Simply Irresistible Page 2

  “He denied everything,” she added. “Swore it was just professional. But that’s almost worse! He hired her to replace me.”

  Yes, she was babbling about intimate details of her life to a total stranger, but she couldn’t help it. She should get a pass, just for today. “Enough about me,” she said, fixing her gaze on Reeve. “What’s your long story of woe? Girlfriend run off with your buddy? Dog get hit by a train? Come on, you can’t be more pathetic than me.”

  Reeve paused, swirling his scotch around the glass. For a moment, it looked like he was about to tell her something, but then he shook his head. “Just family drama, nothing to tell.” A shadow passed over his face as he looked around the room, like he was replaying an old memory. Then he set his glass down. “I’ll go find you that jack, and you can be on your way.”

  He left the room, and Jules tried not to be disappointed. He was doing her a favor, after all, and a tool kit would be way more useful than gossip. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what was troubling his mind.

  And if, perhaps, she could make him forget those troubles…

  Down girl.

  She gave a rueful smile. It was way too soon to be thinking about a rebound fling, and besides, Reeve didn’t exactly seem like he was falling over himself to flirt with her. Yet. Jules spied a dusty mirror by the door and scurried over to check—

  “Noooo… !”

  She stared at herself in horror. Her mascara was dripping, her hair was a tangled mop, and her wet T-shirt was plastered to her chest.

  Completely transparent.

  Jules wished the ground would swallow her up. Why hadn’t he said something? She’d been chatting away, oblivious, and meanwhile she looked like she’d just walked off the stage at some Daytona Beach bar! Her hot pink bra showed through the damp cotton, and—well, there was a chill in the air. That much was clear.

  Very clear.

  She groaned, burying her face in her hands. When would this day be over?

  “Jules?”

  She heard Reeve’s voice echoing down the hall, so she grabbed her jacket and zipped it all the way up to her throat, still mortified. “Hey,” she blurted, hurrying to meet him in the lobby. She practically snatched the tool kit from his hand, avoiding his gaze all the while. “Thanks so much,” she said, blushing all the way to her roots. “I’ll get it back to you, I promise.”

  “You live in town?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

  “No, just visiting, but my friend Evie does. I can tell her where to find you,” Jules added, since she had zero intention of ever stepping foot there again. “I… um… bye!”

  She turned on her heel and practically sprinted out the front door. It was still pouring with rain outside, but she was glad for the cold water against her flaming cheeks. But she hadn’t gone more than twenty paces before she heard her name being called behind her.

  Jules turned to see Reeve sprinting after her through the rain. She realized with a groan that she’d forgotten to pay for the terrible bottle of wine she’d opened, and she was about to apologize all over again when he held out a familiar red leather wallet.

  “You forgot this,” he said, coming to a stop beside her.

  She took it, feeling even more of a mess than before. “Thank you,” Jules said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Nothing,” Reeve replied, furrowing his brow. “Absolutely nothing.”

  “Tell that to my ex,” Jules said ruefully, turning to go, but Reeve suddenly caught her hand, pulling her back.

  She looked up at him, confused, as he closed the distance between them.

  “He’s a fool,” Reeve said bluntly, looking into her eyes. Jules blinked, caught for a moment in the intensity of his gaze, water running in rivulets down his face. Then he reached out and cupped her cheek, his hand cool against her burning skin. “If he let you go? He’s a damn fool.”

  Jules’s heart stopped. The small part of her brain that was still functioning wondered if this was really happening, if this sexy stranger was really touching her, looking at her like she was the center of the universe.

  But the rest of her…

  The rest of her was drawn to him, as if pulled by gravity.

  She swayed closer, caught in the depths of his gaze. His touch was electric against her skin. The moment lingered, charged between them. And then Reeve was kissing her, his mouth hot and searching, and Jules couldn’t have formed a coherent thought if she’d tried.

  All she could do was feel.

  The solid muscle of his torso. The urgent press of his lips. The passion as he pulled her closer, one hand tangling in her hair as she lost herself completely to the moment. In an instant, they were an inferno. Desire burned hot enough to blot out the cold rain dripping down her spine as Jules arched up, shamelessly throwing her arms around his neck, greedy for another taste.

  She wanted more.

  But Reeve stepped back. He released her, looking about as disoriented as she felt. “I… wasn’t planning that,” he said, looking breathless, and he wasn’t the only one. Jules hadn’t planned on breaking down, getting drenched, or making out with a total stranger, but there they were.

  And she was fine just rolling with it.

  But she could see Reeve was already back down to earth again. He shook his head and chuckled, giving her a wry grin. “You take care of yourself,” he said. “The wine’s on me.”

  And then he headed back to the lodge, leaving Jules drenched and lightheaded. Suddenly, her breakup didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Hell, she could barely even remember her ex’s name. Because never, in a million years, could he have he ever kissed her like that.

  So maybe the jerk had done her a favor, after all.

  Except, there was no grand plan, Jules reminded herself, starting to trudge back down the driveway again. Just chance, and accident, and, if she was really lucky, a hot bath waiting for her at her best friend’s B&B.

  But all the same, Sweetbriar Cove was suddenly looking a whole lot more intriguing. Because if guys like Reeve were around every corner, waiting to kiss her like that? Well, she might just decide to stay a while…

  2

  “Wait a minute,” Evie put down the coffee pot and fixed Jules with a disbelieving look. “You’re telling me you already found yourself some hot rebound make-out action? Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

  “Because you were kind of busy, accepting lavish praise from everybody in town for your fabulous success,” Jules teased through a yawn.

  Her friend beamed. “It was a great party, wasn’t it?”

  Jules laughed. “The best. Now hand me that coffee before I fall back asleep and leave you to clean up the rest of this mess alone!”

  Evie poured her an extra-large mug and Jules took a grateful gulp, following her friend out onto the back porch, overlooking the gentle curve of the bay. After all the drama with her flat tire and Reeve, it was late by the time she’d made it to the Beachcomber Inn, and Evie’s grand opening party was in full swing. Between the music, guests, and free-flowing champagne cocktails, there hadn’t been time to fill in her friend about her vineyard detour. But now, with the steady crash of waves against the shore, and the rest of the B&B guests still sleeping, Jules was spilling the beans.

  “I still can’t believe you met someone already,” Evie said, efficiently sweeping party debris into a trash bag. She was wearing overalls, and had tied her brown hair back with a brightly patterned scarf. “I thought Rory broke up with you yesterday!”

  “He did. In the morning, before I hit the road.” Jules winced at the memory, sore with rejection. She was still in plaid pajama pants and an old college T-shirt, nursing a headache from one too many of those cocktails. All the same, she valiantly wielded a broom, helping Evie restore the place to order again before everyone woke up.

  “Three whole hours between relationships, that has to be a new record, even for you,” Evie said, teasing.

  “That Reeve guy is not a rel
ationship,” Jules corrected her quickly. “And believe me, I didn’t plan on it!”

  She sighed, sinking down on one of the porch swings. “To be honest, the past twenty-four hours are all a blur,” she admitted. “Everything’s turned upside down. I can’t believe that this time yesterday, I thought I knew exactly what my life looked like. And now? Half my life is packed in boxes in the backseat of my car and I have zero clue what I’m going to do next!”

  Jules thought of all her big plans and brash confidence and suddenly felt like crying. The whirl of determination that had propelled her out of the city had washed away with the summer rainstorm. Now it was a blue sky summer day, but she just felt tired and wrung out, like the dishrag she’d been using to wipe down the sticky kitchen counters.

  Although, that might have been from the hangover, too.

  She’d planned a future with Rory—or at least, taken it for granted that they’d have one longer than the expiration on the groceries she’d just bought to stock his fridge. But now he’d be eating those fresh broccolini with Becky, laughing it up and forgetting that she even existed.

  “Aww, it’ll be OK.” Evie stopped cleaning to pull Jules into a swift hug. “You’re the most resourceful person I know. You’ll figure something out in no time.”

  “Will I?” Jules asked, despairing. “Where am I going to live? You know what apartments cost in Boston. And I have no job anymore! Oh God,” she wailed. “I’m going to have to get terrible roommates, or answer one of those creepy Craigslist ads where I get free rent in exchange for letting my landlord sniff my feet!”

  “Woah,” Evie stopped her, laughing. “You happen to have a best friend with her own inn, remember? You can stay here at the Beachcomber, for as long as you need. I have a ton of rooms.”

  “For paying guests,” Jules reminded her. “You’re booked solid through the end of summer—and don’t even think about cancelling on anyone for me,” she added in a warning tone. “I’m the one who set up your reservation system. I see all.”

  Evie’s face fell, and then she brightened again. “We’ll think of something, I promise, even if it means setting up a trundle bed in my room. We can bunk together, like college.”

  “And how will Noah feel about that?” Jules asked wryly, naming Evie’s new boyfriend.

  Evie beamed. “He loves me, he has to love you. It’s part of the deal.”

  Jules laughed. “That’s sweet, but three is definitely a crowd. I’ll take my chances on the foot-sniffing before I gate-crash your newly loved-up bliss. But if I can stay here for a few days until I can think straight about my future?” she added hopefully.

  “Of course you can.” Evie said immediately. “Unwind, enjoy the beach! There are a ton of fun events in town, and you deserve a summer vacation, after everything you’ve been though.”

  What Jules deserved was a boyfriend who could keep it in his pants—and appreciated all

  her hard work—but failing that, rest and relaxation by the sea seemed like a good enough consolation prize.

  * * *

  They finished cleaning up, and then Jules helped Evie set out the delicious breakfast buffet in the charming old dining room. As the guests began to filter down for bacon and fresh pastries, Jules marveled at her friend’s achievement, taking the rundown old inn and transforming it into a thriving new business—and finding new community and love in Sweetbriar Cove. Jules was proud of her. And if Evie could find a way to start over after heartbreak … Well, then she should be able to get back on her feet again, too.

  Jules headed upstairs, and quickly showered and changed into a pair of beach-ready cut-off jeans and a T-shirt. She’d never been one to wallow, she reminded herself, bouncing back downstairs with more of a spring in her step. She always pulled herself together and found a way to move on to the next project. And the next guy.

  Her jerk of an ex didn’t deserve another minute of her time.

  “Do you need any more help here?” she asked Evie, grabbing a muffin from the table. “I thought I’d go into town and explore. And by ‘explore’, I mean, find even more coffee.”

  “Go, enjoy,” Evie laughed, balancing a pitcher of orange juice and a fruit plate. “See you later? We’ll have pizza and watch movies and gossip about boys.”

  Jules laughed. “Seeing as we’re such mature, grown-up women,” she teased.

  Evie grinned back. “It never gets old!”

  Jules headed out, strolling the sandy beach road that looped gently along the shore and up into town. Gulls circled lazily overhead, and she could see a few early morning vacationers already setting out their coolers and towels on the sand. She took a deep breath of salty sea breeze, and felt herself unwind, just a little.

  Evie was right: She’d figure something out, a new and exciting future. She’d developed all kinds of social media and marketing skills working on Rory’s career; now, it was time to use them for a client who wouldn’t cheat and kick her to the curb without a second thought:

  Herself.

  Sure, Jules wasn’t sure how just yet, but until that flash of inspiration struck? She would enjoy her unexpected vacation. She’d been working so hard for the past few years, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d stepped away from her laptop for more than ten minutes. Now, she had all the time in the world. The best of Cape Cod was waiting, and she was going to make the most of it.

  There were worse places to be stuck, that was for sure.

  She’d never been a small-town girl; she’d always loved the buzz of big cities, full of people and nightlife. Evie had been singing Sweetbriar Cove’s praises since she moved to town, and as Jules arrived in the town square, she had to admit, she could see the appeal. The quaint streets were lined with local businesses, and people were already out, enjoying the morning sun: locals catching up on the picnic benches, tourists snapping photos by the gazebo, and sipping coffee from bright pink paper cups—

  Jules intercepted one of the strolling caffeine fiends. “Excuse me, where did you get that?”

  “The cart on the corner,” the woman pointed across the square. “She’s nearly sold out, so you better hurry!”

  Jules practically sprinted to take her spot in line. “Iced, extra whip, extra syrup, extra shot… no, make that two,” she said, beaming, when it was time to place her order. After all, it was a vacation!

  She accepted the frothy, delicious looking treat and left a big tip in the jar, about to take her first gulp when—

  A loud barking noise came from behind her, and something large and fluffy careened through her legs. Jules yelped, stumbling back, but it was too late: Her drink spilled all down the front of her shirt.

  “Archie!” A flustered woman raced after the tornado of golden fur. “I’m so sorry!” she called to Jules as she sprinted past. “Bill me for the dry cleaning!”

  And then they were gone.

  Jules looked down and groaned. Her epic coffee was now an epic mess: whipped cream and syrup smeared across her chest, leaving the fabric cold and sticky against her skin. She looked around, scanning the square for some place to clean up, but instead, her eyes landed on a very familiar looking man.

  Reeve Hastings.

  Jules froze, her cheeks flushing hot just at the sight of him. She could still remember the feel of his lips on hers from their unexpected kiss: Hot and wild enough to make her forget the freezing downpour.

  Full of simmering passion.

  Her impression of him from yesterday had been rain-drenched and stormy, all cryptic intensity and mysterious charm. Now, he was strolling in the sunlight, she wondered if she’d remembered him all wrong. He was wearing jeans and a casual blue T-shirt that brought out the deep gold of his tan, nodding at passersby and seeming totally at ease as he paused by the newsstand and chatted with the vendor. He was smiling. Laughing. He was—

  Heading straight for her!

  Jules quickly scampered behind the gazebo and crouched there, out of sight, as Reeve drew closer. An older man gave her an
odd look, but she ignored him. Better to be the weird lady hiding in the flowerbed than have to face Reeve looking like she’d just dived headfirst into a vat of whipped cream. Last night she’d been soaked from the rainstorm, and here she was, looking like a whole new kind of disaster.

  What was it about wet T-shirts and this man?

  Closer… Closer… Jules waited, hoping Reeve would just pass her by and be on his way, but instead, his cellphone sounded and he paused by the gazebo to answer the call, talking just a few feet away from her.

  “You’re telling me there’s nothing I can do?”

  Jules peered through the railings. Reeve had his back turned to her, but his voice was low, and full of tension.

  “I’m trying to get to the bottom of it!” he exclaimed. “But the paperwork is a mess. I can’t even tell what loans he’s taken out on the property.” Reeve paused, pushing back his hair in a gesture of pure frustration. “I know,” he said, exhaling. “It’s not your fault, I just don’t know what to do. Unless we get some money coming in to the vineyard, the bank will foreclose and take everything.”

  Jules drew back. It seemed wrong to be eavesdropping on such a personal conversation, especially when Reeve hadn’t wanted to talk about his life the other day. But clearly, he had a lot on his mind.

  She turned, about to make a swift retreat, when the flustered dog-owner from earlier appeared in front of her. “There you are!” the woman exclaimed. She was Jules’ age, with a blue streak in her choppy hair and a pair of denim coveralls. “I realized, you don’t even know how to find me. I’m Cassie,” she said, with a firm grip on the dog’s leash this time. “And this is Archie. We’re so sorry. I have a spare shirt, if you want.”

  “That’s OK,” Jules gulped, glancing behind her. She’d been hoping to duck away before Reeve noticed her.

  “I insist!” Cassie said loudly. “Look, he made a total mess of your outfit, and—Hi Reeve!”

  No!

  Jules cringed as Reeve looked over. “Hi Cassie,” he said, and then his eyes moved to take in Jules in all her coffee-stained glory. “And… ”