“Sarah’s making it so much cooler,” Marissa said before he could answer. Her expression lit up at the mention of her mentor.
“Sarah?” Carolyn asked with a frown. “As in, Sarah Lewis?”
Wes nodded. “She inherited the place. Plans to sell it.” He scooped the casserole onto his plate.
“Wasn’t she that young girl who tutored you all throughout high school?”
Carolyn’s memory was incredible.
“Yeah,” he said, forking the food into his mouth and ignoring her look that said she wasn’t completely thrilled about some aspects of this situation. Years ago, Carolyn had suspected that Sarah had a crush on him…
What would she think if she knew he’d almost given in to the urge to kiss Sarah? Or that he found himself attracted to the woman? He’d never been serious about another woman since Kelly, so how his in-laws would feel about him dating someone had never really been a factor. But what would they think, how would they feel if he eventually found someone and settled down again?
“Sarah used to tutor you and now she’s mentoring me? You never told me that,” Marissa said. “That’s so cool!”
Carolyn glanced at Marissa. “Mentoring you?”
Wes heard the concern in Carolyn’s voice, but obviously Marissa didn’t catch it.
“Yes! She’s helping me with my app and with a secret project,” she said with a grin his way.
Wes did his best to send her a smile, but the food stuck in his throat.
“That’s interesting,” Carolyn said, moving her food around her plate.
His father-in-law didn’t look like he was even listening to the conversation, but Dustin was sending him a look. One he couldn’t quite decipher, but his head nod toward his mother meant Wes needed to say something about the situation.
Wes cleared his throat. “The renos are almost done. Sarah will be leaving soon.”
Carolyn nodded, looking slightly relieved. “Of course. I remember she was always so eager to leave town. I can’t imagine anything would make her want to stay now, not even that old inn,” she said as she resumed eating.
Not even the old inn.
Wes glanced at Marissa, and his daughter’s disappointment had his uneasiness growing. His mother-in-law might be eager to see Sarah leaving town again, but his daughter sure wasn’t.
Unfortunately, Wes couldn’t determine where exactly he fell on the spectrum.
…
Themed rooms were cliché and, thank God, her grandmother had thought so, too. It made repainting the B&B guest rooms a lot easier when Sarah didn’t have to worry about painting over Western or Hollywood Night themes, like other inns along the coast boasted.
Every room in Dove’s Nest was decorated in the same nautical colors and accents. Seafoam-blue walls with white baseboards and trim, black-and-white pictures of local surfers tearing up the waves, a uniquely handcrafted surfboard in the corner that duplicated as a full-length mirror, and seashell-decorated dispensers in the bathrooms.
Simple and old-school elegance. Or at least they used to be and would be again.
The walls were chipped and some of them stained from years of allowing smoking inside, but the decorations still held up, and the cosmetic work wouldn’t take more than a few nights to finish.
Sarah stood in the middle of the first room, already prepped. Painting tarps covered the floor, and blankets were draped over the furniture. Even the edges along the door and window frames and along the ceiling and baseboards were taped, thanks to Wes’s work crew.
She shuffled through her iPad for appropriate painting music. The problem was, she couldn’t define her mood. Since being back in Blue Moon Bay, her world had been an emotional roller-coaster ride—the death of her grandma, deciding to renovate the inn, and her growing attraction to Wes had her turned completely upside down, as though the ride had stopped mid-rotation on a loop.
Would she fall to her death? Or survive the cyclone of indecision and uncertainty?
And despite her best attempts at resisting, she was being drawn back to that journal. She was desperate for more answers about who this Jack guy was and just how much he’d meant to her grandmother, but she was also terrified to read any further. How many journal entries were written to him? Had her grandfather known about this man from her grandmother’s past?
She tried to remember as many details as she could, but all she knew was that her grandfather had returned from serving in the war and the two had fallen in love while her grandmother was working in a factory in San Francisco. During wartime, women had stepped up to fill in jobs that the men had vacated. They’d gotten married quickly, her grandmother had returned to running the B&B, and that was it.
But that wasn’t it. Not even close.
One true love…
Was her grandmother right? Was there just one person out there destined for someone else? Sarah had never felt the same pull of attraction for anyone the way she always had for Wes…but he’d been happy with someone else. If soul mates were a thing, how was that possible?
She sighed. She was being ridiculous. Letting the nostalgia of being at the inn and the secrets she’d discovered in the journal get to her.
She’d definitely be opening it again, but fear of what else she might discover that she wasn’t ready to learn gave her pause. For now.
Hitting shuffle on the iPad, she tucked it into the pocket of her faded, ripped jeans. Her favorite pair that she’d been clinging to far past their life span. They were like her comfort blanket—the ones she turned to when she just needed to relax. She tied her hair back into a high ponytail and got to work.
Opening the seafoam-colored paint, she stirred it until the consistency was just right and poured it into the rolling tray. She’d painted her bedroom in her family home countless times as a teenager, new inspiration demanding new vibrant colors as frequently as her changing hormonal mood swings.
So she had a little experience with a rolling brush.
She dipped it into the paint and started on the far wall, covering the patches of white where Wes’s crew had repaired dents and holes.
Humming along to a hip-hop track, she swayed her hips as she worked, feeling better with the completion of the first wall. Things had come together a lot faster than she’d expected. Dove’s Nest would soon look like a brand-new inn.
But what secrets were these walls hiding?
“Not bad.”
She shrieked and jumped as she spun around to the sound of the voice. Her hand flew to her chest, where her heart threatened to break through, and she yanked the earbuds from her ears. “Jesus, Wes. Trying to kill me?”
He laughed. “Sorry. I knocked and rang the doorbell for, like, ten minutes; then I started to worry about you…”
Her cheeks warmed. “How did you get in?” She’d locked all the doors downstairs.
“Yeah, we may need to put a new lock on the front door,” he said, clearing his throat.
“You broke in?”
“I was coming to your rescue,” he said, entering the room.
She cocked her head to the side. “And what were you going to protect me from? Spiders? Dust mites? Hard work?”
“Asks the woman who was stuck in a staircase weeks ago,” he said, shooting her a pointed look.
“Touché,” she said. “But why are you here anyway? I thought you were enjoying a free night out while Marissa was with her grandparents?”
He was wearing old jeans, ripped at the knees and already speckled with multicolored paint, and his black T-shirt had a hole in the collar—obviously old working clothes. But his hair was gelled in a spiky mess, he’d shaved his usual five-o’clock stubble, and a faint smell of cologne lingered on the air, competing with the scent of wet paint. Obviously, he’d been intending to go to Trent’s Tavern that night.
Why the change of heart?
<
br /> He entered the room and handed her a coffee. “I did go out, but then I felt guilty that you were here working alone, so I went home and changed, and here I am.”
Needing to hide her overly pleased expression, Sarah took a sip of the coffee and nearly choked on the taste of a strong liqueur.
“Wait, that one’s mine. Spiked.”
“You think?” She handed the cup back to him and accepted a new one.
“So you gave up a night out to work?” She struggled to hide her pleasure as she studied him. He looked even hotter than usual, and her pulse raced. She’d refused the offer to join him at the bar, so as not to complicate things or risk encouraging the growing sexual tension between them further, and yet here he was.
“Yeah… Though it looks like you have things under control.” He looked around the room. “What were you rocking out to a few minutes ago?”
A few minutes? “How long were you standing there, creeping on me?” And God, what dance moves had she busted out? She didn’t claim to be the most graceful person on the planet, and there had definitely been some ill-timed hip thrusts. Oh jeez, would she ever not come across as awkward and goofy in front of him?
“Long enough.” Wes picked up an earbud and put it in his ear.
A twangy country song about broken hearts now played from the other one dangling at Sarah’s chest. Great. Of all songs, a swoony country ballad?
But Wes closed his eyes and started singing along, off-key…and not exactly the right words.
Sarah looked at him with amusement. “You know this song?”
“It’s my anthem these days. Girl left me, truck keeps breaking down, and dog ran away.”
Her eyes widened. “Your dog ran away?”
He laughed. “Okay, two out of three.”
She held out a hand, and he gave her back the earbud. She hit Pause on the music. “Really, what are you doing here?”
“Told you, I’m here to work.” He set his spiked coffee on the dresser, moved to the middle of the room, and opened a new roller and tray.
“You didn’t have to…” She was glad he did, but having him there, having him choose helping her over a night out, had her feeling all kinds of emotions she had no business feeling.
“Sarah, I’m here. I want to be here,” he said, his gaze burning into hers until she could barely breathe on the thick air surrounding them. He cleared his throat. “Any plan of attack I should know about?” he asked, pouring more paint into the tray.
“Yes. Get it done,” she said in as bossy of a tone as she could muster. He’d come back to help her. He’d given up a rare night out. She wouldn’t read anything into it. She’d practically guilted him into it. And he probably just wanted more billable hours…
“I like it,” he said, getting to work on the opposite wall.
A long beat of silence fell between them before she asked, “So is running your own construction company everything you’d hoped it would be?” She dipped the roller in paint and started on the wall adjacent to him.
“My dream was football,” he said, the longing in his voice after all this time surprising her.
Guess dreams didn’t just evaporate when reality shat all over them. Sarah remembered Wes’s desire to go pro. In fact, one of her best memories of Blue Moon Bay was watching their high school team, the Panthers, play on Friday nights. Wes was a wide receiver, and seeing him out there on the field in his gear had set her teenage hormones ablaze. “At least you got to do what you loved for a little while,” she said.
“Yeah, I mean, a lot of athletes don’t even make it that far. And this career works,” he said quickly. “I make my own hours, which is great for raising Marissa. I’m the volunteer dad at school.” He laughed as though he’d never have believed it if he weren’t living it.
“I’m sure the volunteer moms love that,” Sarah said before she could stop herself. “I…just mean, having a dad in the class.”
I will not flirt with him.
Marissa may have been trying to set up the two of them, but they’d both resisted…which had to mean something, right?
But when he grinned, the gorgeous dimples in his cheeks made her vow that much harder to keep. Why did he have to be so good-looking? Teenage crushes should at least have the decency to age poorly. What she wouldn’t give for the ability to say, Phew, dodged a bullet there. Instead, she’d launch herself in front of this particular sexy bullet given the opportunity.
“So, is there anyone special you’ve left behind in L.A.?” he asked, his tone casual, but she detected a definite curiosity.
“Nope. Not even a friend with benefits,” she said honestly. Maybe a little too honestly, but truth was, her sex life was practically nonexistent. She worked far too much for a real relationship, and hookups might be the cool thing these days with dating apps on everyone’s phones, but she wasn’t interested in swiping right unless it had the potential to be more than a one-night stand. As much as she put her faith in technology for all other aspects of her life, she wasn’t sure it was the way she wanted to find someone. Whenever she did decide to make time for it.
“Hell, if I’d known you were sexually frustrated, I’d have let you take the sledgehammer to that kitchen wall last week.”
She swiped at him with her paint roller, narrowly missing his arm. Then cautiously she asked, “Do you think you will ever be ready…for another relationship?”
Asking for a friend.
“Somedays I think so. Other days, I’m not sure. Marissa and I have a good life together. We’ve figured out how to make things work just the two of us. I’m not sure I’m still actively grieving Kelly, but a part of me definitely died with her, and unless I can give someone else the full love she deserves…” He shrugged.
Sarah had let the roller drop to her side as she’d listened to his rare moment of open vulnerability, and now seafoam paint covered her thigh.
What was she supposed to say to that?
“Sorry, that got deep. Fast,” Wes said with a laugh.
“No, I get it.” She did. And despite the pull she’d always felt toward him, it was enough to ground her in the reality of their situation. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on, and she had no idea how she felt. Her life was far too complicated at the moment to think about a relationship, but she was starting to think she wanted one. Finding love had always taken a back seat to her career, but she’d hoped as she neared thirty, her career would be established and she could turn her attention to other aspects of life.
Maybe once she got this promotion…
“I worry about Marissa,” he said, and he sounded reluctant to confide in her, but also like he was sensing she might be the perfect person.
“About what?” she asked carefully.
“We used to be so close.” He shook his head. “Now I feel like I don’t even really know her sometimes.”
Sarah bit her lip, unsure what to say. She didn’t want to overstep again or cross any boundaries. The family’s dynamic was none of her business, but he was opening up to her, so she had to say something, right? “I think you’re both just very different people, and maybe it might help if you tried to understand her world a little,” she said gently.
He nodded. “I’m not sure I’m smart enough for her world. All that coding stuff you told me went in one ear and out the other, but I have been trying lately,” he said, attacking the wall with the roller. “I just don’t get why she doesn’t want to play sports and hang out with friends…actual friends, like she used to.”
Sarah had dealt with the same issue. Her parents never fully understanding her… She could never get them to understand. Could she help Wes for Marissa’s sake? “Maybe don’t try so hard to put her into a box she doesn’t want to fit in.”
He stopped and turned to face her. “You think that’s what I’m doing?”
“I don’t kn
ow, but I think your relationship would be easier if you gave her some space to be her own person.”
He frowned, and Sarah tensed. Too far. She should have minded her own business.
But then he nodded. “You’re absolutely right,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I’m messing this up, aren’t I?”
He looked wrecked, and Sarah reached out and touched his shoulder. It was meant as a comforting gesture, but the intense, immediate shock that radiated through her core at the contact had her body reacting. She could see her pulse vibrating in her wrist and her mouth was dry.
Wes’s gaze met hers, and he looked as conflicted as she felt.
Nope. Nope, nope. This was definitely not the time… The guy just admitted he wasn’t sure he was ready for another relationship. Things between them were complicated, and there was Marissa to think about…
But his gaze fell to her lips, and she could see his breath pick up with the heaving of his chest. So she hadn’t imagined things the week before. Wes Sharrun did want to kiss her.
As if on autopilot, she dropped the roller and moved toward him, her body not listening to any of her mind’s warnings. Standing on tiptoes, Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.
Wes hesitated only a second before his arms went around her body, pulling her against him. She closed her eyes and sank into him, enveloped in the manly scent of his aftershave and savoring the taste of sweetened, spiked coffee on his lips.
Her fingers tangled into the back of his hair and she deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth.
His grip tightened at her waist, and then his hands slid higher around her ribs as he held her close to his body. Eager, hungry lips and hands—his and hers—frantic, unthinking, they explored and caressed until she could barely breathe.
She didn’t want air; she just wanted him—his kiss, his touch…
She was kissing her high school crush and he was returning it with as much passion as she was giving. No kiss had ever felt this intoxicating. No touch had left her craving more the way his did in that moment. Nothing else mattered right now. Just years of unrequited feelings mixed with weeks of chemistry and sexual tension came out of her in a whirlwind of pure emotion…zero logic.
A Lot Like Love Page 8