by Addison Cole
A banner hanging from the front of her table read LUSCIOUS LEANNA’S SWEET TREATS in red letters on a white background. She was talking with a young guy in the next booth as Kurt approached. Pepper began barking and running toward him, but he was tethered to the table by a long white rope. The jars on the table collided.
Leanna flipped her hair over her shoulder with one sharp turn of her head. “Peppe—” Her eyes widened. “Kurt.”
Pepper clawed at his legs. Kurt narrowed his eyes at him. “Sit.”
Pepper sat on his butt, wagging his tail.
“What are you doing here?” Leanna asked. She glanced back at the young guy in the tank top she’d been talking with.
Kurt sized him up as he loaded crates full of records into his old orange van. Handsome. Well built. Looking at Leanna like she’s the main course. He nodded in greeting to the guy, then handed Leanna her clothes.
“You left these at my place, so I thought I’d bring them over.” Now he had the guy in the next booth’s full attention.
“I did? Oh gosh. I’m sorry.” She put the clothes in her van and began packing the jars into insulated coolers.
“I’m not.” Kurt felt the guy’s eyes on him.
She stopped packing and met his gaze. “But you brought them all the way here and you could be writing.”
“You look familiar. Are you that thriller writer?” the guy from the other booth asked.
“Oh gosh. Carey, this is Kurt. Kurt, Carey.” Leanna continued packing the jars as she spoke.
Kurt held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
The guy’s eyes lit up. “Cool. I read all your books.”
“Great. Hope you enjoy them.” And keep your eyes off of Leanna.
“Yeah, they’re really good.” His eyes darted between Leanna and Kurt.
Pepper began whining and pulling against the rope again. Kurt caught two jars as they fell from the table.
“Sit,” he said to Pepper.
Pepper obeyed with another whimper.
“Good catch.” Leanna came around the table and reached for the jars.
Kurt trapped her finger beneath his, and when she looked up at him, his pulse sped up. She was breathing hard, and he could see the strap of her dark bikini beneath her tank top, and the image of her in the itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny bikini sent heat right through him.
“So, Leanna, are we still on for the beach?” Carey asked.
She looked at Kurt and trapped her lower lip between her teeth.
On for the beach? Come on, you’re dating this guy? He glanced at Carey’s beaten-up old van parked behind Leanna’s van. I’m a complete idiot. He released Leanna’s fingers.
“Um.” She looked up at Kurt again with an oh-no look in her eyes.
“Hey, don’t let me interrupt. I just wanted to bring you your clothes.” He nodded at Carey, then forced a smile for Leanna. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. I guess,” she said.
He turned to walk away, feeling like a complete jackass. Of course a woman like her would go out with a young, free-spirited guy with similar interests. What was he thinking? What would a woman like Luscious Leanna see in a man who spent hours behind a keyboard, found the ocean sticky, and rarely left the house? Pepper barked and barked. He whimpered and whined, and Kurt kept walking.
There he was getting excited just thinking about taking her to a stupid drive-in movie when he should have been writing. He shook his head. What the devil was wrong with him?
He tried to block out Pepper’s incessant barking. A loud crash—glass shattering against pavement—broke through his thoughts. He turned as Pepper arrived beside him, barking, clawing at his legs. With his eyes, he followed the trail of rope hanging from Pepper’s collar to Leanna, standing among several broken bottles of jam, her legs splattered with red goo.
Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Walk away. Just get in the car and leave. Carey had staked claim to Leanna, and she obviously was interested in him. Kurt should climb into his car, drive away from there, and go write. Wasting time was not on his agenda. He had no business walking to the men’s room and filling his hands with wet paper towels. He shouldn’t have made a beeline for her, or gotten down on one knee to wipe off the jam from her lean, sexy legs. She wasn’t his to take care of, and Carey was right there beside her. But Carey was busy taking down his own booth, and other than handing Leanna a towel, he was doing nothing to help her—and that pissed off Kurt. He didn’t deserve Leanna. What type of man didn’t help a woman in a situation like this? Kurt wasn’t working on what he should or shouldn’t do. He was driven by something stronger—something he hadn’t ever felt before—the desire to be someplace other than in front of his beloved keyboard. He wanted to be right there, helping Leanna.
He picked up Pepper and put him in the van with a sharp, “Stay.”
“I’m okay. It’s okay. Really. Go write. I’m a total time suck,” Leanna said.
She had a sliver of a cut along the top of her right foot, and he knew she could handle a few broken jars—although the thought of Leanna with a broom and broken glass scared the life out of him. She’d be fine without him, but darn it, he wanted to handle it with her. For her.
“I’ve got this.” He borrowed a broom and dustpan from the snack bar manager and arranged to have buckets of water brought out to clear the sticky jam from the area.
Half an hour later, he returned the push broom and other supplies he’d borrowed, and Leanna’s booth was clean, her van full.
“So? Off to the beach?” Carey flashed a smile and ran his hand through his hair.
Leanna met Kurt’s gaze. The sun was slowly descending, and it cast a soft light along her hair, highlighting nearly blond natural highlights in her brown hair that he had somehow missed yesterday. Her skin glistened from her efforts, her tank top hung off of one shoulder, wet between her breasts from sweat, and her short, white cotton skirt was speckled with red jam. She looked like the most adorable hot mess he’d ever seen, and Pepper stuck his head out of the van window, panting happily, as if he hadn’t just caused the mess.
Kurt touched the edge of her skirt and tsked. “Make a paste with baking soda; soak those spots and then wash it. That’ll come out.”
Leanna tilted her head. “How do you know that?”
“I looked it up on the Internet last night before I washed your shorts. I didn’t think you wanted red handprints on your butt forever.” He nodded at Carey. “Have fun at the beach.” Lucky bastard.
As he walked away, he felt the heat of Leanna’s stare on his back, and while it brought a smile to his lips, it wasn’t nearly enough.
Chapter Six
HAVE FUN AT the beach? How could she have fun at the beach after he’d been such a gentleman and stuck around and cleaned up her mess knowing she was going someplace with Carey? She glanced at the passenger seat, where Pepper was fast asleep on top of the clothes he’d brought. And washed. And looked up how to remove the stain. Ugh. She’d never understand men. If he was interested in her, he could have asked her out or said something. Maybe he wasn’t interested. Maybe she’d misread all of his signals. And his physical reaction? No way. Not a chance. That much she understood about men. Leanna followed Carey’s van in her own on the way to Cahoon Hollow Beach and decided that she couldn’t change what had already happened, and she might as well enjoy the beach before the sun went down.
The sand was still hot from the afternoon sun. Leanna and Carey tossed their towels in the dry sand and ran toward the water with Pepper barking alongside them. Carey dropped his shirt and shorts along the way, and Leanna threw her shirt and shimmied out of her skirt, thinking about what the girls had said about her bathing suit. She’d have to watch Carey and see if they were right. She ran into the icy water with a squeal. Pepper followed her in.
“Cold!” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Carey popped up from under a wave and shook his hair like a puppy shakes its fur. “You’ll get used to
it. Come on.”
She followed him deeper into the ocean, hoping she’d get used to the icy water. They rode the waves until their bodies were numb. Leanna loved the ocean, the bay, the beach, the mountains, snow, rain… There wasn’t much Leanna didn’t love about life. Maybe that’s my problem. I want to be in the thick of it, and most jobs make me feel like I’m missing something.
“Your lips are blue. We should get out,” Carey said with a wide smile.
He walked beside her as they made their way back to their towels. He was lean and fit and so tan that he looked like he lived on the beach, though Leanna knew he didn’t. He, like Leanna, moved around a lot, but unlike Leanna, he often slept in his van.
“That was awesome.” He wiped his face with the towel, and Leanna noticed his eyes lingering on her chest.
Yup, the girls were right. The bathing suit is a killer.
“So refreshing.” She sat down on her towel and slipped her T-shirt over her head.
Pepper plopped down beside her in the sand.
“Hey, so how do you know Kurt?”
Just hearing his name made her feel bad again. She wondered if he was writing, bare chested, sitting on the deck. She wondered if he was thinking of her. She liked the feel of his chest. A map of muscles and smooth skin, with that interesting tattoo. And those bright blue eyes that always seemed so focused and intense. He was…perfect. Oh my gosh. What am I thinking?
“Pepper got caught in the ocean the other night in the rain and he rescued him.” She shrugged, as if it were nothing, when in fact it had been the one thing all summer that had stuck like glue in her mind. Or more specifically, he had been the one thing that stuck like glue. She glanced at Carey and felt guilty for wishing he were Kurt.
“Cool.” He looked out over the water. “You wanna grab a beer?”
No, I want to go see Kurt. She was torturing herself. Kurt hadn’t asked her out, and he’d basically kicked her out the other night. Then she’d kicked him out. Ugh. She thought about the moment on the deck when she’d thought he might kiss her, and now she wondered if she’d imagined it. Though she knew she hadn’t imagined his obvious physical arousal. It was no use. She sucked at everything having to do with men. She was too outspoken, too uninhibited, too unsettled, which was why she never tried to pick men up, and forget knowing how to show she was interested. She turned into a fumbling, klutzy nimrod when she liked a guy.
A few drinks might be just what she needed to get Kurt out of her head.
“Sure.”
After taking Pepper back to the cottage and putting away her flea market supplies, she joined Carey on the deck of the Beachcomber, overlooking the water. The Beachcomber was built at the crest of a bluff with a large covered deck that overlooked the ocean. Loud music, alcohol, and laughs were staples at the Beachcomber. Carey loved to dance as much as Leanna did. They danced, shared a burger and fries, and danced some more. They met a group of women and men who were vacationing from Canada and talked with them for an hour. By the time they headed back to their vans, Leanna was too tipsy to drive.
“Are you pretty sober?” she asked.
“I only had two beers. I’m good. But you were really putting them down. You okay?”
“Do you mind driving me home?” She leaned against his van, wishing she hadn’t had the last two drinks. She’d been trying to distract herself from thoughts of Kurt, but nothing seemed to help. She kept picturing him at the flea market, feeling the intimate touch of his finger holding hers when he handed her the jar of jam and how quickly he’d let go when she told Carey she’d go to the beach with him.
“No prob.” He opened the door and she climbed in.
They rode in silence down the main drag, and Pepper greeted them with a loud bark as they pulled into her driveway.
“That was fun. Thanks, Carey.”
He narrowed his eyes and leaned across the seat. Before she could register what he was doing, his lips were on hers in a hard kiss. When he pulled back, she was still blinking away the surprise, but his hand resting on her thigh definitely registered.
He leaned in close again, and Leanna shook herself out of her stupor and splayed her palm on his chest with a little shove. “Sorry, Carey, but I’m not really…”
“Oh come on. Really? We have a great time together.”
They did have a great time together, but she didn’t feel that type of attraction to Carey, and if she’d been at all confused before, that absolute-zero-spark-inducing kiss had proved it.
“We do have fun. I love hanging out with you, but I’m not really looking for…” She looked down at his hand on her thigh. “More.” Liar.
He sat back and put his hands up. “Hey, it’s cool. No worries. I just thought we were both on the same page with you asking me to drive you home and all.”
“I’m sorry. I really did have too much to drink.” Leanna hated making anyone unhappy, and she genuinely liked Carey as a friend, but her mind had already drifted to Kurt, and then she felt even worse. She was leaving a wake of unhappiness everywhere she went, and it was so unlike her that she sobered up quickly and stepped out of the van.
“I’m sorry, Carey. You’re great, really. I’m just…Ugh. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no sweat. I had fun tonight.”
She watched him drive away and wondered if she should have said something else, but she’d never been good at this type of thing. She headed inside. The flea market wasn’t open tomorrow, maybe she’d sleep in and work on new recipes. No, she should get up early and have one of the girls take her to get her van before they went out for the day. With that settled, she took Pepper for a walk, then took a quick shower and climbed beneath the sheets, wishing it had been Kurt’s lips pressed against hers instead of Carey’s.
Chapter Seven
IF THERE WAS one thing Kurt was sure of, it was that he was never going to concentrate with Leanna’s bike in his garage. Not knowing that he didn’t have a chance with her. Dressed for his morning run, he pulled her bike out and looked it over. Pink. Of course. With a small basket on the front and a larger basket on the back like Miss Gulch in The Wizard of Oz.
Perfect. Just perfect.
He’d found her bike lying on the ground at the end of the beach access road, and he’d ridden back to his house in the dark the night they’d met. He glanced at his sports car, realizing he didn’t want to chance marring the leather by manhandling the bike into it, even with the top down. There was no way it would fit in the trunk without some elaborate tying down. With a loud, frustrated sigh, he put the bag of things he’d picked up for Leanna into the basket and felt a pang of longing chased by something akin to anger only not quite as harsh, directly to his heart. He stared at the bag. He couldn’t even get Leanna out of his head enough to forgo buying the things she needed. For the first time in his life—and he’d experienced a lot of firsts since meeting Leanna—he felt like the very definition of the word fool. He was sure if he Googled the word, his picture would appear, and he was powerless to do anything short of climbing on the bike and riding it the mile and a half to Leanna’s cottage.
Thankfully, there wasn’t much traffic on the back roads at seven in the morning. He could only imagine what he looked like. He was a foot too tall to be riding the bike in the first place. Add the pink color and the baskets, and he looked like he’d either stolen the stupid thing or he was more interested in men than women.
He stepped off the bike when he came to the entrance of Seaside, and instead of heading directly to Leanna’s cottage, he walked the bike around the other side of the development, where he found a gray building with LAUNDRY painted over the door and noticed that Leanna’s van wasn’t parked there. He followed the narrow gravel road around the bend, passing a large house on the left, which seemed out of place among the cozy cottages, and three more cottages on his right, before coming to a pool. He paused for a moment, trying to reconcile the postage-stamp-sized houses with the large swimming pool. There weren’t many in-ground pool
s on the Cape besides the ones at the motels, and it intrigued him. A pool would offer something even the ocean could not. He could jump in to cool off and not have to worry about being sticky with sea salt when he went back to writing. His eyes fell to the bike, and he pushed away the daydream and continued up the road to Leanna’s cottage.
Her driveway was empty.
I park it by the laundry room.
His chest tightened with the realization that she’d probably spent the night at Carey’s.
None of my business.
Shoot.
He opened the gate to the deck, and Pepper barked from behind a window screen, nearly giving him a heart attack.
“Come on, Pepper,” he said through clenched teeth. “Hush. Please.” He leaned the bike against the house.
Pepper stopped barking and panted.
He touched the screen with his finger and Pepper licked it. “Did she forget you last night?”
Leanna’s face appeared behind Pepper. She blinked several times and sleepily rubbed her eyes.
“I could never forget Pepper.” She hugged Pepper’s head, and Pepper licked her cheek.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her devastatingly sexy bare shoulders.
“You brought my bike back?”
She smiled, and he felt his anger float away. He stifled the urge to say, Oh, come on. Not the smile? That’s not fair.
“Come on in,” she said through the window.
He watched her walk away and—wow—she was wearing only a pair of lace panties. She disappeared into the bedroom, and when she came back out, her arms were up in the air and a silk camisole was sliding down her bare chest. Kurt could. Not. Move.
She came out on the deck, took his hand, and—
A chipmunk ran across the deck inches in front of her feet.
“Did you see him? Wasn’t he the cutest little thing?” Her eyes widened, and the joy that she exuded was contagious.