Summer Fling (8 page)

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Authors: Serenity Woods

BOOK: Summer Fling
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“I didn’t know you were coming to the
party.”

She turned, surprised to see the smiling
face of Nick Stewart. Wearing scruffy shorts and a bright flowery shirt, he
looked boyishly handsome.

“Oh, hi,” she said. “Likewise. How are
you?”

He shrugged. “Okay. Hey look, I just wanted
to say again, I’m really sorry about the interview.”

“That’s okay, I do understand, although I’m
very sad for you.”

“Yeah. It’s the end of an era.” He picked
at the label of the beer bottle he carried and stared out to sea. “It’s been a
terrible year, what with one thing and another. The whole thing about the shop
has been the icing on the cake.”

Chloe wondered what he meant by “one thing
and another”. As if your business going under wasn’t bad enough. “Have you had any
offers on the shop?”

“Nah. Don’t expect any either.”

The temptation to tell him about her plan
made her bite her lip to stop herself blurting it out. She needed more time to
finalize the details, and she didn’t want to raise his hopes until she was certain
she could access the funds. The poor guy looked as if he’d had enough trauma
lately without her adding to it.

“Cool place, eh?” He looked up at the beach
house.

“Lovely. And what a view.”

“Yeah. Imagine waking up to that every
morning.”

She glanced at him, startled to see him
smiling at her. She blinked. Had he meant his comment to be as suggestive as it
sounded?

“You look beautiful today,” he said. “That
color suits you.”

The angel on her shoulder said,
Ooh.
He’s interested in you.

Flustered, she looked away. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He cleared his throat.
“Are you seeing anyone, Chloe?”

Hey, at least he’s sane,
the angel said.

Still, she hesitated. Was she interested in
dating him? His gentle gaze caressed her, and she imagined what it would be like
to kiss him. Would he fire her up like…Garth? She frowned. She couldn’t compare
every man she met to the jump instructor. Yes, she found his height and
strength more attractive, but she shouldn’t pay him any heed.

Didn’t you come here to see him though?
the devil asked.

“Um…” She pressed her lips together. “I’m
single at the moment.”

Nick nodded. His green gaze rested on her
mouth, and he moved toward her. Was he going to kiss her? Alarmed, she stepped
back and stumbled in the soft sand, lost her balance and gasped.

Before she could tumble to the ground, someone
wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up hard against a familiar, firm
chest.

“Caught you,” said her rescuer, and she
didn’t have to turn to see who it was. She’d recognize that subtle sandalwood aftershave
anywhere.

Chapter Eleven

Garth held Chloe tightly as she steadied
herself. Her heart thumped beneath his hand where it rested on her ribcage.
When she regained her balance, he loosened his grip but kept his hand on her
hip.

“Oops.” She smoothed her dress. “Sorry.”

“No worries.”

She looked over her shoulder at him,
meeting his gaze, and he lifted his sunglasses onto the top of his head. The
straw hat shaded her eyes, but they shone with surprise and pleasure. “Hi,” she
said, and as usual, her cheeks flushed.

“Hi.” He smiled. Her tiny cotton dress
showed her fantastic legs and clung to her curvy figure. If he’d had any doubts
about wanting her in his bed before, the way she looked now completely blew
them away.

She tore her gaze from his. “Oh, this is
Nick Stewart. He owns Cocoa Heaven, the chocolate shop in town.”

Garth kept his features carefully blank,
although his heart hammered.

He knew what Stewart looked like. After
Jess’s death, he’d done vast research into the man who’d been driving the car,
and he’d had Stewart under surveillance ever since. He knew what the man did
from the moment he got up until he went to bed. Where he lived, where he
worked, his friends, what he had in his life that he considered special. He’d
researched the history of Cocoa Heaven and discovered the family history behind
the business. And he knew the dire state of Stewart’s finances. When you had
money, it was amazing who talked.

But this was the first time he’d met the
man. He hadn’t known Nick would be at the party, and when he’d spotted him
talking to Chloe, for a moment he’d bristled like the Incredible Hulk. He
hadn’t quite split his pants or turned green, but rage had burned within him
and he’d clenched his fists. Still, he knew an opportunity when he saw one.
He’d been planning to fake a chance meeting with the guy over the next week or
two, so he might as well make it now.

He cursed, though, that it had to happen
with Chloe present. He’d wondered briefly whether he should just turn around
and leave before she’d seen him. He didn’t want her involved at all with his
other life, plus he hadn’t had time to prepare himself for meeting Stewart, and
his stomach roiled like an ocean in a storm.

Then he’d seen the way Stewart was looking
at her, and there was no decision to make. Stewart would make a move on Chloe
Jackson over his dead body.

“Hi.” He held out his hand. “Garth
Rowland.”

“Hello.” Stewart shook it. “Good to meet
you.”

“Likewise.”

“Garth owns Sky High,” Chloe said. “He
jumps out of planes for a living.”

Stewart raised his eyebrows. “Oh? That’s
pretty crazy.”

“Yeah, well, keeps me busy.” He kept his
voice carefully neutral, but even so, Chloe glanced up at him, frowning as if
she’d picked up an undercurrent beneath his words. She didn’t say anything,
though.

 Stewart ran his gaze down Garth, sizing
him up. Garth did the same. He topped Stewart by several inches. He resisted a
smug smile at the thought that his powerful chest and muscular arms made the
other man look positively scrawny.

Nick looked pointedly at Garth’s hand on Chloe’s
hip. “Are you two an item?”

Chloe blushed and pushed his hand away.
“God, no. I barely know the man.”

“Oh, come on,” Garth said easily, “I wore
the parachute. You could say I saved your life. That must mean we’re more than
strangers.”

Her lips twitched. “Practically engaged.”

He laughed.

Nick looked down at Garth’s empty hands.
“You want a beer?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Nick nodded and walked off.

Garth’s gaze lingered on him for a second.
His heart thundered and he bit back a swell of nausea. The man had ruined his
life. He felt not an inch of guilt about what he had organized for the bastard.

“So.” Chloe drew his gaze back to her. “What’s
going on? You know him, right?”

Astute little madam. He slid his dark
glasses down over his eyes. “I’ve never met him.”

She narrowed hers. “Hmm. What aren’t you
telling me?”

He decided diversion was the best tactic. “Have
you recovered from your jump yet?”

She hesitated as if wondering whether to
press the matter, then appeared to give in. “Just. Took me a while to come down
from that high. I don’t know how you do it several times a day.”

He glanced up at the cloudless sky,
following a seagull as it soared and dipped above their heads. “It reminds me
I’m alive.” For a brief moment, the image of the cell flashed through his mind.
His stomach clenched with familiar panic, and he forced himself to concentrate
on the bright sky. The color of Chloe’s eyes.

As the panic faded, he looked back at her.
“Like you,” he said absently. “You make me feel free.”

A frown flickered on her brow, and to his
surprise, she reached up a hand and touched his face. He caught his breath at
the pity in her eyes. She’d glimpsed the darkness inside him, and she
understood.

He froze, waiting for her to pull back, but
she didn’t. The scene around them faded, and he could only think about Chloe
and how he wanted to lose himself in her.

He moved closer to her in the sand. Her
lips parted, but she still didn’t move. Nor did she step back as she had with
Stewart.

Slipping a hand to cup the back of her head,
he kissed her.

Her lips were soft and slightly sticky from
the lip balm she must have applied as sunblock before coming outside. As he
moved his lips across hers, they peeled apart in such an erotic way that he
hardened immediately. He groaned and slid his other arm around her waist to
kiss her again.

Chloe inhaled, and he took the opportunity
of her open mouth to slide his tongue against hers as he tightened his grip and
pulled her against him. The lip balm tasted of cherries, and she smelled of sun
cream and hot summer under the stronger beach aromas surrounding them of
barbecue and salty sea. She put her arms around him and melted into his embrace,
and desire swept through him from his toes to the roots of his hair.

He kissed her, demanding and yet tender at
the same time, fighting the urge to possess her, to dominate, and not quite
succeeding. Sliding his hand to the small of her back, he pressed her against
him, wanting her to know how much she affected him, and how much he desired her.
Would she pull away?

But she didn’t. She moaned deep in her
throat and pushed her hips forward, holding his face as she met each thrust of
his tongue with one of her own. His heart thundered and blood surged around his
body, centering in his groin. He wanted her—God, how he wanted her.

Then he remembered they were on the beach
in full view of everyone. What was he doing grabbing her like this in public? He
released her, and she stumbled back, pressing fingers to her lips and looking up
at him with wide, startled eyes.

They stared at each other, the sand almost
turning to glass from the heat that radiated between their bodies.

Only when she glanced to her left and
dropped her hand to reveal her mouth in an O of surprise did he turn to see
Stewart watching them, a beer in each hand, his face full of dismay and
unfiltered anger.

Chapter Twelve

Chloe’s head spun and her heart continued
to hammer from the kiss. The look on Nick’s face confirmed his interest in her.
Jealousy, pure and simple, carved his features.

She glanced from Nick to Garth, surprised
and unsettled to see a small smile on Garth’s face as he noted Nick’s glare. He’d
told her he’d never met Nick, but she’d definitely glimpsed a hint of emotion
in his face when she’d introduced them. Had Garth been aware of Nick’s presence
when he kissed her? She narrowed her eyes. Was that
why
he’d kissed her?

She walked past them toward the house,
irritated and more than a little hurt. She was not going to be the ammunition
that Garth used to get back at Nick for something. He didn’t want to tell her
how he knew Nick? Fine. That was his prerogative. But that didn’t give him the
right to treat her as if she were a piece of rock he could pick up and hurl in
Nick’s direction.

She entered the house and paused inside,
shaking from both anger and the remnants of the desire that had raged through
her when he kissed her. She should have slapped his face. That would have shown
him.

“Are you okay?”

She jumped as Garth came in the door,
unaware he’d followed her up the path. “Go away.”

“I’m sorry.” He raised his glasses onto the
top of his head. His eyes shone with sincerity. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I
couldn’t help it, though. You looked beautiful standing there with the sun in
your hair, in that sexy dress.”

Good Lord. How could she berate the man
when he gave her such an unexpected compliment? She shook her head as he
smiled, refusing to fall for it.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” She took a step
back from the door, wanting to put some distance between them. If she got too
near to his tanned arms with the scattering of light brown hair, she’d touch
him. “You smirked at Nick. You only kissed me because you knew it would annoy
him.”

“I really didn’t,” he said, amused. “I
didn’t even see him there until afterward.”

She lifted her chin. “So why did you kiss
me then?”

Immediately she realized her mistake as his
smile grew wider and a naughty twinkle appeared in his eyes. “Isn’t it
obvious?”

Ooh!
squealed the devil.
Yummy
.

She glared at Garth. “Don’t tease me. I’m
not your sort of girl. I told you, I’m not like you. I’m not looking for a
cheap thrill, for a brief distraction. I’m sensible, practical, and cautious.”

And dull,
the devil yawned.

“I’m not dull,” she protested.

“I know.” Garth’s gaze rested on her lips.
“Your kisses certainly aren’t boring, anyway.”

“Kiss, singular,” she corrected him. “The
first time was a peck when you tried to distract me. It was hardly a passionate
smacker.”

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