The Only One (Sweetbriar Cove Book 3)

by Melody Grace

  There was a rush of footsteps, then she came bursting into the room. “Thank you!” Brooke threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “How did you even do it?”

  “I won’t bore you with the details. I’m just that good,” Riley teased.

  “Yes, you are.” Brooke beamed. She pulled him down and kissed him hard, and the heat surged between them, taking Riley by surprise all over again.

  Damn, he couldn’t get enough of this woman.

  Brooke pulled back. “I’m sorry I snapped at you before,” she said, looking guilty. “It wasn’t your fault I went off the clock.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Riley insisted. “You were right. I forget not everyone is on permanent vacation. Your empire takes time, I know.”

  Brooke cracked a glimmer of a smile. “It’s just one hotel.”

  “For now.” Riley grinned back, relieved to see her smiling again. He gave her hand a squeeze. “But I can tell this is only the beginning.”

  Brooke laughed. “Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  “How much?” Riley teased, pulling her closer. She smiled.

  “A lot. I’m going to be working late tonight, but why don’t I show you, tomorrow? Dinner, my treat. And . . . dessert.” Brooke gave him a mischievous smile, and Riley would have gladly spent all week chained to that computer for the chance to discover just what was on the menu tonight.

  “I’m in.”

  13

  “What’s the best restaurant around?” Brooke asked Eliza when she met her the next morning in Provincetown for some last-minute date-prep shopping. “I want to take Riley somewhere nice tonight.”

  “Nice, like fancy silver and linen tablecloths nice?” Eliza asked, slurping on an extra-large iced coffee as they browsed the boutique rails.

  Brooke paused. “Maybe not. Riley doesn’t seem the six-course tasting menu kind of guy. But I want it to be someplace special. He really saved my ass at work.”

  “So you’re giving it to him gift-wrapped as a reward?” Eliza held up a lacy lingerie set from the hanger.

  Brooke laughed. “Umm, nope. Red definitely isn’t my color. And who wears this stuff, anyway?” she asked, examining the thong. “It’s like having cheese-wire riding up all night.”

  “Nothing like a wedgie to get you in the mood.” Eliza grinned. The polished-looking shop assistant glared at them, and Brooke tried to hide her giggles.

  “Come on, I’m not going to find anything here.”

  “Wait.” Eliza flipped through the hangers, and pulled down another set. “I knew they carried Jane’s stuff. See, what about this one? It’s sexy, but really cute, too.”

  Brooke looked over. It was a bra and panty set in pale lilac lace, with silk panels and delicate purple embroidery at the edges. “That is cute,” she said, surprised. “I thought your sister designed children’s clothes.”

  “Officially, but this is her naughty little secret. She won’t even put her name on it. Look, it says Aphrodite Designs.”

  “They’re beautiful.” Brooke paused. Buying lingerie to wear for Riley tonight seemed almost brazen, and even indulgent when she had drawers of underwear back at home.

  Underwear that Archer had bought for her.

  “You’re right, I’ll take it.” Brooke grabbed the hanger. Fresh start, fresh man, fresh lingerie.

  “They have it in peach, too . . .” Eliza added, tempting.

  Brooke laughed, and took the second set as well. “She should pay you a commission.”

  “Great idea.” Eliza followed her to the register. “But really, I’m doing this for you. I mean, if only one of us is going to be having wild sex with a hot guy tonight, then you need to do it right.”

  The clerk arched an eyebrow, and Brooke blushed. “Sorry,” she apologized. But Eliza just smirked.

  “She knows what I’m talking about. We buy this stuff for one reason, and it’s not to sit at home, alone, watching new episodes of Property Brothers. Seriously, if it wasn’t for the prospect of sex, I’d never wear an underwire bra again!”

  Brooke laughed and paid for her new purchases. They exited the store and strolled along Commercial Street, which was packed with tourists and still decorated with flags and ticker tape from the Fourth of July.

  “Sage!” Eliza exclaimed suddenly. “For your dinner tonight. It’s the hottest new restaurant around, all farm-fresh and rustic. The critic at the paper was raving about it.”

  “Rustic sounds good,” Brooke agreed.

  “And, more importantly, I’ve heard the chef’s really hot,” Eliza added.

  Brooke laughed. “I’ll scope him out for you,” she offered.

  “Now who’s after a commission?” Eliza teased.

  Brooke felt her phone buzz. She checked, and found a text from Riley. Pick you up at seven? Or we could just order in… ;)

  “It’s him, isn’t it?” Eliza smirked. “Is it something dirty? You’re blushing.”

  “No!” Brooke exclaimed. “You’re the dirty one.”

  “I know, sorry.” Eliza sighed. “My imagination’s working overtime these days, that’s what a dry spell will do for you.”

  “No more internet dates?” Brooke asked. Eliza had a whole library of horror stories from life in the dating trenches. She shook her head.

  “I’m on strike. Although, does it count as a strike if nobody’s asking you out to begin with?”

  Brooke winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” Eliza gave a mischievous grin. “I haven’t waxed since Memorial Day.”

  They laughed. Brooke checked her phone again. Seven is good, she typed back. See you then.

  She felt the flutter of anticipation in her stomach just thinking about it.

  “Look at you,” Eliza teased. “You like him.”

  “Maybe,” Brooke admitted. Her phone buzzed again, and her stomach flipped over, but it was only a junk message. She exhaled. “I’m supposed to be grown up,” she said, self-conscious. “Why do I still have butterflies like I’m sixteen, heading out on my first ever date?”

  “The butterflies are the best part!” Eliza argued. “When you can’t stop thinking about him and you can’t even eat because your stomach is tied up in knots.”

  “Since when did you like a guy so much you stopped eating?” Brooke asked with a smile.

  Eliza grinned. “OK, so I haven’t met a man who could do that just yet, but I live in hope. Riley definitely seems worth a few butterflies,” she added with a knowing look.

  “He is . . .” Brooke smiled again, thinking of their day on the boat. Sunshine, relaxation, and enough sexual tension to start a small inferno. She couldn’t imagine what was in store for her tonight, but if she knew Riley by now, it would be hotter than ever.

  “I know you say he’s just a player,” Eliza mused. “But good butterflies are hard to find. You think it could get serious?”

  Brooke blinked. “What? No! We’re just having fun.”

  “For now . . .” Eliza gave her a look.

  Brooke laughed. “Trust me, I’ve had enough romantic drama to last me a lifetime,” she vowed. “Riley was the one who said I needed to just relax and enjoy myself, and he’s right,” she said. “Sometimes things should just be simple. Uncomplicated. And Riley is about as straightforward as they come.”

  “Dirty.” Eliza winked, and Brooke burst out laughing.

  “We need to get you a date, and soon.”

  “Not before I make a visit to the salon,” Eliza cracked, and they laughed so loud, a couple of tourists looked over. Brooke held her shopping bags tighter, and thought of the seductive promise they contained. She’d never been the brazen type before, but something about Riley made her want to shock him—in all the right ways.

  He didn’t know what she had in store for him tonight, and she couldn’t wait.

  RILEY COULDN’T WAIT for seven p.m. He watched the clock all afternoon, running errands and counting down to when he could see Brooke again—see her. Kiss her.<
br />
  And more.

  What was it about this woman that kept him hanging on for just another touch? He was so used to playing it cool, enjoying whatever fun and games came his way, but not going out of his way to chase anything—or anyone. He didn’t need to: gorgeous women practically lined up at the bar.

  Now look at him: clean-shaven and dressed in a smart button-down shirt, loitering by the florist stand trying to figure out what kind of flowers she would like him to bring.

  He had it bad.

  “Don’t go for roses,” Mackenzie’s voice came from behind him. He turned. She was hoisting a bag of groceries, with a pencil stuck through her bun.

  “Are you sure?” Riley asked. “I thought they were supposed to be a classic?”

  Mackenzie shook her head. “Classic means unoriginal. You want to show you’ve put some thought into it. Picked something especially for her.”

  “Oh.” Riley surveyed the display again. “OK.”

  He reached for something pink. Mac made a dubious noise. “I think Brooke’s more a hydrangea girl,” she said. “Pretty, but unexpected.”

  “What makes you think it’s Brooke?” Riley tried to sound nonchalant, but Mackenzie just smirked.

  “Well, you’re looking pretty dressed up for poker night, and we all know Cooper’s into poppies.”

  “Cute.” Riley grinned, then he realized what she’d said. “Wait, it’s poker night? Damn, I totally forgot.” He had a standing monthly appointment with his buddies, a deck of cards, and a few rounds of beer.

  Mackenzie arched an eyebrow. “You forgot about your sacred bro time? Wow, guess someone’s going to wind up disappointed tonight.”

  “The guys will understand,” Riley said, and grabbed the hydrangea bouquet.

  Mackenzie’s eyebrows rose even higher. “So that’s how it is then?” she said, looking delighted.

  “It’s not like anything,” Riley insisted as he paid for the flowers. “I already made plans. It would be rude to cancel at the last minute.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  He glared at Mac. “Don’t you have some place to be?”

  “I might take your spot at poker night,” she grinned back. “Since it’s going spare and all.”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  “Good luck with Brooke!” she called after him as he headed back to his car. “Tell her I said hi!”

  Riley shut the door on her teasing and started the engine. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about poker night—and even worse, that he didn’t even care. He called in his apologies on the way over to Brooke’s place, almost breaking the speed limit with his eagerness to get to her—which is how he found himself knocking on her door fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.

  “Hey.” Brooke looked surprised when she opened the door. She leaned up and kissed him quickly on the cheek before ducking back. “You’re early. I won’t be a minute, I can’t find my earrings.”

  She disappeared back into the apartment, and Riley took a cautious step inside. “Sorry to surprise you.” He awkwardly held the flowers by his side. “Did you get everything figured out at work?”

  “Yes, thanks to you!” Brooke’s voice came from the bedroom. “I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if that virus wiped us out. I’m making them back up the system every hour now, and you can bet I gave Kevin a piece of my mind about downloading files on the clock!”

  There was a pause, and then she re-emerged.

  “Wow.” Riley blinked. He’d only caught a glimpse of her before, but now he was hit with the full view. And it took his breath away.

  Brooke was wearing a light blue silk dress that skimmed over her curves, with tiny spaghetti straps he already wanted to slip from her bare shoulders. Her hair was falling loose in silky blonde waves, for the first time he’d seen, and those sexy sandals crisscrossed up her calves.

  “I . . . uh, you look great,” he managed to say.

  Get a grip, man.

  “Thanks.” Brooke smiled, then she saw the bouquet in his hand. “You brought flowers! You shouldn’t have.”

  “I figured . . . you might like them.” Riley still felt dazzled.

  “They’re beautiful.” Brooke came and took the hydrangeas from him, then whisked to the kitchen to find a vase—leaving a whisper of light, sensual perfume in her wake. Riley barely had time to pull himself together before she was back at his side with a small beaded purse and an expectant smile.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Sure.” Riley followed her out, as Brooke kept up a steady chatter about work and her weekend.

  “I thought we could go to Sage?” she said, as they climbed into the car. Riley knew it well—the chef, Dylan, was a buddy of his.

  “How did you get a reservation?” he asked. “Those things are like gold dust in season.”

  “Eliza made some calls for me. Pulled some strings at the newspaper, I think,” Brooke admitted. “I figured it was a special occasion.”

  Riley was feeling like any occasion with Brooke was pretty special, but he managed to give a casual nod. “Sounds good to me.”

  They drove up the coast towards Provincetown. The restaurant was set a mile outside town down a dead-end backcountry road, and it was a testament to Dylan’s skills that the parking lot was full, and there was already a hopeful line by the door for bar seating.

  “This place is gorgeous,” Brooke exclaimed, looking around as they got out of the car. “It feels so old and historical.”

  “Cooper did the restoration,” Riley explained, leading her inside the converted carriage house. “He’s a stickler for details in his construction projects.”

  “Riley, hi.” A sultry female voice made him pause.

  Damn.

  “Hi, Lulu.” Riley smiled politely at the hostess at the front desk. She was tall and leggy . . . and a former fling of his from last year. They’d spent a wild couple of weeks together before he’d made his usual excuses, and they parted on good terms. “I thought you were moving back East?”

  “I’m back for the summer.” She gave a suggestive smile. “How have you been?”

  “Fine.” Riley glanced at Brooke, who was standing beside him with a smirk on her lips, like she knew exactly what the deal was. “I, we have a table?”

  “I didn’t see your name down,” Lulu cooed. “I know I would have remembered that.”

  “It’s under Delancey,” Brooke spoke up politely.

  “Oh. Here we are.” Lulu beamed. “Come with me.”

  She showed them to a table in one corner, set with fresh flowers and twinkling tea lights. “Your server will be right with you, but you let me know if you need anything.” She gave Riley a meaningful look, then sashayed away.

  “Friend of yours?” Brooke asked, when they were seated and left alone.

  “Something like that.” Riley cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry, I know you’re not exactly a monk,” Brooke said, with a teasing smile. “If we have to avoid all your friends, we probably wouldn’t leave the house.”

  He knew she meant it good-naturedly, but Riley felt an odd sense of guilt. “I haven’t left a string of broken hearts across the Cape,” he said, needing to defend himself.

  Brooke looked up from the menu, surprised. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. You were just having fun, right? Like us.” She beamed at him and returned to browsing the page. “Ooh, this all looks amazing, I don’t know how I’ll pick.”

  “You can’t go wrong with Dylan’s cooking,” Riley agreed, but inside, his heart had sunk.

  Fun.

  Of course, that’s what they’d agreed, wasn’t it? The whole reason Brooke had thrown caution to the wind and wound up in his arms. He didn’t do serious, and commitment was always the last thing on his mind.

  So why was he looking at her across the table, framed there in the candlelight, wondering if maybe it could be different this time?

  14

  Dinner was incredible, but
Brooke could barely focus on the food. Even the most delicious seafood and fragrant sauces couldn’t distract her from the man sitting across the table, his eyes gleaming blue in the candlelight.

  “Good?” Riley asked, nodding to her plate.

  “Uh huh.” Brooke managed a vague murmur in reply, watching as he tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in the bowl of oil. He took a bite, a drop of the sauce lingering on the edge of his mouth until he licked it away.

  She shivered.

  What was she doing? She thought she’d have it together by now. She’d spent all afternoon feeling bold with anticipation—taking a luxurious shower, dressing in that gorgeous lingerie, just imagining the look on Riley’s face when it came time to undress and reveal her surprise—but the moment he arrived on her doorstep, looking better than any man had a right to look, all that confidence seemed to disappear in a whirlwind of fluttering desire.

  Focus, Brooke, she told herself. Just because he’s all crisp and clean-shaven, he’s still the fun-loving guy you know. The one who makes you laugh with all his charming innuendo.

  The one who took you to the brink of pleasure—and right over the edge.

  She flushed, her body tightening at the memories.

  “Everything OK?” Riley looked puzzled. “You’ve gone quiet.”

  “Huh? Oh, no, I’m fine,” Brooke covered quickly. “I was just . . . thinking about work. This food is so good, do you think your friend would be interested in catering at all?”

  “For your big wedding?” Riley replied. “He doesn’t normally, but you can always ask. I’ll send word back to the kitchen when we’re done.”

  “Great.” Brooke took a gulp of her water, trying to cool down. But it was hard. Every time she looked at Riley, she remembered exactly what they’d done the last time they were together. His hands, sliding over her body. His lips, teasing at her skin. And those fingers—

  She stopped short before she could finish the thought. God, those fingers. Getting this turned on in public was a dangerous thing, and she would just die if anyone knew the steamy thoughts racing through her mind. Luckily, Riley seemed completely oblivious—lounging back in his seat, totally at ease as he cleared his plate.