Bayside Fantasies (Bayside Summers Book 6)

by Melissa Foster

  “Jelly fish!” Joni exclaimed when she saw Tegan. She set down the tray and barreled into Tegan’s legs, giving her a big hug. “We’re feeding the workers. Why are you here?” She looked up at Jett as he approached and said, “Hi, Diego!”

  “Um, hi,” Jett said, looking confused.

  “Diego’s a character in Dora the Explorer, a kid’s show,” Tegan explained.

  Joni grabbed Jett’s hand, tugging him toward the food truck. “Dad’s making food for the workers. You can help if you’re not grumpy. Dad says there’s no time for grumpy today.”

  “I’m in a pretty good mood,” Jett said. “I can help for a few minutes, but then I have to go check on my parents to make sure they’re okay.”

  “Where are they? At the zoo with the monkeys?” Joni asked.

  “Probably.” Jett looked over his shoulder at Tegan, holding up one finger and mouthing, I can’t say no to her.

  That was a far cry from the stressed-out guy who had walked into the café with the phone pressed to his ear and had ignored Joni.

  He climbed the steps of the food truck and was greeted by Rowan. Jett shook his hand, motioning toward Tegan. Rowan waved as Joni ran to her again.

  Joni took Tegan’s hand and said, “You can help me pass out food while the doodlybutts make more.”

  Tegan loved that her doodlybutt couldn’t say no to Joni any more than she could.

  IT TOOK FOREVER to reach Hyannis after they left Rowan and Joni, and Jett was inundated with phone calls on the way. Tia was coordinating his business trips for the week and had rearranged his Chicago meeting to take place in his LA office instead, and he fielded a half-dozen calls regarding Carlisle Enterprises. A typical Monday.

  “Sorry about that,” he said gruffly, annoyed by his last conversation, as he exited the highway. He needed to get his ass to his LA office.

  “It’s okay. You put off your flight because of me. I don’t expect you to let your business fall by the wayside.”

  He scoffed. “There’s no chance of that happening. I might have one of the best financial teams in the industry, but nothing happens in my company without my approval. I’ve got my fingers on the pulse of every deal.”

  “Okay, then…Tell me what I need to know about your parents.”

  He thought about her FaceTime conversations with her parents. Her father was a world away from his. “My mother is great. She’s warm, outgoing, and steady. My father runs one of the most prestigious neurosurgery practices on the East Coast. He’s used to throwing money around and expecting the world to bend to his will.”

  “Sounds challenging.”

  “You could say that.” He wondered how his brothers would describe their father. Would they describe only the man their father had recently become? Would Dean relay the truth—the good, the bad, and the horrid? Their father had moved out for a while when they were growing up. Doug had never carried the anger over their father’s leaving that Jett and Dean had, and he’d lived overseas for so long, Jett wasn’t sure how well he even knew their father anymore.

  He was so used to pushing away thoughts of his father, it took no effort to do it now, as they drove into Hyannis. When he came home to visit, he was usually on the phone on the way to and from the airport and in and out of town so quickly, he didn’t notice his surroundings. But now the devastation of his hometown couldn’t be ignored. His old stomping grounds looked like a scene out of a doomsday movie. Trees were snapped in half, taking down power lines and closing streets. Branches and debris littered sidewalks and yards. Store windows were broken or boarded up. Part of a roof was torn off a strip of retail shops, and people were carrying boxes out to the sidewalk.

  “Holy cow. There’s so much damage,” Tegan said. “How far is it to your parents’ house?”

  “Not far.” Jett navigated to the residential streets, circumventing a tree that had fallen across a road and crushed a parked car. Fences were down, streets were flooded, playsets were broken, and a trampoline lay sideways in a yard. He hoped he hadn’t assumed wrong about his parents being okay.

  He turned down the street on which he’d grown up. His massive childhood home came into view, and it looked intact. Even with that relief, his gut roiled in the way it had on visits home for as long as he could remember.

  He stopped at the entrance to the long driveway. His father’s black Lexus was parked in front of the house. Jett’s muscles flexed, readying for a battle. It had been a long time since he and his father had verbally sparred, but old habits were hard to break. He wasn’t proud of the fact that he couldn’t just let the past go, but trust was Jett’s most precious commodity—in business and in his personal life. Trust was to be respected. Once broken, well, that was a whole different ball game.

  “Wow.” Tegan’s eyes widened. “This is where you grew up? It’s gorgeous.”

  He knew she probably saw a stately three-story home perched atop the hill at the end of the long driveway, with a circular drive and three-tiered stone gardens. Even stark from winter the gardens gave the house an aura of elegance. But to Jett, his childhood home was a reflection of the man his father had been. It would always look like a bully—an ostentatious ass among a neighborhood of modest homes.

  He started down the driveway, but Tegan said, “Stop!”

  Jett slammed on the brakes. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just…” She wrinkled her nose and unhooked her seat belt. She got up on her knees and leaned across the seat, putting her face right in front of his, and stared into his eyes.

  “Tegan—”

  She silenced him with the press of her lips. Then her hands were in his hair, her tongue delving deep and hungry in his mouth. She moaned, pressing her body against his, making him hard as steel. He pressed his foot harder on the brake pedal, his arms circling her, quickly becoming lost in her exquisite mouth and the sweet sounds she made. By the time their lips parted, they were both breathless.

  She studied his face for a moment before saying, “That’s much better. You no longer look like you want to kill someone.”

  As she settled into the passenger seat, he tried to get his foggy synapses to fire. He looked down at his erection, then met her amused gaze and said, “And you think looking like I want to fuck you is better?”

  “Much,” she said lightly, and motioned for him to drive. “Go on.”

  By the time he parked in front of the house, those old uncomfortable feelings settled back in. Only this time they weren’t quite so all-consuming. But his parents came out the front door as he helped Tegan out of the vehicle, ratcheting up his discomfort once again. Jett straightened his spine, squaring his shoulders like a plebe readying for inspection. They were dressed in coats and boots, as if they were going somewhere. His mother’s eyes widened as they descended the steps, a happy little gasp escaping her lips. His father’s eyes narrowed, shifting from Jett to Tegan.

  Jett’s protective instincts surged. What the hell had he been thinking bringing her here? He stepped forward, creating a barrier between his father and Tegan.

  “Jett! I thought you left town already! What a wonderful surprise.” His mother pulled him into her arms and kissed his cheek. She smelled like almonds and summer, just as she always had. She was tall and slim, with silver hair that framed her face. She’d always been beautiful, and even now, with wrinkles and laugh lines, she was still radiant. She patted Jett’s cheek as his father stepped beside her, and she said, “You look good, baby. Was your flight canceled? Or do we have your beautiful friend to thank?” She set a hopeful gaze on Tegan, who was beaming at his overzealous mother. Before Jett could respond, she said, “Hello, darling. I’m Sherry, Jett’s mother.”

  “Hi. I’m Tegan.” She stepped around Jett and hugged his mother like they were old friends. Then she turned her attention to his father and whistled. “Now I know where Jett gets his commanding presence from. Look at you, all Pierce Brosnanish with your sharp blue eyes and slicked-back hair.” She patted his father’s chest
and said, “You make me want to go home and put on my best dress.”

  His father’s gaze lowered to her hand on his chest, and his brows lifted. Jett moved swiftly, putting a hand on Tegan’s shoulder and pulling her back to where he stood. He lowered his hand to her waist, keeping her close.

  “Tegan, is it?” his father said, not unkindly.

  “Yes, sir. Tegan Fine.”

  “Please, no sir necessary. Call me Douglas.” His father offered his hand.

  Douglas? His father had always gotten off on titles as a form of respect. He’d never once heard his father utter the words no sir necessary. As Tegan shook his hand, Jett tried to make sense of the man before him. Any minute now his father would start the inquisition, asking Tegan what she and her parents did for a living, where her family was from, and generally sizing her up.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” his father said. “And for the record, you look beautiful in your jeans and boots, so you can keep that best dress put away. Although with this weather, we might need boats instead of boots.”

  “I know, right?” Tegan said.

  Jett’s eyes darted to his mother, who nodded almost imperceptibly, as if she was confirming this new, lighter side of his father.

  “Son,” his father said, standing a little more rigidly. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

  And there it was. The discomfort and formalities they were still unable to move beyond. “Dean and I couldn’t reach you, and we were concerned.”

  “Our phones have been down all day,” his mother said. “But at least we have power. Janie came over a little while ago and said Mitchell might have to close the market for much of the season because of water damage.”

  “Oh man.” Jett turned to Tegan and said, “Janie and Mitchell Myer live next door. They own the Corner Market. It’s been in their family for generations.”

  “Jett worked there throughout high school,” his father said. “To this day Mitchell says he was the hardest-working teenager he’d ever employed.”

  “He’s always been a hard worker,” his mother said. “Jett, I’m sure you’ve checked on Rosie?”

  “I did, and she’s fine.”

  “That’s good,” his mother said. “This storm was a doozy.”

  “We’re heading into town to see how we can help,” his father said. “Would you like to join us? Put those muscles to work?”

  “You’re going to help?” The words came out before Jett could think to stop them.

  His father held his gaze, jaw tight. “Yes, Jett,” he said evenly. “Mitchell’s been our neighbor for decades. I operated on his daughter’s brain tumor. He employed you at a time when you were ornery as a bugger, and—” His mother touched his father’s arm, and in an instant, his father cleared his throat and lowered his eyes for a beat. When he lifted them, a humble expression appeared, and he said, “I’m grateful that Mitchell gave you a chance and provided an outlet for your drive and determination.” He shifted his focus to Tegan and said, “Even when he was a kid, Jett wanted to be the best at everything. He joined every sports league and worked when other kids were out goofing around. I swear my son was gone more than he was home.”

  Avoiding you, Jett thought wryly, with a side of guilt. There was no end to the emotional battering.

  “I bet the apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” Tegan said cheerily.

  Jett sure as hell hoped it had.

  “What do you say?” his mother said. “Do you have time to help?”

  “Sure, we can help. We have all day,” Tegan said excitedly.

  Great. He’d imagined a quick hello and then getting the hell out of there. Now he was stuck. “We’ll follow you over.”

  “Wonderful!” his mother said.

  They climbed into their respective vehicles. The second Jett settled into his seat, Tegan said, “Did you bring a knife?”

  “Why would I bring a knife?” He started the engine and followed his father’s car.

  “We need something to cut through the tension between you two.”

  He grinned, shaking his head. “I warned you.”

  “Yes, you did. Now spill, Armani. What am I dealing with here?”

  “We’re not going there,” he said sternly.

  “Oh, yes we are. Women talk, you know, and I’d rather hear it from you than from the girls.”

  “Seriously…?”

  “Look, it is what it is,” she said. “Not everyone has an easy upbringing. Was your dad physically abusive?”

  “What? No.” He glared at her.

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of if he was.”

  “Tegan, he wasn’t.”

  “What, then? Did he push you too hard to be the best? Because everyone says doctors are the worst when it comes to that.”

  “He pushed us all, but that’s not what caused the issues.”

  “Then what was it? Was he mean to your mom?”

  Jett swallowed hard, remembering the cutting tone his father had used toward his mother in the weeks before he’d moved out. And later, after their grandfather had passed away and the weight of the entire medical practice had landed on his father’s shoulders. But if he was going to survive the next few hours, he couldn’t afford to drown in dark memories. He needed to end this conversation.

  “He left us when I was a kid,” he said too sharply. “He took off for a few months, okay? Can we drop it now?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Was there…someone else? Another woman?”

  Jett gritted his teeth. “No. Can we drop it, please?”

  “Sure, but you’re so bottled up. I just want to help.”

  No one can help.

  “He came back, right?” she asked carefully. “I’m just trying to understand. I mean, it’s obvious that you tweak each other’s nerves, but he seems to be trying. He said some really nice things about you.”

  “Yeah, ornery bugger is real sweet.”

  “In all fairness, I’ve known many teenage boys, and that seems spot-on for most of them.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “You mean the dose of reality?” she countered. “They were raising three boys. There had to be trying times. Your mom is awesome, by the way. I bet she knew just how to handle three wild sons. Did you notice the way she touched your father’s arm and how he immediately let his guard down? That speaks volumes about how much she loves him and the strength of their relationship. I can tell he really trusts her.”

  “There’s no doubt she loves him. Always has.”

  He followed his father into town, once again struck by the post-storm chaos. The parking lot of the Corner Market and the neighboring stores was flooded and blocked off. Several branches on the trees along the street were dangling like loose teeth ready to be yanked free. Jett glanced down the street to the dental office, where crews were working on fallen power lines. He parked by the drugstore, watching people pushing water away from the entrance with brooms. These businesses were the hallmarks of his youth, and now their lives were completely upended. It was one thing to hear about storms on the Cape while he was busy spinning deals thousands of miles away. But seeing the impact like this brought his past rushing back. The Corner Market was where he’d first discovered his love of business, and the dental office was where Lacey McGuire had worked when he was a kid, a pretty hygienist who had stirred his first real crush. She’d been in her late twenties, and he knew now how ridiculous he must have appeared, ogling her and trying to act cool in his basketball shorts and high-tops. He’d bought his first box of condoms at that drugstore. Man, he’d been nervous, waiting until there was almost no one else in the store before sauntering up to the register like he was an old pro. He’d thought he’d gone under the radar. But when he’d asked to borrow the car for a date that weekend, he’d endured a thirty-minute lecture from his father on responsible dating and respecting women. He’d learned a valuable lesson that day.

  Never buy condoms in town.

  He’d also lear
ned that his father had eyes and ears everywhere. That night Jett had vowed to be just as powerful as his father when he grew up. That promise had gone right beside the more important one that he’d made years earlier, when his father had moved out—that he’d never be as weak as his father was.

  Now, as Jett turned to Tegan, the woman who barely knew him but had offered to be there for him without hesitation, he remembered those promises. It was a good thing he was leaving tomorrow. She didn’t deserve to be caught up in his family drama.

  He softened his tone and said, “I appreciate you coming along and wanting to help, but maybe some things are too broken to ever be fixed.”

  “He must have really hurt you,” she said sweetly. “I’m sorry for whatever you went through. If you ever want to vent, I’m a pretty good listener.”

  “I appreciate that, but I think this is crossing an FWB line, Tegs.”

  She pushed open her door and said, “Maybe you’re right. I’m sorry. I just suck at watching friends suffer.”

  As they climbed from the truck and his parents approached, a new layer of guilt suffocated him.

  “Why don’t Tegan and I go find the ladies to see where we can be of the most help, and leave you and your father to do the heavy lifting?” His mother sidled up to Tegan and said, “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get to know each other better, and you can tell me all about you and Jett.”

  “We’re just friends, Mom.”

  His mother waved dismissively, and as she and Tegan walked away, Jett heard his mother say, “So, how did you come into my son’s life?”

  “Tegan’s a spunky one, like Emery. I like her,” his father said as they headed around to the front of the building. “In my day, I wouldn’t have let a woman like that get away.”

  Jett stopped walking and turned on his father. “Look, I’m here, and I’m happy to help. But in my eyes, you have only ever been with Mom. So please don’t try to turn today into something it’s not. We’re not buddies.”

  His father bristled. “I was referring to your mother.” He lowered his voice to an icy tone and said, “There has only been your mother in my life since the day I met her. I understand you are determined to condemn me to hell for leaving all those years ago, and that’s your right. But if you think for one second that I’m not going to keep trying to show you I’m a better man now than I have ever been, you’re sorely mistaken.”