“Sick days don’t count. How can people get married every weekend all through the year? I figured you’d have plenty of downtime in the winter.”
“We do in terms of actual events, but I use the time for planning the spring and summer weddings. There’s really no downtime to discuss details, and planning is always a good year ahead. And of course, there’s the occasional surprise wedding thrown in that I take on, like Ally’s.”
He’d figured she had all winter off to relax and recharge before taking on wedding season. It seemed he was wrong. His interest peaked. “What about holidays?”
She shot him a look. “Are you kidding? We always have multiple Christmas weddings to deal with, plus New Year’s Eve. Then we get into Valentine’s Day, and I have the month of March to scramble for spring, which starts in April.”
“Have you thought about hiring more staff?”
“Of course, but it’s harder than you think to get a qualified worker who wants to live in Cape May year-round. We get students and interns and part-timers, but my sisters and I are the only ones capable of truly handling the big clients. Gabe has been wonderful, though. He’ll be promoted soon.”
“Gabe?” Annoyance stirred. “Who’s he?”
“My assistant, but he’s ready to get his own clients. He’s charming, patient, and women adore him.”
Was that her idea of a perfect guy? Sounded boring and trite to him. Most men like that were hiding some nasty stuff underneath such a shiny exterior. “I see. Is he married?”
She laughed and waved her hand in the air. “Gabe? God, no. He’s like Jake Gyllenhaal—gorgeous but a longtime bachelor. I doubt there’s a woman out there who can tame him. He hates commitment.”
Carter picked through this new knowledge and found himself a bit pissed off at this perfect assistant of hers. Maybe they were sleeping together. Which was fine. It wasn’t as if he was looking for anything with Avery.
“How long have you been working together?”
“A few years. He’s been an integral part of the team, so it’s nice to see him succeed. We spend so much time together; it will be strange not being with him on a daily basis, though.”
The thought of her with some hot playboy charmer assisting her did something strange to his insides. They got all twisted and burned like acid. Maybe he needed some damn TUMS. “Sounds like you’re real close.”
She shot him a look, and he realized he’d emphasized his last word. “Yes. We are. Like I am with all my employees.”
Her voice told him he was walking on the edge, and though he’d like to know for sure if they were sleeping together, there was no way he was going to ask. That meant no more talking about Gabe and his Gyllenhaal-like charm. He shifted back to his original topic. “Seems a shame you live in a beach town but rarely use it. What about your niece? Do you take time off to be with her?”
Her face softened. He liked the transition and wondered what it’d be like to stare into those eyes when they were all misty and needy. Imagined her chin tilted up as she waited for a kiss, lips parted and welcoming. She’d make a man feel like a fucking superhero. “Zoe is my only distraction from work,” she said. “Bella has a part-time nanny to help, but all of us put Zoe as a priority. So yes, if she wants to go to the beach, or the ice-cream store, or the library, I carve out the time.”
“What about Zoe’s father?”
A ragged sigh filled the air. “He died when Zoe was only six months old. Car crash. He was coming home from a business trip and got hit by a drunk driver.”
He muttered a curse. “I’m so sorry, Avery. That must’ve been a bad time for your family.”
“It was. I didn’t know if Bella would get through it. Took her months to just get out of bed. Matt was her childhood sweetheart—they grew up together and got married right out of college.” She shook her head as if the painful memories clung. “But she’s strong, and eventually, she came back to all of us. We’re lucky to have one another.”
“Did that factor into your decision to stay here and not pursue the Broken Cupid?”
She nodded. “Once I got home, I realized how much I enjoyed being back. Then Zoe was born, and I couldn’t imagine leaving her. By the time we lost Matt, I knew my life was here, with my sisters.”
“Family is everything,” he said simply.
She glanced over, and a charge of energy buzzed between them. This time, it was more than just physical—it was an understanding that they’d both experienced losses and used family bonds to battle through. He respected her choice. Many would have remained selfish and pursued their own interests, but he’d learned from his own tragedy that there was more to life than thinking of oneself. Ally had been worth the price of growing up fast, and he regretted nothing.
But he’d never pay such a price again. The cost of loving someone that much, and that intensely, was a choice he’d long ago decided not to pursue.
Love wasn’t always kind. Sometimes it tore you apart and broke every fragment of the heart. Bella had experienced it firsthand. So had his father, who’d chosen to be weak instead of strong when his wife died.
Carter would never allow himself to experience that type of pain again.
Ever.
“You okay?”
Her question startled him. He gripped the steering wheel and refocused. “Yeah, sorry. Daydreaming.”
She smiled. “About getting me to the beach? Dream on, because you’re going to lose.”
“Ah, so you are taking on the bet?”
She shrugged. “Why not? I know I’m going to win. What do I get when you lose?”
“What do you want?”
She tilted her head, considering. The heavy weight of her curls slid down over her shoulder, which was partially bared by the flimsy top. Her smooth, golden skin looked soft and touchable. “You get a full beach day.”
He frowned. “Thought that was my prize.”
Her smile was slow and triumphant. “With Zoe. You spend the whole day with her and take her to the beach.”
“Doesn’t seem so bad. I like kids.”
She looked startled. “You do?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? Besides, I promised I’d hang with her at the beach. Works for me.” He almost laughed at her dejected expression. “Sorry to disappoint you. I can pretend it’s a horrible punishment.”
“I’m not disappointed, I’m surprised. Most men consider spending hours with a five-year-old torturous. I figured you didn’t mean it when you promised her.”
He pulled into the restaurant lot, parked, and cut the engine. Turning to face her, he made sure her gaze locked on his. “I never break a promise, Avery,” he said, the words as resolute as the vow he’d made years ago. “To anyone.”
Those hazel eyes widened, and he heard the small gulp of air as she sucked in her breath. For endless seconds, they stared at one another. Carter fought the impulse to lean over and kiss her. He imagined she’d taste like the spiced wedding cake he’d sampled—a bit of sweet, a bit of savory, and a whole lot of sass. The silence stretched. His muscles tightened. He moved an inch. One more.
Then pulled back. Shook his head. No way was he going to muck up his sister’s wedding by getting involved with the planner, who happened to be her best friend.
It was best to remember that.
“Let’s go eat,” he said.
He turned and got out of the car.
Chapter Ten
What the hell had just happened?
Avery sipped her wine and tried to relax. The restaurant was packed, but they’d scored a table on the porch, overlooking the sprawl of sandy beach and ocean. Golden lights glowed in the darkness, battling against the bright shine of endless stars stretched out in the sky. The entire aura reeked of romance and first dates, and here she was with a bag full of wedding work and a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach from their conversation in the car.
For just a moment, she’d experienced intense attraction. When Carter spoke his vow about keeping
a promise, the implacable truth and determination shone from his carved features, sizzled from those misty blue-gray eyes, left free from his usual glasses. Within his words laced a passion that seemed hidden under the surface, and for a few precious seconds, she’d connected with that part of him.
And she’d wanted him to kiss her.
Holy crap.
She took a big gulp of wine and fumbled with the bag. Better to focus on work. Her fingers closed on a thick folder, but his deep voice made her freeze. “Later. Why don’t we order and enjoy our wine first?”
Reluctantly, she tucked the bag away and tried to avoid the low flicker of candlelight, soft violin music piping in from the speakers, and the sensual wash of breeze caressing her body. She cleared her throat. “I’m still shocked you got us a table tonight.”
“Your name is important around here.”
She rotated her wineglass in her hand. “Wait—what? You used my name for the reservation?”
His grin was filled with male satisfaction. “Of course. I told them we were dining tonight so I can try out their menu for a possible rehearsal dinner. They squeezed us right in.”
Oh, he’d played her well with this one. Implied he had magically snagged a reservation on his charm when he’d just lied and used her name. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I try. After all, this was one of the restaurants I mentioned in my texts you never replied to.” He flipped open the menu. “Any suggestions?”
She rolled her eyes at the unsubtle dig. “No. But I heard the fish-eye soup is good.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Sounds awful.”
“Ask the waiter. It’s highly recommended here.”
They took a few minutes to peruse their choices. The waiter glided over, smartly dressed in black, introduced himself as Nate, and began to dive into the specials. His voice was low and cultured, and the list went on for a while. When he finished, Carter spoke up. “I heard your fish-eye soup was excellent. Can you tell me about it?”
The waiter looked confused. “Fish-eye? I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have that on the menu.”
“Is it sold out?”
Avery stifled a giggle.
“No.” The waiter shook his head. “To be honest, we’ve never served that type of soup. Personally, it sounds a bit controversial.”
With a tiny frown, Carter considered the waiter’s words, then shot her a look.
Uh-oh.
The realization hit him, and his gaze narrowed. “Never mind. It seems I was wrong about the soup. I’ll begin with the lobster salad, please.”
She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh out loud. The intimate scene from the car drifted away, and things were back the way they should be between them.
“Did you say you had a crab appetizer?” she asked when the waiter turned his attention to her.
“Yes, ma’am. The chef made them special tonight. Crabby balls.”
She coughed. “Crabby . . . balls?”
Nate nodded. “They’re quite delicious. Crisp on the outside, creamy on the inside. Very popular. Our chef is known for his balls.”
Carter glanced at her in disbelief. A giggle rose up. Was she trapped in a Saturday Night Live skit? “Good to know,” she managed. “I think I’ll skip the balls.”
“But, darling, you adore balls! You really should order them,” Carter announced. “Much better than fish eyes, you always say.”
Shocked, she stared at him. His eyes danced with mischief.
The waiter had no clue what was going on, and had probably missed watching a lot of comedy in his years, because he babbled on. “You’ll love them. The balls are fried, but not greasy at all. Firm to the touch. I guarantee they taste amazing.”
The laughter ripped from her chest and exploded from her mouth before she could stop it. Eyes filled with tears, she waved her hand in the air and gasped out the words, “Fine, yes, bring the crabby balls. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He shot them a puzzled look, but his training held. He didn’t comment on her hysterics or the way Carter had his hand over his mouth like he, too, was about to explode. He gathered their menus and pivoted on his shiny heel.
They collapsed into laughter. “He didn’t get it,” Carter said. “Poor bastard.”
“It was better that way.” She took a deep breath, finally calming down. “God, I forgot how fun it is to be silly. I didn’t even know you had it in you, robot man.”
He smiled back. “I’ve got a few surprises, including a sense of humor.”
“I guess I always remember you being so serious all the time.”
He tapped his finger absently against the white tablecloth. “I had to be. I was worried if I wasn’t strict with Ally, she’d get lost.”
“The first time we met, I recognized she knew exactly who she was. She had an inner strength I was drawn to immediately. Reminded me of my sisters,” she said with a grin. “For someone who lost both parents young, it tells me your hard work paid off. Ally simply adores you. Hell, she promised me I’d be her MOH, and look who she replaced me with.”
His mouth twitched in amusement. She had a sudden impulse to drag her fingers over those plump lips to see if they were as soft as they looked. She enjoyed making him laugh. Maybe because it was a rare gift she didn’t see often, so she cherished it when it happened.
“Appreciate that. I still remember when I had to accompany her at a father-daughter dance. She didn’t want to stay home because all her friends were going, so we put on our fancy clothes and showed up at the school gym. There were all these old guys hanging around the punch bowl. I swear, it looked like a scene from The Godfather, and they used a dance to make arrangements on hits.” He took a sip of pinot noir and shook his head. “So I’m there with my poor sister, and these guys are staring at me like they’re ready to throw the punk kid out of the gym. Ally grabs my hand and marches up to them.”
“Oh my God. What did she say?”
“She told them I was her brother and her guardian, and to be nice to me. Said I didn’t know anyone and asked if they’d have a glass of punch with me while she looked for her friends. I almost fucking died. But you know what? Those guys patted my shoulder, brought me into their group, and handed me some punch. They made me feel accepted, and by the end of the night, I’d made friends. And I needed friends in Ally’s school. It was hard taking care of her when I wasn’t an official parent, especially at my age. It was almost as if everyone else felt they knew what was best for her.”
“How old were you when you were named her official guardian?”
“Nineteen. She was in fifth grade.” A flicker of pain crossed his features, but was quickly hidden. “Too damn young.”
Avery thought of being nineteen, fresh out of high school, and becoming a parent. Even worse, he’d had his own grief to deal with, and no parental support. “So were you,” she said softly.
“I was old enough.”
“I know your mom died of cancer. Ally told me your father died of a heart attack. She said the grief of losing your mom affected his health.”
His muscles stiffened. A shadow passed over him, dark and ravaged and angry. She sucked in her breath at the glimpse of raw emotion and wondered what had caused it. Something bigger than his parents’ death? A secret he refused to share? Curiosity stirred, and she almost pushed, but the waiter came back and set a plate down in the center of the table.
“Crabby balls,” he practically sang in a falsetto. “Enjoy!”
Their gazes met and locked.
She burst into laughter again, and he shook his head, reaching over to stab a ball with his fork. They ate and fell into casual chitchat, catching up and sharing stories about Ally and their highlights of the good old days. By the time dinner was complete and she was sipping a cappuccino, she’d almost completely forgotten about planning Ally’s bachelorette party.
“Time for work,” she announced, pulling out her files. “This afternoon, I spoke with Ally and the bridesmaids to get a
feel for what type of trip they wanted. They requested relaxation, beach, and pampering. No big-city trips, and no one wants to deal with additional airfare, so it needs to be drivable.”
“Wait, I told you they’d given me carte blanche on planning this trip.”
She refused to look guilty for doing her job. “Yes, I know, but I thought it would be a good idea to ask what type of getaway they were specifically looking for to make the job easier. And then Ally suggested I could help you since I know more about the area and options.”
He shook his head. Irritation flickered over his features along with a strange type of amusement. “I should have known you’d try to hijack the bachelorette.”
“Just listen, I did a bunch of research. I looked at dates, cross-referenced them with possible outings with the criteria they requested, and came up with this list right here.”
She whipped out the spreadsheet that detailed her data. The final page showed the top three destinations that had evolved from her research. “As you can see here,” she said, pointing to the picture, “Dewey Beach in Delaware is a popular bachelorette destination if she doesn’t want to stay in Cape May. They have a fun place called Bottle & Cork that has eighties cover bands if they want to venture out.”
“What else?” he asked, flipping through the various printouts and glossy brochures.
“The Hamptons. It’s at the tip of Long Island, extremely popular in the summertime. Plenty of spas, shopping, and pampering. I have a contact there who can get them all a summerhouse for the long weekend. It’s an impressive mansion with a pool, hot tub, and it’s secluded. Close to the beach.”
She waited for his reaction. He just nodded, a slight frown creasing his brow. Impatience fluttered through her. Did anything impress him? For once, couldn’t he be enthusiastic and excited about her choices? “The third option is right here. Cape May. I can book spa appointments and get some fabulous rooms at Congress Hall. Think gourmet dinners, vineyard tours, and complete pampering, plus no travel. I just need to confirm she doesn’t want to go someplace new with the girls.”
He continued perusing the paperwork, as if waiting to be dazzled. “That’s it?”
Love on Beach Avenue Page 12