Seaside Embrace(6)

“Gee, thanks, sis,” she said with a sarcastic lilt to her voice.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean, you have more experience than me. You enjoy yourself more. You’re freer. I’m not a prude or anything, but you have no qualms about any of it, and I…I’m slower to the finish line, I guess.”

“That’s okay.” Jana sighed. “I’ll figure it out.”

Harper hugged her, then climbed into her car. “You always do.”

Jana wasn’t so sure about that. “Have a great time writing! Make it hot and sexy. Think of me as your character.”

Harper waved and blew her a kiss as she drove away.

The dance studio was located around the corner from the harbor. Jana walked along the road thinking about Harper’s suggestion. There was no way she’d call Hunter out in front of everyone, because she might not like his answer. That thought bothered her. She really did like him as a friend, and as a lover. It was just putting the two together that got messy for them, because it couldn’t lead anywhere.

She gazed at the upper deck of the Pearl Restaurant, where couples were sitting beneath colorful umbrellas. They looked happy, the men and women leaning in close. Jana hadn’t had a real boyfriend since Spencer, and that was five years ago. Relationships petrified her. They made her feel claustrophobic. But it was scenes like these that made her heart flutter longingly and a little voice whisper in the back of her mind about one day…followed by the urge to run in the opposite direction.

She shifted her gaze to the gallery next door and noticed a man carrying a large metal sculpture of a fish. It was nearly as long as he was. The artist, a handsome man in his midthirties who sometimes sat out front of the gallery while he worked, followed him out. The smile on the artist’s face told of his joy of finding a home for a piece of his artwork, and she wondered if Hunter felt that way when he sold one of his pieces.

As she neared the studio entrance, she realized how strange of a thought that was, because when it came to Hunter, she usually didn’t think much beyond his looks, his danger zone, and the pigheaded opinions that came out of his big mouth.

Oh, that mouth.

No, she wasn’t going to stroll down Hunter Road today. She needed to concentrate on her impending meeting with the Cape Cod Times to solidify marketing space, and then she had three more classes to teach.

Her cell phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her purse, and her pulse quickened at the sight of DO NOT RESPOND! on the screen. She stared at the screen for a long time, debating whether she should open it. Who was she kidding? She swiped the screen, unable to resist reading Hunter’s text.

Pick you up at 7 to watch the sunset before the bonfire. Be ready.

She had to read it twice to believe it. What the hell was he up to, telling her what to do? She wasn’t about to be told to be ready for any man.

She typed a quick reply—No, thanks—and pressed send, irritated with him for assuming she would want to go anywhere with him. Seconds later her phone vibrated with another text.

Is that any way to treat a romantic invitation?

Lord, really? Was he that competitive? She responded with, What do you really want?

Her phone rang seconds later, stopping her in her tracks. She accepted the call and put the phone to her ear. Before she could say a word, Hunter’s deep voice flooded her ear.

“The truth.”

She sighed. “What?”

“You asked what I wanted. I want you to admit that you want to be with me.”

“Hunter—”

“I’m not going to be baited into a fight. Just say you want me, and you’ll feel much better.”

He said it so confidently that despite her annoyance, it made her smile. “Oh, will I? Well, for your information, I don’t want you.” If she were Pinocchio, her nose would have instantly grown.

“Now that we’ve established that you’re a sucky liar, I’ll be at your place at seven. I don’t like to wait, so be ready.”

“Oh, that’s super romantic,” she said flatly. “Listen, I—”

“Seven, pretty girl. See you then.” He ended the call, leaving her slack-jawed, annoyed, and slightly turned on.





Chapter Five


HUNTER SHOVED HIS phone in his pocket and stalked up front to find Clark. They’d stayed up half the night talking about Clark’s troubled marriage, and Hunter was even more determined to get his buddy to work things out with Nina. She was a beautiful woman with a big heart, and he knew from what he’d witnessed, and from the things Clark had said last night, that she was an incredible mother. Their trouble seemed to boil down to Clark feeling undesirable and stripped of his manhood, and Hunter had no experience with that. But he was willing to try to figure it out. Right now, though, as he leaned against Clark’s desk and crossed his arms over his chest, he needed his buddy’s help. Clark was married. He’d once romanced his wife into marrying him. Maybe talking about that would remind him how much he loved her.

“Romance one-oh-one. Give it to me.”

Confusion washed over Clark’s face. “What?”

“Romance. You know, flowers and all that bullshit. Tell me what I need to know.” He was determined to get the words I want you out of Jana, and to do that, apparently he needed to know how to be romantic.

Clark laughed so hard his chair tipped back. “You think I can teach you how to be romantic so you can bone that chick from the bar? Man, move on to the next girl. What the hell do I know about romance?”

“You’re married. You got a woman to marry you, Clark. There had to be romance involved.” Didn’t there? From what Sky said, everything Sawyer did was romantic. Maybe he was asking the wrong guy.

“I don’t know. I guess I did some things.” Clark sounded mildly annoyed. “I brought her flowers a few times. Made reservations for dinner, shit like that.”

Thinking of the flowers he’d picked from his yard earlier that morning, he said, “That’s romantic? Any jackass can do that.”

“But that’s what romance is. It’s doing stuff like that because you’re thinking about her and you want to see her smile, not doing crazy shit like taking her to Paris to show off.” Clark turned in his chair and typed something into the computer. He spun the monitor so Hunter could see the wikiHow page How to Be Romantic. “Here, study this.”

Hunter skimmed the headers: Be Thoughtful, Be Creative, Keep Things Fresh, Keep Growing Together.

A picture of a gift was beneath Be Thoughtful. He thought of her panties and chuckled, then thought of the flowers. Done.

There was a picture of a dude playing a guitar and a woman hanging over his shoulder smiling. Yeah, that totally doesn’t equate to getting sex. Moving on…The next picture featured books with a note tucked between them, sporting lipstick marks. Jana has an incredible mouth. Now we’re getting somewhere. She could put those luscious lips anywhere she’d like on him, but putting them on paper would be a waste. Next…

The next picture showed a couple texting. Done. And a picture of a dude cleaning out a car. Not happening.

Be Creative looked more interesting, with a picture of a couple lying in bed. The woman wore a red bra and panties as she rubbed the guy’s back. He was smiling—and probably hard. Well, Jana hadn’t rubbed his back, but she’d rubbed other things. Done.

More pictures of couples followed: reading together, drinking wine, holding balloons. Balloons? He skimmed over the next few images under Keeping Things Fresh: holding hands, shaving…He reached up and touched his whiskers. Really? Shaving?

He heard the front door open, and Grayson’s voice filled the lobby. “What the hell are you reading?”

Grayson’s face was freshly shaved, his thick hair neatly brushed.

“You shaved,” Hunter said.

“I also manscaped. Wanna see?” He pulled out the front of his pants. “Got a date tonight.”

“You shave for dates?” How did he not realize that before now?

“Sometimes. You think women like razor burn on their thighs?” Grayson shook his head like Hunter was an idiot. Maybe he was. He’d never once shaved his face for a date. Manscaping, sure, but his face?

Grayson pointed to a picture on the computer under the header Keep Growing Together. The picture showed a man lying on his back with his feet up in the air doing some crazy acrobatic shit with the woman. Her ass balanced on his feet as she hung upside down, legs in a cheerleading pose he’d seen girls do way back when, hands flying out behind her…while they kissed.

What. The. Fuck?

Grayson read the caption aloud. “Do activities that raise your adrenaline.” His eyes rose to the title of the article. “Seriously, dude? What are you two doing?”

Clark held his hands up in surrender. “It’s all him, man, not me. I just got out of this shit.”

Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, about that. You and I have to talk. You can’t leave your wife and kid, Clark.”

“Agreed,” Hunter said emphatically, just as he had last night about a billion times.

Clark opened his mouth to respond and Hunter said, “Don’t even try,” as Grayson chimed in with, “Get over it.”

“Whatever. Neither of you are married,” Clark responded. “So don’t give me shit. Things are different once you get hitched and have a kid.”