by Violet North
Once the grill was hot and she had the chicken going, Carly headed back into the house with her wine to get the salad together.
The next hour passed pleasantly. Carly ate dinner at the chic red and black checked bistro table on the deck and returned there after she’d cleaned up the leftover food and dishes. She brought the glass of wine along and finished her romance novel while the sun set over the ocean.
As she headed to bed, she couldn’t help smiling. This was going to be a nice, quiet, rejuvenating vacation.
Chapter 3
It was the first time in a long while that Carly got to wake up naturally and didn’t have to leap out of bed immediately. It felt fantastic. The bed in the pink and green room was perfect, and the blackout shades on the windows worked so well Carly was shocked when she rolled over and noticed the bedside digital clock read 10:18. She grinned and stretched. She wanted to grab a book and stay in bed for a while longer, but her bladder had other plans. After several glasses of wine the night before, Carly had drank a couple glasses of water to try and avoid a morning headache. Her head felt fine, but she needed to use the bathroom right away.
When she was done, Carly toyed with the idea of climbing back into the king size bed and snuggling in. But the ocean view beckoned her, and she padded out to the living room to stare out the glass French doors. She almost couldn’t believe her good fortune. Any upset she’d felt over Penny not coming had dissolved entirely, and she’d fully embraced the alone time the coming week would bring.
Carly silently blessed the homeowners again when she found fresh coffee beans and a grinder next to the coffeemaker on one of the kitchen counters. Late nights of studying in college had contributed to her developing quite a coffee habit. As the wonder drink brewed, filling the house with an amazing, homey smell, Carly scrambled a couple of eggs. She’d need to get to a grocery store soon—the food generosity of the homeowners wouldn’t stretch through the rest of the day.
After breakfast, Carly changed into a one-piece lavender bathing suit with small white polka dots. She grabbed a big towel, some sunscreen, a flavored water, and her book and headed out across the deck and down the steps to the beach.
Carly scanned the shoreline in both directions. There were only a few other people around. She found a good spot near the water’s edge, smoothed the sand with her foot, and spread her towel out. Then she spent five minutes getting sunscreen everywhere she could. Her mom had already been diagnosed with skin cancer once, so Carly was always mindful of wearing enough sunscreen. As she put the cap on the bottle and reached for her book, something hit her squarely in the back of the head. Shock and a burst of pain made stars dance in front of her eyes, and her hand flew up to touch the area of impact. She glanced around and found the culprit: a brown and green Frisbee lay in the sand next to her where it had dropped after bouncing off her head.
Carly rubbed her skull again and checked her fingers. No blood. Of course not, she scoffed at herself. A Frisbee bonk wouldn’t make your scalp bleed. She heard shouts of “Sorry!” coming toward her, and she scooted over toward the Frisbee to pick it up. When she rose from the ground with the disc in her hand, pain exploded in her head again, and she collapsed again.
“Dammit! Sorry again. Are you okay?” A man dropped into the sand in front of her, reaching his hands out to hold her arms. He peered into her face. Carly’s head swam a little, and then suddenly, everything snapped into clarity. She realized they’d both bent to pick up the Frisbee at the same moment. She’d come up before him and crashed her head into his.
But that wasn’t what made her jerk to attention. It was the fact that this guy was the Ford driver. The one from the cottage next to her rental. And he was so much more gorgeous close up.
He had dark, curly hair and a goatee that looked like he spent more time grooming than she did her hair and makeup together. Her eyes dropped to his chest and arms, which were beyond perfect, and then her gaze slipped even lower, to his black swimsuit bottoms.
Out of the blue, the entire right side of her face was covered in wet goop. Carly squealed and dove away from its source, but it kept following her. She staggered to her feet, wiping at her cheek. The source of the attack, the hot guy’s Labrador, sat down and looked up at her with eyes as deep and brown as his owner’s, and Carly laughed.
“Gus, leave her alone!” The man grabbed his Frisbee with one hand and the dog’s collar with the other and got to his feet too. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
Carly wiped her face again. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m such a dope.” Ugh. Only dopes announce to handsome men that they’re dopes.
“Nah, it’s all Gus’s fault. I was throwing the Frisbee for him, and he missed. He needs more practice.” The guy smiled, and Carly’s heart felt like it did a full somersault, crashing into her sternum. He moved the Frisbee to his left hand and stuck the right one out toward her. “I’m Donovan,” he said. “And I’m so sorry my dog and I assaulted you.”
Carly laughed and shook his hand. It was all she could do to let it go after the socially acceptable time period for hand shaking had passed. She wanted to hold on and use it to pull his body closer to hers. “I’m Carly,” she said.
“Nice to meet you, Carly. Are you here on vacation?”
“Yes. I’m in this cottage for a week.” She gestured toward her bungalow.
“All the houses in this strip seem to be VRBOs. I’m here for a week too. Well, Gus and I are.” He reached down and ruffled the dog’s ears. Gus lolled his tongue and seemed to smile.
“Hello, Gus.” Carly knelt down and gave the dog a good neck petting. He leaned into her happily. “Aw, he’s super sweet.”
“He’s all right. Likes to kiss beautiful women on the beach, which is sometimes awkward.”
Carly prayed she wasn’t blushing. Had this superhot guy just called her beautiful?
“You know, I really think I should do something to make up for Gus’s bad manners. And poor Frisbee handling skills. Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
Carly’s head snapped up, and she searched Donovan’s face. She didn’t know what to say. A voice in the back of her mind was urging caution—was it safe to go out with a guy she’d just met on the beach? Then Gus kissed her again, and she told the voice to stuff it. The man seemed perfectly lovely. Besides, what kind of dangerous criminal had a super happy, tongue-lolling Labrador?
“That sounds great,” she said.
Donovan smiled. “Awesome. I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Okay.”
“Come on, Gus. You need more practice with the Frisbee.” Donovan threw the disc in the opposite direction and the dog took off after it, kicking sand up behind him as he dug into the beach for traction. Soon, both of them had disappeared, leaving Carly to climb back onto her beach towel. She grabbed her book, but the words swam around on the page in a disorderly fashion, not making any sense. All she could think about was the hot guy and their date. She was supposed to be having a quiet, relaxing week. Not going out with a stranger she met on the beach on her first full vacation day. What was wrong with her?
But Carly didn’t care. She couldn’t wait to see more of the dark-haired hunk next door. She closed her eyes and grinned. Penelope would just die when she heard about this.
Chapter 4
Carly eventually relaxed enough to read her book, but she kept an eye out for Donovan and Gus to come back through her area. Not only did she want to avoid being beaned by a Frisbee again, but she was also hoping for another dose of manly eye candy. When she got to the steamy parts of the romance novel, she couldn’t help but envision her hunky vacation neighbor in the role of male lead.
She went in around noon and had some leftover barbecued chicken for lunch. Then she changed her clothes and took the Kia to the grocery store she’d passed on her way into the neighborhood the day before. When she pulled out her credit card to pay for everything, she mentally groaned. Then she held her breath until she heard the beep that let her kno
w the charges had gone through. She’d had to charge way too much stuff lately. But that would all change in a week when she became a real reporter and started making money. She felt a thrill of excitement at the thought.
As she drove back to the cottage, Carly thought more about what it would be like to report on real, important issues. She planned to be a tough-as-nails, badass reporter who followed the truth no matter what. Investigative reporting was definitely what she wanted to do. Track down bad actors, expose the corrupt actions of ruthless corporations, and protect innocents from those who would use and abuse them by laying bare their horrible actions to the world.
She was going to have a Bernstein-worthy career.
By the time Carly made it back to the cream and aqua bungalow, she was smiling and feeling on top of the world. She found the house keys easily this time, let herself in, and unpacked the groceries. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was four o’clock. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. It was time to get ready for her date.
Carly had one little black dress with her. She’d been planning on spending most of her time in a bathing suit but knew Penny would probably want to go clubbing at least once. Pulling it out of the closet, she tossed it on the bed and grabbed the pair of strappy black heels she’d brought.
She took her time straightening her hair and putting on makeup and then got dressed carefully. There was a full-length mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door, and Carly examined herself in it critically. Not too bad. In fact, she looked and felt sexy.
This was going to be a fun evening.
At exactly six o’clock on the dot, Carly heard a rap on the front door. She opened it, and Donovan stood there grinning. He wore black linen pants and a light green, linen shirt with the top two buttons open. He looked so good she couldn’t believe he was her date.
“You’re right on time,” Carly told him.
“There wasn’t much traffic.”
Laughing, Carly grabbed her purse and followed Donovan out the door to the huge Ford. A rush of nerves swept over her as she wondered how in the world she was going to get into the giant thing gracefully.
Donovan opened the passenger door and then turned to her. “Can I help you up?”
She hesitated. Part of her wanted him to walk away so she could haul herself into the truck without an audience. But between her heels, short skirt, and the height of the running boards on the truck, she’d probably topple over and land in a heap in the driveway if she tried to do it herself. Instead, she nodded at Donovan.
Carly thought he would take her hand and let her use it as leverage to climb into the truck, but instead, he put his hands on her waist and lifted her like she was a child’s doll. She placed one foot on the running board and stepped into the cab easily and gracefully. She felt a burst of disappointment once his warm, strong hands were gone.
Donovan waited for her to get settled in the seat and click her seatbelt in place. She glanced at him. “Thank you.”
He grinned and shut the door. As he walked around the front of the truck to let himself in the driver’s side, Carly glanced around the car’s interior. She didn’t know much about pickup trucks, but this was clearly the top-of-the-line trim level, with leather seats and all the bells and whistles on the dashboard. Donovan climbed in, fired up the engine, and backed out of the driveway.
“Do you like sushi?”
“Yes, I love it.”
Donovan grinned, revealing a shallow dimple in his right cheek. “I know a great place.”
He drove with one arm draped over the top of the steering wheel. Carly would never drive like that. Ten and two hand positions for her, all the way. But she had to admit the way he sat gave her an excellent view of his strong right arm, shoulder, and side. She tried not to stare but couldn’t help casting little sidelong glances at him. Her eyes had a mind of their own when it came to this guy’s body.
“It’s a little bit of a drive up the coast,” he was saying. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. It’s a nice evening for a drive.”
“How do you like the cottage?” Donovan glanced over his shoulder and merged onto the highway.
“It’s perfect. My best friend was supposed to come on this trip with me, but she got called away, so I’m solo and loving it. I haven’t felt so relaxed in ages.”
“I’m sorry you got stood up but glad I ran into you. Well, my Frisbee ran into you, I guess. I’m not glad about that. Wow, could I be less smooth?” Donovan shot her an apologetic look.
Carly laughed. “I’m glad you hit me in the head with a Frisbee too. I’d never be eating sushi tonight if you hadn’t.”
The conversation was easy and before Carly knew it, Donovan was pulling the Ford into a spot near the door of a big, brightly lit restaurant. He jumped out of the truck, hurried around to her side, opened the door, and reached for her. “Sorry this thing is so big,” he said as she turned toward him and carefully set one foot on the running board. His hands slid around her waist and lifted her down. This time, he didn’t let go quickly but held on for a few seconds until he was sure she stood steady on her heels.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m totally a truck girl myself. My dad’s always had one. I just normally don’t have heels and a short dress on when I get in and out of it. Makes it a little trickier.”
“You look beautiful,” he said, keeping his eyes on hers. She noticed faint smile lines around the corners of his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“Shall we?” He held an arm out toward her.
Carly slipped her hand around Donavan’s elbow, resting it on his forearm. She couldn’t help but feel how solid he was, and she resisted squeezing, though the temptation was strong.
When they reached the restaurant’s front door, Donovan pulled it open, and Carly dropped his arm to enter in front of him. She felt him put a hand lightly on the small of her back, and her pulse quickened. He was a perfect gentleman so far, and she was enjoying the date. The guys she’d gone out with in college had all been nice, but this felt more grown up somehow—like what a real date should be.
A maître d stood just inside the door behind a lectern. He smiled and greeted them warmly. Donovan gave his name and said he had reservations for two, surprising Carly. He leaned close to whisper in her ear, “If you’d said you didn’t want sushi, I had a reservation at the Italian place too.”
Her eyes widened and then she giggled. Yep, this guy was definitely a grown-up. And he was making her feel good about herself.
The maître d led them into the dining room, which was elegantly decorated in warm brown and cream colors. Pictures of Japanese seascapes hung on the walls, and the tables were spaced well apart from each other and topped with lacy cloths and vases of real flowers. Carly followed the tuxedoed restaurant worker, Donovan’s hand still lightly on her back. She was confused when they walked past the other diners and out a sliding glass door. Suddenly, they were on a deck with an ocean view. There was only one small table there, set with a vase of white roses.
“Wow,” Carly breathed. “This is gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Donovan said. He nodded to the maître d, who retreated into the restaurant, and pulled a chair out for Carly. She settled herself into it and gazed out at the view.
“If you get cold, let me know. I’ll have them move us inside.”
“Oh no. No way. I’m not budging from this spot.”
Donovan grinned. “I like it too.”
A waiter came through the sliding door and greeted them with a smile, pouring ice water into the two crystal glasses already on the table. They each ordered a glass of wine and the man left menus.
“We should get the Thousand Bites Platter,” Donovan suggested. “What do you think?”
Carly scanned the menu to see what he was talking about. It didn’t take long to find it—there was a picture of it in the center of the page. It was a huge platter containing what looked like one of every type o
f sushi the restaurant made. She looked over the top of the menu at her sexy date, who studied her expectantly.
Carly grinned. “I’m game.”
She was rewarded with a big smile and another glimpse of his sexy dimple. When the waiter returned with their wine, Donovan ordered the platter.
They sipped their wine and enjoyed the view in easy silence for a few minutes. Donovan broke it with a question. “Do you surf?”
She shook her head. “I’m too nervous about stuff like that.”
“No living on the edge, huh?”
Carly tipped her head to the side and studied him. He didn’t seem to be mocking her—only trying to find out more. “I’m a good girl most of the time,” she admitted. “Sometimes, I wish I could be wilder, though.” The waiter opened the slider to bring their food out. “I guess that’s why I’m best friends with Penelope. She makes me do crazy stuff now and then.”
Donovan studied Carly as the waiter put the gigantic platter of sushi in the center of the small table and then set a plate down in front of each of them. Once they were alone again, he said, “I don’t surf either. I’m too busy with work.”
“What do you do?” Carly eyed the platter of food, eager to dig in. But she didn’t want to be rude and start piling sushi on her plate.
“Something very boring,” he said, laughing. “It’s what my dad did, and I love it, but I might not have chosen it myself.” He leaned forward, picked up some chopsticks, and started putting sushi on Carly’s plate and then his own. “Dig in.”
Carly selected a slice of California roll first, picked it up in her chopsticks, and dipped it in a small, shallow bowl of wasabi mixed with soy sauce. She put the whole thing in her mouth, suddenly realizing that sushi wasn’t the most attractive thing to consume on a first date. She didn’t care for long, though, because it was possibly the best thing she’d ever eaten. “This is amazing,” she said once she’d swallowed.