Bayside Fantasies (Bayside Summers Book 6)

by Melissa Foster

  Yeah, my entire family, and I don’t even see them that much. He kept that to himself and said, “Sure. My grandmother.”

  “That’s sweet. For me it was my uncle Harvey,” she said with a hint of sadness. “He passed away last summer.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He took her hand, guiding her down to a chair, and sat beside her. “You must miss him.”

  “You can’t imagine how much,” she said softly. “I spent a lot of time with him here when I was growing up. He had emphysema and was in a wheelchair for the last several years of his life.”

  “You mentioned Maryland at the café. Is that where you grew up?”

  “Yes, in Peaceful Harbor. I still live there, and so do my parents. I’m only here until fall. I’ve always loved coming here. My uncle made every day an adventure. He believed in laughter like other people believe in faith. He was very eccentric, as you can probably tell from the house—which, to answer your earlier question, I inherited along with his Lincoln Town Car, the Children’s Amphitheater, and enough money to never have to work again. I probably shouldn’t tell you that, because now you’ll want me for my money.”

  He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “You’re probably right. You shouldn’t tell people that. Especially men. We’re all dicks, just looking for a rich woman to pave our way.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Seriously, though, you should probably keep that under your hat. There are a lot of takers out there.”

  “I know, but I knew I could trust you. Everyone else does.”

  “You don’t strike me as a follow-the-crowd type of girl.”

  “I’m not usually, but I trust our friends. And honestly, my uncle taught me to trust my instincts. He never cared what anyone else thought about him or how he lived his life, and he instilled that in me. You might have noticed that I’m not a great dancer.”

  The truth rolled off his tongue effortlessly. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you on that dance floor.”

  “Because you wanted to get laid.”

  “Maybe, but don’t fool yourself. Your confidence on that dance floor was a better aphrodisiac than a bikini-clad model tied to a bed.”

  Laughter tumbled from her lips. “Wow, you’ve sure thought about that one, haven’t you? Moving away from that image…”

  She fanned her face, and he had to lean forward and steal a kiss.

  “Don’t think about it too long,” he said. “It’s an image I conjured as a teenager, and since it has never happened in real life, it stuck with me.”

  “Well, then, maybe one day we’ll have to play out that little fantasy.”

  “Damn, Tegan.” He took her hand and brushed it over his erection. “One sentence, and that’s what you do to me.”

  She bit her lower lip as he rose off the seat, adjusting his jeans while she giggled and nibbled on a cracker. As he sat down, she said, “You good? All situated?”

  “For now,” he said evenly. “Tell me more.”

  “Well, I think I’d wear a white bikini, to instill that whole innocence vibe—”

  He hauled her onto his lap and kissed her hard, but she continued laughing and wiggled off his lap.

  “I need food before I’ll let you have your way with me again.” She reached for another sandwich. “And as far as my fancy food goes, I love to eat…” She dragged her eyes down his body, making his blood sizzle. “But I’m not big on cooking.”

  “I think I need a drink for this conversation.” He got up and pulled open the fridge, taking out a bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade he’d seen in it earlier, downing it in a few swallows. “Have anything stronger?”

  “Perhaps. But if you can’t take the heat, maybe you should get out of the kitchen.”

  He sat down and said, “Oh, I can take the heat. Eat up, baby, because you’re going to need a great deal of sustenance to get you through the night. And while you’re tanking up, I want to hear more about the uncle who thought it was a good idea to drag you up to the Cape alone.”

  “I’m not alone. I have friends here now, and from what my uncle’s caretaker told me, my uncle believed this was where I belonged. Besides, it’s not like he forced me to come. He knew me better than anyone. He knew I loved challenges and adventures. None of that scares me, and that’s because of him. He taught me so much about confidence and taking life by the horns.” She took a bite of a sandwich and said, “I came to visit the first time I got my heart broken by a boy. I was twelve, and I thought my world had ended because this boy asked me to be his girlfriend the last week of school, then two days later broke up with me to go out with my best friend. Obviously she wasn’t a real friend. Anyway, I came here the following week, thinking my life was over.” She shook her head and said, “So silly. My uncle volunteered at a hospital then, and I went with him to see the kids. When we got home, there were all these targets hanging on trees with the boy’s name written on them, and buckets of water balloons in front of each tree. My uncle had set it all up for me as a way to get that boy out of my system, and it worked. By the time I was done, we were both soaking wet and laughing hysterically, and I could barely remember why that boy had seemed so special.”

  “Young boys are stupid, and young girls are sensitive. It’s a dangerous combination.”

  “Girls are stupid, too, and some boys are sensitive. But we all live through it.”

  “When I was a kid, I’d storm into the house furious about one thing or another, and my mother would tell me to take it out on the basketball court in the driveway.” He’d forgotten about that until just now. He’d also forgotten that when his father got home on those nights, he’d always taken extra time to throw a ball around in the backyard or pitch to him, so he could swing the bat until his arms grew fatigued.

  “Well, I don’t know much about your parents…” She paused, looking a little uncomfortable, and said, “Except that Chloe said you and your dad aren’t very close.”

  “Thank you, Chloe,” he said sarcastically. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his family.

  “Since you look like you’re ready to kill her, we won’t talk about that.”

  “Perfect,” he said, trying to ignore the burn in his gut.

  “My parents were always ushering me toward safety, in school, with friends,” she said lightly. “They pushed me to go into accounting or nursing so I would always be able to find a job. But at the same time, Uncle Harvey was whispering in my ear about life being too short to miss any adventures and to follow my heart wherever it leads.”

  “Sounds like my grandmother.”

  “Maybe it has to be that way. Our parents were doing what they thought was best for us, to protect us from failure or from being hurt, and other generations, who have lived through so much, know the value of enjoying life. Who knows? But when I have kids, I hope I can find a balance and help them follow their hearts in a way that’s safe. Anyway, getting back to my car, when I was afraid to drive, my uncle created an adventure for me.”

  She went on to tell him about her uncle baiting her to drive with promises of the magic of Cape Cod air and music. She mentioned a jewelry box he’d seen on her dresser upstairs. As she talked about her uncle and told the story, her eyes teared up. She was trusting him with cherished memories about a man she had loved and lost, and Jett wanted to take her tears away whether it was an appropriate feeling for an FWB or not. He took her hand, squeezing it gently, and moved closer so his knees rested on either side of hers.

  “When I returned home to Maryland, Berta was waiting for me with a big red bow around it and a card taped to the steering wheel that said, Roll down the windows and follow your heart wherever it may lead, but first get your parents’ permission.”

  “He sounds awesome.”

  “He was. I wasn’t allowed to take Berta on any road trips until I was eighteen, but on my eighteenth birthday, my older sister, Cici, and I packed our things, rolled down the windows, cranked the music, and drove from seven in the morning until
eleven at night. It was, quite possibly, the best day of my entire life.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “We drove to New York City, had lunch, and spent the day shopping and walking around. Cici loved the city even back then. She’s a photographer, and she’d wanted to live in the city since she was probably ten or eleven. She brought her camera and took tons of pictures.”

  “Is she the one you do photo editing for?”

  “Yes, for her and her husband, Cooper Wild, and his brother, Jackson, who are—”

  “Famous photographers,” he said, noting her modesty. The Wilds owned one of the most prestigious photography studios in New York City. “I did a photo shoot for a magazine and they were the photogs. Small world.”

  “I guess so. You must be a pretty important guy to have been in a magazine.”

  “Not at all. Tell me more about your road trip.”

  She looked at him quizzically, but she must have seen something in his eyes and understood that he didn’t want to talk about himself, because she said, “Oh, it was just a day trip. We didn’t have much money and couldn’t afford a hotel room. But it was my first taste of freedom, and it sparked my love of adventures. I’ve made it a point to go on a trip every year since, and I’ve gone to some really great places.” She finished the sandwich she’d started earlier.

  “You take road trips in Berta? From what I’ve seen, that sounds dangerous,” he said, reaching for a sandwich.

  “I took most of my road trips in Berta when she and I were both younger. She’s a little old to be rocking out on the highway like I do. Lately I’ve been traveling overseas. In the last few years I’ve gone to Ireland, Italy, Switzerland…”

  As she listed the places she’d traveled, he wanted to ask if she went with boyfriends, but that wasn’t an FWB-appropriate question. It bugged him that he wanted to know, since he’d never cared what the women he’d been with had done with other men, but he couldn’t quell his curiosity, and he asked, “Do you travel with Cici, or with your girlfriends?”

  “No. Cici has two kids now and, honestly, I prefer to travel alone. That way I can just pick up and go when my schedule allows.”

  She was even more impressive than he’d imagined, and she was brave. Although the idea of her traveling alone didn’t sit well with him any more than the idea of her traveling with men did. Not that he thought she couldn’t handle herself. He assumed she could, but a niggling of concern lingered.

  “I’m not a big planner,” she said, pulling him from those thoughts.

  He glanced at the messy table and the clocklike poster board drawing and said, “Don’t sell yourself short. Anyone who can make sense of all this has to be an excellent planner.”

  “Let me rephrase that. I’m not a big vacation planner in the sense that I know what types of things I want to see and do when I go away, but I don’t create itineraries or that sort of thing. But I’m good at planning in general. I just don’t go about it in a conventional way.” She waved to the papers and said, “Believe it or not, I made great headway today.”

  “I don’t doubt it. I mean, look at that clock drawing.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m only teasing. You’re a brave woman, Tegan, to travel alone, and to leave your family and your life behind to run a business that you’re still trying to get your arms around.”

  “I don’t know about brave. I’m just not afraid to try something that’s important to me. I really want to make this work, for my uncle, for Harper and her dream of putting on episodic productions, and for myself. This theater already touches so many lives, and we have a chance to reach many more people, to make it something adults also look forward to attending each year. I’ve always done my own thing, but it’s been on a small scale, which allowed me to have lots of flexibility and take time off whenever I felt like it. This will be very different.”

  “I wouldn’t call photo editing for the Wilds small scale.”

  “But it is. I work behind the scenes. I don’t take the pictures or meet the people who read the magazines and see the pictures that I edit online. There’s a big difference between photo editing and being the photographer. I’m invisible, and I don’t mind that at all. Cici and the guys are artists. But running the theater is an opportunity for that to change. I can carry on my uncle’s legacy by not only running the business, but also being part of it. Attending the shows like my uncle did, meeting the actors, greeting the children and their parents, and taking part in the luncheons we hold afterward. When I attended productions with my uncle, each one was a fantastic event all its own. The actors were greeted with fanfare, buffets were plentiful, and the children’s enjoyment was contagious. That’s magical. I want to be part of that magic. And that’s not all. Harper wants to bring her romcoms to live theater in episodic form. No one else is doing that with live theater. It’s exciting. She even got an offer from Trey Ryder, the guy who runs the Movietime channel, to live stream the performances for big bucks. He said it was going to be the next big thing. But Harper turned that offer down. She didn’t want to lose any artistic control or have to deal with television cameras at the productions.”

  “Wow. That’s a huge deal to turn down. Do you realize how much of a gold mine you’re talking about spearheading?” His mind had already taken off in fifteen different directions to help her succeed.

  “For Harper’s sake, I hope it is. Neither of us cares about the money, though, beyond making enough to live on.”

  “Why not? I know you have your inheritance, but why not shoot for the stars?”

  “The money left to me is my uncle’s. I will continue to earn my own keep, because that’s what I believe in. Harper and I want to keep the productions special and sort of homey, so people feel like they’re coming to visit old friends. We both feel like once people focus on money, they forget the little touches that make projects special and the reasons they started the business in the first place.”

  He chewed on that for a minute and realized how right she was. His driving forces were more profit oriented now than ever. He’d built his business helping smaller companies find their way, and nowadays he rarely put his energies into those buckets, because the profits were insurmountably bigger with larger investments and acquisitions.

  “But she didn’t close the door on Trey,” Tegan said, bringing him back to their conversation. “He’s still waiting in the wings, ready to make another offer if we do well and decide to move in that direction. But I doubt we will. It’s not about the money, like I said. The idea that I can be part of something so cutting edge and exciting, right here on the Cape where my uncle lived and loved, is beyond incredible. I love the work I do, but this? This will fill me up in ways I never imagined possible. If I can pull it off.”

  Her excitement reminded him of himself when he’d first started his own business. He’d been full of determination, driven to be the person who not only helped business owners find their niche, but also guided them to surpass their expectations, taking them to unimaginable heights and experiencing the ride right along with them. He’d far surpassed that.

  It had been years since he’d felt the thrill of building something from an idea, as Tegan was, and he knew that it had as much to do with her as the challenge at hand.

  TEGAN WAS RAMBLING, and she felt a little silly for sounding like her head was in the clouds to a man who was supposedly married to his business. Though she wasn’t really sure what business he was in. The business of making money hadn’t given her any real clues.

  “Let’s change that if to a when and get started,” he said.

  “Let’s? As in together? Because I can do this, you know.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but if you’re open to suggestions, figuring out how to make companies succeed is my specialty.”

  She sat back and crossed her legs. “Is that so, Armani? Tell me about it.”

  “There’s not much to tell. I’m an investor with varied expertise. Venture capitalist endeavo
rs, real estate, corporations. I take companies apart and rebuild them so they can achieve maximum success—”

  “Well, I don’t want my uncle’s company taken apart. The children’s productions pretty much run themselves, even if by archaic means. I’m planning for the new side of the business with Harper.”

  He cocked his head, looking mildly amused. “If you’d let me finish, I would have said that I didn’t always take them apart. When I started investing, I partnered with small businesses instead of taking them over and worked with the owners to help develop winning business strategies and put them into play.”

  “And you probably took most of their profits, too. I shouldn’t have told you about my inheritance. Thank you, but I’m not interested in giving away money when I can do this by myself.”

  He frowned, his jaw clenching. “Do you really think I’d take money from a woman I’m sleeping with?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “Because I’m not a dick.” He sat back with a sigh. “We’ve got one night together before I take off, and as much as I want to spend every minute of it tangled in the sheets with you, the spark of excitement in your eyes and your determination to get this endeavor off the ground is even more alluring than the promise of an orgasm.”

  “Why?” she asked skeptically. “Because you think I can’t do it alone?”

  “No. Jesus, Tegan. You’re clearly capable or your uncle wouldn’t have left you with such an immense responsibility.” He leaned forward and took her hand in his, holding her gaze as he said, “These last few years I’ve leaned toward large acquisitions, doing more of the taking over and restructuring I mentioned. I think it’ll be fun to work with you and to get back to the nitty-gritty of launching a business. If we’re half as good at doing this as we are in the bedroom, we’ll have time for both business and pleasure.”

  A loud crack followed by a house-shaking thud brought them to their feet.

  “What was that?” Tegan panicked as they ran to the windows. She’d gotten so caught up in their conversation, she’d forgotten about the storm.