Hand in hand, they strolled down to the lobby and exited onto Main Street. Many of the shops along the avenue were open late to take advantage of tourists staying for the gorgeous weekend. In another couple of weeks, it would start getting too cold for most of the beach lovers, and the businesses would buckle down for the sometimes-lonely winter months.
They ambled away from the center of town and turned toward the inlet and the restaurants and inns that faced the river. As they headed toward the restaurant, a number of locals passed by them, and not one of them failed to greet Jonathan with a smile or a respectful dip of their head. Jonathan responded by offering everyone a smile.
* * *
Connie couldn’t help but notice how popular Jonathan seemed to be. But she was pleased that quite a number of the people they passed likewise greeted her with a friendly smile. She had worked with some of them on a committee to help rebuild after Hurricane Sandy. A number of other people had been pro bono clients she’d helped with assorted legal issues related to the storm.
As yet another person walked by and smiled at Jonathan, she leaned close and said, “Did I miss you being elected mayor or something?”
With his typical without-a-care shrug, he said, “Just friends. You seem to know a lot of people in town too.”
Again, she had the sense there was more to his explanation, but Jonathan wasn’t one to toot his own horn, and in reality, neither was she. Before long, they’d arrived at the restaurant. People lingered on the sidewalk in front of the Victorian-style building and all along the first-floor veranda where luckier patrons had been able to snag a space to enjoy drinks before dinner.
Jonathan skipped up the steps with her following, and as he neared the hostess podium, the attractive young woman working there smiled and walked around to hug him. “It’s good to see you again, Jon,” she said.
Connie wrestled down the little green monster. Luckily, since a second later, Jonathan said, “This is Meghan, my buddy’s wife. Meghan, this is Connie.”
The woman glanced at her as if to say That Connie?, which made her wonder just how long Jonathan had known the restaurant’s owners. But there was little time to ponder it as Meghan said, “I’ve got your table waiting. Let me get someone to take you up.”
With a wave at a young waitress who scurried over, Meghan handed the twentysomething woman two menus and told her the table number. The young lady quickly led them up the stairs to the third floor of the restaurant and then out to a balcony and a corner table. The location of the restaurant and its height gave them an unimpeded view of Sea Kiss Beach, the river inlet, and, across the way, the piers and lights of the neighboring Jersey Shore towns to the south.
“This is totally beautiful,” Connie said as Jonathan held out the chair for her and she sat. He took the spot next to her, facing the beach and inlet.
“We couldn’t ask for a better view or a nicer night.” He tacked on, “Or better company.”
She thought he couldn’t be more right. The early fall day lacked any humidity, and the temperature had been in the high seventies earlier. It had cooled somewhat as night fell, but it was still comfortable. Beneath the clatter of cutlery and glasses and the soft chatter of the nearby patrons, there was the calming susurrus of the ocean. The longer she sat there perusing the menu, the more she relaxed.
She felt that way often in Sea Kiss, which explained why she liked to visit as much as she could. Maybe one day, she could even afford a little place here for herself as a weekend getaway. Maybe if she got her career back on track. Maybe even if this thing with Jonathan turned out to be more. More of what, she couldn’t say, because Jonathan was still an unknown variable.
The waitress came over to take their drink orders. Jonathan glanced at her and said, “Would you like some wine? A cocktail?”
Not that alcohol had played all that big a role in what had happened the night of Maggie’s wedding, but she wanted to keep a clear head this weekend. “No, thanks. A diet cola would be fine.”
“The draft IPA for me, thanks. Did you decide on what you want?” he said.
With a nod, Connie ordered her meal and Jonathan did the same, but after the waitress left, he said, “Are you sure you don’t want a salad or appetizer?”
She shook her head and motioned to her body. “I hate salad, which explains all these curves, so I cut down where I can.”
He eyed her appreciatively, inched closer, and whispered against the shell of her ear, “I love every inch of those curves.”
Heat flashed through her with his words.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and added, “And I love that you blush. I love seeing that color all over your creamy skin.”
When he sat back in his chair and met her gaze, a sexy smile filled with promise on his lips, she grabbed her glass of ice water and chugged down a few healthy gulps to try and cool the heat he had created. Luckily, the waitress returned with Jonathan’s beer and a tasty appetizer the chef-owner had specially created for them.
Small chunks of lobster, barely dressed with a homemade mayonnaise, sat on a delicate leaf of soft, creamy butter lettuce. Connie ate a forkful of the lobster, and the light, lemony taste of the mayo was a perfect complement to the tender shellfish.
“Delicious,” she said and ate slowly to savor the elegant sample.
Jonathan devoured it in a few forkfuls but murmured his approval. “I always knew Mac was wasted at flipping burgers.”
“You said you met him when you worked at a bar?”
A slight grimace crossed his features, and as he spoke, the tension in his voice was apparent. “At the Sandbar, after I decided not to go to school. I worked there for a few months before I went to SoCal. When I came back to Sea Kiss, Mac was just opening the restaurant. I helped out until I sold that first big idea and decided to start my company.”
She got the reason for his discomfiture. Bringing up his decision not to go back to school had been the deal breaker for their relationship at the time. She’d been unwilling to consider anything other than her vision for their future. She still wasn’t sure if she could handle his impulsiveness, but she was willing to try.
“You took a risk, and it paid off. Not everyone is brave enough to do that.”
He eyed her directly, seemingly uncertain, but then smiled with that enticing, crooked grin. “I think you might actually mean that, Reyes.”
She chuckled and retorted, “Does it shock you that I might have changed, Mr. Pierce?”
He leaned close once again, brushed a kiss along her cheek, and said, “Actually, it pleases me a lot.”
She tried not to let his comment satisfy her too much, but as warmth spread across her skin, she realized she’d failed, but she’d own it. Especially as he sat back and his gaze traveled over her face tenderly, as stirring as a physical touch.
She finished her tasting of the delicious lobster just in time for the waitress to set their main courses before them. Hunger took over, forging a companionable silence as they ate. But as she got closer to finishing her meal, she said, “So you want to go house hunting tomorrow?”
He nodded. “And shopping for a new research and development center. We need more space for the company and agreed to look in the Sea Kiss area, since I plan on staying here.”
She examined him carefully, but he was clearly sincere about his intentions. She opted not to press him for the moment. “Any ideas what you’re looking for?”
“I spotted a building near the train tracks that seems perfect.”
“The old guitar company building?” she asked.
He grinned. “Yeah, that one. There’s just something about it that’s pulling me in.”
She understood. The building had charm even if it could use a serious rehab project. “What about the house?” she said as she finished the last of the short rib she’d ordered.
He put
his knife and fork down on his empty plate. “On the beach, if possible. At least four or five bedrooms, maybe more. Open concept. Garage and driveway. Nice yard. Big kitchen so I can cook.”
It sounded a lot like his family’s home, but she kept that to herself. She also wondered why he needed so many rooms, unless of course he was planning for kids, something she couldn’t quite picture. Or maybe she didn’t want to picture it, because the thought of his having kids with someone else caused a funny ache in her heart. Instead, she said, “So you like to cook?”
“I do and not just Bolognese sauce. Once I find a place, I’ll whip you up something epic.”
“Epic, huh?” she kidded.
With a boyish grin, he said, “Totally epic. Gnarly even.”
She got caught up in his optimism and the promise of the possible future she had pondered earlier. “I’d like that.”
A busboy swung by to pick up their empty plates and was immediately followed by the waitress. “Can I get you anything for dessert? Coffee or an after-dinner drink?”
He looked toward her. “Anything?”
“I’ll pass for now,” she said, clearly surprising him, but he said nothing as the waitress walked away to get their check.
Once the young woman was gone, he leaned close and said, “If I remember correctly, you used to have a wicked sweet tooth.”
She dipped her head toward him and said, “I still do, but I thought we could hit up the ice-cream parlor on the way back to the inn.”
“No argument here. That place is my fave.”
They seemed to have a lot of common faves, from Sea Kiss to the old building to the ice-cream parlor, but was that enough of a foundation for the future?
After the check was settled, he rose and offered her his hand again. She took hold, and he twined his fingers with hers. Comfort filled her with that simple gesture. They walked down and out of the restaurant and strolled back toward the center of town. They ambled past Main Street to the next block, where the old-fashioned counter-style ice-cream parlor reigned next to a number of smaller businesses. Even with the later hour, there was a line of people out the door, but it moved quickly thanks to the efficient staff behind the counter. In a few weeks, the place would close for the winter season.
As in the restaurant, Jonathan was greeted warmly by the servers and the cashier.
“You have made a lot of friends in your travels,” Connie said with a lick of her caramel waffle cone ice cream.
Her comment, instead of being taken as a compliment, seemed to shake him. She laid a hand on his arm, urging him to stop and face her. “I didn’t mean anything bad by that, Jon.”
He shrugged and avoided her gaze, but she cupped his jaw and applied gentle pressure until he met her questioning gaze. “I guess I’ve let all my dad’s negative comments eat at me for too long,” he said.
She swiped her thumb across his lips that were chilled from the ice cream he’d just eaten. Smiling, she followed her caress with a kiss, warming his lips with hers, tasting the slight sweetness from his treat. Trying to lighten the mood again, she whispered against his lips, “Didn’t take you for a vanilla kind of guy.”
He groaned, cupped the back of her head, and kept her near, deepening the kiss. Licking all around her mouth and pulling her closer until the chill of his cone registered against the skin of her upper arm.
With a chuckle against his lips, she said, “I think you’re melting.”
He shot a glance at the cone and the ice cream smeared against her arm and dribbling down across his fingers. A dimpled grin spread across his lips before he bent and licked away the spot of ice cream on her bicep, shooting a wave of heat through her body.
She mimicked his gesture, took hold of his wrist, and held his hand steady as she licked the melted confection from his fingers. “Sweet,” she said.
He swooped in for a brief but intense kiss and retreated to say, “Sweeter.”
She wanted to toss aside her ice cream and haul him back to the inn to show him just how sweet it could be between them, but passion had never been an issue with them, just everything else. Because of that, she grabbed hold of his hand and swung it playfully as she said, “There’s a nice breeze tonight. I bet it’s even nicer on the boardwalk.”
He breathed out a laugh and said, “Not too obvious, Reyes.”
Despite that, he strolled with her to the boardwalk while they ate their ice creams. The breeze was stronger but not unpleasant. They sauntered southward toward the jetty and the lighthouse, then leaned against the railing surrounding the lighthouse to silently watch the ships far out at sea and the sweep of the light across the whitecaps the wind had kicked up.
As the breeze grew ever stronger, it chilled her, and she shivered in his arms.
“Ready to go back to the inn?” he asked.
Chapter 15
Jonathan held his breath as he waited for her answer. Ridiculous, he told himself. Where else was she supposed to go? Not to mention there were two rooms.
“Yes, that would be nice,” she said.
With a nod, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to offer some protection against the wind, and she tucked herself into his side. The soft fullness of her breast pressed against his chest while her rounded hip bumped his as they walked. It felt right in so many ways, but he didn’t want to read more into it. Whatever this was going on between them was just too fresh and too uncertain.
He didn’t make any assumptions about their quickened pace. It was chillier thanks to the stronger breeze and maybe even the ice cream they’d eaten, which had stolen some of their body heat. Within minutes, they were turning up Main Street and back toward the inn a block away from the ocean.
He used his key to unlock the front door and enter the lobby. Soft lights were on to welcome guests, and they treaded softly up the stairs so as not to disturb anyone who had already settled down for the night. When they entered the suite, a light on one of the end tables cast a warm, welcoming glow. A bowl of fresh fruit and a dish with chocolates sat on the coffee table beside a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and crystal flutes.
“Did you do this?” she asked, taking in the sight of the treats.
“I wish I could take credit for this, but I can’t. Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it.” He walked over to the champagne, grabbed the bottle, deftly opened it. He poured bubbly into the glasses and handed one to her.
She eyed the glass and kidded, “Trying to get me drunk, Mr. Pierce?”
He shook his head vehemently. “No way, Reyes. I want you totally aware of everything we do.”
“And what will we do?” she said as she strolled toward the couch, glass in hand, and sat.
“Whatever you’d like,” he said, which earned a moue from her.
“Because you don’t want to assume or rush me? Because you want me to be in control of what happens?” she challenged, confusing him with the hint of pique in her voice.
He joined her on the couch and took a sip of the chilled champagne. He examined her as he said, “Too much pressure, Reyes?”
She surprised him with a nod. “If I get involved with you—”
“When, not if,” he corrected.
She directed a laser-sharp look at him. “When. I want a partnership where you and I”—she motioned between the two of them—“do this together.”
He couldn’t resist her when she got too serious. But he also couldn’t resist shattering that composure. “I prefer together. Doing it alone is never as much fun.”
A sharp chuckle burst from her. “You’re so bad.”
He scooted across the couch until his knee brushed her thigh. “You may deny it, but I think that you like that.”
She shook her head but avoided his gaze.
He dipped his head so she couldn’t avoid him and said, “Come on, admit it.”
She pushed
his chest playfully, urging him away as she said, “If I admitted it, you’d be even worse.”
With a laugh, he said, “I’ll take that, Reyes.” He reached over to the chocolates on the table, picked one up, and offered it to her. She took a bite of the creamy truffle, and he finished off the rest of the treat. He took another sip of his champagne, and she did the same, finishing off her glass.
He went to refill the glass, but she held her hand over the flute to stop him. With a nod, he returned the bottle to the ice bucket and gave his attention to her, trying to read the signals there. Trying to figure out where to take this night.
* * *
Connie searched his features, hesitant about what he wanted. Unsure of what she wanted. Their physical attraction had always been intense, but beneath that was an allure of a different kind. His humor and intelligence. His kindness. His strength. Beneath that undemanding and easygoing persona, he had a backbone of steel. He’d had to develop one to survive his father.
She wanted to experience that strength. That kindness.
She leaned in and skated a kiss across his lips, tracing the hard line of them, nipping at his full lower lip, and urging him to open to her.
He accepted the slide of her tongue, met it with his. He tasted of champagne, chocolate, and Jonathan, an intriguing mix that had her meeting his kiss over and over. Had her straining to be against his hard body until he bracketed her waist with his hands and urged her onto his lap. He inched his hands to her back and splayed them there, dragging her tight to his chest.
Her breasts brushed that wall of muscle and tingled from the contact. At her center, the hard ridge of his erection pressed into her as she straddled his legs. Her insides clenched with want, but she fought against that desire, afraid of losing herself to that need again.
He must have sensed her conflict, because he slowly tempered his kisses and gentled his hold. She leaned her forehead against his and sucked in a rough breath, whispering, “You make me want to forget everything.”
He tunneled his fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp. “The passion is still there, Reyes, but I understand. It’s not any easier for me.”
What Happens in Summer Page 13