Besotted: An Enemies-to-Lovers Small-town Romance (Carmel Cove Book 3)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  After several weeks of research and visits to every outdoor-gear shop within a fifty-mile radius, I’d found the perfect model to fit my needs and my car, and it was just a matter of waiting for my lease to finally be up.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at the portable home attached to the roof of my Wrangler. The thick gray canvas material of the tent was heavier than most ground-based tents on the market. It had only taken minutes to set up the eight-foot by four-and-a-half-foot living space that was more than enough room for me.

  The tent had large screened side windows that looked out over the ocean from where my Jeep was parked on the sand, the ladder dropping down from the entrance to the sandy base by the back tire; the telescoping ladder was one of the reasons I’d bought the more expensive model otherwise I would’ve needed an extension for the way the Jeep was lifted.

  I’d put the rainfly on because they were calling for some showers tonight, but tomorrow I was hoping it would be clear enough for me to take advantage of the Skypanels in the roof of the tent and check out the stars.

  The fact that the foam mattress was ridiculously comfortable for a fucking tent that attached to the roof of my car was an added plus I hadn’t expected.

  I was eliminating my footprint. Getting by with just what I needed, plus whiskey, and tossing the rest of my income into savings. What I’d do with that money, I had no idea. Maybe give it to my brother. My sister. My parents. Maybe I’d donate it when it became even more sizable. I had no clue. All I knew was I didn’t need it.

  I didn’t need much of anything.

  And I definitely didn’t need anyone.

  I sighed heavily into the ocean breeze, ignoring the way every inch of my skin pricked alert at the chill, and then had to laugh.

  There I was, standing butt-ass naked on the fuckin’ coast of California, planning on living in a car-top tent. Two years ago, I would’ve laughed at the notion that I’d be distancing myself from my brother, drifting between work weeks and one-night stands, rock climbing, and drinking far more than I should.

  But two years ago, I also would’ve laughed at the notion that my fiancé would’ve betrayed me the way she did.

  My body hardened with hot anger. I needed to forget the man I was and the life I’d been so infatuated with living because it had blinded and then destroyed me.

  They say a wise man builds his house on the rock and a foolish one on the sand.

  I smirked at my new house parked on the sand.

  I was a foolish man.

  But maybe this foolish man didn’t have a choice. Maybe this foolish man knew that even on the rock, his house couldn’t be saved. Better that it not be built to last rather than have the stony promise of forever be unexpectedly shattered out from underneath him once more.

  Eve

  “Okay, guys, you’re going to have to trust me, this is definitely going to be worth it,” I promised the crew of eleven girls who trekked behind me on the beach.

  Eight of them still lived in the Blooms house. Of the other three, Kenzie had ‘graduated’ from the program and now lived locally in town, and Prescott was a childhood friend of Kenzie’s who’d come to stay for the summer and was thinking about moving up here from New Mexico. She was really pleasant and outspoken, but it was the kind of liveliness that seemed almost too bright so no one would see the shadows that lurked underneath.

  The last girl was Cammie—Cambria Mariano. I’d finally gotten the chance to stop in at the bakery the other morning to pick up some muffins for Roasters, and ran into the quiet, beautiful blonde in the back kitchen, her focus almost in a daze, staring at the oven. I’d invited her to my class, assuring her it was a small group, and she’d agreed, albeit hesitantly, to come.

  Cammie was a sweetheart and had always been timid, but lately, since she moved home, that shyness seemed more pronounced. I didn’t want to say it—I didn’t want to think it—but her demeanor reminded me a lot of the other women when they first arrived at Blooms, so I tried to make her feel as welcome as possible, wondering if maybe she was in need of shelter from someone, too.

  “Do you think we’ll be out here every week then?” Jo wondered as I marched us away from the main area of the beach toward the small path that led to the private cove.

  It had been a week since Addy asked me to move out. A week since I’d gone toe-to-toe with Miles in the bar. A week that I’d had to sort through my thoughts and muddle through feelings that seemed to blurt out contradictory opinions every other minute.

  A week since a few subtle shifts seemed to have turned my world on its axis.

  It wasn’t upside-down, it just wasn’t upright.

  I’d also started working at the Pub.

  And by started, I meant Benny had shown me the ropes last Saturday before it got busy—thankfully not so busy as to include Miles in the crowd again to witness my first-day-floundering. I’d gone in again every night this week for only an hour or so of training, but tomorrow night would be my first night actually on the job. Taking orders. Serving drinks.

  My arms began to itch with anxiety. Calm down, Eve. It’s going to be fine.

  I wasn’t so sure about that but at least this class would help settle my mind beforehand.

  I looked over my shoulder, adjusting my yoga mat that I’d slung over it. “If you guys like it better than the park, I hope so. The day I was out here, the sound of the ocean was so incredibly calming, I think it would be a perfect backdrop for our class,” I replied.

  As much as I loved the public park in Carmel, it was somewhat limited on space in the middle of summer when the weather was so nice.

  “I think it sounds perfect,” Mia murmured quietly by my side.

  She was the newest addition to the group and had come to Blooms very shy and reserved, probably understandable if I knew her story. I didn’t. I didn’t even think Addy knew the full extent, but what we did know was that she was opening up more to us and the other girls each day, especially during the group activities, like yoga.

  “Are we allowed to be out here?” Kylie wondered innocently.

  I cringed as my toes pushed deep into the sand as we began to round the bend into the cove. I was grateful that neither Addy or Zeke had questioned my change in venue location because I didn’t have an answer to that question.

  I wasn’t quite sure if this part of the beach was still public or if it belonged to someone.

  “I haven’t come across any private property signs,” I whispered conspiratorially, hoping I wouldn’t meet with any resistance.

  I didn’t.

  As soon as we rounded the corner, a gasp echoed through the group of women as the sunset bathed the ocean and cove in oranges and yellows.

  “Beautiful,” Mia murmured next to me as we stopped in the clearing of sand.

  We all stood for a moment and watched the lazy ebb and flow of the tide creep in to welcome us and then drift back as though it was too shy.

  There was a burnt orange sash along the horizon that faded into a bright blue just before disappearing into the night sky. The moon must love the summer because it rose early enough in the sky to catch the fading display of colors before the night took over its shift and covered everything in darkness.

  “Alright, guys,” I beamed, even more excited about the class now seeing the awe on all of their faces. “Let’s get started.”

  I motioned everyone into two lines in front of me, laying my sunflower yellow mat down to face them and stepping onto it, lining my toes with the edge. There was a slight chill in the air, but I still took off my zip-up jacket knowing that once we started flowing, I would be too warm.

  Left in my cropped navy yoga pants and a matching navy sports bra underneath a sheer lightweight tank, I began rolling my neck to stretch out my shoulders as the girls finished getting situated.

  “Okay, ladies,” I began with a smile that fueled my determination. Whatever it took… whatever I had to do… I would figure out a way to save the rest of the money for
my studio. “I know not all of you have been attending my other weekly sessions, so we are going to start off nice and easy tonight, especially for the newcomers.” I nodded over to Prescott and Mia.

  “As we begin, I always like to dedicate our practice to something, to give us a theme to focus our energy toward for the coming week.”

  This was something I always did, even when I did yoga by myself. Giving the practice an uplifting purpose reminded me that it wasn’t just an excuse to wear yoga pants for an hour or lay down into corpse pose and take a nap. Dedicating the practice of yoga to an internal motivation solidified its importance.

  I’d worked up a whole plan for the next few weeks, but in the moment, my current predicament spoke out over what I had originally planned to say.

  “Tonight, I’d like to dedicate this practice to perseverance in spite of setbacks. Lately, I’ve had a set-back on the road to pursuing my dream of opening my own studio, and I felt a lot of moments of weakness and self-doubt. But I know what I’m going through isn’t as important as where I am going. So, as we breathe and look inward, I’d like us to keep our energy focused on where we are going, and knowing no matter how long it takes or how many bumps there are in the road, we. Will. Get. There.”

  I blinked and realized the effect my words had on the other girls, seeing the way their spines straightened ever so slightly taller, the way their heads bobbed in agreement.

  Clearing my throat, I continued, “First, I want us to take a minute to focus on our breath.” My words came out with a long exhale, slow and calm. “Focus on the sound of the ocean, use it to help guide your breathing. A nice deep breath in, hold it in your stomach, and then release.” I paused as I let out my own exhale. “In yoga, we call this Ujjayi breathing or sometimes, ‘the ocean breath.’”

  Once I saw everyone was belly-breathing, I let my eyes drift shut and allowed my own thoughts to fade away against the powerful calmness of the ocean and its breath.

  “Remember, no matter what happens, we keep breathing. We keep moving. We persevere.” Another pause had the light dim a little more from the horizon, and I began with a series of simple sun salutations, slowly finding the rhythm of the group.

  For perseverance, I chose poses that emphasized steadiness and strength, both ingredients in physical and mental perseverance. I left my post in the front of the class in order to walk through the mats and assist some of the girls with their Warrior One poses, though I was pleased to see how most of them didn’t need much help.

  “Remember, it’s okay if your balance falters,” I said smoothly as I reached for Mia’s arms, steadying her as she began to shift and wobble to the side. “Perseverance isn’t about getting it perfect on the first try. It’s about getting back up when you fall.” I held her until she stabilized. “It’s about pushing through the unsteadiness.”

  I could’ve stayed out there all night, but I knew the hour was almost up when I saw the small audience of stars that began to creep out over the ledge of the rock wall that jutted up along the back of the cove.

  Moving through a seated sequence, I instructed, “I want you to take one more deep breath, and then on the exhale, lie back with your legs relaxed and your palms facing up as we end our practice tonight in corpse pose.”

  Again, my eyes drifted shut, joining my yoginis in their last pose of the night.

  “Focus on your breathing once again and when you are ready, you can open your eyes and come back up to seated.”

  I should’ve been the first one to sit up, but this class tonight was just as much for me as it was for them, so I stayed on my back for just one second longer.

  “Eve…” My eyes shot open, rising to see Prescott and Jo sitting up and staring past me. “Is that… is someone in the ocean?”

  My head whipped around, squinting through my glasses at the oily black surface of the sea. It took a moment, but then I saw what they were talking about—a small head dipping in and out of the water at an appreciable distance from the shore but farther into the cove.

  “Stay here and pack up your things,” I instructed firmly. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Do you want us—”

  “No.” I shook my head, looking back to see a range of expressions on the girls’ faces, ranging from concern to intrigue to fear. There was no way I was going to risk the safety they felt living here by bringing them with me over toward a strange person in the water. “I’m just going to walk right over there on the beach, right by where the rocks come out, and call out and make sure that person is okay.”

  I didn’t think we were in any danger. I was really more concerned about the person swimming alone in the ocean at this time of night. Plus, I had self-defense training and, with these women and their history, it was better to play it safe and have them stay together while I searched out answers.

  My bare feet kicked up sand as I jogged several yards away from the group and closer to the water’s edge.

  It was definitely a person out there, I concluded as I got closer and the floating head began to move back toward the shore.

  I gasped when my toes touched the cold water, not realizing how close I’d gotten to it.

  I pulled my glasses tighter against my face and squinted. Even though the person wasn’t that far from me or the shore now, with the dimming light it was impossible to see much. I pulled up my pant legs to my knees and waded in farther, preparing to swim out there if I saw any sign of distress.

  I cupped my hands around my mouth and waded deeper as I yelled, “Hello! Are you okay?”

  The head that was lazily heading back for shore whipped toward mine as the man it belonged to stood. At first, I’d thought it was a woman because the person had their hair pulled back into a bun. Wrong. Very. Very. Wrong.

  A very well-sculpted chest rose from the water like a god of the sea. The water came to just about halfway up his torso, the half above the surface glistened with salty droplets that rolled like small white lights off of him as they caught and reflected the most sparse sunlight.

  My toes dug into the sand, the water now about halfway up my calves, as I squinted.

  Even though dusk made the cove so beautiful, it blended so many shadows together making it impossible to make out his face, only the harshest of lines like the curve of his jaw and the cuts in the top of his abs.

  He began to move toward me but didn’t respond.

  Gulping, I yelled again, “I was just teaching a yoga class, and one of my students saw you, and I just wanted to see if you were okay or if you might need help. You really shouldn’t be swimming in the ocean at night without anyone else here.” I bit into my tongue.

  Way to go, Eve. Way to scold the man.

  If awkward blubbering was a superpower, I could take down any evil with my adept embarrassment.

  Above the ocean’s hum, I swore I heard a growl as he waded closer. My lips parted as the water sloshed lower and lower down his chest, each step revealing more toned skin that the shadows couldn’t hide. I wondered if he might be a merman or Poseidon, rising from the depths to take me back down with him.

  My head tipped to the side.

  I wondered if I would need my glasses living underneath the sea.

  I shook my head. Ridiculous. Adjusting said glasses, it seemed like I blinked and the god of the ocean was now only a few feet in front of me.

  “Eve.” The single syllable of my name crashed over me like a rough, angry wave.

  He wasn’t a god.

  He wasn’t even a merman.

  He was my mistake.

  Eve

  “Miles?” I croaked, the shock of the realization was crushed by the water pooling dangerously low on his hips.

  He wasn’t wearing a suit.

  My lips parted.

  All the water in the ocean couldn’t have wet the dry dunes of my mouth as my eyes skated down his chest, the coarse, dusky hair matted against the hard planes and knots of his abs, narrowing into a small trail that shot straight between the V of h
is hips before branching out at the very top of his—

  My eyes whipped back up to his. One more step. One subtle retreat of the water level and… I’d be able to see everything.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” His hazel-gold eyes were like beacons trained on me.

  My mouth opened and shut for a moment before I blurted out, “I was just teaching my yoga class, and we saw you in the ocean. Why are you here? Why are you swimming so late? It’s not safe for you to be out there right now. What if something happened?”

  “Eve.” His growl silenced me as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Forget about me. You shouldn’t be here.” He looked over my shoulder at the girls from Blooms. “Fuck. You can’t teach a yoga class here.”

  My eyes narrowed. I had this thing… when people told me I couldn’t do something. “Why not?” I retorted, folding my arms.

  “Because it’s not your property. And it’s dark out.”

  “So, it’s your property?” I smarted, praying I wasn’t in for one more unwelcome surprise. “Because I didn’t see a sign that said ‘Belongs to Miles Madison.’”

  His lips thinned, and I hated how it forced me to remember that no matter how harsh the frown, the lips that made it were incredibly soft.

  His look was a liar. Hard and callous hiding heat and care.

  “You can’t be here,” he repeated, and I realized we were in a turf war for this cove.

  “If I can’t be here than neither can you,” I said firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. The gold in his eyes turned molten. “And you definitely can’t be here swimming naked,” I added in a harsh whisper like there was anyone around who could hear.

  I realized the moment I’d given him the upper hand—the moment when a small, deviously playful smile tipped one corner of his lips up.

  “If me being naked makes you uncomfortable, you are more than welcome to leave my beach.”

  I fumed. “Look, Miles, it’s not your beach. I’m having my yoga class here for the next several weeks and there’s nothing you can do to stop me, especially not while you’re swimming naked in the ocean,” I accused saucily, shoving my glasses high on the bridge of my nose, and raised my chin.