“Saturday, dude. You. Me. And the waves at Seascape Beach,” Shane Sullivan said. “We haven’t surfed together in forever.”
“Appreciate the offer, but I can’t.” The tide at Seascape was fierce, and he hoped Shane didn’t see him shiver. He fisted his hands at his sides and wished like hell the thought of water didn’t scare the shit out of him.
“Wedding crap?” Shane raised his eyebrows and his forehead creased in sympathy.
Thankful for the excuse, Luke nodded. “And I’m enlisting your sorry ass to help me with the bachelor party on Saturday night.”
Shane’s expression brightened. “Booze and babes, my friend. That’s all we need.”
Luke could get on board with that. He leaned back against the leather booth and flexed his fingers. Those two
B
words sounded like the perfect prescription to help chase away the pity party he had going on with himself.
But then an RN in light blue scrubs with eyes that sparkled like shiny new pennies and a mouth that begged to be kissed flashed in his mind.
What the hell had he been thinking when he told Sela about his accident? He hadn’t been able to ignore her—hadn’t been able to stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth easier than he’d thought they would. Warmth and compassion radiated off her in waves and they’d hijacked his resolve.
“Can I get you boys anything else?” the waitress said, bumping her hip against the table. Her gaze fell on Shane.
“That depends. Are you on the menu?” Shane asked.
Luke rolled his eyes. Shane worked fifty-hour weeks as a project engineer, but when it came to women, he’d never had to try very hard. Probably because of his one-liners.
The waitress, a pretty blonde wearing a white shirt, short pleated skirt, and black-rimmed eyeglasses, laughed. “If I was, what would you do with me?”
Shane leaned forward and pulled the pen from behind her ear. Then he took her hand, turned it palm up, and wrote something. “If you really want to find out, call me and I’ll go over the details with you.”
She laughed again, like she had no intention of calling him, and said, “I’ll be right back with your check.”
“I’m a sucker for the sexy schoolgirl look.” Shane smirked and put his hands behind his head. “So bachelor party. I’m pretty sure Sela told me the girls are going out Saturday night, too.”
“Oh?” A spike of interest had him sitting taller in the booth. Would booze and babes apply to them as well? And why did that bother him?
“Yeah. They’re headed to a new Moroccan restaurant for dinner and then bar hopping.” Shane put his elbows on the table and lowered his voice. “I was at Sela’s the other day and saw a few of the things she bought. You think we have dirty minds? She is going to embarrass the hell out of Vanessa.”
“Sela?” He couldn’t imagine her doing anything too crazy. In high school she’d mostly had her nose in a book, and when she did take part in the action, it was only from the sidelines. He’d often sneak peeks at her, though, curious about what she’d do if he hauled her away from her safety zone.
“My sister isn’t as innocent as you think.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “No?”
“On second thought, don’t think about that.” Shane squinted. “You’re thinking about that. Dude. She’s my little sister.”
Right. She was off-limits. And since when did he think about her
that
way?
“And you called her corpse lips or something like that,” Shane added with a wry smile.
Luke inwardly groaned. He hadn’t thought about that day in almost ten years and now twice in the past two days, he’d been reminded of his juvenile behavior. And his shame. He regretted the way he’d treated her more than any other indiscretion in high school. But when a guy is taken completely by surprise—by his best friend’s little sister of all people—he says and does shit to protect himself.
“You remember stuff like that, but not the name of that place up north I called and asked you about last month?” Luke wanted to give Vanessa and Hayden a weekend getaway to a bed and breakfast in Washington as a wedding present. Shane had taken a girl there last summer and raved about it, but then couldn’t recall the name. Luke doubted he remembered the name of the girl, either.
Shane shrugged. The waitress dropped their check on the table. “Have a good night,” she said. Then she tilted her head in Luke’s direction, looked him straight in the eyes, and added, “You be sure to come back and visit sometime.”
He cracked up. The invitation was obviously to get Shane’s goat, and it did. The muscles in his friend’s jaw ticked. Shane threw money down on the table, enough to let the waitress know he didn’t take her slight personally. Luke matched it, and they both stood.
“I’ll see you this weekend,” Shane said.
“Looking forward to it.” Luke slapped him on the back and they headed to their cars.
An hour later, because he’d decided to take a few detours around Cascade to see if anything had changed, he parked and took the walkway up to his parents’ house. He welcomed the chill in the air, the smell of brine and earth and honeysuckle. The scent lured him around the house and onto the dirt pathway leading to the beach.
His whole life, he’d stepped along this narrow divide between shrubs that bloomed flowers all year round. When he was little, he’d dragged his dump trucks. As he got older, he brought his boogie board, then surfboard. And not long after that, girls, whose soft hands slipped into his rough one and who seemed eager to follow him wherever he might lead.
The moment he set foot in the wide expanse of sand softer than sugar, he took off his shoes to feel as well as remember his youth. No other beach he’d visited—and there had been dozens—matched this one.
A vision of a girl in a white sundress, the bodice tight, the skirt long and flowing, the sun setting behind her, danced in his mind.
Sela
…at a family party his parents threw a few weeks after graduation. He hadn’t talked to her the rest of his senior year, both of them keeping their distance. And he hadn’t talked to her that night, either. Over the summer he’d had glimpses of her with his sisters, but she’d never noticed him.
His breath hitched, his memories of then tangling with his memory of today. Today he’d
talked
to Sela and shared something he swore not to tell anyone outside of work. Was it because she was a nurse? He didn’t think so. Something about her reached right inside him and plucked out the details, the genuine layers beyond the superficial. She was present—rooted in the moment with him—not thinking about anything else. And people didn’t do that anymore. They multitasked, even when speaking with someone, their mind racing ahead to the next thing.
But Sela listened, her interest in him earnest, and he knew he could trust her. She hadn’t needed to say it.
The sand beneath his feet turned hard and wet. He’d reached the surf…and reached a decision. Sela hadn’t crossed his mind in years, but since Sunday she’d taken up space in his head and he wanted to apologize for how he’d treated her all those years ago. He owed her that.
Keeping his distance afterward should be easy. Hell, the last thing he wanted was her playing nurse now that he’d acted like a girl and practically cried on her shoulder. “Pansy,” he muttered. If he could kick his own ass, he would.
No more, though. No more sharing crap. He’d take all the pre-wedding and wedding pictures Vanessa wanted, focus on healing his body, and the day after the wedding return to his life.
Chapter Three
Worst hump day ever.
First, Sela’s alarm clock had forgotten to set itself and she arrived at work twenty minutes late. Late equaled a lecture from her supervisor. Second, on the way to Vanessa’s house, she’d run out of gas. Shane had told her weeks ago to get the gauge checked after he’d come to help her when she’d gotten stuck on the side of the road. She’d nodded and added it to her list of things to do ATW—after the wedding.
Her car currently resided in a no-parking zone on White Sails Road. But because she didn’t want to be late, she decided to take her chances and hope she didn’t get a ticket. Her thumb had hitched her a ride to Vanessa’s, an action she still had no plans to share. If anyone knew she’d hitchhiked rather than called for help, she’d get another lecture, and one a day was plenty. It didn’t matter that they lived in Cascade, the safest town in Oregon, and that sweet, gray-haired Matilda Witt—Tildie to her pals—had been her Good Samaritan. The
chance
that a psycho stranger passing through could have picked her up was all anyone would focus on.
Now here she was, standing in the Watterses’ kitchen in her scrubs because she hadn’t had time to go home and change.
Oh, and she smelled like hand sanitizer times twenty.
“Check it out,” Vanessa’s younger sister Erin said. She slapped down a yellowed piece of paper with greasy splotches on it.
Next to Erin and her wavy, shoulder-length brown hair, bright blue eyes, and bronze cashmere sweater dress, Sela felt like Cinderella eons before the ball.
She lifted her elbows off the granite countertop, but the rest of her weary body continued to lean against it. She picked up the paper and smiled as she read the recipe. “You found it.”
“Finally.” Erin bounced up and down. “We are
absolutely
going to win this year.”
“
You’re
going to win,” Sela corrected. “I’m just the sidekick.” When Judge Brewer’s granddaughter—and Erin’s nemesis since middle school—Candace “Candy” Brewer got bored and started “The Chocolate Games” two years ago and told Erin she had about as good a chance of winning as Erin’s cat, Rover, had of actually barking, Erin had taken the challenge and vowed to win the online baking competition.
The past two attempts hadn’t worked out very well.
So Sela told her she’d help out this year. What was one more thing on her already full May plate?
Sela scooted around the kitchen island and plopped onto a stool. Erin took the spot next to her and said, “We’ve got a week to get it in.”
“Get what in?” Luke asked, strolling into the kitchen and giving a quick tug on his sister’s hair.
Erin swiped her arm at him, catching his shoulder. “Would you quit doing that? It drives me up the wall.”
Luke pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, ignoring his twenty-three-year-old sister, and then stood across the counter. His sweaty T-shirt clung to his broad chest; his face was just shy of pink.
Sela’s first instinct was to ask if he was okay before she caught herself. He’d obviously been running, and she shouldn’t care that just yesterday he’d said he was short of breath. “You do know we have a dance lesson in a few minutes?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Worried I’ve worn myself out?”
“Worried I’ll be your partner and you stink.”
“I think you’ve got us both covered.” He took note of her frown. “It is you that smells like liquid sanitizer, isn’t it?” he teased.
She dropped her head into her hand. “Go away.”
“Do not pick on Sela, Luke,” Erin said. “I need her, and if you scare her away, I swear to God, I’ll put a snake in your bed.”
He laughed, but Sela heard traces of discomfort. “They don’t bother me anymore.”
“Bullshit,” Erin said.
Luke quirked up one side of his mouth, possibly in challenge. It was hard to tell for sure, since she’d angled her head to count the crumbs on the countertop.
“So what are you two getting into?” Luke downed the rest of his water, then tossed the bottle over his head where it landed for three points in the recycle bin.
“The Chocolate Games,” Erin said.
“What is that?”
“If you were home more often, you’d know,” Paula chimed in, entering the kitchen and grabbing two coffee carafes near the stove. “Ten minutes until groove time,” she tossed over her shoulder as she danced out of the room.
“It’s an annual Memorial Day chocolate competition,” Erin said, wiping her hand on the counter like there was a smudge. “Best chocolate recipe wins. It’s done online on Cascade’s blog.”
“Cascade has a blog?”
“Yes. The city council manages it and lots of different people post. For the last week in May, Candy Brewer has the lead column for her Chocolate Games and posts all the entries with a picture of the finished product. The town votes for the top five finalists. Those chosen make their recipe for a panel of judges to taste and then they pick a winner.”
“This is your recipe?” Luke picked up the piece of paper at the exact same time Sela put her arm down, and their hands brushed.
Tingles raced up her arm. Her eyes met Luke’s and for a beat she’d swear time forgot to tick.
He looked at her quizzically before dropping his gaze. Sela watched him read the recipe, wondering what the heck he was thinking. And
feeling
. She hadn’t imagined the electric shock, had she? Or worse, been the only one to feel it?
“Ditch the marshmallow,” he said, handing the paper to Erin.
“What?” Erin examined the recipe like she’d missed something very important.
“Add bacon instead.” A wry smile took hold of his mouth and he twisted his torso, his arms up, elbows out.
The movement pulled his shirt tight across his chest and back, and defined muscles introduced themselves. Sela’s mouth went dry. New tingles erupted, this time in places they had no business being. She couldn’t pull her gaze away.
He cleared his throat.
She plucked the recipe out of Erin’s hands. “Since when do you know anything about baking?” She reread the ingredients and reminded herself how much she loved Erin, not Luke.
“I don’t. But if you substitute bacon, you’ll win.”
“Chocolate and bacon?” Erin shook her head. “That just sounds wrong.”
Or very right
, Sela thought. If they combined the two—arguably man’s and woman’s favorite foods, respectively—they might create something orgasmic. The tastes and scents were a pretty deadly combination.
“Chocolate-Chocolate Chip Bacon Bars” did sound much more interesting than “Chocolate-Chocolate Chip Marshmallow Bars.”
But she said, “I don’t know.” Mostly because if they decided to try it she didn’t want Luke to have the satisfaction of knowing it had been his idea.
“Don’t know what?” he asked. “That bacon makes everything taste better?”
“That’s not true.” Sela tucked the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear.
Luke crossed his arms. “You want to bet?”
Sela huffed and waved him off. “Don’t you need to take a shower or something?”
He leaned forward on the counter, arms stretched in front of him, and looked right at her. “Bacon even tastes good in the shower.”
“Unbelievable,” Erin said. “What is it with men and bacon?”
Sela didn’t so much as blink. “It makes guys that brag about it feel more masculine.”
Luke tossed his head back and laughed. He had a deep, sexy laugh and Sela found herself trying very hard not to smile. She turned to Erin and whispered, “Have you ever tried the two together?”
Erin shook her head. “But what have we got to lose? It sounds interesting. We could at least try it that way first.”
“Let me know when you’ve made them and I’ll take the picture for you.” Luke headed out of the kitchen, one hand rubbing his side, a small frown on his face.
“That would be great. Thanks, bro.”
Sela gripped the edge of the counter. Luke was only supposed to take photos having to do with the wedding. Just because they’d been nice to each other at the hospital didn’t mean they should spend any more time together than necessary. She couldn’t trust herself around him. And what if someone else noticed?
He had some nerve, she decided, confiding in her of all people about his accident. The reason she hadn’t gotten to sleep until two a.m. last night? Visions of the two of them playing doctor. Only he wasn’t in any pain whatsoever.
This physical reaction to him set her teeth on edge.
Cut yourself some slack
,
Sela
. Any woman who looked at Luke would think he was hot.
“Come on, let’s get ready to rumba,” Erin said, thankfully oblivious to the fact that the last thing she wanted to do was dance with Luke Watters.
Was there such a thing as a runaway maid of honor?
Not that she’d ever do it. Vanessa meant too much to her. The entire Watters family did—minus the six-foot bacon lover. She followed Erin into the living room and mentally kicked herself for giving Luke so much thought.
Fifteen minutes later the wedding party stood in two lines down the center of the living room, guys on one side, girls on the other. The furniture had been pushed aside, the Oriental rug rolled up, the hardwood floor their canvas.
The dance teacher demonstrated the steps for the rumba one more time. The “one-two-three-four” kept replaying in Sela’s head even when her feet were still and she should be listening to instructions. The counting helped keep her mind off her biggest obstacle—Luke.
He smelled shower fresh, looked All-American handsome with his clean-shaven face, and moved much more gracefully than she’d expected. Sure, they’d stumbled a few times, but he’d righted them with ease, his strong hands gentle and sure. She thought back to the Kissing Booth and his humiliating words to remind herself he wasn’t always nice. But staring at him now, his eyes warm, his hold tender, it was getting harder and harder to use that excuse to keep her distance.
…
Luke didn’t see the point of learning choreographed dance steps, but it made his sister happy, her smile and laugh contagious, and he found himself enjoying even his missteps.
His partner didn’t hurt matters, either. Paired with the beautiful maid of honor, he gave silent thanks for his new role as best man. If he’d had to watch Sela dance with someone else, he might have gone insane.
A disconcerting thought he decided not to examine too closely.
“Remember, the basic step is one of the most beautiful of the rumba. So if nothing else, stick to it, and the dance floor will be yours,” the instructor said.
Luke peeked at Sela out of the corner of his eye. The slight imperfections in her profile made it the most fascinating he’d seen. With his photographer’s eye he imagined shooting her face from different angles and in different lighting and had a feeling every single one would spark beauty to a thousand different beholders. She might be a girl from his hometown, but there was something about her that was worldly.
She turned her head, catching him in the act of staring. He darted his attention away.
“Now let’s step into the closed position once again and begin,” the teacher said.
He brought Sela a hairbreadth away and looked down. Under thick, long eyelashes, she met his gaze and away they went.
At first they moved rigidly, fighting the natural rhythm of their bodies like they still needed to battle to keep things normal. But as the music continued, their moves melted into a fluid sway of hips and torsos and Luke couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. He forgot to keep count in his head, their bodies moving naturally as one. The lines creasing Sela’s forehead in concentration vanished, her features softened, and her body relaxed as she followed his lead.
“Close your eyes and feel the movement. Let the music guide you,” the teacher said softly as she wove around the dance floor.
Luke waited for Sela to shut her eyes. Christ, she was pretty. The woman made scrubs look sexy. But it was what she had on the inside that suddenly made his mouth drier than the Sahara Desert.
She didn’t only care deeply for Vanessa; she cared about Erin, too. Hell, she looked out for his family more than he did. And his family loved her for it. He saw it on their faces every time one of his sisters or parents looked at her. Which was why he needed to stop thinking about her in any way other than Shane’s little sister.
Her eyes fluttered open. “You can wipe that smug look off your face. You’re not that good of a dancer.”
“No?” Without missing a beat, he spun them around, their steps in perfect tandem. An invisible string kept them in harmony. The flush of Sela’s cheeks kept energy humming through his veins. Her enchanting complexion spurred his stamina to new heights, and he didn’t want the music to end.
Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, and Luke imagined she’d much rather have a sword in her hand so they could fence instead of move with each other.
“You know what they say about show-offs, don’t you?” she said.
“Tell me.” He twirled them away from the others, his fingertips increasing the pressure on her shoulder blade.
“They’re compensating for something else. Usually something small.” Her gaze dipped below his waist as they both stepped back.
He laughed, a little more carefully than he had in the kitchen. For the second time in the last hour she’d done what few women could—raise his hackles in the most engaging way. But this bolder Sela had no idea who she was messing with. He slowed their tempo and very deliberately rotated his hips with unhurried confidence.
“Sweetheart, there’s nothing small about me,” he whispered when they came together. “And if you need proof, I’d be happy to show you.”
Sela’s eyes widened and she took a wrong step, breaking their perfect cadence. He kept hold of her and quickly got them back on track.
Ball in your court
, he thought with a smile. Damn, the rumba was fun.
“I’ll grab my magnifying glass.” Her grin lifted to one side.