Beach Blanket Santa (Holiday Brides Series)

by Baird, Ginny

  “What do you mean?”

  “You love the beach.”

  “Like Hawaii?”

  “That’s a little hard to arrange last minute.”

  “I wasn’t asking you to!”

  Elaine’s face became alive with excitement. “Bring me my purse,” she said, pointing across the room.

  Sarah crossed to the small love seat that held it and returned with it to Elaine, perplexed.

  Elaine opened its clasp and extracted her key ring.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah asked.

  “Giving you my beach house,” Elaine said with a grin. “For the week.”

  Sarah loved the beach and adored Elaine’s cozy oceanfront cottage, but she couldn’t possibly accept it so last minute. She had family to see in Bethesda and other arrangements to take care of besides. “Oh, Elaine, that’s lovely, but—”

  Elaine removed one key from her ring, the one with the dangling fake sand dollar hanging on a chain. “You simply can’t refuse a gift from the bride. Especially on her wedding day.”

  Sarah thought of long walks on the beach…warm nights of reading by the fire… Elaine’s cottage was the perfect getaway. And after the hubbub involved in helping arrange this massive wedding, a peaceful retreat sounded good. Better than good, almost like heaven.

  “You don’t have to stay there for Christmas, silly. Just use it as long as you’d like. It’s my week, anyway. Otherwise it will go to waste.”

  Four hours later, Sarah saw the bridal bouquet hurtling in her direction like a rocket. Only this rocket had tiny jingling bells attached to its beautiful bright red ribbon. It had actually been Sarah’s idea to add this extra holiday touch to the already festive candlelit wedding. It was one week before Christmas, and the entire church had been bedecked in lush greenery, boughs of holly draped from the arm of every pew. Sarah met Elaine’s eyes in a panic as the flowers careened toward her. This was really happening. Elaine hadn’t even bothered with the pretense of tossing the thing over her shoulder. She’d just grinned and lobbed it straight at Sarah.

  Sarah swallowed hard as the musical menace closed in. Elaine’s earlier words rang in her ears. “You can’t drop it. That would be bad luck”. Sarah caught a glimpse of Jennifer standing in the wings and a sea of waving female arms outstretched. It was nearer now, just overhead and arching toward her. No! It was nose-diving to the floor! She had a split second to react and avert catastrophe. Sarah leapt skyward, and the weight of the flowers settled in her hands. There was a collective sigh from the guests, and then, after a split second of silence, a loud round of applause.

  Sarah’s cheeks burned. How she hated being the center of attention, particularly at moments like this. It was common knowledge she wasn’t seeing anyone, and folks would wonder why she’d stolen the stage from Jennifer.

  Louis surprised her with his approach and jovially patted her arm. “Nice catch,” he said under his breath. Across the room, Jennifer narrowed her gaze and walked away. Sarah couldn’t have felt any more awkward.

  Then Elaine drew near with a stealthy thumbs-up. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  Sarah lifted white roses to her nose, inhaling their sweet scent. “Why did you make me do that?” she asked in a whisper, disguised by the fanning bouquet.

  “Because, hon. I want you to be as happy as I am. And, after a while”—she nudged the bouquet still clasped in Sarah’s hands—“the right guy will come along. You’ll see.”

  “Sure,” Sarah said, not believing it. She was thirty-one-years old and hadn’t met anyone with marriage potential yet. Not that it bothered her most days. She kept plenty busy with her work as an interior designer and truly loved what she did. It was hard to look for a mate in her field, which wasn’t populated with many eligible men. And because Sarah wasn’t into the bar or singles scene, she wasn’t expressly searching anyhow. Who knew if the right guy for her was even out there? Even if he was, history had taught her that he’d be awfully hard to find.

  “There’s someone for everyone,” Elaine said, smiling sweetly. “And somewhere out there is the perfect guy for you. You’ve just got to walk through the right door.”

  Chapter Two

  Sarah let herself into Elaine’s beach house and called out loudly, “Hello? Hello? Is somebody in here?” There was nothing but silence in return. Not that this surprised her. Renters at the cottage next door perpetually parked in Elaine and Robert’s drive. She had to admit the landscape was confusing. You had to nearly be a native here to discern the obscure gravel road overgrown with sea ferns that included the neighboring cottage’s drive. No matter. She’d stop by later and politely ask the renters to move their car. At the moment, neither was blocking the other in, so there was no real emergency.

  Sarah set her suitcases in the kitchen and looked around the bright open space. Sporadic sunlight poured through the sliding glass doors adjoining a broad inviting deck beyond the living area. One side of the room held a rugged pine dining table with a matching bench and chairs. The other had a cozy stone fireplace surrounded by a large, comfy sofa, teak coffee table, and two reading chairs. A fire had been laid in the hearth with extra wood and kindling sticks stacked in a holder nearby. Although, it was hard to imagine building a fire on a day like today. The weather was unseasonably warm, in the sixties with partly cloudy skies and a mixture of light and dark clouds dotting the horizon. She’d heard a hard rain was coming and even that the weather might get dicey for a couple of days. But she’d brought enough supplies to last her, and for now, the beach appeared inviting enough. Sarah smiled as the ocean beyond the plate-glass windows heaved and sighed, white-tipped waves crashing onto an empty stretch of sand. As soon as she brought in her groceries, she’d kick off her shoes and go for a walk.

  Down below the house and tucked in a corner behind the storage room, Matt finished his outdoor shower. Since the weather was predicated to change later with a cold front moving in, he’d decided to take advantage of bathing outside while he could. It might prove a tad chilly for some folks, who weren’t as toughened to the elements as he was. But Matt, who’d engaged in rugged camping trips since he was a teen near Chicago, was well accustomed to some bite in the air. Compared to the Midwest in December, being in southern North Carolina felt almost like summertime.

  There was something very freeing about being au natural outdoors, just a rustic wooden barrier between him and the path over the dunes. He’d had quite a catch today. Ten bluefish and nearly a dozen mackerel. Matt scrubbed his hands with extra care using the fisherman’s soap he’d brought along to expunge any scent from the cleaning he’d done while still on the beach. He found it easier to take care of the messy work as soon as the need arose and had a simple fisherman’s knife that had served him well for years. Matt planned to eat some of his haul while he was here, but most of it he planned to freeze and take back home. There were lots of recipes he could concoct, including a mighty delicious homemade gumbo.

  Matt shut off the water, thinking he’d heard a car door slam shut. But that didn’t make any sense. Not unless the cottage next door was rented for Christmas, which would be unusual since the house didn’t even have a fireplace. And a fireplace at the beach in winter was something renters insisted on, no matter the weather. Matt squinted up at the sun lowering itself behind the dunes and grabbed his towel off a nearby hook. He’d head upstairs, freezer-bag the fish, and pop himself a brewski. Yessirree, he thought, winding the towel around his waist and cinching it. He was feeling better already. He hadn’t thought about women all day.

  Matt hoisted his heavy cooler in one hand while gripping his fishing tackle in the other. He’d just climbed the third wooden step to the side door when a screen door creaked open. Matt stopped in his tracks, thinking he’d heard footsteps. The next thing he knew, some pretty brunette was bounding down the stairs. She stared at him and fell back in fright.

  “Oh!” she cried, dropping the flip-flops in her hand. One somersaulted down the steps, lan
ding on Matt’s bare foot. He quickly set down his stuff to grip the towel that was sliding south.

  “Uh, hello,” he said, securing the towel around him.

  She stared at his waist, then quickly met his gaze. Matt caught his breath. He’d know those eyes anywhere. “Sarah?”

  Her cheeks colored brightly as she swallowed hard. “Matt?” she asked with a squeak. “What are you doing here?”

  He picked up her flip-flops and handed them to her, taking care with his towel the whole time. She wore snug jeans rolled up at the ankles and a fitted long-sleeve T-shirt. She was every bit as pretty as she’d been three years ago. Somehow, she looked even better. “Robert gave me the house for the week.”

  “Robert? But this is Elaine’s week, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but she’s supposed to be on her honeymoon.”

  “She is.”

  “Then how…?”

  “Elaine gave me the house for the week too. She said nobody would be using it.”

  Matt had worked hard to push memories of Sarah out his mind, but they all came flooding back now. She’d been so much fun at Elaine and Robert’s wedding. He thought they’d really hit it off. Maybe even could start something. But then when the next morning came, she’d pushed him away. Naturally, he got over it. Matt knew better than to knock on doors where he wasn’t wanted. And he’d met Katya shortly afterward besides. Matt felt a pang in his chest when the raw truth hit. Katya wasn’t the first woman to let him down. It had really started with Sarah. “Then we’re in a predicament, aren’t we?”

  “Well, yes. No,” she said, backing up a step. “I should be the one to go. After all, you got here first.”

  “I don’t see how that’s fair. This really is Elaine’s week, not Robert’s.”

  He stared at her, and she stared back, her head and heart still grappling with the situation. Of all people to run into! Matt Salvatore with those unnerving blue eyes and that to-die-for statue-of-David body. It was bad enough that he had it; far worse that it was on such vivid display. The winds kicked up with a whistle, riffling his towel.

  “If you don’t mind,” he said, lifting an eyebrow, “I think we should continue this conversation inside. It’s getting a bit breezy out here.”

  “Of course,” she said, quickly turning away and heading upstairs. She held the screen door open so he could make his way through with his collected gear. It was all she could do to avert her eyes from his solidly muscled shoulders and stop herself from thinking about what might have been. He hadn’t changed at all. In some ways, he’d seemed to age in a way that made him appear even more handsome. And it was hard to top what he’d been before, which was absolutely devastating.

  She closed the door behind them, pressing it shut against the building winds. “Feels like that cold front’s coming.”

  Matt set down his gear by the center island in the kitchen. “Precisely why I should get dressed.”

  She blinked and bit her tongue to keep herself from saying something idiotic. Like, no, please, stay half naked for me. The sad truth was, this was the most action she’d had in months. In fact, it was the most action she’d had since Matt.

  He cocked his chin sideways and grinned. “I already put my things in the conch room, but we can work all that out later after we talk.”

  “Good plan.”

  He excused himself, and Sarah face-palmed, sinking onto a bar stool at the center island. Matt Salvatore. Unbelievable. She never thought she’d see him again. Certainly not as much of him as that.

  Matt shut the door behind him and slowly shook his head. Sarah Anderson, all after this time. She was the one person he never thought he’d see again. She’d certainly given him the boot sternly enough, and once things got rocky between Elaine and Robert, there wasn’t really any occasion to see her. The newlywed couple stopped having folks over shortly after their wedding. Come to think of it, they hadn’t entertained much at all. It seemed they were too busy biting each other’s heads off to consider serving up dinner to outsiders. It wasn’t that Elaine and Robert didn’t like each other. In fact, they’d been madly in love. The trouble was both were headstrong individuals, each used to getting his or her own way. This made for some heavy fireworks when even a discussion of which placemats to set on the table sparked an altercation.

  Matt extracted his clothes from the dresser, knowing Elaine and Robert’s parting had been for the best. The moment they’d split up, they’d seemed like old friends again, not that they wanted to spend much time around each other. Too many unhappy memories of what their tainted married life had been like. Still, neither harbored ill will toward the other, and each was happy to let the other go on with his or her life. The only real thing that bound them together was this beach house at the Outer Banks.

  Matt stepped into his jeans, considering the situation. He supposed he should offer to go. That was the gentlemanly thing to do. After all, this was supposed to be Elaine’s week here, not Robert’s. And what a shame that was too. The fishing today had been mighty fine. Matt even thought he felt that first hint of beard stubble poking through. He’d nearly forgotten how peaceful this place could be, gulls calling and darting above white-capped waves. Matt stared out the window at the tumultuous ocean suddenly shrouded in dark clouds. Seeing Sarah again had turned him inside out in a way he couldn’t have expected. He’d nearly forgotten about her completely until he’d looked in those big brown eyes. And, when he had, every inch of him remembered holding her close as they’d swayed to that sultry ballad by a small jazz band. He could even recall the scent of her, fresh and womanly, like daisies after the rain. And those skies had opened up and poured on him all right, sending him packing during the cloudburst. He tugged on his sweatshirt, thinking that this time he’d be more prepared. Sarah wouldn’t need to tell him to leave. He was volunteering.

  Sarah peered into her cooler, wondering if she should reload it with the cold stuff she’d already stowed in the refrigerator. But her cold packs had melted, so she’d need to stop by the store on the mainland and secure some ice on her way home. It would be rude for her to deplete this place of the one premade bucketful it had. Listen to her! Thinking of being rude to the one man she’d met on the planet who’d proved himself to have no manners. The morning after the wedding, he’d made a quick exit without caring to explain what went wrong. Only one picture bloomed crystal clear in her mind, that of the irresistible best man leaning forward to lift her bridesmaid’s dress over her shoulders. How could he when she wasn’t even in her right mind? Well, maybe he hadn’t been in his either. They’d both did have quite a bit of champagne.

  The door cracked open to the right-hand master bedroom. There were two large ones in this house, one on either side of the central living area, and each was decorated in its own ocean theme. One sported sand dollars, while the other, the one in which Matt was staying, was adorned in conch shells. He emerged, and Sarah caught her breath on the impossible. He looked just as good fully dressed as he had standing near naked in a towel. She felt her face redden, fearing he could read those thoughts.

  As Matt approached, she noticed a backpack casually slung over his shoulder.

  There was a small tug at her heart, something akin to pain. Maybe the thought of him walking out conjured up some mysterious sense of déjà vu. But that was silly. Shouldn’t she be grateful at his efforts to make things easy?

  He set down the backpack and started gathering his fishing gear. “I think it would be simpler if I just went.”

  “I thought we were going to discuss it?”

  He met her gaze with a placating smile. “I’m not sure what’s left to discuss. This place was apparently double-booked. Since this wasn’t Robert’s week to begin with, I’m the one who should go.”

  Thunder boomed outside and lightning crackled, sending splinters of light throughout the kitchen. Matt packed his cooler. “Sounds like that storm’s moving in even sooner than expected.”

  Sarah peered through the kitchen windo
w at dark clouds rolling over the horizon. In the past few minutes alone, the weather had changed dramatically, though that often happened out here on this little-known barrier island that lay in close proximity to a broad expanse of others. The house sat on a narrow stretch of sand between the ocean and the sound and was accessible only by four-wheel-drive vehicles carried over on a ferry. No roads came out this far, and the rough-hewn trails worn flat by tire tracks were often washed over during heavy rains. A double booking was one thing, but she couldn’t have Matt braving the precarious trek back to the boat during a storm. “Maybe it’s not safe to drive.” As if to accentuate that point, the wind picked up, rattling the screen door.

  He strode to the sink beside her and peeked out the window as well. “It’s even darker over the sound.” Just then the sky opened up, releasing a broad curtain of rain.

  “Looks like you came back from fishing just in time,” Sarah said.

  “Seems like aborting your walk was a good idea.”

  She stared into mesmerizing blue eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. Did this mean he would stay? At least for a little while?

  “I do think I should wait to get on the road. At least until this blows over.”

  Thunder boomed and rain drove down harder, smacking against the tin roof. “Conditions could be worse later.”

  “Then again, they could improve.”

  She didn’t know how driving in the dark would make things any better. That wasn’t really safe to do around here, even on a clear night. Surely Matt knew that too. “I don’t see how,” she said, her voice catching in her throat.

  He smiled, giving that sexy tilt to his lips.

  She reached out a hand to steady herself against the counter.

  “Since you’re stuck with me awhile, we might as well eat something.” He cocked his chin in the direction of her grocery sacks. “Bring any wine in those bags?”