Bayside Passions (Bayside Summers Book 2)

by Melissa Foster

  She laughed. “Were you always this cocky, or did I just not notice before?”

  “Trust me, doll. You noticed everything about me.” He pulled open the door and swatted her ass. “And one day you’ll stop standing in your own way and admit it.”

  STANDING IN MY own way. Give me a break. Emery stewed over Dean’s accusation as he spoke to the cute twentysomething receptionist who was literally twirling her shoulder-length curly dark hair around her finger and flirting unabashedly. Dean leaned his bulky forearms on the counter, looking hot as sin in his shorts and tight T-shirt, all Mr. Casual Sweet-Talker.

  An unfamiliar feeling clawed at Emery, making her stomach squirrely. Dean rose to his full height and winked at Emery as the receptionist picked up the phone and spoke into it.

  Winking at me while you’re flirting with her? I don’t think so!

  Her words from earlier came rushing back. I don’t realize I’m doing it half the time. It’s who I am. The truth hit her like a bullet. Was this the way guys felt when she was just being who she was and they thought she was flirting? This was an awful feeling.

  While she tried to crawl out from under the uncomfortable truth, a petite blonde with a cute pixie haircut came through a door behind the reception desk.

  “Dean, didn’t I just see you three days ago?” The blonde’s eyes met Dean’s and she tilted her head, looking at him with a playful smile, the way women who had intimate knowledge of a man did.

  It was a look Emery knew well. It said, Hey there, big boy. What kind of trouble are you getting into now, and can I come?

  “Did you miss me already?” Pixie Cut asked.

  Three days ago? Emery suddenly recognized the emotion coursing through her for what it was. Jealousy.

  She wasn’t proud of the ugly emotion. In fact, she was shocked by it, but not too stunned to flash her best he’s-all-mine smile as she stepped beside Dean and purposely brushed her arm against his. She knew it was wrong to claim him when she’d just given him a diatribe about how she couldn’t go out with him on a real date, but she was powerless against the viscous monster gnawing at her gut.

  “I always miss you, Chloe,” Dean said.

  You always miss her? Then what the hell are you doing claiming to want me? Emery felt like she was swimming in a sea of quicksand. But quicksand would probably be easier to handle than the jealousy that was winding around her insides, stringing her muscles so tight she thought they might burst.

  Dean put a hand on Emery’s lower back, dragging her to the surface again.

  “But that’s not why I’m here,” he said. “Chloe Mallery, this is Emery Andrews, the yoga instructor I told you about.”

  What? She shot a curious look at Dean, whose sexy smile was now aimed at her, sending her insides into a whole different type of flurry.

  Chloe’s eyes widened. “You’re the back-care Wonder Woman Dean raves about?” She opened her arms and pulled Emery into an unexpected hug. “I am so glad to meet you. Dean said you worked wonders at Oak Falls Back Care and Rehab.”

  Emery was at a loss for words. He’d networked for her? Did he also tell Chloe why she had left the practice? She finally managed, “He did?”

  “Yes! He sings your praises like he’s your marketing rep,” she answered. “Didn’t he tell you? And of course my sister, Serena, told me all about how nice you were.”

  Serena’s sister? The puzzle pieces were falling into place, and Emery felt like a fool, being jealous of someone Dean had grown up with. Being jealous at all. She didn’t like that feeling, and since she’d never been jealous before, she wasn’t sure she liked what it meant about how she felt about Dean.

  Denial looks cute on you.

  Like jealousy, denial wasn’t an emotion in which she was well versed. She glanced at Dean, who winked again. When did he start winking? Had he always done that? She tried to push past the truth in his observation and said, “He didn’t tell me.”

  “Well, after I heard you were coming here, I had to Google you,” Chloe exclaimed. “I read the archived articles you wrote for the back-care center you worked for. I was astonished by the article about the sixty-five-year-old man who was bedridden after suffering a back injury at work. You were able to help him get back on his feet so quickly.”

  “Mr. Wiles. The doctors had pumped him up on pain meds and basically left him to believe he’d suffer for the rest of his life. Patients don’t realize the negative impact becoming sedentary can have on them.” She remembered Mr. Wiles well. He was a curmudgeonly man who lived in the next town over. When they first started working together, he’d hated every session and had told her he was only doing it because his daughter, who had worked at the hospital and had referred patients to the back-care center, had insisted. With time and gentle care, he’d come to trust Emery, and with that trust had come a desire, and drive, to heal.

  “I read that. But with your help, he was walking again within two months and nearly pain free four months later. That is very impressive.” Chloe pointed to the flyers in Emery’s hand. “Are those for your new business?”

  “Thank you, and yes, well, sort of. They’re for my yoga classes, and they have my website address, which has my experience on it.” Emery handed her a flyer and then remembered how casually she was dressed. “I didn’t realize we were coming here to meet you today. I would have dressed more appropriately.”

  Chloe waved a hand dismissively. “No worries. No one dresses up on the Cape in the summer. You look great.”

  As Chloe scanned the flyer, Emery turned to thank Dean, but he was busy talking with the receptionist again. Just as he glanced her way, a tall brunette pushed a wheelchair into the lobby, and the elderly woman sitting in it said, “Dean, what a surprise. Are you here to take me out to tend to the flowers?”

  Dean knelt beside the wheelchair and took the elderly woman’s hand in his. “How are you, Agnes?”

  Her thin lips curved in a smile that reached her eyes. “I woke up this morning and saw a bright light. Thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Then I realized I had forgotten to close my curtains. I’ve been blessed with another day. That’s a good day in my book.”

  “And in mine.” Dean rose to his feet, still holding the woman’s frail hand, and greeted the brunette behind the wheelchair. “Jenny, would you mind if I took Agnes out for a walk?”

  He really did have a heart of gold.

  “Not at all. But you know,” Jenny said with a mischievous grin, “once the ladies get wind of this, they’re all going to want to come out and work in the garden with you today.”

  Dean held a finger in front of his lips. “Shh. This is mine and Agnes’s private date.”

  He turned to Emery with a question in his eyes, as if he was asking if she wanted to come, or if she was okay with him disappearing for their walk. Her insides had gone all warm and fuzzy. She’d known he was generous to a fault. And now he’d not only gone out of his way to help her, but he was willing to put everything else aside to take this lovely woman out to see the gardens. She tried to close the emotional floodgates she’d so eagerly denied existed, but they were near to bursting.

  Before she could say a word, Chloe said, “This is perfect. Now I can pick Emery’s brain and show her around.”

  “Yes, perfect,” Emery said with her eyes on Dean and her heart in a quandary.

  Chloe gave Emery a thorough tour of the facility, which was warm and homey and reminded Emery of the assisted living facility in Oak Falls where many of her clients had lived. During the tour, Chloe asking about the work Emery had done at the back-care specialty practice, and the more Emery talked about working with the patients, the stronger the pull became to get back into it.

  They stepped outside and into a beautiful courtyard. The warmth of the sun shone down on them as they walked by several elderly men and women seated around a table playing cards. Chloe stopped to say a brief hello, and it was clear by the enthusiastic greetings how much the residents liked her. But Emery noticed more
than their smiles. She noticed the way the woman on her right was favoring her right shoulder and the way the man on her left continually shifted in his chair, as if his hips were bothering him.

  As they walked away, Chloe said, “You’ve got to watch Nelson, the one with the gray shirt. If you buy into the gossip, he’s some kind of cardshark.” She smiled and said, “And apparently has quite the social life, too. Anyway, now you’ve moved here for good, but you’re not starting a back-care specialty practice? Dean made it sound like that was what you loved most. I was really hoping you might want to get involved with our residents.”

  “I would love to help the people here. There are so many ways to make a difference in their lives. But I’m going to be working at my friend Desiree Cleary’s—”

  “I love Des! She and Violet are members of BNI, the business networking group I belong to. We shared a table at a local networking fair in the spring.”

  “Really? Des and I grew up together, and she invited me to come stay at the inn and offer yoga to her customers. I’ll be working at Dean’s resort, too, so I really can’t start a full-blown back-care specialist practice, which would be my dream. I wouldn’t feel good about leaving either of them hanging after they’ve given me such a great opportunity and enabled me to move here and start over.” She noticed an elderly woman sitting in a wheelchair, hunched over a table. Her face was pinched, as if she was in pain, as she sorted flowers. Several flowers fell off the edge of the table and she mumbled something indiscernible.

  “But I love working with the elderly, and I’d like to take on a few clients maybe once a week or so.” Emery walked over and picked up the flowers. She handed them to the woman and said, “Hi. These are beautiful.”

  The woman’s pinched expression morphed into a pained smile. “Thank you, dear. This darn wheelchair has me hamstrung.”

  “Good morning, Rose. I see you’ve been busy.” Chloe turned to Emery and said, “Rose is very particular about the arrangements in the dining room. She likes to rearrange them and make them just right for everyone to enjoy.”

  Rose shook her head, mumbling about the arrangements. She picked up a daisy and pointed it at Chloe. “What I wouldn’t give to get back to my beloved gardens. When I’m on my feet again, I’m going to drive myself over to that florist and give him a lesson or two. He should be ashamed, sending these over the way he does.”

  “It can be hard to have reduced mobility if you’re used to an active lifestyle.” Emery touched her shoulder, unsurprised by the spastic muscles she felt. “Are you in much pain?”

  “Ha!” Rose stuck the flower in a vase and said, “That’s like asking if I breathe air.”

  “Rose refuses to take the stronger pain medications the doctors have prescribed,” Chloe explained.

  “They dull the pain and make my brain fuzzy,” Rose said sharply. “The pain is my reminder to get my butt in gear and find a way out of this darn chair.”

  “I understand, and I’m sorry for what you are going through. Have you found anything that has given you relief?” Emery asked. “Exercises? Stretches?”

  “Exercises? That would be like a dream come true. Every time I move I’m in pain.” Rose set another daisy in a vase and began picking through the flowers on the table. “I can only stand getting out of this ride to death’s door for short periods of time. I’ve had scoliosis forever, but it was a darn herniated disc that finally did me in. I’ve tried everything. Chiropractors, physical therapy, acupuncture…”

  Emery looked at Chloe, whose empathetic expression mirrored her own feelings—almost. Hope sprouted inside Emery, the type of hope that brought her hands to Rose’s shoulders again and then lovingly down over the hump on her back. She felt Rose tense up and said, “I’m sorry. I can be overly touchy.”

  Rose studied her for a moment. “Most people shy away from that ugly deformity.”

  “I don’t find it ugly. Did you know that some spine curvatures can be fixed with the right care and therapies? If it’s not a rigid deformity, meaning a deformity of your spine, which would require surgery, there might be ways to help reduce the curvature.” She didn’t want to give Rose false hope, but she couldn’t resist asking, “If someone thought they could help, would you be willing to try?”

  “Sweetheart, I’d sell my soul to the devil if it offered me a chance to get out of this chair and into my beloved gardens again.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, and as Emery and Chloe headed back toward the lobby, Emery said, “I would love to try and help her. Do you know if there were other mitigating factors that led to her being wheelchair-bound?”

  “No. I’d have to ask her doctor. As Rose mentioned, she’s seen the best doctors and physical therapists, but they’ve gotten nowhere,” Chloe said. “The herniated disc she’s speaking of happened when she slipped going up a flight of stairs shortly before she moved in here. She’s been wheelchair-bound ever since. It’s been several months. She’s gone through a lot. At first she was flat-out angry, and then she fell into a depression. I know she seemed uppity, but I’m so happy she finally is getting her personality back. I would have to speak to her doctor to get his approval for you to work with her.”

  “Thank you. I would appreciate that. And I’m happy to speak with her doctor if you’d like me to. I can’t make any promises, and a lot of her success will depend on how much she’s willing to endure, because it will probably hurt at first. We’re going to stretch muscles that probably haven’t been stretched in years. But, Chloe, this is what I did for so long back home. I’ve seen patients with hunchback-like posture resulting from scoliosis, osteoporosis, disc issues…We had tremendous success with the programs I put together. I think I can help, and I assure you, I won’t give her false hope, but I will share her determination to help her feel better. I’ll make it clear that the goal is to give her more mobility with less pain but that there are no guarantees.”

  Chloe put a hand on her hip and smiled. “Dean was right. You are passionate about the work you do. Let me make some phone calls.”

  “Thank you.” She was still a little shocked at how Dean had built her up. He was just full of surprises.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Dean together?” Chloe asked in a hushed tone. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’ve known him all my life, and I’ve never seen him light up when he talks about a friend the way he does with you.”

  Emery spotted Dean pushing Agnes’s wheelchair toward the lobby. Agnes had a bouquet of fresh-cut flowers in her hands and a smile on her lips. “We’re…” She paused, searching for the right words to describe their relationship. “He’s one of my best friends,” she said honestly, because she was pretty sure, Today we’re friends, but if he keeps up these heart-melting outings, I’m not sure what we’ll be tomorrow, wasn’t an appropriate answer.

  Chapter Eight

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE you told Chloe so much about me. Thank you. That was really beyond nice of you,” Emery said excitedly as Dean drove out of the parking lot.

  He glanced at her, meeting her curious gaze. “No problem, doll. It was nothing.”

  “No, it wasn’t nothing. It was really thoughtful. I was going to put off working anywhere but at the inn and your resort until I was settled in. Desiree has classes scheduled three mornings a week, and Serena said she was booking the other two mornings for me at the resort. We left open the afternoons until we see how the mornings pan out. I think I can squeeze in an additional client or two one or two afternoons a week. Chloe is going to see if she can get authorization for me to start working with one of the residents. And there were other residents who I could tell would benefit from working with me. Just talking about working with people who really need my help got my blood pumping.”

  Her voice escalated, and he stole a glance at her, thrilled that she wasn’t upset with him for pushing her in that direction.

  She reached across the seat and touched his arm. “I really mean it, Dean. Thank you for everythi
ng.”

  Her hand slid from his arm, and it took all of his willpower not to grab her hand and hold on tight. Emery was generally a happy person, but right now she was radiant.

  “We’re not done yet.” He nodded toward the stack of flyers on the seat between them. “Let’s go distribute those and see what else you can line up.”

  “No way. You said you had to work, and you’ve done enough for me today.” She flashed an effervescent smile. “What’s next on your agenda?”

  “You,” he said, biting back an even more sexually charged response.

  Her cheeks flushed, and a soft laugh slipped from her lips. “I meant next on your workday agenda.”

  “Damn,” he said teasingly, and headed for Cape Stone, to choose the hardscape materials for the new patio at the resort.

  Emery sang along to the radio on the way. Every once in a while she’d look at Dean while she sang sexy lyrics, and he found himself confused by her seductive and playful smiles. He wanted to believe each one was meant just for him, but knowing Emery, the emotions of the song were simply playing out in her expressions.

  He was sure that one day they’d be meant solely for him.

  One day couldn’t come soon enough.

  Half an hour later they walked into the Cape Stone showroom, a hardscaper’s heaven. As Emery took in the displays of stone fountains, pillars, fireplaces, and other design samples, Blaine Wicked approached. Blaine’s whole family worked in the building industry on the Cape. He and his brother Justin owned Cape Stone, while his father and two other brothers specialized in renovations. Blaine was a dead ringer for actor James Marsden, from his dark, always-tousled hair to his shockingly blue eyes and playful nature. His gaze raked appreciatively down the length of Emery’s body.

  Dean moved his hand possessively to Emery’s lower back before his competition reached them. Blaine’s gaze shifted to Dean, and a quick raise of his chin told Dean his she’s-taken message was received loud and clear.