Mr. July: An Enemies to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Bachelors at the Beach Book 1)

by Jax Hart

  “It was just a few stolen kisses on a hot summer night a lifetime ago.”

  “That’s it?”

  “… in the sand…. Our clothes stayed on.”

  I put my wineglass down and picked up the fob keys to my Tesla from the basket made of sea grass Char had placed on the coffee table. “He’s dead.” I growled. “We’re going to elf night just so I can kick his ass. Ten years or twenty he broke bro code.”

  Char rolled her eyes. “Calm down.”

  Instead, my nostrils flared. “Hunter is a ho.”

  “A hot one, though.”

  “I can’t handle it Char. You’re my twin. The ying to my yang. I won’t see you be played.”

  “Oh relax. I wasn’t played. He was. I kissed Matt after.”

  “How did I miss all this?”

  “Easily. You were off making summer conquests of your own. Are we seriously going out? Because I’m in the mood for a little festivity.”

  I checked the Tudor Tourneau watch on my wrist that I had treated myself to when I made partner. It set me back $4k. I wear it as a reminder that hard work has rewards. “It’s a long drive to the dive bar outside the city.”

  “So? We’ll crash at your apartment then come back for Christmas Day.”

  I texted Hunter back.

  Me: We’ll be there, bitch.

  Hunter: We?

  Me: Me and my twin. I have a face to wreck… yours.

  Hunter: Bring it, bro. You’ve lost all your edge. I’ll be under the mistletoe waiting to see Char.

  Me: Dead, bro. Dead.

  Char and I locked up. She spent the entire drive back to the city fixing her hair and makeup. I almost swerved off the road when she pulled out a curling iron and plugged it in.

  “You’re going to burn all this smooth as butter leather!” With my left hand on the wheel, I made a wild grab for her beauty tool, almost singing my palm in the process. “Shit, that’s hot!”

  “Because it’s a damn curling iron, you fool. Calm down.”

  I bit my tongue to stop myself from cursing at her. I loved my sister but spending hours in her company reminded me why I stayed single.

  “Take the next exit.”

  “Why?”

  “To get my naughty elf outfit. Why else?”

  “This better not take long,” I grumbled. I did what she asked and waited in the car while she shopped in some fancy women’s clothing boutique that I never knew existed.

  “All set?” I had asked when she came back out thirty minutes later.

  “You betcha,” she grinned. She wore her warm winter coat, so I had no idea the shitshow I was in for when she’d take it off at Hank’s Bar and Grill fifty minutes later.

  When I pulled into the lot behind Hank’s I got a bad feeling. The place was jammed. I knew the inside of the wooden shack like bar was going to feel like a muggy summer night on the bayou. I peeled my sweater off and went inside wearing a tight, white undershirt and my work jeans. Char decided to check her coat. I texted Hunter letting him know we had arrived as I found a spot by the bar. When I looked up, my eyes widened larger than a kid’s on Christmas morning.

  Char was wearing a red velvet teddy dress thing with faux fur white trim paired with red stilettos.

  I closed my eyes as she approached.

  “I need a mind eraser because I wish I never saw that shit. Damn it, Char. What the hell are you wearing? No brother should ever have to witness his sister in something like that.”

  “It’s just a slip dress. Relax. The transitional gray paint ruined my new Jimmy Choo’s. Tonight’s pot will be enough for two new pairs.”

  “How about I buy you ten if you put your coat back on?”

  Char turned as Hunter put an arm around her waist. A mind eraser showed up next to my hand. I downed it in one swallow, my hand wrapped around the lowball glass so tight I half expected it to shatter. Hunter’s eyes were all over Char. If his hands followed, I’d have to break them.

  “Dance with me Freckles.” He had Char’s hand. They disappeared before I could even respond. My mood grew darker the merrier everyone else’s became. I ordered an iced-cold draft. The frothy foam slid down the back of my throat and cooled me down. Just when I felt like an ass for feeling like the Grinch—some fucktard grinded into his girl so hard his elbow hit my beer sloshing it down my shirt.

  “Idiot,” I growled, scowling. He was younger than me, completely oblivious to his fuckery. The girl he was making out with brushed up against me. I was pinned between the bar and them. Her perfume was so strong, I turned my head. This scene was old. I used to revel in shit like this. But now my fixer upper and work were my life, not drunken nights kissing strangers. Putting what was left of my beer down, I put out two palms nudging the dude out of my way. He lifted his head, annoyed I interrupted. “You spilled my beer.”

  “And?”

  My cheeks flushed. I wasn’t about to get into a bar fight and make the papers. Instead, I killed him with one glare before winding through the crowd on my way to the men’s room. “Fuck, this,” I hissed, eyeing Hunter and Char. He had her wrapped up in his arms with his face pressed against her neck. The tip of my shoe kicked the bathroom door open. I dabbed at my shirt with paper towels, but it barely helped.

  I was cornered as soon as I walked out. “Sorry about your beer.” She pressed up against me, her palm on the wet spot on my chest.

  Her touch made my pec constrict. Even my muscles were trying to get away. Her dress was cut so low in the front, the only thing missing from view were the two bull’s eyes.

  “Not interested.”

  “I find that impossible to believe.”

  “Not a smidge.” My jaw got tight. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

  She shrugged. “Nice watch…. Nice everything,” she eyed me up and down.

  “Not for you honey.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, but the action only made her eyes stick to my popped veins and thick forearms. I rolled my eyes, I was jacked, always tan and very secure in who I was. Even in my T-shirt and jeans, I carried myself well. The flashy watch at my wrist probably was a bad idea. But I never took it off. I haven’t been out in the scene for months but apparently, I still draw women like sugar and honey—do bees.

  She pouted. Her kissed off lipstick a stained memory on her lips, her hair was messed up from a man’s hands combing through it. It made me miss having that. Being the one to do it to a woman. She must’ve misread my thoughts and leaned closer.

  “Get away from my girl,” the drunken prep-tard warned, coming at me. I caught his fist in my open palm, brought it down and twisted it behind him. He yelped in pain like the little bitch he was. The girl in question gasped, pupils dilating. I smirked, knowing who she was hot for and it wasn’t the rich bitch boy she came with.

  “I don’t go for girls who show everyone their religion. That shit should be saved for their own man’s eyes.” With that I let him go, looked down my nose at the wannabe housewife hooker and walked off, feeling her wanting eyes burn a hole in my back. I found my way to Char and Hunter, no longer dancing, they were holed up in a corner, drinks in hand. He was whispering shit into her ear that had her giggling back at him. My eyes narrowed. I’d seen him run that play a million times, never thought I’d witness it being done on Char.

  “He’s got crabs.”

  “What?” Char’s bright eyes and smiling face, turned to me.

  “Caught them at the shore in 2019. Fact.” Hunter was pissed. Face scowling, eyes all dark thunder. “Bro, I warned you. Don’t use your dick moves on my sister.”

  “We’re just having fun, relax.” Char put a hand on my forearm. Her nose scrunched when she smelled beer and that girl’s desperation. “What happened to you?”

  “Gold-digger and her preppy boy toy. Ready to bounce?”

  Just then Hank took the mic from the stage announcing every girl who entered the contest needed to get up there. Char handed Hunter her drink squealing as she rushed away.

>   “Guess we’re staying.”

  “Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me,” I warned.

  “She’s cute. Fun. Guess I needed that.”

  “Go look somewhere else.”

  “…I want to ask her out.”

  “She lives in New York.”

  “I have a lot of frequent flyer miles.”

  “I bet you do,” I growled, finally facing him. “No.”

  “You’re not her father.”

  “I’m worse. I’m her twin, been with her since conception. Can’t get tighter than that. Turn your eyes somewhere else, bro. Not on my sister.”

  He blew out a breath, stared at me hard. Shit. Was he about to fight me for her? After a few seconds of our stare down he backed off and left to buy another round.

  My eyes narrowed to slits at Char on the stage. But lucky for me, Ms. Gold-digger was really hamming it up. She leaned over, wiggled her rack. Then shimmed her hips, lifting one side of her already non-existent hemline higher.

  Men groaned and cheered. She showed them their money’s worth and ten minutes later declared the victor.

  “Wade!” She screamed, jumping up and down, while batting false eyelashes. Her boobs bounced like two braless basketballs. Prep boy was proud showing off his prize. I shook my head, having a slut on your arm was never a prize. The guy was too much of a dumb shit to realize that. But maybe someday he would.

  The rest of the night was awkward after I cock-blocked Char and Hunter. Each of them fidgeted nervously. It was clear I was the third wheel wrecking their good time.

  We left after midnight, marveling at the falling snow. “It never snows like this here!” Char spread her arms wide, spinning herself in circles. She threw her head back, sticking her tongue out like a kid. Hunter stared hungrily at her, so I shoved him. Maybe a bit harder than I meant to. Before I knew what was happening, we were both down in the snow, wrestling like teenagers.

  “You know what?” Hunter rolled away, slapping the snow off his jeans. “This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

  “Because you’re a loser?” I stood, also brushing the snow off.

  “No. Because it’s like old times. Can’t wait for summer at the Outer Banks again.”

  “Me, too.” Char answered dreamily.

  It did feel kind of good. Like the warm spot in my heart turned on after being switched off. I still had my back up about Hunter trying to seduce my sister. We used an app to hire a car to take us back to the city. I hated to leave my Tesla here overnight, but I had a few drinks, plus there was the snow.

  I promised Hunter, I’d be in touch after Christmas to hang out more. We said our goodbyes and headed separate ways. The following morning, Char and I drove back to the shore house for Christmas. We rediscovered our childhood playing board games and Nintendo. I was actually a bit sad when Christmas morning came because she was leaving the next day.

  “What’s this?” I asked as she handed me a wrapped gift. “You already gave me the painting and a professional photo shoot.”

  She grinned. “Open it.”

  I tore the paper unable to stop the groan from escaping. “At least I’m not on the cover.”

  “Don’t you want to flip through it and see what month you are?”

  “Not really.” I put the calendar down to get her gifts.

  “Turn it over.”

  There I was. Not on the front but on the entire back cover. I put the calendar facedown back in the box eager to give her my gifts.

  “Your first gift I couldn’t wrap. It’s here. One free week of your choosing.”

  “Just one?”

  “Hey, I need to make back some money here.”

  “I’m just kidding. Thanks! I can’t wait!”

  “You better book fast. Carlos emailed this morning. The pictures he took came out so good I’m putting the cottage up this week on OBXrentals.com.”

  “I’ll take something in September.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, you deserve to make a killing, Chase. I mean it. Sorry for all my man whore comments. You really are a catch.”

  “You are too, Char. Why are you alone for the holidays? I mean I know why I am. This place and work are my mistresses.”

  “There was someone. But then it just slipped away.”

  “He was a fool then. No one should ever let you slip away.”

  She shrugged. “Anyway. This has been one of my best Christmases yet.”

  “Same.”

  We watched old Christmas movies on Netflix the rest of the day, feasted on leftovers while making to-do lists for the new year—which was Char’s idea of course.

  I drove her to the airport and waved until she disappeared. With her gone, the cottage felt lonely for the first time. My eyes fell to her gift. The one I didn’t glance at. “Dolphins,” I muttered.

  I opened the cabinet above the fridge, chucking the entire box inside. What I should have done was burn it.

  Three

  Worst Christmas ever…

  Wade: I can’t make it to see you. Sorry.

  My brows furrowed as I read his text. Gran had worked hard making a nice Christmas dinner. I splurged on my gift for him, a soft angora sweater from a clothing store I doubted I’d ever shop in even after I land a decent job.

  Me: What? Is everything okay? I have your present.

  Wade: I’m not sure how to tell you this… but I think we should break up.

  My head tipped back as if I’d been slapped. Instead of texting him back, I hit call. But it went straight to voicemail. Coward.

  Hands shaking, trying not to cry, my eyes focused on the cold, gray Christmas day. The one I was supposed to be spending with my boyfriend of almost two years.

  Me: This is really crappy of you. On Christmas? Not even in person? Can you at least respect me enough to call, so we can talk?

  Silence.

  Tears welled up now, threatening to spill. I counted to five, took deep breaths. The smell of Gran’s turkey and stuffing wafted in the air from under the closed door. For some reason this made the tears slip and fall. I mean I knew things with Wade weren’t right for some time, but dumping me on Christmas? Via text? Shameless. How am I going to face him on campus after the holidays? We were inseparable. Our tiny community college barely had nine hundred students living in the two dorms. This was going to be worse than high school. Especially since that viper Sierra has had her eyes on Wade since Sophomore year. She was always flirting with him. Giving him bedroom eyes with her falsies. He’d turn red in the face while telling me I was his only girl. The sick feeling in my gut, said something else.

  Last fall, when I was away visiting Gran, pics of the two of them were all over Instagram the night of the harvest party. Wade swore nothing happened between them while Sierra’s smirked at me ever since.

  I needed air.

  “Ryan? Can you help set the table?” Gran called from the kitchen. She knew no one else would get off their butts to help. They were too busy toasting my stepsister and her new fiancé.

  “I’ll be back in five. Just need to run out…,”

  I didn’t want Gran or anyone to see me crestfallen and completely gobsmacked. Not yet. Sighing, I pushed my feet into my winter boots, put on my thick puffer coat, some gloves and went outside. I didn’t want my family to see me cry. Especially my stepsister, Kendall. She was on fiancé number three in three years and showed up last night with a rock so heavy she’d sink into the Atlantic if she wore it in.

  Through my tears, the string lights blurred. The smoke of burning Yuletide logs filled the crisp winter air. I’d never been a romantic but being dumped on the holidays felt like a double punch. I fished my phone out from deep within my pocket opening Instagram.

  What a mistake.

  #Merry Christmas #NaugtiestElfContestWinner, he had typed under a pic of him and Sierra with their lips fused together while under the mistletoe.

  “I knew it!” Wade was supposed to be in Charleston with his fancy and
fine family. Not cheating on me with the campus she-devil.

  The pain of it cut through me sharper than the winter wind. Right there in the midst of twinkling lights, surrounded by homes with curling chimney smoke, I made a Christmas wish. More like a vow that next year would be different. By this time next year at exactly… I checked my watch… 2:03—I’d be over Wade and in Nags Head at the research program. Well on my way to rescuing captive dolphins. Pods of them.

  It’s my passion.

  But there’s only two spots available for the coveted Environmental Science Marine Program Research Unit in Nags Head. Only candidates with stellar grades and personal references from their professors are considered.

  Wade and I were supposed to work on our applications over break after spending so many nights planning our future. Dreaming about living on research vessels—saving the oceans one by one.

  Sierra.

  My short nails dug into my palm. She’s everything that made me feel… well less. I’m tall with an athletic build, medium brown hair, and toffee-colored eyes.

  When I met my best friend Kell, she clucked her tongue with a hand cocked on her hip informing me I had as much style sense as her great Uncle Herbert who grew up on a cotton farm.

  I didn’t have the means or the desire for designer dresses and handbags. I’m an ocean girl. Give me the sand and salt in my hair, the sun on my face and a pair of decent flip flops and I’m good. The girls on campus went apocalyptic when Wade and I became a thing. He was the golden boy on campus. Not athletic but cultured. Dressed well. Came from money. Big money and went for the girl from Jersey in Skechers and faded jeans.

  What a stupid fool I’d been. We were mismatched. Truthfully, my main attraction to Wade was that we shared the same passion about our career path. Turns out Sierra does, too. Maybe I was drawn to his quiet stability. I’ve pretty much been a loner. My mother was quick to move on with a new husband making a new family, leaving me feeling like an outsider in their new home.

  My father, well he was a traveling medical device salesman. His family was the road and whomever he met at a hotel bar. I spent my summers with him in Jersey. We lived out of cheap motels and his company car. As a kid, I felt like he genuinely wanted to spend summers with me and that was the only way he could. Looking back, it’s clear that having a kid in tow during his business meetings increased his sales numbers. I was the summer bump in his pay. My only one constant was always Gran. I could always pick up a phone and rely on her words of advice. Speaking of Gran, I headed back to the torture of Christmas with my mother’s new family which included my new stepsister and her perfect body and “perfect life.” Mom kept comparing me to her and it stung. Gran was there with a soft smile and encouraging roll of her eyes. I won’t miss Mom’s new family with my smirking stepsister who always thought having a boy’s name was so tragic.