Bayside Heat

by Melissa Foster

  “Check out Kane’s Donuts!” A young guy handed them a flyer with mouthwatering pictures of doughnuts and a coupon for twenty percent off.

  “Where is this?” Serena asked. “We have to go there!”

  Drake kissed her again. “That’s the look of surprise I adore.”

  He was stealing so many kisses, acting like they’d always been a couple, and Serena realized, in many ways, they always had.

  The guy gave them directions to the doughnut shop around the corner. The aroma of cinnamon, chocolate, warm pastries, and coffee surrounded them.

  Serena moaned, clutching Drake’s arm. “I want to bathe in this smell.”

  His eyes darkened, and he pressed his cheek to hers, speaking in a rough voice. “I’ll fill your bathtub with doughnuts. You bathe in it, and I’ll lick you clean.”

  He gave her neck a little bite, sending sparks skittering through her.

  Oh boy. How was she going to eat now?

  “Hey there, lovebirds,” the pretty blonde said from behind the counter as she set a tray of powdered doughnuts behind the glass display. She wiped her hands on her apron and set one hand on her hip, flashing a friendly smile. “What can I get you?”

  Her warm blue eyes swept over them as they drooled over the delicious-looking options. Drake didn’t hesitate, ordering for both of them.

  “We’ll take two iced coffees, a Chocolate Orgasm, and a Boston cream doughnut.”

  “I like a man who knows what he wants. For here or to go?”

  “To go, please,” Drake said, pulling Serena against his side. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before noon.”

  Serena read the description of the Chocolate Orgasm. The name alone was enough for her to get excited, but the description—a decadent chocolate-cake-style doughnut filled with rich, creamy chocolate pudding, dipped in Hershey’s chocolate syrup, and rolled in crushed chocolate cookies—had her licking her lips.

  “Ah, tourists, huh?” the blonde said as she carefully put the doughnuts into a bag.

  “I just moved here from the Cape.” Serena nudged Drake. “Which means Drake’s the tourist.”

  After she made their coffees, they followed her down to the cash register. “Well, I’m Abby. I hope you’ll come back often. It’s nice to get to know new faces.”

  Drake paid and said, “I have a feeling you’ll have a hard time getting my girlfriend to stay away.”

  Serena’s heart skipped at girlfriend. It sounded even better coming off his lips than she’d imagined.

  “A fellow sugar fiend,” Abby said. “I look forward to seeing you again…?”

  “Serena,” she said. “And this is Drake.”

  “Enjoy your orgasm,” Abby said, and then she went to help another customer.

  As they left, Drake tugged Serena closer and whispered, “Silly baker put a hole in the middle of the Chocolate Orgasm instead of giving it a creamy center. Guess that means I get to dip my chocolate in your cream.”

  Heat spread through her chest at his naughty innuendo. “How do you know I want the Boston cream doughnut?”

  His scruff hit her cheek again, and in a voice that nearly melted her panties off, he rasped, “Because you told me to ‘do it’ last night. My girl likes a creamy mouthful.”

  She gasped, and he chuckled.

  “See what happens when you unleash the beast? Too much for you, Supergirl?”

  “Never.” And now all she could think about was him doing it.

  Half an hour later, Serena was still riding a sugar-and-Drake-high as they explored Faneuil Hall Marketplace. It was like they’d walked into another world, full of colorful shops, brick-and-stone courtyards, and historic buildings, all of which gave the area a festive feel. They moved with the crowds, shopping and checking out kiosks.

  “This reminds me of a bigger, upscale Provincetown,” Serena said. “Only different.”

  “I like how you relate places to home.” He looked over the heads of the people around them, leading her through the crowd to a kiosk selling sunglasses. He chose a pair of bright purple shades and put them on Serena. “Now, that’s high fashion.”

  She glanced in the mirror, beside which was a pair of green sunglasses and a straw hat. She snagged them both and put them on him. “Are you ready to hit Palm Springs, darling?”

  They tried on several pairs of funky sunglasses, teasing each other and being silly, and finally bought matching gold-framed glasses. Hers had pink lenses and his had blue. At the next kiosk, Serena bought a hair clip and put her hair up in a messy bun to get sun on her shoulders. Drake immediately claimed the bare skin with a series of scintillating kisses.

  They moved from one shop to the next, and when they rounded one of the three main shopping buildings, they came upon street performers.

  “Let’s watch!” Serena dragged Drake toward a couple doing acrobatics in the middle of a crowd. A short distance away, a man hung upside down wearing what looked like a straitjacket.

  “Look!” She headed that way.

  Drake laughed. “You’re like a little girl in a candy store.”

  “I can’t help it. This is so fun.” She was mesmerized by the escape artist manipulating his way out of the restraints. The crowd cheered, and she clapped and bounced on her toes. She turned toward Drake to hug him and realized he’d been watching her, not the show.

  He lifted her off her feet, smiling into their kisses. When he set her back on her feet, he kept hold of her, gazing into her eyes with a look she felt rather than read. It was like he was seeing more of her than anyone ever had.

  “What?” she asked tentatively.

  “It feels good not to have to hide when I want to look at you or touch you.”

  Did he have any idea how much that meant to her? “You sure do know how to make a girl walk on air,” she said as she wound her arms around his neck. “Now kiss me before I climb you like a tree.”

  And he did.

  Thoroughly.

  Just as she felt herself walking on air, he pulled out his phone and checked the time, making her painfully aware of their morning together coming to an end.

  HAVING LOST TRACK of time, they had to hurry. There were so many things Drake wanted to say and do, but suddenly words evaded him. On the walk back to Serena’s apartment, he tried to ignore the pang of longing already forming in his gut. He contemplated backing out of the sailing trip with Hagen in order to stay with Serena a few hours longer, but he couldn’t do that to his nephew. But leaving Serena also felt like the wrong thing to do. They’d only just come together. He’d lived practically every day of the last four years with her by his side. Five days apart seemed like an eternity, and he hadn’t even left yet.

  When they crossed the harbor, she thanked him again for driving up from the Cape, and he heard a hint of sadness in her voice, tugging at his heartstrings even more. By the time they reached her block, they were holding each other tighter, walking slower, as if they could delay the inevitable. He wondered when he’d become such a wimp that he couldn’t push the heartache away. She’d opened Pandora’s box, and the trouble was, he didn’t want to close it, or push any of his emotions aside any longer.

  Across the street from her apartment building, a group of people were playing music on the grass. Serena’s eyes lit up and she opened her mouth, like she was going to say something. In the next breath, the light in her eyes dimmed. He knew she was worried about time. He had to leave right away, but there was no way he’d leave without a smile on his girl’s face.

  “Come on,” he said, and headed across the street.

  She hurried to keep up. “You can’t be late for Hagen.”

  “I’ll drive fast.”

  They stepped onto the sidewalk and crossed the lawn to the group of musicians. A guy and a girl lay on a blanket taking selfies, a banjo resting by their feet. Beside them, two guys were playing guitars and a girl held a saxophone, singing along. A few feet away, a woman with long hair was teaching a redheaded man to play the g
uitar.

  Serena snuggled against Drake’s side and said, “Remind you of home?” Their go-to event with their friends had always been bonfires on the beach. Sometimes all of Matt’s siblings and in-laws would come, along with Harper’s siblings and some of their other friends. Drake and the guys would play the guitar, making up songs as they went.

  “Almost.” What he wanted to say suddenly became very clear. He waited for one of the guys to set down his guitar. Then he pulled out his wallet and said, “Excuse me. I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you’ll loan me your guitar so I can sing my girlfriend a song.”

  The guy’s eyes widened. “Sure, man. Take it.” He held out the guitar, and Drake gave him the cash.

  “Drake!” Serena’s beautiful eyes widened with shock.

  He leaned in and kissed her. “This is for you, Supergirl.”

  He played the tune for “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol, modifying the lyrics just for her. He was vaguely aware of the guy who had lent him the guitar videoing him singing.

  I’ll do it all

  Just for you

  Every day

  I don’t need

  Anyone

  Or anything else

  Emotions brimmed in her eyes. He continued playing the guitar as he kissed her cheek and then fell back into the song.

  When I’m with you

  Just by your side

  Everything feels right

  It’s become clear

  What to do

  How to feel

  How can we have just begun

  When it feels like you’ve been here all along?

  He sang a few more verses, and as the last words left his lips, tears streamed down Serena’s cheeks and trembling hands covered her mouth and nose. He lowered the guitar in one hand, and she threw her arms around his neck.

  Cheers and applause rang from a crowd that had formed out around them.

  “I have been here all along,” she said through kisses. “Just like you have.”

  “And I always will be.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I BET PICKING out an outfit to wear the first day of work is ten times harder than choosing a wedding dress! I have to run. Tell everyone I say hi, and when Drake gets back from his run, give him a big sloppy kiss on the cheek for me! Serena sent the text to Desiree, shoved her phone in the messenger bag Mira insisted she buy at The Now, and headed into the elevator of her office building. She was still on an adrenaline high from her time with Drake. Starting her new job added a dose of nervous energy to the adrenaline.

  She was buzzing!

  Two sharply dressed men in suits entered the elevator, flashing friendly enough glances before returning to their conversation. The taller of the two glanced over again. His bright green eyes held a silent greeting. She imagined Drake standing next to her, growling at the guy, and suppressed a giggle. A pretty, painfully skinny blond woman and a lanky, bearded guy wearing thick, black-framed glasses and skinny dress slacks stepped in, standing against the side wall. Serena smiled, feeling confident in her red pencil skirt and white blouse. They smiled, then tipped their heads, whispering to each other. She felt like the new girl at school.

  KHB inhabited the top three floors of the fifteen-story building. Reception and administrative support was on the thirteenth floor, the designers inhabited the fourteenth, and the executives were on the fifteenth. One of the suited men stepped off the elevator with her and headed through the glass doors like he was on a mission. Too busy talking into his phone, the man didn’t say hello to the receptionist, Carolyn, whom Serena had met during her interview.

  Carolyn sat pin straight, a black headset at the ready as she efficiently and professionally answered several calls. She held up one finger with a practiced smile, but her eyes gave away her happiness to see Serena. Her professionalism coupled with the severe cut and the model-perfect shine of her black hair, expertly applied makeup, and French manicure gave off a slightly hoity-toity vibe. But Serena knew better. Carolyn had been leaving work when Serena had left after her interview, and they’d had coffee together downstairs. She was easy to talk to, and it had become clear that her prim persona was merely a front she put on as a representative of the company.

  Carolyn ended her call and stood up quickly, leaning across the desk and waving her hands. “Get in here and hug me!” she said quietly. “I was so happy when they said they hired you. You look amazing.”

  “Thank you! I’m so nervous. I have no idea where to go.”

  The phone rang, and Carolyn held up her finger again as she answered it and settled back into her seat. After sending the call to its recipient, she said, “Don’t be nervous. You’ll do great. You’re starting with Chiara Twain, our human resources coordinator.” She pronounced the woman’s name Chee-ar-ah. “She’s relatively new, too. You’ll love her. After you fill out a mountain of paperwork, she’ll show you around the offices, and then she’ll bring you down to meet with Suzanne. I’ll let Chiara know you’re here.”

  Carolyn answered another call, and Serena stepped back from the desk to wait, feeling a little more at ease. Several people came through the reception area. Some flashed tight smiles, but others were too busy on their phones to notice anything as they crossed the hardwood floors to the white marble reception desk.

  “Serena?” An energetic blonde hurried across the floor in her sky-high heels as though they were flats, her hand outstretched. “I’m Chiara Twain, your go-to gal for all things human resources related. Everyone mispronounces my name, so just think of a cheering cheetah. Chee-ar-ah. Shall we get started?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She wished she could rush through the human resource part of her day and race upstairs to get started, even though she liked Chiara.

  As they weaved through the elegant offices, their heels silenced by plush carpeting, the din of busy employees filled the air. Chiara spoke in a hushed tone as phones rang out around them and people hurried past. The thrill of it all eased Serena’s nerves, and she tried to remember every face on the way to Chiara’s office.

  “I haven’t been to the Cape, but it’s on my bucket list,” Chiara confided. “I’d imagine, though, that you might experience a little culture shock with the move. I know I did when I moved from Reno last month.”

  “It’s definitely different. At the resort we wore whatever was comfortable, and there is no Boston Design Center, that’s for sure.” Boston Design Center was the region’s premier destination for luxury interior furnishings and featured more than three hundred and fifty thousand square feet of showrooms. Serena had been there when she’d interned during college, and she and Justine, the owner of Shift, had also visited on occasion.

  “I could get lost in BDC,” Chiara said as they entered her office. “I went there once with Laura, one of the junior interior designers you’ll be supervising, just to check it out. I have no idea how designers can choose from all the selections there.”

  Serena was still a little shocked that she was going to be supervising a team of two. She couldn’t imagine not having her hands on every piece of the design process, but Suzanne had reassured her that she’d never feel like she wasn’t in control.

  “Let’s get the paperwork out of the way first.” Chiara set her up at a desk with a ton of paperwork, an employee handbook, and a designer’s code of conduct booklet, which seemed to be the ABCs of ethics for designers.

  That should come in handy on the nights she couldn’t sleep.

  Almost three hours later, after a not-so-brief orientation meeting and a tour of the fifteenth floor, they finally stepped off the elevator on the fourteenth floor. While the thirteenth floor, where clients entered, was decked out in calming and elegant earth tones, and the executive suites were even more luxurious, though a bit too drab for Serena’s taste, the fourteenth floor was alive with color and activity.

  “Welcome to your new home,” Chiara said as she led her through the office. She pointed out the coffee room, conference area, and the resource r
oom, which had catalogs, brochures, fabric swatches, and more. Light hardwood floors and glass walls on the exterior offices gave the space an open, airy feel. “As you can see, this floor is set up for collaborating.”

  “Yes. The work flow is perfect.” Serena took in the U-shaped workstations, each boasting a splash of color on chest-height privacy screens. Designers were bent over their desks, talking on the phone, working on plans, or leafing through catalogs. Across the room, a woman and a man stood before a whiteboard, hashing out design elements. There was a vibrant hum of activity, just as she’d imagined.

  “Your office is the second from the right.” Chiara led her to a group of people gathered around a table discussing design elements. “Hi, guys,” Chiara said. “This is Serena Mallery, our new senior interior designer.”

  Serena recognized three of them from the elevator that morning.

  “I thought I picked up the scent of newbie in the elevator,” one of the suited guys said. He was tall and handsome, with closely shorn brown hair and wily green eyes she bet probably opened a lot of bedroom doors. His lips quirked up in a coy grin. “Welcome to the mayhem. I’m Gavin.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Serena said.

  The thin blonde she’d seen earlier said, “And I’m Laura, a junior designer. Spencer and I are on your team.” She motioned toward the bearded guy.

  Spencer waved. “You can call me Spence. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

  “Thank you. I can’t wait to get started.” Serena followed Chiara into her gorgeous new sunny office.

  “Why don’t you set your things down, and I’ll let Suzanne know you’re here.”

  She stifled the urge to do a happy dance and glanced out the window at the streets below. She was so excited. She had to quell the urge to take pictures to send to Drake and the girls. She set her bag on the credenza behind the sleek light-wood, extra-wide desk, and as calmly as she could, she said, “Thank you so much, Chiara. Maybe we can have lunch one day.”

  “Are you under the impression you’ll have downtime?” Chiara lifted her brows. “Seriously, lunches are crazy around here, and our senior designers often save lunches for client meetings. But maybe we can grab a drink after work sometime.”