Secrets at Seaside

by Addison Cole

  She sensed Tony’s eyes on her again and forced her hips to find the beat as Bella and Leanna danced closer. “It might be time I move on,” she said more confidently than she felt.

  “Move on from Tony?” Bella took her hand and dragged her back toward the table with the others on their heels.

  Amy saw Tony’s eyes narrowing as they hurried past. Why was he so angry all of a sudden?

  “He’s so into you, he won’t let you go.” Bella elbowed her as they took their seats. “He texts you almost every day.”

  “Yeah, with stuff like, Won another competition and Check me out in Surfer Mag next month! He texts me when he’s going to miss an event at Seaside. He doesn’t text me because he misses me or wants to see me.” Tony had started texting her during the summers when they were teenagers, because Amy was the only one who checked her cell phone when they were at the Cape, and at some point, those summer texts had turned into a year-round connection. He’d stopped texting her for a few years when she was in college and he was building his surfing and speaking careers, although she knew the real reason he’d stopped, and it had nothing to do with either. After she’d graduated from college, he’d begun texting again. She hadn’t known why he started up again, and after having been without that connection for so long, she didn’t ask. She was just glad to have him back. Since then, she’d become his habit, but not exactly the type of habit she wanted to be.

  “It’s not like what each of you have. I want that, what you have. I want a guy who says I’m the only woman for him and that he can’t live without me, like your guys say to you.” I want Tony to say that.

  Seeing her girlfriends so much in love was what really drove home how lonely Amy had become over the past few summers.

  “I think he takes care of you like you’re his. I mean, how many guys text to say they saw a kitty pajama top you’d look adorable in if they aren’t gay or interested?” Bella shifted her shoulders in a Yeah, that’s right way.

  “I’m probably the only woman he knows who wears kitty pajamas. He was teasing me, not being flirty or boyfriendish.” Was he? No, he definitely wasn’t. There had been times when Amy had thought Tony was looking at her like he was interested in a more intimate way, but they were fleeting seconds, and they passed as quickly as he’d taken his next breath. She was probably seeing what she wanted to see, not what he really felt, and she’d begun to wonder if she’d really loved him for so long, or if he’d become her habit, too.

  “You know, he’s never brought another woman to Seaside.” Leanna’s loose dark mane was wavy and tousled. With her golden tan and simple summer dress, she looked like she’d just come from the beach. Her gaze softened in a way that made Amy feel like she wanted to fall into Leanna’s arms and disappear. “And look how he treats you. He’s always got an arm around you, and when you drink too much at our barbecues, he always carries you home.”

  Amy wanted to believe them and to see what they apparently saw when he looked at her, but she never had. It was the secret memories of being in Tony’s strong arms that long-ago summer, feeling his heart beat against hers, feeling safe and loved, that made her hopeful there would come a day when they’d find themselves there again. But then her mind would travel to the end of those recent nights when she’d had too much to drink and he’d carried her home. When he’d tucked her into bed and gone along his merry way back to his own cottage across the road, quickly dousing her hope for more with cold reality. Whatever they’d had that summer, she’d ruined.

  “Exactly, Leanna. That’s why she’s not making a decision about Australia until after this weekend,” Jenna said. “Right, Ames?”

  “Yes. That’s my plan. I’m going to talk to Tony, and if he looks me in the eye and says he has no interest in anything more than friendship, then I’m going to take the job. It’s pretty stupid, really, because how many times has he had the opportunity to…you know?” She dropped her eyes to her glass and ran her finger along the rim. Amy was as sweet as Bella was brash, and even thinking about trying to seduce Tony and finding out where his heart really stood had her stomach tied in knots. When her friends had come up with the idea of seducing Tony, she’d fought it, but they’d insisted that once he kissed her, he’d never look back, and she’d grabbed that shred of hope as if it were a brass ring. Now her fingers were slipping a little.

  “Talk? That’s not the plan,” Jenna said.

  Jessica shook her head. “So, seduction? You’re going to try?”

  “If I can muster the courage.” Amy drew in a deep breath, hoping she wouldn’t back out. As much as she wanted closure, the idea of actually hearing Tony tell her that he didn’t see her as anything other than a friend made her almost chicken out. But she didn’t want to chicken out. She had a great job opportunity, and at thirty-two, she was ready to settle down and maybe even start a family. But that thought was even more painful than Tony turning her away.

  Tony set a disconcerting stare on Amy as he moved confidently across the floor with the other guys, heading for their table. Her pulse ratcheted up a notch as his eyes went dark and narrow. She broke the connection, grazing over his low-slung jeans and short-sleeve button-down shirt, afraid to try to decipher if it was an angry or an interested look in his eyes. She’d probably see only what she really wanted to see anyway.

  Big mistake. Now she was even more nervous.

  Several women in the bar turned and watched the four gorgeous men crossing the floor, but Amy knew they had to be looking at Tony. She was held prisoner by his sun-drenched skin, sandy hair that brushed his devilishly long lashes, and squared-off features that amped up his ruggedness and made her pulse go a little crazy. She reached for a glass of liquid courage, having no idea whose it was, and drained it as Tony slid in beside her. His thigh met hers, and his irresistible scent made her hot all over again. She grabbed another glass and drained it, and another, until the glasses were all empty and the nervous stirrings in her stomach stilled.

  “Since when did you become Beyoncé?” Tony grumbled.

  Beyoncé? Was that good or bad? Amy couldn’t form an answer. All she could think about was that no matter what the outcome, after tonight her life would never be the same.

  TONY HAD SPENT the last three hours watching men ogle Amy in that skimpy dress of hers. What was she thinking, dressing like that? He worried about her when she drank. She was too small to protect herself against unwanted advances, and she exuded sweetness like she was made of sugar, making her an easy target for a savvy guy. And he knew for a fact that Amy Maples was made of sugar—and spice and all things in between that were delicious and worthy of being savored. But that was a long time ago, and he’d spent years making sure Amy was treated as she deserved to be and putting his own desires on the back burner. Or trying to, anyway. He didn’t think anyone else noticed that he could barely hold himself together when it came to Amy, and he was grateful for that.

  She was looking at him in a way that was reminiscent of that summer years ago, and he assumed it was caused by the far-too-many drinks she’d consumed. She never could hold her alcohol. He ran his hand through his hair and ground his teeth together. Maybe he’d take a walk back up to the bar to get away from the jerks watching her. He’d seen Pete stare them down when they were leering at Jenna, but Pete was Jenna’s fiancé. She was his to protect.

  Well, he wasn’t Amy’s fiancé, but she needed protecting too.

  She’s with Bella and the girls. They’ll protect her. He mulled that over for a minute or two. Bella and the girls. Yeah, they’d protect Amy. They were about as protective of Amy as he was, but the idea of moving from Amy’s side and having some jerk saunter over and hit on her messed with his mind. She was so darn beautiful and way too naive for her own good. One of her gorgeous smiles could stop a man cold, and she was clueless to that fact. It was so easy not to think about those things when they were in different states during the year, but summers? They were torture. And these last few summers, watching his summer friends f
all in love, made this time with Amy even more difficult. But they’d crossed that line years ago, and not only had it not ended well, but Amy seemed to have moved on just fine, while Tony never really had.

  He thought about all the summer nights since then that he’d spent checking up on her, making sure she got home safely. The summer she’d turned twenty-two and insisted on going out with that bonehead, Kevin Palish. Tony’d stalked his window that night until she’d arrived home safely. Normally he tried to ignore the Seaside gossip about who Amy was dating, and she seemed to keep guys away from the complex, as far as he could see, but a few summers ago she’d dated that other guy who came around more than a handful of times. What was his name? Mr. Tall, Dark, and Annoying? Tony had waited up every night for a week to make sure Amy got home okay—and to make sure the dude left shortly after dropping her off at her cottage. Not that it was any of his business or that he could have done anything about it if they’d spent the night together. That was the problem. It wasn’t his business. Luckily, Amy had come to her senses and broken up with the guy before Tony ever woke up to the guy’s truck in her driveway.

  Amy wiggled in the seat beside him, tugging at that way-too-short dress. Her thigh pressed against his, and it suddenly got way too hot in there. He unbuttoned another button of his shirt and exhaled loudly, trying to talk himself out of going up to the bar. He should stay right there to ward off looks, like the one the dark-haired guy from the table of oglers was giving her. Amy smiled and fidgeted with the hem of her dress again. For the love of… Tony’s thoughts drifted to last summer when she’d dated bad-boy, mountain-rescuer, handsome-as-Brad-Freaking-Pitt Jake Ryder. Tony had seen all the women at the beach party eyeing Jake, and Amy had acted the same adorably nervous way around him. Jake was younger than Amy, too, which pissed Tony off even more, and he was friends with Jake. He actually liked the guy. But she needed a man, not a boy.

  Enough already. If he couldn’t be the man she deserved, he could at least make sure no other guy treated her badly. He laced his fingers with hers and set their hands on her thigh.

  “What?” Amy asked.

  Tony nodded at the guy at the next table. “No need to flirt with a guy like that. He’ll only hurt you.”

  “Then maybe you should take me back to my room.” She said it with wide, innocent eyes that tore right through him like lightning.

  He rose to his feet and pulled Amy up with him.

  “We’re calling it a night,” he said to their friends. He needed to get her to her room before she got herself into trouble—or before he got himself into trouble. “I’m going to walk Amy back to her hotel room. Jamie, Jessica, enjoy your last night of freedom.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Jamie rubbed noses with Jessica. “Who needs freedom? All I want is to wake up with Jessica in my arms for the rest of my life.”

  Yeah, and all I want is to wake up with Amy in my arms.

  He shifted his eyes to Amy, standing before him pink-cheeked, glassy-eyed, and sexier than anything in that skimpy little black number that looked painted on and high heels that did something amazing to her long, lean legs. He forced his eyes north, to the sleek line of her collarbone, which he wanted to trace with his tongue. Her hair fell over one of her heavy-lidded green eyes, giving her a sultry look that sent heat through his body. When she trapped her lower lip between her teeth, it took all his effort to force something other than, Man, you look hot, from his lips. Well…how was he supposed to resist her now?

  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, chest-pushing-against-him thing going on.

  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 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’d 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 sexy 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 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 him.

  For a breath he closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the feel of her touching him. Every muscle in his body corded tight as her hand slid down his chest. 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. An idiot. 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.”