Seaside Hearts (Love in Bloom: Seaside Summers, Book 2) Contemporary Romance

by Melissa Foster

  “Ack!” Jenna screeched. Her hands flew up to push her cheek from the wall—a wall with legs. Shit. Double shit—as her towel fell to the ground. She clenched her eyes shut and ran her hands over the wall of muscles she’d smacked into, then fisted her hands in the soft cotton shirt that covered them.

  Nonononono.

  Please be a stranger.

  Please, please, be a stranger.

  “Hi, Jenna.”

  Zing! Pow! Bam! Pete’s deep, sexy voice slid through her ears straight to her toes, leaving a trail of fire on everything in between. She clenched her eyes shut tighter. “If I can’t see you, you can’t see me. Right? Please lie to me.” His chest felt amazing. Spectacular. Lickable.

  She felt him lean forward a little, as if he were looking over her shoulder at her bare ass. He laughed, a low, sexy, zing-inspiring laugh that shot right to her naughty parts and woke them up with such force that her nipples stood at attention. Against his chest. Jenna heard a whimper slip through her lips.

  “You’re sadly mistaken, Jenna. I can see a whole hell of a lot of you right now.” He whistled. It was the type of whistle construction workers sounded off as women walked by.

  Jerk.

  Sexy jerk.

  Sexy jerk who smells like heaven wrapped in a soft cotton T-shirt.

  “I guess you want your towel?”

  She thudded her fist against his chest, unable to force another word from her throat. He’d seen her big ass. Her big white ass. She should have put on tanning lotion and…Oh my God! What am I thinking? I’m buck naked in Pete’s arms!

  “Don’t freak out or anything when I bend down to get this towel.” His voice was calm, like he was in total control, which was totally unfair.

  “Mm-hm,” she managed.

  His big, strong hand slid down her side and stopped at her waist. How had she missed his hand gripping her arm in the first place? She felt her body begin to tremble, and she knew he could feel it, too. It was as obvious as a beach umbrella struggling to remain erect during a typhoon. She clenched her fists tighter in his shirt.

  His grip tightened on her hip, and holy mother of grace did it feel good.

  “If you keep hold of me like that, I’ll never be able to pick up your towel.”

  Jenna’s fingers flew open.

  He laughed again and—thankfully—bent a little, as if he were going to retrieve her towel. His other hand, still holding her waist, slid seductively lower. She clenched her thighs to quell the desirous ache between her legs. He made a sound in his throat. Something between a grunt and an appreciative Hm! Then he crouched down a little lower, his cheek grazing her nipple, sending sizzling pinpricks through her entire body. She couldn’t help it. She gripped his shirt again. She needed support before she fell right over. She’d never stood buck naked before a man who was fully dressed before. Beneath a man in the bedroom, sure. Above a man in the bedroom? Sure, sometimes, though not as often. But full frontal nude in front of Pete Lacroux?

  Shoot me now. Please, please, let me drop dead.

  She felt him rise to his full height again, his hand slid back up to her waist, where it felt like it had settled in for the night. His thumb pressed just below her ribs, his fingers gripped her back possessively, and when she remembered to breathe again, she inhaled lungs full of Pete. Masculine. Sinfully sexy. Earthy.

  She was going straight to hell for what she did next. She gripped his shirt tighter and inhaled again, hoping that smell would permeate her skin, her hair, her eyelids, for Christ’s sake. She must have died and gone to heaven in the three minutes that this episode took place. That was the only explanation that made any sense, because suddenly she could breathe, she could hear noises from the cars on the main road, and holy smokes, she could feel a breeze coming in from the front door, which was wide open. Holy shit. Her door was wide open. Anyone could see her big white ass. She had it all wrong.

  She was in hell.

  She felt the towel wrap around her from behind.

  “Better?” Pete took a step back, her claws still attached to his shirt as he handed her the ends of the towel.

  She nodded, eyes still closed.

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t look.”

  She opened one eye and looked up at him. That was so much worse. His chin was peppered with stubble, and his chest rose and fell with each breath. Now that she knew what those pecs felt like, each breath felt like it reverberated against her palms again. When she met his eyes, oh God, those glorious pools of brown sucked her right in. Jenna bit her lower lip to keep from grabbing his chest again.

  “I fixed your hot water.” Pete held her gaze, and he didn’t look embarrassed or rattled, which only made Jenna more nervous.

  “Th-thank you.” Jenna couldn’t move. She needed to walk past him to get into the bedroom and get dressed, and her legs were stuck. Glued to the floor.

  “Are you going to the movie at Town Hall tonight?”

  Oh shit. She was supposed to be there already. She managed a nod.

  His mouth quirked up. “I’ll see you there, then.”

  He walked toward the door, and it was all Jenna could do to remain standing. She closed her eyes, relieved and frustrated at once. She didn’t hear the screen door open, and she sensed him standing behind her in the small living room. Was he looking at her? What was he thinking? Why wasn’t he leaving?

  All sorts of crazy thoughts went through her head, like turning around and launching herself into his arms and kissing him silly. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought.

  “Jenna?”

  “Mm-hm?” She couldn’t move.

  He was silent for a long time. Maybe two full days; Jenna wasn’t sure. Or maybe two minutes.

  “Call me if you need anything else.”

  When the screen door closed behind him, Jenna let out the breath she’d been holding. Her insides were trembling. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes, a smile lifted her lips.

  My zinger isn’t broken after all.

  Chapter Five

  THE LAWN BEHIND Wellfleet Town Hall was crowded with couples and families sitting on blankets and in beach chairs, gazing up at the Brave Foundation’s documentary, playing on the back of the tall, white building. An old-fashioned popcorn machine sat atop the concession stand that was set up on the path leading from Main Street to the back of the building. Pete was trying like hell to concentrate on the documentary, as shark migration had become a major problem in New England, but he couldn’t help watching Jenna and Dipshit instead. Charlie. He was actually a nice guy, and Pete felt a little guilty for thinking of him as Dipshit. A little, but not enough to stop the thought, especially after having Jenna’s naked body pressed against him. It had taken all of his focus and determination not to kiss her until thoughts of anything other than them disappeared.

  He watched her now, sitting beside Dipshit, fidgeting with the edge of her cutoffs. Her wide-necked long-sleeved shirt was falling off her shoulder, and her lean, tanned skin begged to be kissed. If he were sitting with her, he’d lean her back against his chest and wrap his arms around that tiny little waist of hers; then he’d lower his lips to her shoulder and kiss every inch of skin between her shoulder and her beautiful neck. After the way she trembled beneath his touch when he couldn’t keep from placing a hand on her as he retrieved her towel, he knew that those kisses would raise goose bumps all over her incredible body. Hell, he was hard just thinking about touching her.

  He shifted in his chair and forced himself to turn away. Pete wrung his hands together, catching bits and pieces of the documentary. Following food…More dangerous to drive a car…Seals…He was still trying to figure out what had actually happened at Jenna’s. Her hot water had been turned off, which meant she had probably turned it off. That had been the first thing he’d checked when he’d arrived at her cottage, and it excited him. He’d thought she’d feigned the need for a repair just to see him, but then she’d acted like she always had—nervous an
d unable to talk around him. Granted, she had lost her towel. He grinned at the thought. If anything, it would have been the perfect time for her to give him an indication that she wanted him, and when she didn’t, it had totally thrown him off. He was still off-kilter.

  “I’m going to get popcorn. Anyone want to go?” Jenna rose to her feet and tugged at the frayed edges of her shorts.

  Hell yes.

  He tried to act cool, lowering his chin and sliding his eyes to the others as they passed on the invitation. He watched Jenna walk away, her ass swaying seductively as she disappeared into the darkness beside the building. Pete couldn’t believe Dipshit was stupid enough to let a woman like Jenna go for popcorn alone. He was the man. He should have gotten it for her or escorted her. If Jenna were Pete’s, he’d make damn sure she was taken care of properly. He waited a minute before getting up and heading in the same direction.

  The concession area was lit only by candles on either end of the table. Jenna stood before the popcorn stand with her fingertips on the table and a smile on her lips as she watched the popcorn pop. Her hair ran down her shoulders, and as Pete approached, he thought about the curve of her naked hip beneath his hand. The air shifted and heated as he moved behind her and glanced back at the others, sitting far enough away that they couldn’t see them. He couldn’t resist placing his hand on her hip again. Jenna went rigid beneath his touch and sucked in a breath. Pete leaned down, his cheek beside hers, her intoxicating scent wrapping its tentacles around Pete and drawing him a step closer. His thighs grazed her ass as he whispered, “Hungry?”

  Hungry? What the hell? It had been a long time since Pete had had to court a woman. They usually came to him, and he was out of practice.

  Jenna nodded. Another mousy response. Not at all what he’d hoped for. He took out his wallet and paid for her popcorn, and when the elderly gentleman handed her the bucket of popcorn, he had no business keeping his hand on her waist and guiding her from the table onto the dark path, but he didn’t care. Every silent step brought them closer to the others. Pete’s pulse quickened at the thought of sitting away from her again, watching that guy put a hand on her thigh. He hooked his finger into the belt loop of her shorts and tugged Jenna around so she was facing him—and clutching the damn popcorn. He stared into her troubled eyes. The sounds of the movie faded into the night. Jenna’s lips parted; she barely came up to Pete’s solar plexus. One tug brought her hips against his. Her breasts brushed against his abs, and damn, did they feel good.

  He leaned down so they were eye to eye, her lips a whisper away.

  “Why won’t you talk to me?” It wasn’t what he’d intended to say. In fact, he hadn’t intended to say a goddamn word, but he had to know. Why could she talk to a guy like Dipshit when she fell apart around Pete?

  “I…” She swallowed hard and tightened her grip around the popcorn.

  “I don’t bite, Jenna.” He reached up and brushed her hair from her shoulder. His fingers lingered in her soft waves and skimmed over her neck. Her skin was warm, and he was tempted to slide his hand beneath her hair, wrap his fingers around the back of her neck, and pull her in to a kiss—but he knew he wouldn’t want to stop there. Not with the memory of her bare body still so fresh. He lowered his hand to his side and waited.

  Her brows drew together, then eased, then drew together again. She closed her mouth, then opened it again. She was struggling, and he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until she felt safe enough to say whatever was so difficult for her. This was new and unfamiliar territory for Pete, both his patience and the eagerness for a woman who was so different from the way he was with the women he usually dated. Hell, he didn’t need a woman right now at all. Then again, need had nothing to do with the desires coursing through him.

  Want was sailing this boat.

  Seeing her with Dipshit had amped up his desire. Seeing her naked turned his curiosity to an intense craving. His body demanded Jenna. Only Jenna. He searched her eyes again, hoping for some indication that he was on the right track. Beneath her worry was pure, unadulterated lust. Holy hell. It was right there in her eyes. Had it been there the whole time? Had he just overlooked it? Lust he understood. Lust was familiar territory, but on Jenna it was laced with something deeper. A connection that snaked into his core and rooted there, momentarily severing his ability to think past what they both felt. He heard clapping in the background and knew their time was coming to an end.

  “It’s okay, Jenna. I can see this is hard for you. Take your time.” He lowered his lips until they brushed her ear and whispered, “One day it’ll be my name coming off your lips as you fall apart, and I promise you, after that, when you forget how to talk, it’ll be worth every erotic, sensual second.”

  JENNA SUCKED IN another breath. Oh God. Erotic. Sensual. His voice, his words, his confidence, spiraled around her, taunting, teasing, practically stroking her. She shuddered with his promise.

  “And when you remember to breathe again, you’ll beg for more,” he whispered.

  The bucket of popcorn slid down against her belly as her arms went limp. Pete slid one strong hand beneath the bucket. He rose to his full height, the popcorn bucket tucked against his side, and he turned Jenna toward the grass where the others were sitting. She sucked in a jagged breath as he took her elbow in his hand and guided her back to her seat. Beg for more? Oh God, yes. She wanted to beg for so much more. She’d waited years to hear something like this from Pete, and now she was struck mute? Say something! Oh God, I can’t even talk. She couldn’t even wish she could drop dead, because she didn’t want to, no matter how upset she was over her inability to respond. Finally. Finally, Pete wanted her.

  When they were just a few feet from their friends, he leaned down again and whispered, “Breathe, Jenna. Your date is waiting.” Then he walked back to his chair as if he hadn’t just made a promise that she’d hear in her mind until the day she died.

  Jenna moved as if she were on autopilot, lowering herself to the blanket beside Charlie and settling the popcorn in his hands. Charlie said something, but his words were lost in the fog of Pete’s promise. Jenna tried to smile and felt it fall short. The movie had ended, and Dane Braden, the founder of the Brave Foundation, stood before the crowd, but his words were also caught in the web of Peter Lacroux. Jenna squinted, trying to at least pretend she was listening, but her eyes kept shifting to Pete. He looked so damn handsome sitting beside Caden, knees up, feet flat on the ground, his muscular arms leaning casually on his knees. He cocked his head and caught her staring. Jenna dropped her eyes, sure everyone near them could hear her heart thundering in her chest and certain the desire bubbling inside her would come bursting out if she tried to speak.

  Dane talked for half an hour, during which Jenna’s eyes darted to Pete a hundred times—and each time he managed to catch her. His face was somber at first, but now, as she chanced one more glance, the right side of his mouth kicked up and he arched a brow; then he lowered his chin even more and sent her a seductive stare that pinned her in place. The world silenced around her, and then slowly she became aware of a flurry of movement.

  “Jenna, are you going to sit there all night?” Amy yanked her up by the hand. “Jeez, woman.”

  Charlie reached for her. “That was fascinating, wasn’t it?”

  “Fascinating.” Thrilling. Terrifying also came to mind.

  “Are you guys up for a drink?” Lacy Snow, Dane’s girlfriend, was a tall blonde with thick spiral curls that hung past her shoulders and a smile that eased even Jenna’s crazy nerves. “I know Dane would love to hang out with everyone.” She glanced at Dane, talking with a group of people by the building. Jenna recognized the dreamy look in her eyes—it was exactly how she used to look at Pete.

  Used to. When she looked at Pete now she no longer saw the quiet man who moved like a shadow, doing exactly what he was supposed to do at all times—the man she was initially attracted to. Now he appeared to be so much more. Now she saw a man with an edge, i
n control, mysterious. A man who was ten times as alpha as any man she’d ever met but confident enough to keep it to himself. The type of man she’d always dreamed of being with—and it scared the shit out of her and intrigued her in equal measure.

  She didn’t need a drink to make it through this night. She needed an entire bottle.

  THE BAND AT the Beachcomber played a mix of top forty and country music. The deck was dimly lit, the music was loud, and the dance floor was packed. They claimed the only empty table, a table for four on the corner of the deck, and thanks to a helpful waiter, they were able to secure extra chairs from around the room. The ten of them squeezed in around the small table. Jenna sat beside Charlie, directly across from Pete, who was sitting beside Amy. Dane and Lacy were at one end of the table, and Bella and Caden sat at the other, with Kurt and Leanna squeezed in at the corner.

  “That was a fascinating documentary, Dane,” Caden said. “So you’re a shark tagger and a marine biologist, and you combined the two when you founded the Brave Foundation?”

  “Brave’s mission is to use education and innovative advocacy programs in an effort to enlighten those that are fearful of sharks, and work toward their protection, and in a broader sense, protecting the oceans as well. Tagging is part of the process.” Dane pulled Lacy closer to him and kissed her temple. “But enough about work. Kurt said Evan wanted to come out on the boat. Why don’t we make a day of it and all go out for an afternoon? Lacy could use some girl time. We’ve been on a research mission in Bermuda for the past three weeks, and she’s probably pretty sick of me.”

  Lacy wrapped her arm around Dane’s middle and pressed her body to his. She narrowed her baby blues and looked into his dark eyes. “Never, but I would love to hang out with Leanna and the girls on the boat.” Lacy smiled at Leanna. “We can sun ourselves while the boys play fishermen.”