She slid her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his chest.
“Okay, big guy. Take me home.”
If she only knew what those words coming from her while dressed in that outfit did to him. As he’d done for too many years to count, he bit back his desires and walked her back to her room. He pulled her room card from his pocket, and it dawned on him that he always carried Amy’s stuff. Her keys, her wallet, her phone. At some point, his pockets had become her pocketbook.
Tony held the door open for Amy and kept one hand on her hip as she walked unsteadily past him.
He closed the door and took in her hotel room. Standard upscale fare, it looked like his room, with a king-size bed, a long dresser and mirror, and a decent-size sitting area. Amy’s perfume and lotions were lined up neatly on the dresser, along with her birth control pills, which made his gut twist a little. He didn’t want to think about Amy having sex with anyone. Well, except maybe him, but—
“Hey.” Amy reeled around on him, stepping forward in those sky-high heels. He didn’t need to inhale to know that she smelled like warm vanilla, a scent that haunted him at night.
She wobbled a little, and instinct brought his hand to her waist. He’d held Amy in his arms a million times, comforting her when she was sad, carrying her when she was a little too drunk to be steady on her feet. He’d cared for her when she was sick and sat up with her after each of her girlfriends had fallen in love, when she simply couldn’t handle being alone. He had a feeling those nights were their little secrets, because he’d never heard Bella, Jenna, or Leanna ever make reference to them, and those girls talked about everything. Now, as she stepped closer and touched his stomach with one finger and looked at him like she had years ago, not like the sweet, too-good-to-be-true Amy that she never strayed from around him unless she was drinking, he found himself struggling to remain detached enough to keep his feelings in check.
He forced himself to act casual. “What’s up, Ames?”
She trapped that lower lip of hers again, and his body warmed.
Amy stumbled on her heels and caught herself against his chest. She slid her hands up the front of his shirt, and his body responded like Pavlov’s dog. Amy had that effect on him, but he’d always been good about keeping it under wraps. What was happening to him? Was it the romance of the impending wedding? Watching his best buddies whisper and nuzzle their fiancées while he had walls so thick around his heart that he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to move forward and love anyone else again?
She gazed up at him with naive curiosity in her eyes, and it was that innocence that threatened his steely resolve. It almost did him in every time they were alone together. Only this time she had the whole hips-swaying, breasts-pushing-against-him thing going on.
Christ. He covered her hands with his and breathed deeply. With those heels, they were much closer in height. A bow of his head and he could finally taste her sweet mouth again.
With that selfish thought, he pressed her hands to his chest to keep them from roaming and to keep himself from becoming any more aroused. She gazed up at him, looking a little confused and so damn sexy it was all he could do to squelch his desire to take her in his arms and devour her.
“What do you need, Ames?”
“I’m pretty sure you know what I need,” she said in a husky voice as she pressed her hips to his.
You don’t mean that. You’re just drunk. He clenched his jaw against his mounting desire. She was all he ever wanted, and she was the one person he knew he should walk away from.
“Amy.”
“Tony.” Her voice was thin and shaky.
“You’re drunk.” He peeled her hands from his chest. She got like this when she was drunk: sultry, sexier, eager. As adults, she’d never taken it this far. She’d made innuendos over the years, but more in jest than anything else. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew Amy cared about him, but he also knew she sometimes forgot things. Important things. Life-altering events that were less painful if forgotten. He was certain it was why she drank when they were together and why he’d spent years protecting her. Not that she needed protecting often. Drinking was a summer thing for Amy, and really, she rarely drank too much. She didn’t drink when she wasn’t at the Cape. He knew this because over recent years, after Amy had graduated from college and settled into her business, he’d begun texting her more often. He’d been unable to ignore his need for a connection to her any longer. He could count on one hand how many times she’d made reference to drinking.
“I might be a little drunk.” Her sweet lips curved into a nervous smile. “But I think I know what you want.”
What I want and what I’ll let myself have are two very different things.
He exhaled, took her hand, and turned toward the bed. “Sit down and let me help you get out of your heels and then I’ll go back to my room. I don’t want you to break your ankle.”
She swayed on her heels and attached herself to his side again. “I don’t want you to go to your room.”
Tony stepped back. The back of his legs met the dresser. “Amy—”
“Tony,” she said huskily, taking him by surprise.
“Ames,” he whispered. She was killing him. Any other man would have silenced her with a kiss, carried her to the bed, pushed that damn sexy-ass dress up to her neck, and given her what she wanted. But Tony had made a career out of resisting Amy, protecting her. He respected her too damn much to let her make a mistake she would only regret when she sobered up.
He gripped her forearms and held her at a safe distance.
She narrowed her eyes and reached for his crotch.
For a breath he closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the feel of her stroking him in ways he’d only dreamed of. Every muscle in his body corded tight as he reluctantly gripped her wrist.
“Amy, stop.” He’d learned his lesson with her when he was a teenager, and he was never letting either of them go back to that well of hurt. “We’re not doing this.”
The dark seductiveness that had filled her eyes when she was touching him was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Her shoulders rounded forward, and hurt filled her eyes.
“Why?”
He felt like a heel. A prick. A guy who should have taken her to bed, if only to love her as she deserved to be loved. Even if she might not remember or appreciate it in the morning. He draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her into a hug.
“Come on, Amy. You’re drunk and you won’t remember any of this tomorrow. Let me help you get ready for bed.”
“Don’t you want me?”
Her broken voice nearly did him in, and when her arms went limp, he tightened his grip on her. “Amy,” he whispered again.
In the space of a few seconds she pushed away from him, determination written in the tension around her mouth and the fisting of her hands.
“Tell me why you don’t want me. What is it? Am I too flat-chested? Too unattractive?”
“No.” Fuck. You’re the sexiest woman I know. Anger felt so wrong coming from her that it momentarily numbed him.
“I know I suck at seduction, but don’t these fuck-me heels or this stupid dress turn you on? Even a little?”
“Your fuck-me heels? Boy, you are drunk. You don’t realize what you’re saying. Come on.” He reached for her hand and she shrugged him off again.
“Goddamn it, Amy. Let me help you.” Before I give in to what I really want and lay your vulnerable, gorgeous, sexy body beneath me and devour you.
“So that’s it. I don’t turn you on.” She paced the room on wobbly ankles, looking like she was playing dress up in her mother’s high heels—and it did crazy things to Tony’s body. He followed beside her in case she stumbled, fighting the urge to give in and show her just how much she turned him on.
“Maybe if I had bigger boobs, or if I were better at acting sexy, or if I were smarter, you’d want me.”
It surprised him that she avoided the secret they’d buried so long ago, but
then again, after that summer, she’d never said another word about it. And he’d let her get away with that, believing it was the only way she could survive what had happened. Just like him.
“Amy, it’s none of those things.” He did not want to have this conversation with her. He wanted to fold her in his arms and kiss the worry away.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Hell. Tony could handle a lot of things, but Amy’s tears melted his heart, and that he’d caused them was further proof he wasn’t the right guy for her.
“Then why, Tony? Just tell me once and for all. Why don’t you want me? I need to know so I can decide about taking this job in Australia.”
Tony opened his mouth to answer, but his thoughts were jumbled as he processed what she’d said. “Australia? I thought you said you weren’t taking it.”
She crossed her arms, and he hated knowing it was to protect herself from his rejection. Tony felt like an asshole, but he knew that taking Amy up on her seduction would only dredge up bad memories and lead to hurting her. They’d spent a lifetime denying the past between them existed, even to themselves.
“I said I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.” She dropped her eyes to the floor, and he slid a hand in hers, as he’d done a million times before. It was a natural reaction. Taking care of her. Protecting her. Helping her feel safe. He knew it could send her mixed messages, but he just couldn’t help himself. His hand had already claimed its spot with hers.
“You’d give up everything you’ve built to run Duke’s resort? You’d move to Australia?” He had nothing against Duke Ryder. But the idea that Amy would change her life to help him just pissed Tony off.
She sank down onto the bed and buried her face in her hands.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and when she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip and kissed the top of her head.
“Amy, you’re sexy, smart, and everything a guy could want.”
She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her damp eyes. He felt like the biggest prick on earth, and at the same time, his own heart was fighting tooth and nail against the space he was trying to maintain between them.
“Christ.” He scrubbed his hand down his face. “You are all those things, Amy, and so much more, but…”
“But you like me as a friend.”
He’d never seen so much hurt concentrated in one person’s eyes, and even if he had, it wouldn’t have compared to seeing it in Amy’s. He touched his forehead to hers, and he did the only thing he knew how to do without doing irreparable damage to their friendship.
His lie came in a whisper. “No. I love you as a friend.”
He loved Bella, Caden, and the others, goddamn it. What he felt for Amy was so much bigger than friendship, it threatened to stop his fucking heart.
She didn’t say a word, just nodded, and Tony knew in that moment that she wasn’t drunk enough to forget what he’d said by the morning—and he almost wished she were.
(End of Sneak Peek)
To continue reading, be sure to pick up the next
LOVE IN BLOOM release:
SEASIDE SECRETS, Seaside Summers
Full LOVE IN BLOOM SERIES order
Love in Bloom books may be read as stand alones. For more enjoyment, read them in series order. Characters from each series carry forward to the next.
SNOW SISTERS
Sisters in Love
Sisters in Bloom
Sisters in White
THE BRADENS
Lovers at Heart
Destined for Love
Friendship on Fire
Sea of Love
Bursting with Love
Hearts at Play
Taken by Love
Fated for Love
Romancing my Love
Flirting with Love
Dreaming of Love
Crashing into Love
THE REMINGTONS
Game of Love
Stroke of Love
Flames of Love
Slope of Love
Read, Write, Love
SEASIDE SUMMERS
Seaside Dreams
Seaside Hearts
Seaside Sunsets
Seaside Secrets
Seaside Nights
Seaside Whispers
Seaside Lovers
Seaside Embrace
HARBORSIDE NIGHTS
Includes characters from
Love in Bloom series
Catching Cassidy
Discovering Delilah
Tempting Tristan
Chasing Charlie
Breaking Brandon
Embracing Evan
Reaching Rusty
Loving Livi
More Books by Melissa
Chasing Amanda (mystery/suspense)
Have No Shame (historical fiction/romance)
Love, Lies & Mystery (3-book bundle)
Megan’s Way (literary fiction)
Traces of Kara (psychological thriller)
Where Petals Fall (suspense)
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Acknowledgments
As a sister to six amazing brothers, writing The Bradens is one of my greatest joys. Being a sister has its complexities. Finding a middle ground between being strong enough to compete with them (and do I ever love to compete!) and allowing myself to be girlie is an ongoing effort. Not just with brothers but in life. I think all women encounter this type of situation on some level, and I hope Emily’s story resonates with each of you. I love receiving your emails and messages on social media, so please keep them coming, and let me know how you liked Emily and Dae’s story. You inspire me on a daily basis.
If you’d like to find out more about passive houses, Adam Cohen, founder of Passiv Structures and Passiv Science, is an expert in the field. You can find him online at www.PassivScience.com.
I’d like to thank Kristen Weber for “The heart is not a rational organ.” That’s her line, which she shared with me when we were discussing Emily’s transformation. Kristen, I treasure your time and your guidance. Thank you. I’d like to also thank Lynn Mullan, Alessandra Melchionda, and Silvestro Silvestori for sharing information about Italy with me, and Doug Bralsford (Bralsford Ltd.) for reaching out and referring Silvestro.
My editorial team and proofreaders make my work shine with their superb skills. Thank you: Kristen Weber, Penina Lopez, Jenna Bagnini, Juliette Hill, Marlene Engel, and Lynn Mullan. Thank you, Natasha Brown, for the gorgeous cover, and Clare Ayala, for formatting my work.
As always, love to my family for allowing me the joy of writing.
Melissa Foster is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. Her books have been recommended by USA Today’s book blog, Hagerstown magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café, and when she’s not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success. Melissa also hosts Aspiring Authors contests for children and has painted and donated several murals to the Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC.
Visit Melissa on her website or chat with her on social media. Melissa enjoys discussing her books with book clubs and reader groups and welcomes an invitation to your event.
Melissa’s books are available through most online retailers in paperback and digital formats.
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