Bonfire Beach (8 page)

“And you think some jazz quartet is going to be special enough.”

“It would allow people to dance, at least,” Felicity pointed out.

“No one can dance to that boring, dusty old music.” Pulling out his phone, Zane quickly thumbed through it and turned it to face Felicity. “This is what gets people to dance. Trust me. I didn’t make as much money as I have by playing Sinatra in my clubs.”

Felicity leaned over to take the phone, her gaze drawn to the splashy homepage for the most popular and exclusive of Zane’s nightclubs, Mystique. Live music, hot bands, good cocktails, and a throng of scantily clad, model-beautiful people heaved and writhed across the screen. And yes, they certainly did all look as if they were having a wonderful time.

“But we’re not talking about one of your clubs, Zane.” Impatient, she tossed the phone back to him and crossed her arms over her chest. “This is a wedding, and weddings are supposed to reflect the personalities of the couple tying the knot. Not the personality of an overgrown teenager who’s made a fortune by catering to people’s desire to forget their troubles on the dance floor.”

Zane’s boots hit the porch floor with a thud as he sat up straight. “In other words, you think I’m making this all about me.”

“A little bit?” Felicity bit her lip, torn between pushing the argument further and doing whatever it took to erase the flat, hurt look from Zane’s eyes. “Look, I know your intentions are good. I get that you want to give Miles the most amazing wedding reception in the history of the world, because he reminds you of your brother and this is a milestone you’ll never get to share with Michael. I understand.”

“You understand nothing.” Zane threw himself out of his seat and paced the length of the wraparound porch.

Studying the V of his broad-shouldered, lean-hipped back in his tight gray sweater, Felicity’s heart ached for him. She understood more than he wanted to admit. She knew this man, deep down, in a way that scared her because it shouldn’t be possible between two people who’d only met a little over three weeks ago.

But Felicity was used to facing facts. And the fact here was that she was in big trouble with Zane Bishop. Because the temptation to bring a smile back to his face almost outweighed her longstanding need to present perfection on the professional level.

Almost.

“Okay.” She blew out a breath that stirred her bangs on her forehead. “Let’s table the entertainment question for now and go back to the décor. We agreed on enclosed, heated structures to protect guests from the ocean breeze. The clear roof and sides will allow guests to enjoy the sunset over the water during cocktail hour, then they can dance under the stars! The company I work with will deal with setup, floor leveling, additional heaters if we want them, and of course, lighting.”

Resting his hands on the porch railing, Zane slanted her a look. “Let me guess. No disco ball and colored lights.”

“Not at all.” Felicity smiled encouragingly. “I’m happy to talk color. I’m thinking a wash of pink or coral, something warm and flattering. And of course we’ll want luminarias like tea candles in paper bags or hurricane lamps along the boardwalk and any other walkways between venues. We could carry that theme through into the tents, with strands of paper lanterns.”

“Sounds lame.”

“It sounds romantic,” Felicity gritted out. “Honestly, have you ever even been to a wedding before?”

“Romantic, romantic, romantic.” Zane shifted his weight, thrusting his hips back and dropping his head between his bent arms. He groaned. “I hate that stupid word.”

A pang shot through Felicity’s chest, but she tipped up her chin. “Intimate, then.”

“Even worse.” Zane straightened abruptly, casting a smoldering look in Felicity’s direction. “Unless you mean it in the sexy fun times way. Because I’m always up for that.”

Liquid heat pooled in Felicity’s belly, temptation thick and tangible in the very air between them. Reading the desire in her face, Zane strode toward her and curled his big hands around her back. He set one knee on the porch swing bench to steady it, looming over her like some ancient god come to life to seduce a poor mortal woman into giving up everything for the joy of his touch.

When he kissed her, Felicity’s well-trained body responded instantly. A shiver lifted the hairs at the back of her neck and tightened her nipples to taut, hard knots. As if he were attuned to every pulse of her heart, every inch of her sensitized skin, Zane slid one palm around to cup her breast. Her nipple nestled into the hot center of his hand, assuaging the ache there while stoking the fire in her center even higher.

It was the middle of the day, and they were in full view of anyone who happened to walk down Island Road, or anyone who looked out the front window of Harrington House. But none of that was enough to pierce the cloud of sensual desire that surrounded Felicity along with Zane’s strong arms and huge, overwhelming body. Her brain shuddered to a stop, her thoughts drowned out by the pleasure flooding her system.

Until Zane nipped at her bottom lip and nuzzled down her jaw to her neck, whispering, “This is the kind of intimacy I can get behind.”

It was as if he’d dashed a bucket of cold water into her face.

Spluttering, Felicity hauled herself upright and hitched her shirt back into place. The sudden move rocked the swing, knocking Zane off balance and sending him back a step. Concern darkened his face. “What’s wrong?”

Heart stuttering, Felicity was terrified she’d never be okay again. “Sex is all you’re ever going to be able to give a woman, isn’t it?”

Zane’s expression shut down so fast, Felicity wondered if she’d imagined the stark flash of fear. “I haven’t heard any complaints.”

“That’s why you veto everything I suggest for the wedding reception, anything that hints at something deeper than the surface, where you like to live…”

“Hey.” His jaw jutted aggressively even as he retreated a pace. “I live my life to the fullest. That’s what I’m all about.”

Shaking her head in despair, Felicity said, “No. You wade through the shallows and avoid the depths. You want spectacle, excitement…fun.”

“Well, yeah.” Zane shrugged one shoulder. “I thought you were on board with that now. Didn’t we prove you can have fun and not lose everything?”

The genuine bewilderment in his voice tore at Felicity’s heart. “Moderation, right? That was your word. The same way I needed to remember not to be all business and control all the time, you need to know that life can’t be nothing but fun. At least, not for me. I need more.”

Zane turned on her like a cornered animal, face lined with anger. “Then you’re a fool. Asking for more is asking for pain. Yeah, I live on the surface—that’s where all the air is. Why would I want to get sucked down below the water? So I can drown?”

He choked off his words when Felicity reached for him, unable to help herself. “Zane, no. Don’t you see, I can’t keep going like this with you. I can’t pretend I can be with you every night, fight and laugh with you every day, and keep from…”

“From what? Enjoying yourself?” Zane sneered, painfully handsome in the fading afternoon light.

Felicity took a long look, filling her heart to the brim with the image of this damaged, vibrant, exciting, totally unavailable man. “Sure. Let’s call it that,” she said quietly as she let the truth crash over her.

Zane Bishop was never going to fall in love with her. He wouldn’t allow himself to feel anything that real, that permanent, that deep. And Felicity?

She had to get out while she still had a hope of halting her headlong plummet into a lonely, unrequited forever.

Bending down, she gathered up the binders, papers, and colored pens and sticky notes that had slid off the swing in all the commotion. “You win, Zane. The reception is all yours.”

He recoiled as if she’d struck him. “What are you talking about,” he demanded harshly.

Keeping her head down, Felicity was proud of the steadiness of her voice. “I’ll work with Miles and Greta on the wedding ceremony at the yacht club, but I’m done planning the reception. Decorate it however you want, bring in your rock stars and acrobats, hell—light the beach up with fireworks and stadium lights. Whatever you want, but leave me out of it.”

“You’re talking crazy. What about putting on the perfect wedding to impress Miles Harrington and all his fancy friends?”

Zane leaned one shoulder against the white column that supported the porch roof, a deliberately amused smirk twisting his mouth. That smirk faded quickly when Felicity finally met his eyes.

She didn’t know what he saw in her expression, but whatever it was, it convinced him she was serious when she said, “Congratulations. Goal achieved. You taught me that perfection isn’t the be all, end all of life. So plan the party on your own, and email or text me if you need help finding vendors. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

Felicity slipped by him, intent on heading upstairs to pack her bags. She’d see if her bride minded if she moved her things over to Greta’s old apartment. Forcing her numb brain to go through the motions of making a plan and executing it, Felicity was startled by the hand that landed on her shoulder.

For a brief, ecstatic moment, her heart jumped into her throat. Had she gotten through to him? Would he stop her from leaving? But one glance at Zane’s closed, granite-jawed face dropped Felicity’s heart down into the pit of her stomach.

Only a single flex of the muscle in Zane’s jaw betrayed his tension. With an easy, empty smile that nothing to warm his ice-blue eyes, he said, “I didn’t picture you as someone who gave up and walked away from something good. Guess you’re not the person I thought you were.”

The words cut deeply, but Felicity refused to let him see her bleed. “It’s always a mistake to try to change someone else into who you want them to be. I guess we both learned a valuable lesson here.”

Before he could retaliate and push her into saying something she might regret, Felicity turned and walked away.

“You know what this island needs? A bar. With alcohol. And cool people.” Zane bent over and rested his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Cooper Haynes paused a few steps ahead of him, further up the hill and not winded at all, the jerk. “A hike clears your head. Alcohol only dulls it.”

“Maybe I want to be dull,” Zane grumbled, straightening and glaring up at the sharp sunlight filtering through the maritime forest canopy.

“What you want is a distraction,” Cooper pointed out. “And since Leo is holed up at the Fireside Inn listening to poetry or something, and Miles is busy trying to relate to Greta’s brothers, and you struck out with your wedding planner, you’re out of options. It’s explore the island with me, or drink in Miles’s kitchen alone, like a sad bastard.”

Zane didn’t want to admit that the idea of drinking himself under the kitchen table sounded kind of appealing. Maybe he was a sad bastard. Digging deep, he pasted on a who-cares grin and said, “Where are we going, anyway? Tell me this isn’t one of those hikes that goes around in circles and is a lame-ass metaphor for how the journey is the point, not the destination.”

Casting him a look of mock annoyance, Cooper pointed up the trail to the crest of the hill where it flattened out into what looked like a rocky cliff. “Don’t be a dick, or your destination is going to be the choppy water at the base of that cliff, when I push you off it. If you ever make it to the top of this hill.”

Zane tamped down the instinctive shudder at the sense memory of cold waves closing over his head and strode determinedly forward. “Keep your shirt on, I’m coming.”

They finished the hike in silence, emerging from the trees onto a flat rock that looked out over the horizon. The ocean stretched out endlessly, like gray-blue paint smudged across a canvas, and for the first time since he was a kid, Zane could admit that it was beautiful.

Felicity had given him that. And then she’d walked out of his life like it all meant nothing.

“What’s eating you?” Cooper squinted at him through the bright winter light, his flannel shirt, dark jeans, three-day beard growth making him look like a lumberjack. “You usually can’t hold onto a bad mood for two minutes, much less two days.”

Anger pulsed, hot and bright, under Zane’s breastbone. “I’m fine.”

Plopping down on a rock shaped almost like an armchair, Cooper pulled the stopper out of his canteen and took a long glug of water. “Right. Because moping around with a scowl is totally normal for you.”

“So I’m not ever allowed to have an off day.” Zane crossed his arms, and turned his back on the view. “You saying you’re only friends with me because I’m a good time—and if I stop being fun, you’re out?”

Real irritation crinkled Cooper’s dark blonde brows. “Don’t be a moron.”

Coop’s scowl reassured Zane like nothing else could have. He could actually feel his shoulders drop two inches when the muscles uncoiled from battle-ready tension.

“Sorry, man.” Zane blew out a breath. “It’s been a long week. And I’ve still got a ton to do if I want to pull it out for Miles’s party.”

“The wedding planner is supposed to be helping, right? If she’s not towing her weight, sic Greta on her. That woman is fierce when it comes to people taking advantage of her fiancé.”

They smirked at each other, seriously amused at the idea of anyone daring to take advantage of Miles Harrington, the most powerful, controlled, masterful businessman any of them knew. But the man did turn into a pussycat around the woman he loved, so maybe it was a good thing Greta had claws of her own.

Zane ran his fingers through his hair. “Nah, I don’t want to ask Felicity for help.”

Looking uncomfortable, Cooper said, “Look, I don’t want to pry. And I definitely don’t want to set myself up to give you relationship advice because, dude, I’m the least qualified guy in the world, on that front. But it seemed like things were going okay with that chick.”

“They were.” Zane tipped his head back into the breeze, letting the sun dazzle his eyes. “At least, I thought they were. I guess she felt differently.”

Cooper made an unimpressed noise. “I saw you two together. Trust me, bro, if she felt anything different from you, it was that she wanted to get married and have your babies immediately, if not sooner.”