The One Real Thing (Hart's Boardwalk) (13 page)

It was fair to say that I was pretty worked up by the time I got into bed after my eventful evening and I had no other choice but to take care of myself.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t even control my fantasies and so when I came it was to an image of Cooper Lawson thrusting inside of me.

My sleep after that was fitful and I woke up in the early hours of the morning, just as the sun was rising. Feeling restless and unsettled, I showered and dressed, deciding to take a calming walk on the beach. Kind of like the walk I’d intended to have the previous night before Cooper showed up with the intention of kissing me.

That was hot.

And romantic.

Just appearing like that and pulling me into his arms.

Nothing like that had ever happened to me before.

No! Stop! Not romantic. Not hot!

Liar.

I groaned at my increasing confusion over the situation as I departed from the inn.

The beach was quiet. In fact, I could see only one woman with her dog way up ahead.

As I strolled along the shoreline, my sandals in one hand, the breeze blowing my hair off my face and cooling the heat in my skin, I began to relax again.

My gaze was fixed on the ocean because there was something soothing about its rhythmic waves, but the dog barking brought my head around.

I saw the golden retriever bounding away from the woman in the opposite direction, heading toward a man who’d appeared around the bend in the beach. He was running along the shoreline. I smiled as he stopped running to pay attention to the dog, kneeling down to his haunches to pet and play with the animal.

Something about the guy was familiar, and the closer I got, the faster my heart started to thump in my chest.

He looked up as the dog’s owner jogged over to him.

Shit.

Cooper.

I contemplated turning around, but just at that moment he looked in my direction.

My stubborn pride refused to allow me to be deterred from my calming, soothing, relaxing walk on the beach because of him.

I kept walking toward him.

The woman appeared to be chatting to Cooper as he played with her dog, and the closer I got to them, I realized there were a lot of flirty grins being exchanged.

My stomach flipped unpleasantly.

See,
I told myself,
this is why you don’t complicate things
.
It’s not like you’re any different to him than any other woman.

I was nearing him when I started to panic.

Should I say hello and keep walking?

Should I stop to say hello?

Cooper looked up at me as the woman continued to talk and I couldn’t work out what his expression meant so I decided to go with a nod of hello and keep walking.

As I passed I heard the woman say, “We should have dinner again. Maybe tonight?”

Disappointment flooded me as I picked up speed, not wanting to hear his answer. So Golden Retriever Woman was one of his
“women.” I got it. And the night before, he’d been trying to add me to the list.

Jerk.

“Well, that was a little rude.”

I jumped as he suddenly appeared at my side. He wore a T-shirt and jogging pants, and the T-shirt was soaked with sweat. “Do you ever sleep?” I blurted out, thinking about how late he worked, how early he apparently rose, and the myriad of women in his bed rotation.

He ignored my question. “Why didn’t you stop to say hello?”

I scowled out at the water. “You were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“What if I wanted you to interrupt?”

I snorted and smirked up at him. “Oh, you really looked like you wanted me to interrupt.”

Cooper’s blue, blue eyes lit up. “You’re jealous.”

Infuriated, I could barely get the words out at first. “Jealous? What? Why I would be jealous?”

“You thought I was flirting and it bothered you,” he said, looking smug.

“It did not bother me.”

“Leanne is just a friend.”

“Yeah. Right. Like the kind of friend you wanted me to be last night.”

“I had intended only to walk you back to the inn last night. What happened—”

“Shouldn’t have. You’re right. But thank you for seeing me home,” I added, not wanting to be impolite since apparently his intentions had been honorable.

So what had the parting shot meant?
This isn’t over, Doc.

“Home?” Cooper said.

“Sorry?”

“Home. You said that last night, too. You called the inn ‘home.’”

I blinked, surprised, not even realizing I’d done that. “A slip. I meant back to my room. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He stared down at me with warmth in his eyes and with him all sweaty, his T-shirt clinging to his muscles, I was suddenly very aware of how big and masculine he was.

My fantasy came flooding back and I flushed. “You can go back to running now, if you want.”

He grinned. “I will. But first . . . I was thinking just because you have a man doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right?”

Confused by his sudden change of demeanor I had to wonder if this was a trick. But why would a guy like Cooper, who could get practically any woman he wanted, have to resort to tricking me into spending time with him? And if it wasn’t a trick could I risk the temptation? Being friends meant interacting with him for the rest of my vacation. That wasn’t a lot of days, but it was enough.

I stared into his rugged face, getting caught in those blue eyes.

“Right,” I said.

Oh, crap.

“It’s my day off tomorrow. Have you been to the fun park yet?”

“The fun park?”

Cooper recognized the uncertainty on my face. “We’re in our thirties, not dead.”

I laughed at his teasing, totally surprised that Mr. Flannel, alpha man, bar owner extraordinaire, wanted to take me to a fun park. “What about the Devlins?”

His expression grew serious and I wanted to kick myself for bringing it up. “Bailey filled you in.”

“Just a little,” I hurried to assure him.

“Don’t worry. She didn’t tell you anything the rest of the town wouldn’t fill you in on sooner or later.”

“Right. Small town. I just didn’t think you would want to spend time at one of their establishments.”

“If I made that a rule I’d have very few places to go to in this town. They own a lot of real estate.”

“So I’ve been told.” I studied him, not completely convinced by
his offer of friendship. “You really want to spend the day at a fun park with me?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t,” he said, all gruff about it.

It was kind of cute and hot at the same time. How’d he do that?

Damn.

I should not spend time with this man when I was fantasizing about spending
naked
time with this man. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Great.” He threw me that sexy, crooked, and now cocky grin as he started to jog backward. “See you tomorrow, Doc.”

I stared after him as he turned and began jogging in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing, Doc?” I murmured to myself.

“Thanks for letting me spend the morning here,” I said to Emery as I stopped at the front desk of the bookstore on my way out.

After returning to the inn, I’d forced breakfast past the butterflies in my belly and then walked to Emery’s for some much-needed quiet.

For the fourth time since I’d arrived in Hartwell I’d snuggled up on an armchair in Emery’s and whiled away my time reading. As always Emery was quiet, but every time I visited with her she said a few more words. I was starting to think she was becoming comfortable with me.

“I still can’t believe Emery Saunders talks to you,” Bailey had said at breakfast when I mentioned where I was going. “She looks like a frightened rabbit when I try to talk to her.”

I’d contemplated Bailey and her disgruntlement. “Let me guess—you brought up her shyness to her?”

Bailey had made a face as she collected my dirty plate from the breakfast table. “I only suggested she not be so shy around me. It’s me. I’m not scary.”

Snorting, I’d stood up to leave. “I used to be pretty shy as a teenager. I can tell you for a fact that someone as outgoing as you
telling a shy person not to be shy around her just makes her even more insecure about her shyness.”

Looking horrified, Bailey had whispered, “Fuck.”

I’d patted her shoulder. “You meant well.”

“Don’t. I messed up.” She’d cocked her head to the side in thought. “Maybe I should come with you and try to rectify it.” She’d taken in my expression and sighed. “Maybe not.”

In truth Emery reminded me of an abused animal. She’d take patience and gentle coaxing until she’d trust me enough to be a friend. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be in Hartwell long enough to do that. Or long enough to get to the bottom of why someone like Emery was so closed off.

“You’re welcome,” Emery said to me and gave me a gentle smile.

I smiled back, feeling a pang of longing as I wandered out of her store.

The thought of not being in Hartwell for very much longer upset me. I didn’t know if it was normal to feel that way about leaving your vacation spot or if the feeling ran deeper than the usual back-to-work blues.

For now I shook it off because I had other things on my mind. Or a person on my mind. A person who was giving me prehistoric-dragonfly-sized butterflies in my stomach.

Huh. Say “prehistoric-dragonfly-sized butterflies” five times fast
.

The quiet time at Emery’s hadn’t worked to distract me so I decided to head to Antonio’s for ice cream. On the way I spotted Vaughn Tremaine standing outside the entrance to his hotel, typing away on his phone. I almost considered turning back around.

It was childish of me, but I didn’t know how to interact with Vaughn, considering Bailey disliked him so much. I felt it would be better in my short stay there to just avoid him completely.

But there was no avoiding him now.

“Dr. Huntington.” He looked up from his phone and I stopped to be polite.

“Mr. Tremaine.”

He gave me that wolfish grin of his. “So you’re Bailey’s guest.”

“And friend now, too.” I thought I’d make that clear.

“I bet you are.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Just that Miss Hartwell has a habit of turning strangers into family. That’s why people return to her inn every year.”

I studied him, alerted by something in his tone that he couldn’t quite hide. “You admire her.”

Tremaine gave me a smirk. “I’m just amazed that someone with that much apparent charm and warmth can be sharper tongued and colder than the Snow Queen.”

“Descriptive,” I said dryly. “But that’s my friend you’re talking about, Mr. Tremaine.”

“Actually the woman I’m talking about is the one who has pitted an entire town against me because unlike the rest of them I refuse to divulge every aspect of my private life like we’re living in an episode of
The Real World
.”

“Ooh, watch, you’re showing your age there.”

He grinned at me. “Bailey’s rubbing off on you.”

“Nope, all me.”

“Well, I can see why you’re friends . . . but a warning, Dr. Huntington”—he stepped closer, the humor fleeing his expression—“Bailey Hartwell and her town like their openness. They don’t like secrets.”

Chilled, I tried to hide my sudden shiver.

Tremaine stepped back. “We city folk . . . we like our secrets, don’t we?”

What the hell . . . There was no way Vaughn Tremaine knew my secrets . . . “What does that mean exactly?”

What did he know?

“It’s just a friendly warning. If you have anything you don’t want these people to know, then it’s better not to get attached to them.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” My heart was racing.

He gave me a small smile. “I don’t know your secrets, Dr. Huntington,” he assured me. “But from your reaction, I now know you have them.”

“What kind of game are you playing?” I crossed my arms over my chest defensively, because suddenly I felt very vulnerable.

I was surprised then when a look of contrition entered his usually steely eyes. “No game. I promise. I just . . . It’s easy to get swept up in the charm of this place and forget that these people are only loyal to their own. I wouldn’t like to see anyone get hurt.”

There was something sincere in his voice that eased me. But also something telling. Had Vaughn Tremaine been hurt by the people of Hartwell? Was it possible for someone like him to be hurt?

Just then I thought it might be.

So I nodded my silent thanks, and he nodded at me in return. I walked away feeling as if I’d just caught a glimpse of a man that Bailey refused to see.