Page 37 of Beach Cottage Kisses

Taking a middle-of-the-night shower when she woke up sweating from a far too realistic dream of being with him again.

Apparently, they were both good at pretending, were determined to manifest the future they wanted, but neither of them were being honest with the other.

They were pretending.

Which made their relationship little more than a lie.

When she remained silent, unwilling to voice any of her current thoughts, Scott continued, “I told her about the case.”

He’d rested the prosecution’s case the day before and the judge had called a recess until Monday when the defense would present their side.

Of course Scott was tense.

His career meant far more to him than any sex he’d ever had. It was his life. His words, not hers. But she’d certainly seen truth in them during her three years of knowing him.

And if she was even half the friend to him she wanted to be, she’d have sought harder to talk to him about the nuances in the week’s testimony from his witnesses,rather than being all about shutting herself down.

“How do you think the jury reacted to your witnesses? Especially the wife’s sister? You think they found her credible?”

Hands in the pockets of the pants he’d worn to work, Scott said, “I do,” and spent the next twenty minutes talking to her about expressions on jurors’ faces during key parts of testimony, and also laying out areas where the defense could still sway them. Seeming to find her replies astute, if nothing else.

It was good conversation. Interesting. Stimulating.

If you didn’t have the possibility of losing a friendship on the table.

Because, while she wasn’t giving up yet, the stiffness between them was getting worse, not better. Scott hadn’t taken his hands out of his pockets during the entire walk.

As though he was afraid that he might touch her. Even accidentally.

And she’d kept her distance, too. All week.

Because while they could easily have sex until the intense attraction waned, such a choice would be messy and ultimately, people would be hurt. Sage would figure things out. Make more of the sex than was there. Or she or Scott would. Chances were, they wouldn’t both reach that point at the same time. Emotions would get involved. Sides taken.

Or, discomfort would mandate that they not all hang together.

Iris figured, no matter how it all played out, it was only a matter of time before she and Scott quit accessing the beach at the same time.

Determining, too, that it was probably for the best.

Chapter Nine

He was not going to lose her friendship. Scott had known a lot of women. Enjoyed being with them. He’d never, ever known a woman who he just plain wanted to spend time with on a long-term basis.

He and Gray had been best buds since high school. Even after Gray had left Sage just two days before they were due at the altar.

Iris’s friendship meant as much or more to him.

He couldn’t explain it. He just knew that he had to get as drastic as it took to save them.

No holds barred.

And he had to do it fast. The four days of excruciating discomfort on the beach had shown him that much. Every day Iris slipped away from him a little more.

The night before, the way she’d shut herself off from him even during conversation regarding their mutual love—Sage—had brought home to him how critically in danger their friendship had become.

Short of disabling his member, which wasn’t an option, he could only think of one other way to keep himself firmly on the friendship track, and off the sexual one. Cram failure down his throat as hard and as often as he could.

Which meant…surfing.