Bayside Fantasies (Bayside Summers Book 6)

by Melissa Foster

  “How was Harper’s party?”

  “Jock. Have you at least reached out to Archer? He never came to visit you when I was here.”

  “Teg, drop it, okay?”

  “It would help if I knew what we were dropping.”

  He was quiet for a long moment, and then he said, “He doesn’t want to hear from me. Next subject?”

  “Are you at least going to see your family when we’re on Silver Island for Harper and Gavin’s wedding?”

  There was another long stretch of silence.

  “Jock…”

  “You never answered me. How was the party?”

  “Next subject,” she teased, and he chuckled. “Well, if you’re not writing or with your family, you should come back and stay here with me. This was your home for more than a decade, and I’m lonely here.”

  “Even with all the friends you’ve made?”

  “I don’t mean here at the Cape. I mean in the house, on the property. Besides, I could help you find writing inspiration and you could help me with the business.”

  “I can’t be there right now, Tegan. It reminds me of how much I’ve lost.”

  She sighed, unable to argue with that. “Tell me about it,” she said softly.

  “You don’t have to carry on your uncle’s legacy. He wanted you to be happy, and he said you were meant to find your happiness at the Cape.”

  “He said that?”

  “Many times. That’s why he gave you a reason to be there. But you don’t have to stick with it. He’d never want you to be lonely.”

  “I know. I just miss him. I want to make the theater work and I want to carry on his legacy. I believe in the same things he did, paying it forward and spreading joy. It’s just this huge, lonely house that has me in a weird place. I’m working in the kitchen,” she admitted. “And I’d better get back to it, actually.”

  “Is your fridge full? Do you have candles?”

  “Jock, please stop acting like an overprotective brother. I’m a big girl.”

  “A lighter? Wood for the fireplace?”

  “Goodbye, Jock.”

  “Tegan, I’m serious. New England storms are monsters compared to what you’re used to.”

  “I’m saying goodbye now, but I love you and wish you were here.”

  “I love you, too, Teg.”

  “Then come back.”

  “If I can’t be overprotective, you can’t nag.”

  “Whatever. I worry about you.”

  “Let’s get back to the things you need to have on hand for the storm.”

  “Ugh! Goodbye!” She ended the call feeling happy at having heard his voice.

  As she pushed up her sleeves and picked up a pen, her phone vibrated with a text from Jock. She opened and read the message. You could find a boyfriend to keep you company. She wiggled her shoulders thinking about her new FWB situation. Who needed the headaches that came with boyfriends when she had Jett?

  She thumbed out a response. No time for a bf. I’ve got a business to plan. She set down her phone and went to work with thoughts of Jett dancing in her mind. There was no better motivation to get the job done than knowing that after two weeks of hard work she’d be rewarded with a night or two of hard Jett.

  Chapter Seven

  THE THUNDEROUS ROAR of the waves echoed in Jett’s ears as he flew through the front door of his cottage at Bayside Resort, trailing water all the way to the bedroom. Wind and sheeting rain had slowed traffic to a crawl. The normally short drive from Brewster to Wellfleet had taken Jett more than an hour. He grabbed his suitcase from the closet, tossed it on the bed, and shoved his clothes into it. He heard the door to the cottage open. Shit. He didn’t have time for long goodbyes.

  “Jett?” Dean called out.

  “Bedroom closet,” he hollered as he put his suit in the garment bag.

  Dean’s coat and hat were drenched, and he had a pinched look on his face.

  “It’s a shit show out there, and I’m late.” Jett zipped the garment bag and said, “I’ve got to get to Boston.”

  “I’ve been calling you all morning. Tia called me trying to track you down. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  Jett ground out a curse and pulled his phone from his back pocket. “I turned it off last night and forgot to turn it back on.” He fired up the phone and it vibrated like a nymphomaniac’s sex toy. He’d missed five calls from Tia, a handful from his clients, and one call from his brother Doug. “Tia’s going to slaughter me.”

  “Wait. You turned your phone off?” Dean asked as Jett pushed past him with the garment bag. “And forgot to turn it on?”

  Jett was too busy grinding his teeth to respond. He’d been so fucking caught up in Tegan, he’d forgotten everything else: the phone, the time, the calls he’d needed to make that morning, and the reports he’d hoped to review before the flight. He tossed the garment bag on the bed and began scrolling through Tia’s messages, most of which were warning him about the impending storm.

  “You must have had a hell of a night with Tegan.” Dean squinted, reaching for Jett’s coat pocket. “What’s that?”

  Jett looked down as Dean pulled something red from his pocket. His brother dangled—a red lace thong?—from his fingertips with a laugh.

  “Damn, bro. I’ve known you my whole life and never realized you were a trophy guy.”

  “Give me that.” Jett snagged the thong and shoved it back in his coat pocket. He hadn’t taken the thong, which meant Tegan had put it there. Holy hell, that’s hot.

  “That explains a lot. I guess you two hit it off.”

  “Yeah, she’s great,” he said as he hurried into the bathroom to gather his toiletries.

  Great didn’t even begin to describe what he thought of Tegan. He’d spent the first half of the drive back to Bayside fighting the urge to say fuck it, turn around, and drive right back to her. He’d spent the second half of the drive convincing himself not to. But he wasn’t about to start spouting off about how amazing she was. That would make him as messed up as he’d been that morning, and he couldn’t afford to be sidetracked. He had a plane to catch.

  “So why are you running off?” Dean crossed his arms, staring Jett down as he came out of the bathroom with his toiletry case. “There’s a fricking storm blowing in, and you’d rather risk your life to run away than get stuck seeing a woman for a second time?”

  “Cut the shit, Dean. Business doesn’t stop because of a little storm.”

  “Actually, it does. But you don’t, do you?” Dean followed Jett as he stalked into the living room to grab his computer and briefcase.

  “I don’t know why you’re so pissed off, but I don’t have time for this.” He put his laptop in his briefcase and headed back into the bedroom.

  “I’m pissed because for the first time that I can remember, something came before work in your life, and you’re acting like she was nothing.”

  Jett gritted his teeth. He was irritated enough for allowing himself to get so caught up in a woman. He didn’t need his brother hammering him, too.

  “Tegan is our friend,” Dean said. “She’s going into business with Harper, and hopefully she’ll be around for a long time. You can’t screw her over and leave us to clean up the mess.”

  Jett set down his briefcase and closed the distance between them, anger boiling inside him. “When have I ever left you to clean up my mess with a woman? For that matter, when have you ever seen me hook up with someone around here? You know I don’t fuck with women’s heads.”

  “That’s my point,” Dean said, drawing his shoulders back.

  Jett was on his last nerve, and it was fraying fast. “What’s your fucking point, Dean? Spit it out clearly or I’m going to miss my flight.”

  His phone rang with Tia’s ringtone, and when he reached for it, Dean said, “I know what your messes look like, Jett. You may not have left this particular kind of mess before, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see the writing on the wall.”

  “
There’s no mess, Dean. I know how to handle women.”

  “Mom’s a woman. If you handle Tegan anything like you handle her, then I’d better bring tissues.”

  Jett’s phone stopped ringing, and he stifled another curse. “I know I let Mom down, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  “Do, Jett. Everything I do for her.”

  As if Jett needed a reminder of the guilt he lived with? Jett couldn’t keep his voice from escalating. “When you had trouble with Dad, who had your back? Who dropped everything to be here for you when shit hit the fan?”

  “You did.”

  “Damn right I did,” he fumed. “Don’t act like I don’t do shit for this family. I might be severely lacking in the time department, but there’s so much damn water under the bridge, it’s all I can do to tread water.”

  “I know,” Dean said a little less angrily. “I get that. All I’m saying is, if you gave half the amount of time to your family that you do to your clients, maybe you wouldn’t be so stressed all the time.”

  “I’m not stressed all the time. Coming here is stressful.”

  Dean’s eyes narrowed.

  “Not because of you. It’s hard to be away from my office, that’s all.”

  “That’s all…?” Dean nodded, with a sorrowful look in his eyes. “You’ve got friends and family here who love you. Maybe one day you’ll realize that just because you look like Dad doesn’t mean you have to act like he used to.”

  Jett’s phone vibrated with another text, giving him a reason to avert his eyes from the painful truth in Dean’s. It was from Tia. Call me!

  “You’re a great guy, but your priorities are seriously fucked up.” Dean glanced out the window and said, “I’ve got to get shit done, too. Have a safe flight.”

  Jett ground out a curse as Dean left the cottage, and he called Tia.

  “Are you okay?”

  The panic in Tia’s voice only reminded him of the mistake he’d made. “I’m fucking perfect. Sorry for worrying you.”

  “What happened? Did you lose your phone?”

  “No. I turned it off.”

  There was a long silence.

  “Tia, you there?”

  “I’m picking my jaw up off the floor.”

  “Christ, not you, too. What’s the story with my flight?”

  “What’s the story with turning off your phone? Did someone have a gun to your head?”

  “No.”

  “Ah, a knife then?”

  The amusement in her voice made him chuckle. “I was with someone. Now can we drop it?”

  “No effing way! There’s only one woman who could get you to turn off your phone. I didn’t know Mila Kunis was in town. How’d you score that action? Kill off Ashton Kutcher? Oh man, I’d better get my sister to find you a criminal attorney, stat!” Tia’s older sister, Aida, was an entertainment attorney.

  “Are you done?” he asked flatly.

  “Not even close. I wonder if she was silently critiquing you, comparing you to her husband. Did she accidentally call you Ashton? What’s she like? Sweet and sassy, or was she everything you hoped for? Naughty, nice, and down to party?”

  “Can you be done busting my balls now, please? I don’t get on your case about the guys you go out with.”

  “No, you just have them followed and report all their dirty deeds to me,” she said sarcastically.

  “Someone’s got to watch out for you.” There was only one reason Tia wouldn’t be freaking out about his flight, and as that reality sank it, it pissed him off. “My flight was canceled, wasn’t it?”

  “If you’d had your phone on last night, I could have gotten you on a night flight. But you had to go get your freak on.”

  He laughed. “Enough, Tia.”

  “I want her name so I can sic Reggie Steele on her.” Reggie was a private investigator whom they’d used several times over the years.

  “Not happening.”

  “You’re a buzzkill.”

  “I think she’d disagree.” He looked at his bags and thought about spending another night with Tegan. His cock cast its vote with an excited twitch. They’d had amazing chemistry, and he wanted to know more about her. And that…was dangerous.

  Therein lay his answer.

  As enticing as Tegan was, Jett needed to tackle the work he’d put off and get started on the due diligence for the Carlisle deal. If he drove into Boston and worked at the airport while he waited for a flight, he could review the reports and make the calls he hadn’t made that morning. “Tia, when can you get me out of here?”

  “Did you not hear the message about the storm heading for the Cape? Or did she literally fuck your brains out?”

  She did. “When? Tomorrow?”

  “Hopefully. I’m on it, but you’d better keep your phone on this time so I can reach you, even if you can’t keep your pants on.”

  “Enough, T.” Tomorrow. He’d put the hours in now, get his work done, and leave at the crack of dawn to get to the airport. “I’ll be right here working with no distractions, phone on, nose to the grindstone.”

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, with his vehicle packed and ready to go, Jett was still trying to get his nose to that grindstone, but thoughts of Tegan continued to distract him. He’d returned his brother Doug’s call. Catching up with him was a pleasurable fifteen minutes, during which they talked about Doug and his wife’s station overseas. Their station changed with each assignment. They didn’t talk about their parents, and since Doug came home only once or twice a year, he didn’t resent Jett the way Dean seemed to. After speaking with Doug, Jett called his grandmother Rose to check on her, hoping that maybe she could help take his mind off Tegan. They talked weekly, and she could usually take his mind off anything. But today even his funny, sweet grandma Rose couldn’t thwart his thoughts from Tegan, though he was glad she was safe in the storm.

  After the call, he glanced at his coat, thinking about the red lace thong Tegan had put in his pocket. He’d never forget how beautiful and sexy she’d looked last night when he’d stripped off her black thong and she’d stood nearly naked before him, save for her choker and boots, wearing confidence like a second skin. He had no idea when she’d had time to sneak that tempting piece of lingerie into his pocket, but the fact that she had was a major turn-on.

  His phone rang, and The Kid flashed on the screen. Jett had wondered how long it would take him to reach out. He answered the call and said, “Hey, kid, how’s it going?”

  “Can’t complain. I just got back from two weeks in Bali with the redhead I met last summer. I told you about her. Likes to surf, owns a bar in Manhattan?”

  Zack was always boasting about one woman or another. Jett couldn’t keep them straight, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk about the kid’s sex life, especially when he couldn’t stop thinking about his own, so he said, “Sure. Glad you had a good time.”

  “Good time doesn’t even begin to describe how great the trip was. It’s amazing what sunshine and a good woman can do for your spirit. Anyway, now that I’m well rested, I’m ready to crush the competition for Carlisle Enterprises. Just thought I should call you first, you know, give you a chance to back out gracefully, save your reputation.”

  Jett chuckled, imagining the twenty-seven-year-old pacing by the windows of his Manhattan office, dreaming about being as successful as Jett was. Jett could buy and sell Zack many times over, but Zack was an excellent businessman and a smart investor. With his drive and determination, he’d make his own mark on the world—even if it wouldn’t be by crushing Jett. “I see you still have those stars in your eyes.”

  “A wise mentor once told me that if I didn’t strive to be the best, I was just wasting everyone’s time.”

  “Sounds like a smart guy. Let me know when you’re done dipping your toes in the investment pool and are ready to give up the ladies and wild nights to play with the big boys.”

  “You mean give up my life?” Zack laughed. “Never gonna happen, man. You mi
ght need to give up those things in order to sit on your throne, but that just means I’m a better businessman. See ya in the trenches, Jett.”

  “Have fun in those trenches, kid. I’ll be the man on the throne.”

  As he ended the call and pocketed his phone, a loud crack of thunder boomed, sounding like it was right outside the cottage. The storm had become white noise when he was thinking about Tegan, but now the sounds of wind and rain—and shouting—traipsed in. He grabbed his coat—giving the pocket with the lingerie a little squeeze—and went outside to investigate.

  Dean and Rick were hustling toward the supply shed.

  Jett ran into the driving rain after them and hollered, “What’s going on? Need a hand?”

  “A tree fell on the gallery!” Rick shouted over the wind.

  Shit. The girls. “Everyone okay?” His mind raced to Tegan. There were trees all over her property. He could kick himself for not getting her number so he could check on her.

  “Yeah,” Rick said. “I won’t let Des leave the house in this weather, and Vi and Andre were in their cottage.”

  “We can definitely use a hand. Streets are flooding, causing all sorts of trouble for retailers,” Dean explained, weeding through keys for the one to the shed. “Drake and Serena took off to help in town. Violet and Andre started to get the artwork out of the gallery, but there is a ton of it. We need to cut the branches off and clear the roof so we can tarp it.”

  As Dean unlocked the shed, Rick said, “What about your flight?”

  “Canceled. Tia’s trying for a later one.” He followed them into the shed.

  “I thought you had work to do,” Dean said with a bite of tension.

  Jett held his stare. “I got a verbal ass kicking from my whiny brother. I’m not about to make that mistake again. You need me. I’m here to help.”

  Dean handed him a chain saw. “Think your delicate hands can handle real work?”

  “You mean after I kick your ass?”

  They loaded supplies into the back of Dean’s truck, and as they drove next door, Jett asked if anyone had checked on Daphne and Hadley. Thankfully, Dean had, and they were safe and sound in their apartment above the office.