually offered impressive views of the amphitheater, but it was too stormy and gray to see that far across the yard.

  She turned away, looking over the piles of her uncle’s things scattered around the room. She’d started to go through them, but when sadness had swamped her, she’d set them aside for another day.

  Today was not that day.

  She had no idea how she’d worked on her plans for the theater in his office yesterday, but there was no way she could do it today. She wondered if her encounter with Jett had sparked these raw emotions, but if anything, he’d brought renewed life into the lonely mansion. Maybe that’s it. His absence magnifies the silence.

  She didn’t know if that was why she felt lonelier now than she had yesterday, but she gathered her things and hurried to the kitchen, one of the only rooms where her uncle’s presence didn’t overwhelm her. It made sense, since he’d had a cook come several times each week to prepare and stock meals that Jock would later heat up for him.

  The kitchen was brighter than the rest of the house, with winter-white walls and light maple cabinets. There were fireplaces in almost every room, including the kitchen, which made it feel homey and old-fashioned, despite the newer finishes. She set up her supplies on the large kitchen island and table to begin mapping out her plan of attack, then realized she’d never read Jock’s message. She navigated to it on her phone and read his clipped response. Glad you’re fine.

  “Oh, Jock,” she said sorrowfully. It had taken years for Jock to confide in her about how he’d met her great-uncle at the lowest point of his life, after suffering the loss of his girlfriend and newborn baby. She’d never learned exactly how Jock had met her great-uncle or how Jock’s position as caretaker had come about. But she knew Jock had been a bestselling author before suffering the heart-wrenching loss, and he’d never gone back to writing. Jock had always said that her uncle had saved him, but her uncle had said they’d saved each other. Neither man had ever elaborated, and she’d never pushed. But in his will, her uncle had left Jock an old-fashioned typewriter and two million dollars that Jock would only be able to claim if he published something. Her uncle was a jokester, but he was also the most loving man she knew. She was sure that was his way of forcing Jock to get back to living his life for himself.

  But some things couldn’t be forced.

  Jock didn’t talk about his family much, but she knew they lived on Silver Island, not far from Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard, and ran the Top of the Island Vineyard. Tegan knew he had rarely gone home to visit over the past few years because of caring for Harvey full time, but she had a feeling there was more to it than that. She had met his parents, three sisters, and his brother Levi when they’d stopped by to visit him over the summers. But she had never met Jock’s twin brother, Archer. Once when she’d asked about how close Jock and Archer were, Jock ha
d made a comment that sounded like there was trouble between them. But he’d promptly changed the subject, and once again, she hadn’t pushed. He’d put his belongings into storage and left the Cape shortly after her uncle passed away. She’d asked if he was going home, and he’d said he didn’t want to burden his family with his grief. That worried her. She considered Jock family, and she could no sooner let him grieve alone than Jock could have let her uncle go without proper care. But Jock was a stubborn man, like her uncle had been. It was no wonder they’d gotten along so well.

  She decided to call Jock rather than texting.

  “You didn’t have to call,” Jock said when he answered.

  She heard the smile in his voice. “If you didn’t want me to call, you would have answered my questions.”

  “I’m good, Teg. Are you okay? I’ve been watching the weather. It doesn’t look good.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t forget to stock up on water. The freezer in the basement is big enough to hold…”

  As Jock detailed Storm Prep 101, Tegan thought about Jett doing the same. She wished they’d exchanged phone numbers so she would know if he reached Boston safely. God…She was doing exactly what they’d been trying to avoid.

  She forced herself to focus on Jock instead of Jett and said, “Jock, I’m fine. It’s a storm, not Armageddon. Where are you? In the States? Overseas? Are you okay?”

  “At the moment I’m sitting in a café enjoying a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper. You know what that is, right? Those things they made back in the day that stain your fingers?”

  “Ha ha, smart-ass.” Jock was an expert at circumventing questions. “Let’s forget the where and go with how. Are you trying to write?”

  “I am, and I’m staring at the same blank page. How about you? Have you fleshed out that business plan you’ve been thinking about, and putting off, all winter?”

  “I had a lot to take care of with my other businesses, but I’m working on it.” She leaned over a large piece of poster board and drew an enormous circle. “But we’re not talking about me. Have you reached out to your family? You were with my uncle all the time. You can finally spend some time with them. I bet they miss you.”