Page 1
PROLOGUE
Cash
I slurped my spicy mango margarita—because I was manly enough to enjoy a good drink, regardless of its frilly packaging—and tried to focus on the pretty tourist beside me at the bar. Blond curls spilled down her shoulders, practically more coverage than her low-cut tank top provided. Her hazel eyes drank me in, gaze slipping up and down my body in a not-so-subtle invitation to get naked with her.
Tequila and bad decisions were flowing at The Drunken Worm. It was nearing midnight and the Tex-Mex restaurant had shifted from family fun to rowdy pickup spot. Laughter rang out loud and brash, drawing my attention to a table full of women in bikini tops and wraparound skirts, all sipping from fishbowl-sized margaritas large enough to drown a small child.
Amy—or Annie?—tugged my arm to regain my attention. “Hey, did you hear me?”
“Hmm?”
“I asked if you wanted to get out of here?”
She dangled an old-fashioned brass key emblazoned with a treehouse between us.
The logo of the Treehouse B&B.
Declan’s place.
My mouth went dry at the sight of it. I shouldn’t be excited to go there, right? Declan wouldn’t be pleased to see me again. Two nights ago I’d hooked up with a guest named Raul, and things had gotten a little loud.
Declan had knocked on the door and told us to keep it down.
His forehead creased with a frown, but that meant nothing. Declan was always frowning. It seemed to be his natural expression. But that night, his eyes also narrowed, and he pinned me with a glare that told me he was pissed.
I was seriously messed up for liking a man’s irritation so much, but damn, it’d been hot.
And if I couldn’t have his interest, at least I could get under his skin.
“Well?” she asked. “What do you say? Shall we go have some fun?”
Fun? Was that what this was? I’d done it so many times I’d numbed myself to any spark of excitement. Hooking up with tourists was no longer about fun for me. It was about escape.
Escape from my house.
From my asshole dad.
From thinking at all.
I licked my dry lips, thinking about how Declan might react tonight. It didn’t really matter, though. He’d notice me.
I wasn’t sure why that was so important, only that it was.
“Okay, let’s go.”
We were a few blocks from the B&B—and I knew a shortcut across the park that saved us from passing by the old defunct resort or RV retreat.
Amy giggled nervously as she followed me between trees. “I hope you know where you’re going.”
“Like the back of my hand. I’m a local, remember?”
She grasped my arm, pressing in close, and I fought the urge to pull away. If I didn’t want to sleep outside or go crawling to one of my friends and admit to just how bad things had gotten at home, then I needed to see this through.
Amy was a pretty enough woman. There was no reason to not do this.
Still, my stomach tied itself in knots. It was getting more difficult to slip from one bed to the next. Especially when none of them were the bed I really wanted.
The B&B loomed up in the darkness as we stepped from the trees. It was a two-story house with one wing hovering above ground—supported by a large oak tree that grew up through the center of it and exited the roof.
Amy led me to the front entrance, using her key to let herself in. A lamp sat on the check-in counter to the left of the door, casting a soft glow over the great room, where guests could lounge on sofas and chairs that looked like they’d come straight out of the 1970s. Declan really needed to redecorate.
It was late enough I might miss his scowl altogether. That was a shame.
Amy veered toward the staircase that led to the second floor. “I’ve got the treehouse suite,” she said. “It’s gorgeous. We can fuck out on the deck.”
I cringed as her voice carried.
The door from the kitchen swung open and Declan stepped out, lips pressed together, brow furrowed. He wore a surprisingly adorable pajama set covered in SpongeBob characters and pineapple houses.
“What are you wearing?” I raked my gaze over him as he crossed the dining room, my smile widening with delight.
Sadly, the PJs were cotton and didn’t cling to his chest and thighs the way his usual navy silk pajamas did.
“What?” Declan glanced down, a breath of displeasure escaping. Color darkened the back of his neck. “My niece gave them to me.”
“Aw, sweet,” Amy crooned, reminding me she was still there. “Sorry if we disturbed you. Cash and I were just on our way upstairs. Right, Cash?”
Was that right? I wanted to linger and tease Declan. Amy didn’t interest me. But I had given her certain expectations…
“Right.” I stepped closer to Declan, unable to resist one parting shot. “You know,” I murmured. “The upside-down pineapple is a symbol swingers use.” I poked his thigh where SpongeBob’s house was floating upside down. “You never told me you were so adventurous, Dec.”
His eyes widened as he sputtered a denial. I turned with a laugh to follow an impatient Amy up the stairs.
“Please keep it down,” Declan called after us, so sternly it sent a little shiver across my skin.
Amy led me to the suite, unlocking her door and stepping inside. I followed, looking around even though I was already familiar with the king-size bed in the center of the room, the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the large soaker tub in the corner.
The lights were off, but moonlight poured in, silvering everything in a gentle glow.
Amy turned to me with a smile that surely worked on most men. “I thought we’d never get up here. The owner is such a stick-in-the-mud.”
My reflexive smile tightened on my face. “Declan is a good guy.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, moving in close. Her hands rested on my waist, and she leaned up to kiss my neck. “He’s just…you know…kind of weird.”
I stiffened—and not in a fun way.
Amy didn’t notice, too busy trying to feel me up. She slipped small, soft hands under my T-shirt. Not at all what I was craving.
Unbidden, an image of Declan rose in my mind. He wasn’t a bear of a man by any means, but his hands were large and callused from all the gardening he did around the B&B grounds. One night when I’d pushed him too far, he’d taken my arm and walked me to the door. My biceps twinged, an echo of the bruising touch that had turned me on even more.
All the thoughts of Declan were helping my body respond appropriately, but Amy’s touch was still all wrong.
Her words were even worse.
“Declan isn’t weird,” I snapped into the quiet space between us. “He’s gorgeous and smart and…and I know he’s a bit of a grouch, but it only adds to his charm. He’s sweet under that exterior. He doesn’t show it often, but…”
Amy pulled back from me, eyes wide. “Are you gay for him or something?”
Oh, nothing like a little bi-erasure to make this shitfest of a night better.
“No, I’m bisexual, Amy. Pansexual, really, not that you’d even understand the nuances.”
She looked affronted. “My name is Annie, and I never agreed to that.”
I barked a laugh. “You never agreed to my sexual identity? Well, good thing it’s not up to you.”
“You know what I mean. I’m not having a threesome with you and that…that…”
She waved her hand toward the door.
I rolled my eyes. “You should be so lucky. Don’t worry. Declan has absolutely zero interest in you or me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you should go.”
I sighed and raked my hands through my hair. Thought about whether I could still salvage my sleeping arrangement. If I grabbed her, kissed her, put my hands and tongue to work, I could persuade her.
I hesitated too long.
Amy gave me a shove. “Just go!”
“Okay, okay,” I said, fending her off. “No need to get all violent and shit.”
“Get out of my room now! I hope your weirdo is worth losing all this!”
She gestured to her body as if it were a prize—and granted, she was a lovely woman—but the idea that skipping a night with her was any great loss made me chuckle.
I ducked out the door just before a vase hit it with a crash.
Oops. Declan would not be happy about that.
I halfway expected him to be waiting outside with his disapproving glare and orders for me to straighten up. But the hallway was dark and empty. I slunk down it, torn about what to do next.
Declan was gone to bed, as were all the guests. I paused, eyeing the sofa in the living room.
I could just wait a couple hours to ensure my dad was out cold, then walk to our place on the other side of the park. The thought of sneaking past him snoring on the couch in the same stained tank top—the coffee table littered with cheap-ass Pabst beer cans—and climbing into my too-small twin to sleep in a house steeped in hate and regret did not appeal at all.
At least Katelyn wasn’t there tonight. She was staying over with a friend. A tactic she often used during the summer, and good for her. I’d done that shit when I was in high school, too. Now that I was an adult, it was actually more difficult because my friends had all moved out of their parents’ places and had their own lives. Even Brooks had unchained himself from the bar and was shacking up with that pretty Skylar.
I sighed and sank back against the cushions, my eyes growing heavy. Maybe I could just stay here a little while longer. I’d clear out before morning…
Declan
I rolled onto my right side, the faint ache in my lower back nagging me awake. I’d overdone it in the garden, trying to get my last fertilizing of the summer in before it was too late. I should have used the wheelbarrow, but I got impatient and lugged heavy bags around like I was twenty years younger.
Not that I’d been sleeping well, anyway. I huffed an annoyed breath and flipped my pillow to the cool side. I closed my eyes, but they sprang open a second later. I was restless. Uncomfortable. Thirsty .
I blamed Cash Hicks.
He had to stop rolling through here like a tumbleweed. I should be used to him turning up with his flavor of the night. I was used to it. In the beginning, I’d seen Cash as a minor nuisance. An immature fuckboy who was sowing his wild oats, but as long as guests wanted that sexual energy in their rooms, it wasn’t my problem.
Then he turned that seductive smile on me. And, well…I’d have preferred that he didn’t. For one, it didn’t make any sense. What did he see in me when he was hooking up with half of the Swallow Cove tourist population? Secondly, I’d never been comfortable with things of a more intimate nature. My ex-boyfriend had called me cold, uptight, guarded. Take your pick. But no matter how I shot down Cash, he always had a smile for me.
A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes.
I threw back the blankets and got up, unable to ignore my bladder’s urging even though it was nowhere near morning. Once that was done, my thirst renewed itself and I resigned myself to being awake.
I headed out of my private quarters to get a glass of water in the kitchen. I gulped cool tap water, sighing with relief, and started the trek back to my room. I could read for a while or maybe start a crossword puzzle to unwind…
A shadow moved in my peripheral vision. I stopped and turned. A man-sized shape slumped on the sofa in the great room. Had a guest returned drunk?
Hesitantly, I crouched down by the sofa and put my hand on his shoulder.
He exhaled softly—and though the idea of recognizing someone’s breath seemed ridiculous, I instantly knew it was Cash.
“Hey.” I shook him gently. “You okay?”
Cash turned over, his eyebrows drawn together and his lips parted, but his eyes still firmly shut. I had an up-close view of his objectively gorgeous face. He had nicely symmetrical features. His nose was straight and not too big. His lips were full but not too pouty. Stubble darkened his jaw. He really should shave more, but Cash seemed to like the scruffy look, and judging by how many people he took to bed, others did, too. There was a certain rakish charm to it that fit his personality, I supposed.
When his eyes were open, they were as bright as the Caribbean under his dark brows, and usually filled with mischief or humor. Though sometimes, lately, there seemed to be darker shadows there, lurking under the surface.
I shook him again. “Cash. Hey. You can’t sleep here.”
He started awake, sitting up so quickly I had to rear back to avoid a knock to the head.
“Wha…” He swiped a hand over his face. “Declan?”
“You can’t sleep out here,” I repeated. “Go back to Annie’s room.”
“Annie?” He looked confused for a moment. “You mean Amy? Er…no. Annie is right.” He groaned. “Shit, I can’t go back there.”
“Why not?”
He smiled sheepishly. “I sort of got kicked out.”
My stomach tightened. I didn’t take Cash for the type of guy to cross the line, but I had to ask. “What happened? You didn’t?—”
“Of course not,” he said, hurt flitting through his gaze. “I would never do that.”
I nodded. “I didn’t think so. Sorry. I had to ask.”
He shook his head. “I just…I wasn’t in the mood.”
I raised an eyebrow. That had to be a first.
Cash read my expression. “I’m not just a walking sex machine. I have feelings too.”
“I’m sure you do.” I hesitated. “I can’t let you sleep out here. The guests…”
He sighed. “Yeah, I didn’t mean to crash. I was just waiting until?—”
He stopped short.
“Until what?”
He hesitated, nibbling his full bottom lip.
“Cash,” I said sternly. “Tell me.”
A breath rushed out of him. “Just until I was sure my dad would be unconscious. We don’t get along.”
“Why haven’t you moved out of there yet?”
Cash was twenty-four or twenty-five. Most people didn’t stay with their families that long, though Swallow Cove had limited housing available—especially affordable housing.
Cash’s face tightened. “I would have, if not for my sister. She needs someone in her corner. My mother works crazy hours, and I contribute to the bills. It’s not like I have a lot of better options other than a camper like Sawyer, anyway.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged. “I find ways to avoid the house when things get too messy.”
“Ways,” I said slowly. “Ways like…” I gestured toward the stairs. “Like Annie?”
Cash’s eyes clouded over. “I’ll head home. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“It’s three in the morning.”
“It’s fine.”
“No.” I stood. “Come with me. You can stay in my room.”
His eyebrows shot up and a cocky grin spread across his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“To sleep,” I said firmly.
Cash followed me down the hall and into my private quarters that included a small sitting room, office, bedroom and attached bathroom. It was essentially a full apartment minus a kitchen. With the full house kitchen so close, it seemed silly to add in a kitchenette.
The B&B had been my aunt’s pride and joy, and she’d loved cooking and always joked that she had no desire to do it in miniature.
I still wasn’t sure why she’d left me the B&B in her will. I had fond memories of the place, of course, but I wasn’t the most social butterfly. Still, Aunt Millie loved it, so I tried to love it too.
Tried being the operative word there.
“You can sleep on the couch. I’ll get you a pillow.”
Cash tucked his hands into his pockets. “Thanks.”
I went to the closet and pulled out a sheet, a light cotton blanket, and a pillow. When I returned, Cash had taken off his shirt and was unzipping his shorts.
He was objectively gorgeous everywhere, then.
I averted my gaze as I placed the bedding on the end of the couch. “Do you need anything else?”
“Maybe just one thing.”
I turned, and Cash cupped my face in his hands.
“A kiss?” He leaned in, eyes on mine. “If you want it?”
My heart thundered, catching me off guard. Did I want a kiss from him? From anyone? Normally, the answer would be an easy no. But something about this man, so casual with his affections and yet weighed down by worry, captured my attention.
But he was so very casual with his affections.
He probably believed this was a suitable way to thank me. Just one more way he was finding to avoid going home.
I didn’t want to be that. Didn’t want to be an excuse or a crutch or whatever the heck Cash’s conquests were to him.
He inched forward, and I couldn’t bring myself to move or speak. Not until his lips brushed over mine, so warm and soft. My breath caught, and for a moment, I could almost understand the fuss everyone else made about sex.
I stumbled back, shaking my head. “N-no. That’s not why I said you could stay here.”
His smile was small, a little questioning. “Would it be so bad?”
I pointed at the bedding and said sternly, “Go to sleep, Cash.”
He chuckled. “Okay, but I’m not giving up on you.”
“Lord help me,” I muttered as I went to my bedroom. There was no chance I’d sleep a wink with a mostly naked Cash in the next room.
I curled up with a crossword until morning. Then I woke Cash and told him I was going to Tastes Like Grandma to pick up biscuits and gravy for my guests. I only served a full, home-cooked breakfast on the weekends to save my sanity.
When he invited himself along, I didn’t protest. Which was unlike me.
We ordered breakfast for ourselves while we waited for Rosie to whip up the larger to-go order, and I paid the tab.
“This is great,” Cash said once we sat down with coffee and breakfast plates. “But you do know I can buy my own breakfast, right?”
“Well, I don’t know how you do things, but when a man spends the night with me, he gets breakfast.”
A surprised laugh burst from him. “Did you just make a joke? Really?”
“I’m not totally humorless,” I grumbled.
He smiled. “Maybe not. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.” He leaned in. “You could have made me breakfast in bed, or better yet?—”
I shoved a piece of toast in his mouth before he could say something suggestive.
“I want to talk to you about last night.” At his expression, I quickly added, “Not anything with us. Just your situation.”
He pulled the toast from his mouth. “My situation…”
“Yes. I want you to know you can stay at the B&B anytime.”
“With you?”
“In one of the guest rooms. I’m rarely fully booked. There’s no need for you to…find someone. Understand?”
His smile dropped. “Why?”
“Because you obviously need a place to go.”
“I manage okay. It’s not like I can’t go home. I just prefer to avoid it sometimes.”
“And you can avoid it at the B&B. Alone.”
“But…” His brows drew together, and he leaned in over the table. “Dec, are you making this offer just to be nice or because you don’t like to see me with other people?”
“W-what?” I stuttered. “No. That’s not it.”
“Because you seemed like maybe you wanted that kiss last night. Why did you pull away?”
I stiffened, those words triggering a flood of memories. Every time a date would ask, Why don’t you want to kiss more often? Why do you say no so much? Why don’t you want me as much as I want you?
I snapped open the newspaper I’d purchased from the box outside the diner. “Just eat your breakfast. If you need a place to stay, you can have an empty room. That’s all I’m offering.”
“Got it.” Cash plastered on a fake smile. “I’m fine, Declan. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll steer clear of the B&B.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“Let’s just eat breakfast,” he cut in. “I apologize for the inconvenience to you, okay? I should have gone home.”
My lips pressed tight. I didn’t want him to apologize. I didn’t view his night in my quarters as an inconvenience—which was a surprise to me, too.
But I couldn’t find the words to express that to him. Not without tipping us right back into his world of sexual innuendo and expectations I could not meet.
Cash and I spoke different languages.
So I nodded and fixed my eyes on the newspaper as if the articles within held all my attention when really my mind was far too full of the man across from me.
Table of Contents
- Page 1 (Reading here)
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38