Jilted: Promise Harbor, Book 1 (9 page)

He looked up at her. “G’night, Devon. I…uh…swept the flower petals off the bed.”

She swallowed. “Thanks.” She turned toward the bedroom.

“Devon?”

She paused, afraid to turn around and look at him in case she totally lost it and charged across the room to jump him and lick him all over. “Yes?”

“Thanks for coming with me. It would’ve sucked being alone here tonight.”

She nodded, her throat tight. But he
was
going to be alone, alone on that couch, and she was going to be all alone in that big bed. “You’re welcome,” she managed to say, and then she scurried into the bedroom and closed the French doors behind her.

Breathing rapidly, heart fluttering in her chest, she paused there, hands over her mouth.

Oh man. She still wanted him. How wrong was that? Oh man.

“
Would you take her back?”
she’d asked Josh earlier of Allie. And he’d said, “
Maybe.”

The wedding may be off, but he still loved her.

She dropped her hands and lifted her chin. Okay. Okay. She’d done the right thing, to resist touching him. Kissing him. Sleeping with him. For a moment she’d been tempted to let down her guard, to reveal her feelings. Good thing she hadn’t. She could do this. She was there on Greenbush Island, just liked she’d wanted to be, with a beautiful hotel room to stay in at the very same inn where William Mudge was staying. She sort of needed Josh for that. But she didn’t need him for anything else. It was all good.

Josh woke up early with the sun hitting his face through the balcony doors. There was the trouble with an ocean-view room. He rolled his cramped body off the couch and slowly stood, lifting his arms over his head to stretch. Christ, he’d have been better off sleeping on the floor.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and wandered to the balcony doors to watch the sun lift above the horizon, casting its warm, golden glow. He leaned his head against the doorjamb for a moment, heaviness spreading through him as he recalled what had happened the day before.

It was all such a mess. Allie leaving with that jerk. Josh still questioned whether he should have tried harder to stop her. But hell, she’d called the guy the night before their wedding. To tell him she loved him! Or something like that. He wasn’t entirely clear on what had been said.

Worry gnawed at his insides. Maybe he
should
have asked Hayley to put out an APB or whatever the cops did when someone was abducted. But then he remembered the look on Allie’s face, the way she’d snuggled into Gavin’s arms. And he had to admit she hadn’t been resisting much. At all.

Fuck it, she’d gone with the guy willingly.

He watched a sailboat zip along the ocean, someone out for an early morning cruise, the sun illuminating the brightly colored sail and glinting off the surface of the ocean, which was the color and texture of polished bluestone marble. Beach grass rising up from the pale sand dunes waved in the morning breeze. It was so beautiful it almost hurt his eyes. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

He couldn’t help but worry about Allie, like he’d been worried about her for the last year, since her mom had died. Allie’s mom’s death had been hard for both their families.

He turned away from the window. He’d seen a coffeemaker on the desk in the room. He’d brew up some coffee and then maybe head out for a run. Running was always good stress relief, with the added bonus of keeping his cardiovascular system in shape.

As he poured water into the small coffeemaker, he eyed the closed bedroom doors, the floral-print curtains on the other side of the glass panes blocking his view of the bedroom where Devon lay sleeping.

He’d now been dumped by two women in the last year—Devon and Allie. What was wrong with him?

He must have lost his mind, coming here with Devon. But he’d really meant it when he’d thanked her for coming. Being alone sure as shit would have sucked donkey balls. It was nice having her there. Except having her there was also strangely…disturbing.

After she’d gone into the bedroom, he’d lain there in the dark, thoughts consumed not with his missing bride but with Devon sitting next to him on the couch, the feel of her all soft and warm, the sound of her laughter, her singular scent teasing him. That unforgettable scent of flowers and fruit—jasmine and mandarin and sweet sugar. He remembered braving the Sephora store to buy it for her, along with the expensive, scented body lotion, that store almost scarier to him than any fire he’d ever fought. That scent had immediately brought memories flooding back: hot, erotic memories of him burying his face in her hair, of him kissing his way down her naked body, of her long hair dragging across his belly when she did the same. His body had tightened into arousal and then the guilt had smacked him yet again, this time guilt over thinking of Devon on the night he should have been celebrating his marriage to Allie.

Jesus, no wonder he’d been stood up at the altar—he was such a pig.

He was pissed at Allie. Something was wrong with this picture. In his world things were black or white. Right or wrong. He always tried to do the right thing. He looked after the people he loved. He kept his promises. So yeah, he was pissed at her, pissed at her for calling her ex, pissed at her for thinking about her ex the night before their wedding, and then for breaking her promise to
him
and leaving with Gavin. He had a right to be pissed, dammit.

But he also had an uncomfortable feeling that he wasn’t much better than Allie, despite all his righteous indignation.

He changed into athletic shorts and a worn gray PHFD T-shirt, laced up his Nikes and, with one last glance at the bedroom door, headed out for a run. He crossed the lobby, still quiet this early in the morning. Outside, he paused on the wide veranda, this side of the building in shade, the morning air cool and fresh. Pots overflowing with greenery and flowers sat next to white wicker chairs on the wood floor. An older couple sat drinking coffee, and he watched as they leaned closer and smooched each other on the lips.

He turned away and jogged down the wide front steps, returning an hour later mildly out of breath, his heart nicely accelerated, sweat dripping from his forehead. He almost hated to walk through the lobby like that, but there was no other way to get to the room. He took the wide steps two at a time and strode down the hall, letting himself into the room with the key he’d tucked in the pocket in the waistband of his shorts.

Would Devon be awake? He hoped she was, because he wanted to tell her what he’d seen, what a gorgeous day it was, wanted to take her for breakfast…whoa.

His feet halted as he came face-to-face with a naked Devon emerging from the bathroom.

She stood there, then grabbed at the towel that had slipped off her breasts. Her mouth fell open and scarlet washed into her cheeks in a way that was damn cute. Her hair hung down her back, dripping wet, drops of water glistening on her smooth shoulders.

“Jeebus Crust!” she said. “You scared the crap out of me.”

He grinned. “Sorry.” He determinedly kept his gaze on her face. He wasn’t going to look. She had the towel in place now anyway, but wow, a glimpse of her perfect breasts had just made his day so much better.

“Where were you?” she demanded crossly, turning to go into the bedroom.

“I went for a run.” He held his arms out at his sides. “Can’t you tell? I gather you just had a shower, so it’s okay if I jump in there?”

“Go right ahead,” she mumbled. “I’ll get dressed.”

The bathroom smelled like her. Sweet-scented steam lingered in the air and fogged the mirror. He breathed it in, and goddamn if he didn’t get hard again. Well, the next best thing to a run for stress relief was a little hand action, and the shower was as good a place as any. He turned on the water and stepped under the spray. He let the water rain down on his face, eyes closed, let it wash away the sweat, then grabbed a tiny bottle of hotel shampoo and dumped some into his hand. He groaned, the drumming of the water hopefully drowning him out, closed his eyes again and let the feeling build, the pressure, the heat, the sizzle up his spine. Yeah. So good. So…damn…good. His body jerked and he made a guttural noise as he came, pleasure rushing through his veins.

He panted a little, still leaning against the wall, his body now lethargic, heart pounding all over again. Okay. That would take the edge off. Now he could face Devon without worrying about jumping her sexy bones.

Not that he was worried about that.

With a towel now wrapped around his hips, he emerged from the bathroom but came to a dead stop when he saw Devon standing there, dressed in a striped cotton skirt and a pink tank top, her hair and make-up done.

“Let’s go for breakfast,” she said. “I’m starving.”

“Ah. Sure. Okay if I get dressed?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, over those sweet breasts he’d gotten such a lovely glimpse of, and frowned at him. “No, just wear the towel.” She rolled her eyes. “Just hurry.”

“What’s the rush—” His cell phone chimed. He looked over where he’d plugged it in to charge, sitting on the desk. Not a call this time, a text message. Not likely from his mom, who barely knew how to operate her cell phone, never mind send a text. He crossed the room, picked up the phone and peered at the screen. Reread the message. “Oh for Chrissakes, what now?”

“What is it?” Now Devon met his eyes, hers full of concern.

“It is my mom again,” he said, shaking his head. “She says Greta has disappeared.”

Chapter Seven

Devon gaped at him. “Greta? Disappeared?”

“Good god,” he muttered. “I better call her back this time.”

“Um. Yeah.” But cripes, he was still naked with only a white hotel towel fastened around his hips, so low she could see his obliques angling toward his groin, a faint trail of hair leading down from his navel, widening just above the edge of the towel, making her gulp. Her gaze tracked back up over cut abs and powerful pecs, the dusting of dark hair between flat brown nipples. Oh holy cheese and crackers, he was so incredibly masculine and gorgeous. As he punched in the number, he turned his back, which was equally spectacular, all those little muscles and the ridges of his back narrowing down from wide shoulders to his tight ass outlined by the towel. She couldn’t help it. She sighed with the pleasure of just looking at him.

“I can’t believe she figured out how to send a text,” he muttered. “Mom. Hi. What’s going on?”

Devon listened to his side of the conversation, trying to fill in the blanks.

“What do you mean disappeared? When? I’m sure she’s fine. She’s a grown woman… Yeah, but…” A longer pause. Then… “
What?
Are you serious?” Now a really long pause while he listened to his mom. Devon sat up a little straighter. What was going on? “Oh for fu— I can’t believe that. When did this happen? And she didn’t even say anything?”

Devon bit her lip.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Mom, but I’ll come home…” He listened again. His face tightened. Another pause. “Are you sure? Because I can be there in… What? Really? Is he okay?” More listening. “I know, I know. I’m worried too.” He closed his eyes. “How about I try to get hold of Greta? Well, maybe there’s a reason… No, I don’t mean she’s ignoring you. I have no idea. Either she’ll call you or I’ll call you back. In a while. I don’t know. Okay, bye.” He punched the button to end the call and met Devon’s eyes. “Jesus,” he muttered. “What the fuck is Greta doing now?”

He returned to sit on the couch again, seeming not to care that he was mostly nude. Devon licked her lips and tried not to look where the towel covered his lap.

“What’s going on?”

“Well. Greta disappeared last night after the wedding. Ah…that’s why Mom was calling me. When she couldn’t get hold of me, she called Ryan.” Devon nodded at the mention of Greta’s husband. “He told her they split up.”

“Holy fishsticks. Really?”

“That’s what he said.” Josh shrugged. “Greta never said anything to either of us. Good god. What is going on in the world right now?” He tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling. “I should go back. Mom’s all in a panic about Greta, but she said not to come back. She’s got Owen helping her find Greta.”

“Allie’s dad?”

“Yeah.” A frown briefly creased his forehead. “And here I was thinking Greta was there for her, but instead Greta’s disappeared too. Goddammit.” He shook his head. “And now I’m worried about her too. And Jesus, Owen has problems of his own. Oh man.”

“Didn’t you tell your mom you were going to call Greta?”

“Oh yeah.” He poked at the little buttons on the phone and held it to his ear. “No answer.” His forehead creased and his mouth tightened. “Shit. What if something did happen to her?”

“Try a text message. In case she’s screening.”

With a roll of his eyes, he thumbed in a message and hit send. He stared at the phone. Devon reached over and gently took it out of his hands. “She might not answer right away,” she said softly. “Go get dressed. I’ll answer if she calls.”

He met her eyes, his thick eyebrows slanted down. He hadn’t shaved and his beard was even darker now on his lean cheeks, jaw and upper lip. It was a very sexy look on him. Along with the nudity. But the worry on his face made her want to reach out and lay a palm on his cheek and try to comfort him.