A Bluewater Bay Collection

by Witt, L. A.

  “Yeah.” She exhaled. “It’s not pleasant.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  We halted and watched Misha digging for some unseen treasure in the sand. Then Natalya whispered, “Can I confess something?”

  I turned to her. “Okay?”

  She stared down at her sand-covered, tail-wagging dog. “I keep telling myself you’re not like the others. Like your ex and the people I’ve been with.” She pushed her shoulders back and met my gaze. “But I guess I still keep wondering what my purpose is with you.”

  I blinked. “Your purpose?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You mean . . . what I’m expecting to get from you? By dating you?”

  Natalya nodded.

  “That’s . . .” I shook my head. “Holy shit, Natalya. I . . . You think I’m—”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Her eyebrow rose. “It’s all I’ve really known with people.”

  In an instant, any defensiveness I might’ve felt vanished in favor of bone-deep sympathy. I reached for her and gently drew her to me. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I’ve never thought of you as a commodity. I can’t imagine anyone who would.”

  She brushed a strand of hair out of my face. “And I can’t imagine anyone who’d cheat on you. Or use you the way they did me.”

  “But they do.”

  “Yeah.” She swallowed. “They do.”

  I had no idea what to say. How to tell her I had the same deep-seated fears—that my psyche had zeroed in on at least one reason why she might do just that to me.

  She moistened her lips. “I want to do this. Or I’d never have given you a second chance, or come on to you at the gym.” Gaze down, she added, “But I’m a bit . . . cynical. Jaded.”

  “I can see why, if people have used you like that.”

  She winced.

  “For the record,” I said, “I’m not in this to use you. Yeah, I’m worried. Kind of nervous. This is . . . way out of my comfort zone, I guess.”

  “What relationship isn’t?”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  “I guess,” she whispered lifting her gaze, “what I’ve always wanted is to find someone who can’t get anything from me—money, a career boost, whatever—but who still wants me anyway.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach. “I think everyone wants that.”

  Natalya met my gaze. “Then why is it so hard to find?”

  “I . . .” The words died on my tongue. I didn’t know what to say that didn’t sound like empty platitudes or wouldn’t make me a goddamned hypocrite for having the same fears where she was concerned. After all, hadn’t I been suspicious that she was just using me as a placeholder until something better—something male—came along? Now I felt like an ass for ever thinking that.

  And yet I was still thinking it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, those nagging doubts remained. They didn’t make as much sense now, but they were still there.

  She tilted her head slightly, and I realized she was still waiting for me to finish my thought. I didn’t know what to say, so I just cupped her face, gently drew her in, and kissed her. She relaxed into my embrace, and I relaxed into hers, and though there were still questions hanging in the air, this was better than searching for answers that wouldn’t come. I didn’t want to use her. I didn’t want to lose her. I didn’t know how to convince her of that except . . . except like this.

  Abruptly, she broke the kiss with a laugh. “Shit!” She lunged for Misha, who’d just wrapped his leash around our legs. “Silly dog!”

  We erupted into giggles as we untangled ourselves. Once we were no longer in danger of being knocked flat by the crazy lab, she took my hand again. Our eyes locked.

  I still didn’t know what to say. Apparently she didn’t either, because neither of us said anything. We just exchanged subtle smiles, one more kiss, then continued walking down the beach together.

  I didn’t know if I felt better or worse about our situation.

  But her hand was still in mine.

  She was still beside me.

  That had to mean something.

  Right?

  * * *

  We kept our conversations lighter after that and wandered down the beach until we had to turn back or risk being late to the set. With Scott and Jeremy trailing behind us as always, we headed toward where we’d parked.

  Misha was starting to mellow out a little. His tail still wagged, and he still sniffed everything, but he was finally winding down. Instead of wiggling and bouncing with every step, he walked along with some slack in his leash.

  “Great,” Natalya said. “He’ll go over to my neighbor’s and sleep now that I’ve worn him out. I should do this when I come home so he sleeps for me.”

  I laughed. “You didn’t get a lab expecting a low-energy dog, did you?”

  “Of course not.” She grinned. “I like dogs like—”

  A Frisbee flew past me, narrowly missing my face.

  Natalya caught it. We both stared at it, blinking a few times. Then we looked around.

  A couple of guys in shorts jogged toward us.

  “Sorry about that,” the blond called out, a sheepish but smarmy grin on his face. “Guess the wind caught it.”

  “It happens.” Natalya smiled at him. “Here you go.”

  She handed the Frisbee back, and I bit down on a comment about the wind going the wrong way for anything to “accidentally” blow toward us. If anything, it was an impressive toss—he must’ve had damn good aim.

  “So, um . . .” The blond cleared his throat and gestured with the Frisbee at their buddies. “You, uh, want to join us?”

  “It’s always more fun with more people,” the other added.

  I barely kept myself from rolling my eyes. Way to be subtle, guys.

  “Thanks,” Natalya said. “But we’ve got to get going. Maybe next time.” Her smile set my teeth on edge, but I forced myself not to show it. She wasn’t flirting. She was just being polite.

  And even if she was, so what?

  So . . . I still wasn’t sure how I felt about dating a woman who was attracted to men.

  So . . . I still couldn’t make myself believe a man wouldn’t drop from the heavens and turn her head.

  So . . . I still had all those insecurities that had made me second-guess this thing in the beginning.

  Shit. Who was I kidding?

  Movement beside me caught my eye, and when I turned, I didn’t think I’d ever been so relieved to see Jeremy appear. He eyed the two guys, then looked at me, eyebrows up.

  One of the guys cleared his throat and took a step back. “Anyway, ah . . .” He held up the Frisbee. “Thanks. Sorry again.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Natalya said, still smiling. “Have fun, guys!”

  He flashed her a smile that made me want to kick him in the balls, but he wisely didn’t say anything else. He and his buddy went back to their friends and their game, and we continued up the beach with Scott and Jeremy. And my brain stayed right there in that short, stupid conversation.

  Because yeah, I was jealous.

  And I felt like an idiot. Was I really jealous of a couple of guys who’d not-so-subtly thrown a Frisbee toward us to break the ice? They were already halfway down the beach, no doubt working out a strategy to approach the next women they came across.

  I was being stupid. I needed to get a fucking grip.

  As we continued down the beach with Misha sniffing and wagging his tail in front of us, I slipped my hand into Natalya’s.

  This relationship didn’t feel like any I’d experienced before. Being with her was easy. But at the same time, I couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable when I was with her. This thing between us, it felt like a time bomb. Or some volatile thing that would wait until the moment I let my guard down, then blow up in my face.

  Early on, maybe I’d convinced myself I was okay with this relationship having an inevitable finite end. I’d known, and I’d gone into this anyway.


  So why did it feel like such a surprise now? Like I was being blindsided by something that had been right in front of me the whole time?

  I had no idea. All I knew for sure right then was that, man, it was going to hurt when she finally moved on.

  Chapter 17

  One sunny morning, I had some déjà vu of trying to get onto a closed set. Or a military base.

  At the end of the country club’s long, forested driveway, off-duty state troopers and county cops checked invitations, verifying that names matched photo IDs. Halfway up the driveway, another set of cops verified the same.

  “So when do they do the body-cavity searches?” Scott asked from the backseat as he tucked his ID back into his wallet.

  Jeremy chuckled. “I think you have to pay for those.”

  “They’re not included with the open bar?”

  Jeremy and I both laughed.

  “Knowing Levi,” I said, “they might actually be included.”

  “Perfect,” Scott said.

  I laughed and gazed out the window as Jeremy drove us up the remainder of the driveway to the country club lodge.

  Outside the lodge, several security guards were posted. With all those guys standing around in tuxes with sunglasses and semiconspicuous earpieces, one would’ve thought the president was visiting.

  Gotta love Hollywood weddings.

  I’d teased Levi about hiring some TSA agents to scan people on the way in, but Carter had shot me the most murderous look and warned me about giving him any ideas.

  I sympathized with Levi, though. He still resented the spotlight as it was—he loved his fans, but hated the media intrusion—and everyone knew celebrity weddings were a magazine’s wet dream. Make it a gay wedding between America’s heartthrob and a fairly-recently-out ex-action-star macho man, and the press had pretty much been frothing at the mouth for details since the guys announced their engagement. Someone had even put up an ad offering ten grand for a copy of an invitation—Levi had responded with a tweet saying, Let me know your preferred payment method, with a photo of an invite with all the pertinent details blurred out.

  So, I understood why he’d stopped just short of marrying Carter inside Fort Knox.

  The tabloids were itching for leaked photos, so the photographer the grooms had hired had signed a million agreements promising not to sell the photos to anyone but approved buyers. Guests had also been gently asked to please not take photos with their phones. There would certainly be images released to the public, but both men were incredibly guarded about their privacy.

  The location had been shrouded in secrecy for weeks. Though Levi and Carter weren’t members of the club, Hunter had made some calls and pulled some strings, and the club had agreed to host the wedding and keep it a secret.

  By the looks of the thin crowd of familiar faces heading inside, the secret had been successfully kept. I didn’t see any reporters around, and everyone seemed relaxed. The security guards were vigilant, but in the same way Jeremy was—ready in case anything happened, but obviously not overly concerned. Like they were present as a deterrent rather than with the expectation of actually needing to remove an uninvited guest.

  We walked past the guards and into the foyer. There, the guys’ engagement photo was framed above the guest book, and I couldn’t help a soft laugh as I signed the book. Carter had been joking for a while now about being stepdad to Levi’s two cats, and I rarely saw him at the house without Link hot on his heels or Zelda draped over his shoulder. But there was something simultaneously silly and touching about that photo and the way he was holding Link to his chest while Zelda lounged across his lap and Levi’s. That picture had leaked to social media—probably Levi’s doing—and fans were going nuts from the sheer cuteness. I couldn’t say I blamed them.

  Gazing at the photo, I smiled. The guys and their kitties made an adorable couple, and the most adorable little family. It had taken Levi a long, long time to find Carter, but as happy as they were, I had no doubt it was worth the wait. And even better, they could get married now. Legally. For real. That had been a pipe dream when Levi and I were younger, but here they were.

  “Anna?” Jeremy’s voice startled me.

  I swallowed and— When the hell had I started tearing up? Quickly wiping my eyes and hoping I didn’t mess up what little makeup I had on, I turned around. “Hmm?”

  He cocked his head. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’m good.” I cleared my throat. “Did we find a place to put the gifts?”

  He gestured past me. Beside the table with the guest book was a pile of gifts, but they weren’t for the couple. Instead of a wedding registry, Levi and Carter had asked guests to—if they felt compelled to give a gift—purchase something for the local cat rescue.

  Jeremy and I set our contributions on the table, and he chuckled. “You know, I’ve been to some weddings with shitty catering, but this—” he held up a can of Fancy Feast “—is definitely a first.”

  All three of us burst out laughing, which turned some heads, but whatever.

  Then we continued into the ballroom, which was still being arranged for the ceremony. Guests were trickling in, and I didn’t see Natalya yet. She was arriving a little bit later, since she had some other things to take care of this morning. Even on the day of a wedding, we all had to take advantage of rare blocks of time off.

  And since there was so much security, I decided there was no need for my bodyguard to be hot on my heels every minute of the day. If anyone disagreed, then I dared them to say something, but for now I left Jeremy and Scott to mingle while I went looking for the grooms.

  In a hallway outside the ballroom, Alfonse stood by a closed door, looking every inch like Secret Service.

  “Hey, Alfonse.” I smiled. “How are you?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Good.” I nodded at the door. “Is Levi in there?”

  Alfonse shook his head. “Just Carter.”

  “They doing the whole ‘can’t see each other before the ceremony’ thing?”

  Chuckling, he nodded. “Didn’t think either of them was that superstitious, but there you go.”

  “I don’t think they’re being superstitious.” I grinned. “I think they’re being sentimental. Twenty bucks says Carter knows damn well Levi’s going to tear up as soon as they see each other.”

  A laugh burst out of Alfonse—probably the most boisterous sound I’d ever heard from him. “I’m not taking that bet, because knowing them, you’re right.”

  “Of course I am. So where’s Levi?”

  Alfonse gestured down the hall.

  I followed his direction and found another door at the end of the hall with a tuxedoed guard posted out front. “Is Levi in there?” I asked.

  He nodded but didn’t move.

  “Could you tell him Anna’s here?”

  The guard tapped the door, paused, then opened it and spoke quietly.

  Levi replied, “Yeah, yeah. Send her in. Thanks.”

  The big man stepped aside and gestured for me to go in.

  As I closed the door behind me, Levi was focused on the mirror, fussing with his bow tie.

  “Hey, you,” I said.

  He turned around and flashed a smile before he faced the mirror again. “Hey. Just about . . . ready . . .”

  It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Levi in a tux but now, as he fussed with his bow tie and his cuffs, he reminded me of a kid putting on a tux for the first time and nervously waiting for his date to arrive. Despite his graying hair and the lines his face had accumulated in the decades we’d known each other, he could’ve passed for eighteen just because of the wide-eyed way he met his own gaze in the mirror.

  He scowled at the bow tie and untied it again. “Fucking thing . . .”

  “Do you need a hand with that?”

  He sighed with defeat and faced me. “I know how to do these things, but—”

  “But Levi Pritchard’s motor skills are the first thing to go when he’s nervous.�
�� I took the ends of the bow tie and carefully wound them together. “It’s okay, you know. To turn into a total klutz on your wedding day.”

  He chuckled. “You sure I’m not abusing the privilege?”

  “If I were marrying Carter, I’d probably have fallen on my face a dozen times by now.”

  Normally, he’d have made a snarky comment. Something along the lines of “Of course you would’ve fallen on your face, because you’d have to be drunk off your ass to marry a man.”

  But he just smiled. Really, really smiled. Then he tugged at his sleeve. “Maybe we should’ve done this in shorts or something. It’s fucking hot to be wearing a jacket.”

  “You can always take it off after the ceremony.” I paused. “What ever happened to getting married on Valentine’s Day, anyway?”

  God. Even after all this time, it was still strange to see that silly, ass-over-teakettle-in-love smile on Levi’s face.

  “Oh, you know,” he said. “We were both too busy last winter to plan it, and neither of us wanted to wait another year. So . . .” He shrugged. “Spring will do. Valentine’s Day can just be the anniversary of getting engaged.”

  “In other words, an excuse to spoil your man rotten for your anniversary twice a year?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “So much for hating Valentine’s Day, right?”

  He laughed. “February fourteenth has finally redeemed itself. That’s almost as much of a miracle as me landing a husband like Carter.” His teeth snapped shut and his eyes widened a little, as if he hadn’t thought about it before he said it. Not unusual for him. “A husband like Carter. God. We’re . . .” Eyes closed, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

  I touched his arm. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just . . .” He smiled and met my gaze. “I’m marrying him in—” he checked his watch “—twenty minutes, and I still don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet.”

  “If I know you, it’s going to sink in right about the time you’re at the altar with him.”