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

by Jax Hart

  “Well, it’s much hotter that’s for sure.”

  “Come meet Daisy and the rest of the animals. Any chance you are looking for a cat?”

  “I work too much.”

  “Do you need the money, Gran?” Concern furrowed my brow. I knew Pop’s medical bills must’ve made quite a dent. Maybe I should give Gran back her money…if I ever get my own money back from Mr. Esquire.

  She waved me off. “The work keeps my mind sharp. I enjoy it.”

  “I’d love to visit you at work next time I visit. Maybe at the end of summer?”

  “That would be lovely. Oh, that reminds me, my boss is having a company BBQ for the 4th. Family is invited and well, since you’re my family dear, I’d be delighted if you came.”

  “I can’t Gran. I need to stay here to take care of the animals.”

  “It’s here. At a beach house. I forgot the address, but I can always text it to you. He planned a nice time for the 4th on the beach for the fireworks.” She was so hopeful. So excited. She had a weird gleam in her eye I mistook for nerves at attending a function without anyone.

  “Okay. I’m sure it’ll be fun. You can stay with me. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “Oh, he’s putting half the company up.”

  “I thought you said he was a devil?”

  “Oh, he is a tricky one. All smiles and good humor and then bam, before you know it—you’re baking him cakes and color coding his files. He tricks you with charm.”

  “It almost sounds like you have a crush on him,” I snorted.

  “I’m not the only one,” she muttered under her breath. I raised my eyebrows, looking away. “Oh, Ryan.” She spotted the boat across the road, dancing gracefully in the water. The palm of her hand rested on the glass as she gazed out.

  “Want to go for a quick ride on the water?”

  “No. No,” her eyes misted. “Some memories I keep tucked away; afraid new ones will tarnish the edges. I still see him at the stern, hands turning on the motor.”

  I stood behind her, “I do, too.”

  “Oh dear, I’ve made a mess of this,” she opened her purse, using a tissue to dab her eyes.

  “Nonsense. I just hope someday, I’ll find a love like you and Pops had. A good, honest man who will love me until the day he dies.” She took my hand in hers, giving it a firm squeeze.

  “I want that for you too. More than you know. And I think you might find him sooner than you think.”

  “Doubtful. The only men in my life are Roscoe the lab mix and Ken, the fifty-year-old captain on the research vessel.”

  Gran loved Daisy. She even got a good laugh when Roscoe tangled his leash around her legs. We walked along the docks. Ate at a pub. A sleek SUV with tinted windows pulled up outside the Rescue Center at five. I was hopeful someone was here to adopt until I saw the driver emerge in a crisp black suit. “Ms. Dempsey?”

  “That would be my ride.”

  “You hired a car to bring you here and back? Gran that’s hundreds of dollars?”

  “I didn’t. My boss did.”

  “What? Why?”

  She shrugged. “He likes me. Was concerned for my safety when I told him I was planning on taking the day off to visit you. It is a two plus hour drive each way…”

  “Just who is this boss of yours? Christian Grey?”

  “No honey. He makes him look like minced meat.”

  “Ugh, I hate him already. I bet he’s bossy, moody, only drinks eight-dollar coffees and has a stick up his butt just like most attorneys. He probably looks down his nose at people, has a hissy if he doesn’t get his way—” I paused, realizing I was projecting my own image of C.C. Esquire on Gran’s boss.

  “You’ll find out soon enough. See you on the 4th! Wear something pretty and please paint your nails.”

  “I won’t smell like fish or wear something covered in dog hair, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Well, it is a hoity-toity firm. But you do me proud just be being you, honey.”

  “Thanks, Gran.”

  For some reason I felt unsettled after she left. I went down to the shelter. Daisy was tired from her earlier walk. But Roscoe barked as soon as he saw me. I took him out, put his life vest on and grabbed a beer from Steve’s fridge.

  As the sun set, I raised the bottle high, “To you Pops!” Roscoe lifted his head from his perch on the bow. The dog loved the water as much as I did. Sometimes, Dr. Winnfield even lets me bring him to class and out on shorter expeditions. I took the boat out through a narrow channel, under a bridge. I knew I was asking for it, coasting past the area where the house was that I had rented. Sometimes I bike past or on calm nights like tonight, take the boat offshore. I don’t know what I would do if I actually ever saw Mr. Hotshot at his house. But a part of me is dying to catch a glimpse of my foe.

  “Who is that?” The words were a sigh carried in the air. He was… jacked. Not slim but not bulky… but the perfect in-between. In a pair of trunks, he had his board under one arm as he scanned the waves from the shore. I swore his gaze went right through me, but from this distance there was no way he could make out a single feature on my face. I wished I had my binoculars, though. It was too far to make out his features, but I could tell a lot from his stance. He was confident, strong, his posture was relaxed but I sensed he could dive under the curl of a wave in a second’s notice. His bronzed skin was defined by the fading rays of sun. But there was no way he was C.C. That man would not be out catching waves during the weekday, he was probably somewhere in a city skyscraper, barking orders at some poor paralegal while plotting ways to torment me.

  I turned the boat around and headed back to the other side of the peninsula, away from the million-dollar homes and even more expensive yachts to where the working class like me resided.

  Eighteen

  July 4th Weekend

  “I need a flashlight!” Hunter called from the basement. The string lights I had hung from the roof, combined with the hot tub and Char’s hairdryer which I was convinced was supercharged, blew a fuse. Add new wiring to the list of things on my to-do list.

  “Hang on a sec!”

  I opened the cabinet above the fridge, the flashlight was there, but the box of calendars Char had given me for Christmas had vanished. I shook my head. “She stole the calendars.” I grinned, fingers itching to send her another email. Of course, it was just to “document” for the case that she had stolen a Christmas gift from my sister. No need to mention exactly what it was. She knew and so did I. I gave Hunter the flashlight before standing out on my back deck to gauge the waves. My board was in the sand ready to go. I wondered if she skimmed the pages, glanced at July? I opened up my app baiting her was becoming a necessity.

  From: homeowner1278

  To: ryanhill99@gmail.com

  SUBJECT: Missing Items

  Dear Miss Hill,

  I am missing a very rare, sentimental Christmas gift. It was still wrapped and in the cupboard above my fridge. Let this email be official notice that in small claims court I will be petitioning for this gift to be returned to me. Add thief to the list of things you are in addition to being a liar.

  Yours truly.

  C.C. Esquire

  I was tempted to write gorgeously infuriating. However, she doesn’t need to know that since I saw her face, I’ve been rereading our communications, constantly checking the app, and pining for a new message from her.

  I had set my trap. Now all I had to do was wait for her to walk into it.

  Nineteen

  “Gran? You never texted the address?”

  “Ryan?! I can’t hear you… you’re breaking up!”

  As if I would’ve been able to hear her over the crashing waves, people talking in the background coupled with… a steel drum band?

  “I need the address!”

  “My friend, Hunter drove me. I don’t know the address. Look for the string lights. Red, white, and blue!”

  I started to grow irritated. Gran was always
on top of things… this didn’t make sense.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “What?”

  “Ugh! Just turn on your location services.”

  “Here, I’m handing my phone over to someone who can help.” I pressed a hand to my damp forehead, listening as she walked in the sand, the sound of a party gradually fading…

  “Hello?”

  Sexy, masculine, flirty how did he manage all of that in one word?

  “Hi, I’m Bunny’s granddaughter… I need the address of the party.”

  “There’s no parking for blocks. Best bet is to walk the beach.”

  “Just share the location service with me, okay?”

  “Bossy. That’s hot.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Who are you?”

  “Hunter.”

  “How old are you?”

  “How old are you, darling?” His southern accent was thick.

  “You’ll find out soon enough. How do you know my Gran?”

  “I’m her boss’s BFF. Hey by any chance are you that hot chick from the picture Bunny has on her fridge?”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but I had an image in my head of some rich, preppy player thinking he was all that. “No. I’m one of the ugly grandkids.”

  “Sorry, about that darling.” The call ended abruptly. But seconds later I had Gran’s location.

  “Come on girl, we have a party to crash!” Daisy trotted happily into my Jeep. Twenty minutes later, I pulled over. Trying to find parking was futile. I ended up halfway on someone’s lawn praying no one would tow me. Daisy was in her harness, leash wrapped around my wrist. I hoped the fireworks wouldn’t make her freak out. I tied a flag bandana around her neck the words, “Adopt me” visible. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “Dammit. I suck at this rescue shit. I’m going to cry like a baby when someone falls in love with you the way I have.” I was off kilter, running late to the 4th of July BBQ and after that strange call not in the least looking forward to it.

  The latest message from C.C. Esquire also had thrown me off.

  Give Mr. July back?

  Never.

  The hot pin-up guy had become my make-believe boyfriend. He was the one I fantasized about late at night or when my hormones went into overdrive. He was the first thing that went on my wall in my new apartment.

  I’d just have to deny it. There was nothing else to say. What kind of a Christmas gift was a male review calendar anyway? It was probably a gag gift, from one of those Christmas exchange games. He was over exaggerating the sentimental value. I was sure of it.

  I didn’t respond.

  I couldn’t. I was guilty as hell. But putting a lie in writing didn’t sit well. I’d just ignore it and him. Our court date was in six days anyway. I’d meet him face to face soon enough. That in itself was enough to make me feel ill.

  Finally making my way past the waving beach grass with their roots firm beneath the dunes, I reached open sand. Small bonfires and beach blankets were scattered about. I mumbled a bunch of “excuse me’s” before making it to the wet part of the sand. The waves rolled in on their soft sighs of thunder. The sky was indigo. A dark purple fading to black. Stars scattered like white diamonds. It was a night for magic and romance. Or maybe I was still humming from using my toy while thinking of my Mr. July. Either way, the air was charged with something I couldn’t quite define.

  Kids waved sparklers while their parents looked on. Gran said I wouldn’t be able to miss her boss’s house since he had hung red, white, and blue string lights from his roof. She also said his fire would be the biggest since he paid for some fancy permit.

  “You made it!” Gran got up from her lawn chair, pulling me in for a quick hug. Just then the first rocket shot up to the sky, exploding in a burst of color. Daisy started barking and charged forward catching me off guard. Gran’s chair fell over. Daisy dashed around beach blankets and beer bottles. As I watched, my heart exploded like falling stars.

  I took off, jumping over smaller fires, hurdling over chairs following the sounds of her excited barks. She was after something or someone. I got a brief glimpse of her bushy tail right before it disappeared behind an old plankboard bathhouse. A set of broad shoulders emerged from the shadows.

  “Looking for something?”

  I turned, out of breath but he stole what was left of it completely away. Another firework exploded, lighting up the sky behind him. I gasped as it illuminated his face. He was more tan than his picture, making his eyes stand out. Barefoot in a pair of chino shorts paired with a white T-shirt he was perfection. He reached out, brushing an errant strand of hair that stuck to my sweaty cheek aside. His brief touch felt like a thunderbolt.

  “Daisy.”

  “Hi, Daisy.”

  I pushed the rest of my hair off my face, feeling my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth. I reached for the dog and he placed her in my arms.

  “Let me get you some water.”

  “No, please. I’m fine.”

  “Your friend looks like he could use some.”

  “It’s a she.”

  “Ah, I have a bad habit of assuming sexes.”

  What was left of my brain short circuited. My calendar guy just said the word sex in a sentence. As I held Daisy in my arms, I felt her ribs heaving as she panted. Even with the ocean breeze, it was a hot summer night. “Yes, to eh, water. She is panting hard.”

  He led me up a back deck, where red, white, and blue string lights hung over a hot tub.

  A remarkably familiar hot tub.

  I sucked in a breath, feeling like a nervous cat on a hot tin roof. He slid open the backdoor. I followed him into the kitchen. The same kitchen where months ago I had sung offbeat while mixing margaritas.

  The key fob to Gran’s car sat in a basket, the familiar Lily Pulitzer key chain I had given her last Christmas caught my eye.

  He noticed me staring. “Safety first. My guests started drinking early.”

  I cleared my throat, dying to get out of this house. Especially since I had just noticed the black orb security camera in the corner of the kitchen. Mr. Hot-shot Homeowner wasn’t taking any chances.

  A smile tipped my lips up, as I imagined him in horn-rimmed glasses hovering over a laptop, feverishly checking the camera feeds from his beach rental.

  Fourth of July week on OBX—a house like this could easily get twenty thousand. Mr. July placed a bowl on the floor. I set Daisy down feeling awkward.

  “So, Daisy. Are you just here for the holiday weekend?”

  “Actually, I live on the other side of the inlet. By the bakery.”

  He perked up hearing this.

  “Why haven’t I seen you before?” He smiled not only with that sexy mouth but with his eyes as he perused me.

  I blushed, eyes falling to my coral painted toes. I was in a pair of old denim cutoffs with a white cotton, eyelet tank top. My limbs were almost as dark as his from spending so much time on the ocean. My hair almost sun-bleached from medium brown to caramel. I wore no makeup. I had no one to impress. It was just Gran’s co-workers who she told me were all old, overweight married men. I’d kill Gran later.

  “I work a lot,” I finally answered.

  “So do I.”

  “I should probably come clean and tell you who I am.” He crossed his arms, kicking one bare foot back on the bottom counter. His eyebrow lifted. While my eyes were drawn to his muscular arms.

  “I think you might be my grandmother’s boss.”

  “Bunny is your grandma?” He deadpanned.

  “Sure is.”

  “Hot damn, I’m going to either give her a raise or fire her for not setting us up.”

  This time my small blush became a sunburn. He was totally checking me out, without makeup, old jeans, tank and all. “I—we should get back. Or we’ll miss the show.”

  “I have a confession of my own. Don’t you want to hear it? Your grandmother is the best PA I’ve ever had. But don’t tell her I said that.
She’s impertinent enough as it is. Always gives it right back.”

  “I’m glad. I haven’t seen her this happy in years.”

  The lie between us hovered on my lips, seconds away from falling. I moved to pick-up Daisy, but he scooped her up before I could. He cuddled her under his right arm, pressing her gently against his side. Then he draped his left arm around my shoulder as we walked outside.

  He was warm, smelled like pine and soap. My nipples peaked in my bra. I bit my lip. It didn’t feel to right to pull away even though we had just technically met. Was he… could he be C.C.? Red-faced, I couldn’t look at him, even though I felt his eyes on me.

  It hit me like a ton of bricks. All this time he’s been here miles apart from where I sleep. I have him pinned up in my kitchen, a spare hidden under my bed. I’ve touched myself so many times, while dreaming of his smirking, smug face and chiseled body. He’s my grandma’s boss and possibly my nemesis? Our court date days away? Every pre-conceived notion I had of him blurred. My head was still spinning that Gran’s boss could be Mr. Hotshot Homeowner and my Mr. July all wrapped up in six plus feet of pure Adonis-like perfection.

  “This is us over here. Everyone! This is Bunny’s granddaughter Daisy and her friend,” he stopped quirking a brow.

  “Kismet.” I dumbly answered, ignoring Gran’s sharp look. My mind instantly recalling the word for what was taking place.

  Everyone said polite hello’s while two pairs of sharp eyes noticed his arm still around me. Gran’s and a striking woman. She eyed me up and down in a similar way he had.

  “I’m Chase, by the way. He leaned down whispering with lips that almost touched my ear.

  Goosebumps broke out across my skin, my nipples were still erect, and I hoped in the dark no one would notice, yet I knew his eyes missed nothing. He led me to a prime spot in front of the fire, sat down, tugging me with him. Daisy happily sat in his lap, licked his fingers, then rolled onto her back, eyes pleading for a belly rub. Even the canine wanted his hands on her.

  I tried to relax, pretended to focus on the fireworks. It was an excuse not to talk. My heart beat fast, so fast, I knew he could sense I felt like a deer waiting to flee the predator. He finally leaned over again, “I don’t bite. Well, never wanted to before.” I turned my face to his, it was so close his pupils dilated as his eyes fell to my lips. I licked them on instinct, hearing his groan as the fireworks exploded around us in a grand finale. “Breakfast tomorrow?”