“I’m not doing it at all,” she grumbled.
“You’re too incredible to be off the market forever, and you’re not getting any younger.” He tickled her ribs with the tease.
“Hey!”
“Just sayin’. I’m not getting any younger either, so we have to move on this before age takes its toll and I get a beer gut and lose this amazing body.”
She laughed.
“Anyway, I’ve got this friend, and I can vouch for him. He’s handsome, smart, and funny. He’ll treat you like a lady.”
A breeze swept off the water, and she leaned into him, stealing his warmth. “You don’t seriously want to set me up with a guy.”
“Not just any guy. Like I said, he’s almost as good as me, but not quite as handsome.”
“Then why would I go out with him?” she teased as a wave crashed, sending water rushing toward them. Gavin lifted her off her feet, carrying her quickly away from the water.
“Because you need the practice, and I trust him.” He set her toes in the sand, pulling her close again as they walked down the beach.
With the wind at their backs, the scents of the sea and Gavin filled her with happiness. “I missed being here more than I realized.”
“Aren’t California beaches supposed to be better?”
“They’re not. I’m not sure any place is better than here. I love the cold Cape wind at night and the way people dress comfortably instead of impressively. There’s a sense of comfort living where I grew up.”
They must have been gone a long time, because their friends were no longer on the beach and they’d put out the bonfire. Bayside Resort came into view on the dunes, alongside the Summer House Inn, which her friends Desiree and Violet owned. She missed them, too, and she missed seeing everyone at the breakfasts Desiree and Violet hosted for all their friends. Drake and the guys from Bayside jogged together in the mornings and then joined the girls at the inn for breakfast.
As they headed up the path toward the parking lot of the resort, Gavin said, “We’re going to work on your writing, too.”
“Too implies we’re working on something else.”
He pulled her closer and said, “Don’t fight it, Harp. We’re going to make sure your instincts work, your writing gets back on track, and you stop lying to the people who love you.”
His low, confident voice sent a shiver of heat down her spine. It had been a long time since that had happened. Since they were last together, to be exact.
“What makes you think you can help me fix any of that?” she asked as they reached the top of the dunes and headed across the lawn to the parking lot.
“Because I’m an excellent guide. Think about it. We nailed your first one-night stand, didn’t we? This should be a piece of cake.”
“We did not nail it as far as no-strings goes, though.” She dug in her purse for her keys.
“We did too damn good of a job. If you’d just slipped up and given me your real name, or said you were a screenwriter or that you’d just moved to LA, maybe I could have connected the dots and found you sooner. We’ve wasted a lot of time.”
He took the keys from her hand and opened her car door. He dangled the keys with a cocky grin that made her insides hot. She wished she had told him those things, but she’d listened to Colton and kept her personal information to herself. Well, other than the note in his suitcase, which hadn’t done her any good anyway.
“We’ve got this, Harp. Now, what’s your address?”
She reached for the keys, and he lifted them out of her reach. “Gavin…”
“I told you I’m a patient guy. I can stand here all night long, or you can give me your address.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of a pain?”
“I can’t think of anyone who hasn’t.”
“I need time to figure out my life, not dates with men I don’t care about,” she said, not having any idea what she really needed. But having a friend like Gavin seemed like a good start.
He set the keys in her hand and settled his hand on her hip. Her body flamed as he leaned in, as if to kiss her. Somewhere in her head warning bells were going off, but she closed her eyes. Her lips parted in anticipation of the kiss she’d thought about for too long.
“Your address, Harper?” he whispered over her lips.
As if he’d unblocked a damn, her address rushed out.
“He’ll be there at seven.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. His hand slipped off her hip, and the air around her chilled as he stepped back and said, “Have fun tomorrow night.”
She stood with her mouth agape for the third time that night, which was three times too many. Gavin waved and headed for his car.
“I’m not going!” she called after him.
“That’s your prerogative, beautiful.” He pushed a button on his key fob and his headlights flashed. “But I’m a kick-ass friend, so I’m still setting it up.”
Chapter Three
“THAT SOUNDS PERFECT,” Gavin said into the phone Friday afternoon when Serena came through the doors of Mallery and Wheeler Interior Design.
She plunked her messenger bag down on her desk, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floors. Gavin pointed to the samples he’d laid out earlier for a new boutique they were designing for Ocean Edge Resort, the largest luxury resort on the Cape. Serena gave him a thumbs-up and went to review them as he finished his call and confirmed his appointment for the following week.
When he ended the call, he said, “How’d the pitch go?”
Serena had pitched their services to the owners of the Wharf, a restaurant in Orleans. They had been referred through Jared Stone, who was one of their most prominent clients. They’d handled the interior design of a restaurant in Provincetown for Jared over the winter.
“Do you even have to ask?” She carried over a ring of fabric samples and sat on the edge of his desk. “I’ll put the contract together next week and get it over to their legal team. Once it’s signed, we’ll figure out the best time for our initial design meeting. I’ll check your online calendar before I schedule anything.”
“Sounds good. I just confirmed the Ocean Edge meeting for Tuesday with Mia. I’ll get it on the calendar.” Mia Stone was Jared’s sister, though Gavin had only recently learned they were related. Mia was the assistant to world-renowned fashion designers Josh and Riley Braden, whose main offices were in Manhattan. They were opening a new boutique at the resort, which was owned by Josh’s brother, real-estate mogul Treat Braden. Treat was making changes to the property to appeal to families of varying economic statuses rather than only the upper class. The new boutique, Coastal Enchantments, was one of those changes.
“Great. These are gorgeous, by the way.” She ran her hand over the fabric samples and said, “Almost as gorgeous as Harper.”
“Real subtle, Serena.”
“Almost as subtle as doodling her name on your notebook. What are you, twelve?”
He glanced at his notes from a call he’d had earlier with a woman who’d rambled incessantly, and he was shocked to see he had in fact doodled Harper’s name. He closed the notebook, cursing under his breath. The first thing he’d done when he’d gotten home last night was check the front pocket of his suitcase for Harper’s number. He’d found it just where she’d said it was. He could have kicked himself for not checking there last summer, when he’d scoured the surface of every piece of furniture in their room at the inn, hoping she’d left a note.