“Me, too. More comfortable.”
“Can you turn to the right?” Gabe asked, fussing with the jacket. “Shoulders back, please.”
He did as directed. “Close business partnerships can sometimes get personal. Has that happened with you?”
A deep laugh sounded out. “Let’s just say my advances were ignored . . .”
Carter’s muscles eased. “She wasn’t interested?”
“Not yet. But you never know what will happen in the future. Okay, let’s try the last one. Not many men can pull it off, but I’d like to see it on you.”
He went back into the dressing room and tried not to lose it. What did that comment mean? That he was still hoping to date Avery? Maybe the asshole was trying to seduce her, using the closeness of work as an excuse. He tugged on the final tux and realized his chest was tight with the effort of not punching Gabe and telling him to leave his woman alone.
What the hell was happening to him?
He wasn’t the jealous type. There’d never been anything or anyone he was terrified of losing, except Ally and Lucy. No one had ever gotten that close. He’d only spent a few casual weeks with Avery. How could a connection be formed so quickly? And why did he feel in his very soul that she was meant to be with him?
By the time he reached the pedestal, his head throbbed with confusion and an overabundance of testosterone.
Gabe stood beside him in the mirror, grinning proudly. “Wow, man, you pull this one off well. Looking sharp. I tell you, not too many can wear the gingham gray, but you have the confidence to do it. You’ll make a hell of a statement, my friend. Thoughts?”
“Yeah, it’s good.” Carter barely glanced at his appearance. Immediately, Alex began tugging at the fabric with his magic tape measure. “You dating anyone now?”
“Me? Nope. I’m staying focused. Need to convince one special woman to give me a chance. She’s worth the wait, and I better have the decks clear, so when she’s finally ready, I can dazzle her and make her fall for me. Know what I mean?” He winked like Carter was involved in his conspiracy to seduce Avery.
A roaring rose in his ears.
Alex stepped back with a proud expression. “All done.”
“Great! You’re all set. How do you like your new tux?”
Carter blinked, the red mist clearing, and looked into the mirror. The suit was a pale gray with a bold gingham pattern that made him look like a tablecloth. A wide bright-purple cummerbund swallowed his waist. The pants rode up his ass and made him look like a twelve-year-old boy.
What the hell was Gabe thinking? Unless he wanted Carter to look awful at the wedding because he sensed his interest in Avery?
With a low growl, he stepped off the pedestal. “Fuck no, I’m not wearing this clown suit. I’ll take the second one.” He stormed into the dressing room.
Taking his time, he breathed deep and told himself to calm the hell down. He had no right to beat up Gabe’s pretty face because he was interested in a beautiful, intelligent, funny woman. He’d be crazy not to be in love with her.
But he’d be too late. Because Carter was going to make sure he closed that door and locked it tight.
Avery Sunshine was his.
He came out, cutting a glare at Gabe. “What do you need? My credit card?”
The man stared at him for a long time. Then a delighted grin transformed his face. “Damn, you got it bad.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked rudely, barely keeping his shit together.
Gabe threw his head back and laughed. “Come on, dude. It’s close enough to noon now. I’m buying you a beer.”
“Why would I get a beer with you?”
He slapped Carter’s upper arm in a gesture of camaraderie. “Because I’m gonna tell you everything you want to know about Avery and how to dazzle her. We’re just friends, man. She’s not the one for me.” His handsome features shadowed. “I was talking about someone else. A woman who doesn’t even see me as a man, let alone as a future husband.”
The realization dawned. Gabe wasn’t after Avery at all. He frowned. “Why’d you try to hook me up with that butt-ugly tux?”
Gabe shrugged. “Wanted to see if you were worthy of her. Too many guys aren’t strong enough to have their own opinion. They want to please people who don’t even matter, like buying a crappy suit because some guy tells you it’s cool. Avery wouldn’t put up with that. Make sense?”
Slowly, Carter nodded. “Yeah. That’s fucked-up, but it does make sense. I think you do owe me a beer.”
Gabe laughed and they headed out.
Wednesday night, Avery arrived at the rental beach house and took a deep breath. It had been a long time since she’d had a date, let alone had a man cook dinner for her. She’d reminded herself all day it wasn’t a big deal, but the flip-flop of her tummy told her the opposite. Tonight, she’d spend time with Carter by choice, stripped of her previous excuses and denials he was just an annoying ManOH.
Vulnerability hit. She hated being unsure, but she wasn’t about to run away now. Like Taylor and Bella had told her, they needed some time together to see if there was anything between them other than surface attraction.
The porch held two rocking chairs and a wide blue-checkered awning for shade. He’d picked a rental ten blocks from the beach, so the road was a bit quieter and more residential. After a few more moments of psyching herself up, she knocked.
He opened the door, and his pleased smile made her relax. “I’m glad you made it,” he said, ushering her in.
The small cottage was decorated in the usual beachy theme, with lots of bright-white paint, bleached gray floors, and various knickknacks that livened up the rooms. There were wooden signs that screamed “I’D RATHER BE AT THE BEACH,” wicker baskets full of books and magazines, and comfortable furniture in yellow and blue that gave the place a true vacation feel.
“Cute place,” she said.
Lucy trailed in Carter’s wake, tail wagging frantically, and damned if the dog didn’t jerk back in surprise when she saw who’d entered her master’s home. Avery took in her displeased gaze, the tiny nose in the air sniffing with distaste.
The tail fell still.
Great. She had a possessive canine to deal with along with her own confused emotions. Better to make friends than enemies, right?
She placed her laptop bag down and knelt, putting out her hand in a gesture of goodwill. “Hi, Lucy. How are you, girl?”
The Yorkie took a step forward. Her nose twitched. Her pink bow flopped to the side of her head.
Hope surged.
Then the dog backed up, stuck her ass in the air, and walked away.
Carter frowned. “Lucy, that wasn’t nice. Honestly, I don’t know why she’s so cold to you. Are you sure you like dogs? She’s very sensitive to emotion.”
Avery stood up, practically snapping in defense. “I told you—I love dogs! She thinks I’m competition for your attention.”
He waved a hand in the air and laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Lucy knows I’d never choose anyone over her.”
She choked out a gasp. “Gee, thanks.”
He must’ve realized what he’d said, and shook his head. “Sorry, that came out all wrong. I just meant I made a commitment to her, and I take that seriously. I’m not one to give up on someone I love for anything.”
Heat surged through her at the simplicity of his statement. This was a man who had no problem with love. How had she missed such tenderness and ferocity behind his cool, distant surface? How had she been so very wrong about him?
Having no clue he’d just blown up her world, he faced her with a smile. “Do you want a glass of wine? I can delay dinner if you want to work first.”
“Thanks, white, please. I actually got a lot accomplished today, but I need a good half an hour to clean up some tasks for this weekend.”
“Of course. You can work at the table over there while I finish cooking. I’ll bring your wine over.”
Uneasiness flowed.
Some hot date. Work seemed to cram up every moment of her life. She couldn’t even enjoy a nice dinner during wedding season. Why would he want her here if she couldn’t focus her attention? She bit her lip, suddenly questioning this whole ridiculous idea. “I’m really sorry. I’m sure this isn’t your idea of a fun date—you cook while I work. Are you sure you want me here?”
He regarded her from across the high granite countertop, hands on hips. Those gorgeous dusky blue-gray eyes sparked. “Actually, this will be one of the nicest dates for me. I’m a homebody, and I enjoy cooking. I understand your workload, Avery. I respect the hell out of a business owner who does what she needs to do to be successful, and you never have to apologize for that. Not with me.”
The tension eased and she smiled. “Thanks. Then I’ll bang out the rest of this work so we can enjoy the meal.”
He winked. “Bang away.”
She set up her laptop, pulling up various spreadsheets and checklists for the Bankses’ wedding. In minutes, she was swept away in a tide of endless details and the quest to make the event flawless. She murmured a thanks when Carter brought her wine, enjoying the cool fruity taste of sauvignon blanc on her tongue. She tapped out texts to her upcoming bride, combed through final schedules with vendors and made sure they had what they needed, and confirmed all reservations for the upcoming weekend festivities. The wine was gone when she finally surfaced, satisfied she’d gotten ahead on any issues ready to sidetrack her tomorrow. Slowly, she stretched and turned toward Carter.
He was humming under his breath as he moved around the small kitchen. The rich scents of lemon, basil, and garlic filled the air, along with the pleasant sounds of sizzling oil and bubbling water, but it was Carter Ross himself that held her transfixed attention.
God, he was gorgeous. How had she ever overlooked the earthy sexiness of the man? He wore faded jeans that cupped his taut ass and showcased the lean length of his legs. A white short-sleeve shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of his chiseled chest covered with dark hair. His bare feet moved soundlessly over the floors as he checked and stirred pots and pans, relaxed and at ease with his task.
Her heart fluttered like a schoolgirl’s. She’d never had a man cook for her before. All her dates consisted of formal dinners or the occasional movie, and rarely led back to cocktails at home. She’d never craved that type of intimacy before—happy with the crumbs of romance and the occasional making-out session. He was beginning to stir up all sorts of longings in the short time he’d been here. If he wanted to take her to bed tonight, would she let him?
The thoughts whirled in her head as she packed up her laptop, grabbed her glass, and headed into the kitchen. “All set,” she said lightly, sliding onto one of the cushioned chairs. “Can I help? It smells amazing.”
His smile was warm and gave her all the tingles. Had she really called him robot man? She’d been so wrong. “No, it’s under control. Will be ready in a few minutes. Did you get all your work done?”
She propped up her elbows on the counter. “Yes. Taylor and Bella have other events booked, so it’s just me and Gabe handling this wedding. Besides a large wedding party, demanding MOB, and anal groom, I need to make sure nothing gets overlooked.”
He stirred the asparagus, which looked nice and crisp, just the way she liked it. “MOB is Mother of the Bride, right? Do you use acronyms for all your clients?”
“Pretty much. It’s our shorthand for all those long titles,” she said as he refilled her wineglass. “MOBs can be a nightmare, even more so than the bride. For instance, this one undercut the bride’s choices on everything, and made her doubt her instincts. As the planner, it’s my job to protect the bride and encourage her to keep her vision alive while dealing with stubborn relatives who believe they can do it better.”
“And the anal groom?”
She took a sip. “The groom insists his dog be the ring bearer.”
His lip quirked. She had the urge to run her fingers over his mouth to see if his lips were as soft as she remembered. “Doesn’t sound too weird. Plenty of people have their dogs involved in weddings.”
“Yes, but the ceremony isn’t outside or at the beach. It’s in a church where we needed to get special permission to bring the dog in. I’ve also heard the dog misbehaves, which makes this a challenge. Of course, I’ll try to gauge how bad it will be at the rehearsal dinner. The groom promised to practice with Gus so he’s not nervous.”
“Gus, huh?”
“Yep. Plus, the groom demanded a gluten- and nut-free cake.”
“Well, people have allergies.”
She sighed. “But no one he knows at the wedding has any allergies. He just wants to be prepared. He also insisted no roses be used anywhere in the ceremony or reception because it’s bad luck. I guess his ex-wife used roses everywhere, and he believes it’d be a curse to his new marriage.”
Carter lifted a brow. “I think anal is the wrong word.”
“Eccentric?”
“Crazy.”
She laughed. “Well, at least I’ll have Gabe with me. I forgot to ask you about the tuxedo appointment. Did it go well?”
Something danced in his eyes, but he turned quickly so she couldn’t study him further. “Yep. Found a good tux.”
“And Gabe? Did you both get along?”
“Better than I imagined.”
She sighed with relief. “I’m so glad. Gabe is simply amazing. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
He turned and pinned her with his gaze. Heat flared between them. “He said the same thing about you.” She sensed more to the story, but he smiled and said nothing more.
“Oh, I forgot to show you the favors we settled on. Want to see?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
She shot him a suspicious look. “You’re not going to suggest an alternative and then challenge me to another bet, are you?”
He held his hands up. “Promise. No judgment or helpful comments.”
She muttered an assent and grabbed the wrapped item from her bag. Carefully removing the fabric from the plastic-wrap protector, she withdrew the tea towel.
Carter frowned. “A shirt?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Unfold it.”
He smoothed out the fabric and stared at it. Avery hoped he saw what she did. The tea towel was silver gray, soft to the touch, and had an Elizabeth Barrett Browning quote embroidered in calligraphy:
I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Underneath were Ally’s and Jason’s names with the wedding date.
He stared at it for a while.
“You don’t like it?” She tried not to show disappointment. “Before you begin going off in a new direction, your sister approved them, and they’re already paid for. Nonrefundable.”
He looked up and smiled. “It’s beautiful.”
Relief cut through her. “Thank God. Ally really wanted to use the quote on something that wouldn’t be thrown away, and everyone loves a tea towel. I had no idea your parents were such romantics,” she teased. “Did they both love poetry? I never asked Ally about the true meaning behind the poem.”
His jaw tightened. “My parents were like lovesick schoolkids. Crazy about each other. They’d met in college in an English class, so their love for words bonded them. Dad would read poetry to her late at night. That was Mom’s favorite quote. When Dad got in trouble, he’d find ways to use it as a reminder that he loved her.”
The thought of such devotion shook her to the core. “You were lucky to have them,” she said quietly, sensing his tension. “They showed you and Ally what’s possible.”
He turned, jerking the pan from the stove and turning off the heat. His shoulders tensed into a straight line. “I learned many things from my parents’ relationship,” he said with a touch of bitterness. “But I’m glad the quote makes Ally happy. She should have something to remember them by
during the wedding.”
She frowned, feeling as if she’d stepped over a personal boundary he let no one cross. Was it the pain of losing them that caused the edge in his voice? Or something she didn’t know? Something deeper?
When he faced her again, the smile was back, and his face had softened. “Dinner’s ready.”
She helped him serve, and they began to eat. She practically moaned with pleasure at each perfect bite. The roasted chicken was tender and juicy. The asparagus, slightly burned and garlicky. The baked potato was filled with butter and chives, with firm skin and a soft center. He’d even made dinner rolls with shiny, buttery tops that leaked steam when broken open.
“This is amazing,” she finally managed to say between bites. “You’re not a cook. You’re a chef.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
She laughed and watched him share his food with Lucy with a separate fork. Her little face tipped up, big brown eyes filled with pleading he seemed unable to resist. She ate like an aristocrat, sliding the food carefully from the fork and chewing slowly, sighing in happiness and waiting for the next morsel. “You spoil her.”
“I pamper her,” he corrected. He turned and tilted his head, studying Avery’s face with his searing gaze. “I enjoy pampering my women.”
His husky voice made goose bumps pepper her skin. Her belly tumbled, thinking of all the dark meanings in his words and how badly she wanted them. “Are there many?”
“Many what?”
“Women,” she said lightly. “Women in your past who you’ve pampered.”
His grin told her the question amused him. “Not many. Like you, I’m very involved with my work. My main focus has always been raising and providing stability for Ally. My relationships have been short and far between.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
He paused, placing his fork down on the plate with intention. The clink vibrated in the air. Avery didn’t know why his response was so important. His face grew shadowed. She sucked in her breath at the naked pain she spotted, before the barrier quickly slammed down and his gaze cleared. “No. I don’t believe in love.”
Shock filled her. She blinked, staring into his face. “How can you not believe in love? You adore your sister. Lucy. Certainly there are others you love.”
Love on Beach Avenue Page 18