Wildest Dreams: Sweetbriar Cove: Book Seven Read online

  She wouldn’t make that mistake again. She wasn’t sure what was next for Aphrodite, but she wasn’t going to let a man make her feel like she had to choose again. And if he did? Well, next time, she was choosing herself.

  3

  Paige stared at her easel for the rest of the morning, wondering how she could possibly produce Lexi’s new line. Luckily, the woman herself provided an easy escape. “Happy Fourth of July weekend!” she announced, practically dragging Robert to the door before lunch. “See y’all Monday! Or maybe, like, Tuesday,” she said with a wink. “We’re going to the Vineyard.”

  “I take it back,” Mindy grinned, packing up her stuff. “I love our new boss.”

  Paige laughed and headed for the exit before Robert changed his mind. She’d planned on driving down to the beach for the holiday weekend, and now she would get a head start on summer traffic. Her bags were already packed and waiting in the car, so she hit the freeway, leaving the city hustle behind for the expanse of blue ocean and lush, leafy woods that lined the Cape.

  She’d grown up spending her summers at the shore in their family beach house, exploring the tide pools and splashing in the waves. As an adult, her visits had tapered off to holiday weekends, but now that her sister had moved down for good, Paige was looking forward to spending more time there—far from Lexi and her annoying demands.

  She reached the shore by early afternoon and drove down the sandy beach road, relaxing as the house came into view. Faded blue shingles and a wide wrap-around porch overlooking the ocean; it had been passed down in the family, but they’d come close to having to sell, until Cal had stepped in with a grand romantic gesture and gifted it back to the family again.

  She parked beside Eliza’s car out front and hauled her weekend bag up to the front door.

  “Hello?” she called, stepping inside. The windows were open, and the fresh sea breeze cut through the heat of the summer afternoon. “Eliza?”

  Music was coming from the kitchen, so she followed the sound through and pushed open the doors. “I brought supplies, and—oh!” Paige yelped, lurching back.

  “Paige!” Eliza’s voice was high-pitched.

  She slapped a hand over her eyes, but not fast enough to block the sight of her sister, half-naked against the counter, locked in an . . . intimate embrace with Cal.

  “Sorry!” Paige cried, backing blindly out of the room. She bumped into a wall and yelped again. “I didn’t mean to, umm, interrupt.”

  She fled back to the car, leaving muffled laughter behind her. Her cheeks were burning. Sure, she and Eliza were close, but there were limits to their relationship, and those limits involved seeing her sister’s boyfriend naked.

  Eliza called her cellphone a few minutes later, when Paige was on the road again. “I’m so sorry. We weren’t expecting you until later,” she said, sounding breathless.

  “Clearly.” Paige smirked, setting the call to speaker. Now that the shock had passed, she could see the funny side.

  Eliza laughed. “We’ll keep things to the bedroom from now on, I promise.”

  “Hey, take your time. I’m just heading into town to pick up some groceries. Anything you want me to get?” she asked, teasing. “Like bleach for those countertops?”

  Her sister groaned. “Just promise me you won’t tell Mom.”

  “Are you kidding?” Paige exclaimed. “She loves Cal. You landed the rich bachelor, I’m the one who’s still her lost cause, remember?”

  “Yes, but I’ll get another speech about giving the milk away for free,” Eliza sighed.

  “Your scandalous secret is safe with me,” Paige promised. She rolled the windows lower, enjoying the salty breeze as the woods and beach sped past. “Have you heard from her yet?”

  “Not this week, which is weird for her. Let’s hope she’s so worn out from all that hill walking she forgets to meddle in our lives.”

  “Or from some handsome Frenchman,” Paige said, and then stopped. “Wait, don’t answer that. The only person whose love life I want to know less about than yours is Mom’s!”

  “Amen!” Eliza laughed. “But hey, at least she’s happy. And ten thousand miles away, for a change.”

  “Good point,” Paige agreed. Their mother had always been way too involved in their lives, especially after their dad passed away and she had time on her hands. But a few months ago, she’d joined a local walking club, and accepted a new friend’s invitation to go stay in France for the summer, at a house in the countryside. Paige was happy for her. And happy that she would get a summer without her mom’s constant nagging about her single status.

  “Anyway, it’s safe to come back to the house whenever you want,” Eliza promised. “We’re just hanging out for the rest of the day.”

  “Is that what you kids are calling it now?”

  “Paige!”

  “OK, OK,” Paige laughed. “I won’t tease you anymore. To tell the truth, I’m a little jealous. I haven’t been pushed up against a counter in . . . well, ever.” Paige frowned. That didn’t seem right, but as she wracked her brain through past relationships, she realized it was the sad truth. She didn’t date men who were taken with sudden displays of passion. Doug had always hated PDAs—for him, affection belonged in the bedroom, preferably after the nightly news had finished and he’d pressed his shirt for the morning.

  Declan would kiss her anywhere.

  Paige flushed, even though nobody was around to see the memory that flashed in her brain. His hands on her body . . . His mouth, wild and sensual against hers. She felt the heat flood through her all over again, and it took her a moment to realize Eliza was still chattering on the phone.

  “. . . tonight, I know there are festivals all the time, but this should be really fun. There’s a carnival, with all kinds of rides and games. We’re heading over around six?”

  “Sure. Great!” Paige blurted, her mind still back on that starlit beach, with Declan’s body pressed hard against her. “I, umm, better go. See you later!”

  She hung up the call and tried to corral her thoughts back to reality. Declan had been a moment of madness, just a brief reckless urge after her near-death experience. She could never actually date a guy like that, he’d drive her crazy within a week. And something told her Declan wasn’t exactly Mr. Monogamous himself. She was looking for a real relationship: marriage, children. As her mom liked to remind her, she wasn’t getting any younger.

  But damn, Declan had made her feel sixteen all over again.

  * * *

  A few miles up the coast, Paige reached Provincetown, nestled on the tip of the Cape. It was a charming, lively town set on the bay, with quaint boutiques and galleries lining the cobbled streets, and now in the height of summer season, the sidewalks were crammed with tourists enjoying salt-water taffy and sunshine. Paige navigated carefully through the crowds and nabbed a parking spot just off Commercial Street, which was decked out for the holiday with ticker-tape banners and flags of every denomination fluttering in the breeze.

  She slowly strolled the busy street, soaking up the summer vibes. She loved this place, with its unexpected mish-mash of art galleries, cafes, and drag nights at the local bars. When she was a kid, they’d played for hours in the safe, shallow waters; as a teen, she and Eliza had loitered on the pier; and now, she loved checking out the boutiques. But whatever her age, her first stop never changed: Twin Scoops ice cream.

  She could already see the line snaking out of the tiny storefront, so Paige took her time getting there, checking out the new stores that seemed to pop up every year. She already sold her Aphrodite lingerie through a couple of the boutiques on the Cape, and she was always looking for more. But as she reached the end of the street, it was an empty storefront that caught her eye: a slim, dusty window barely six feet wide, beside a bright-red door.

  Paige drifted closer. On the second floor, overgrown begonia trailed forlornly from a window box, and beside the building, an alleyway disappeared into the back. There had been a jeweler’s
there, she recalled, just a tiny store. She peered closer through the smudged glass and could make out a few display cabinets in the narrow room, sitting empty, and old sheets of newspaper scattered on the bare wooden floor. It was a shame. They’d sold hand-crafted metal designs and precious stones; beautiful, but always out of her price range.

  Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten for hours. She should grab a salad from the deli, but instead, she crossed the street and took her place in line. Ice cream for lunch. There, who said she wasn’t living life on the edge? Paige smiled to herself as the line inched forwards. She could already smell the sugary scent of waffle cone, making her mouth water.

  “So much for eating healthy this month.” The woman beside her in line let out a sigh. She looked about the same age as Paige, with dark hair caught up in a ponytail, and expressive brown eyes. “I tell myself it’s all raw juice and kale, but then I actually eat some, and it’s right back to the pastry cabinet for me.”

  Paige smiled in agreement. “Kale is the worst.”

  “Right?” the woman agreed. “And I’m sorry, but you’ll have to pry carbs from my cold, dead hands.”

  “I tried this new diet the other month, intermittent fasting?” Paige said.

  The woman grimaced. “Sounds fun.”

  “You’re supposed to eat normally and then just fast for two days a week,” Paige explained. “But somehow, whenever I reached my fast days, I just . . . wouldn’t.”

  The woman laughed. “That sounds about right.”

  The line moved forwards, and the woman stepped through the doorway, but her dress caught on the door. “Wait.” Paige tried to stop her. “Your dress—”

  But she was too late.

  RIIIP.

  The fabric split along the seam, leaving the back of the woman’s dress gaping wide over a flash of purple panties.

  What was it with Paige and strange butts today?

  The woman grabbed to clutch her dress closed. “Shoot!” she exclaimed, looking panicked. “I have a job interview in twenty minutes! I can’t go like this!”

  “It’s OK.” Paige swung into action. “Is there a restroom around?”

  “In the back.” The woman bolted into the store, and Paige followed, already rummaging in her purse.

  The bathroom was a tiny space crammed in the back of the store. The woman scooted over to make room for Paige in the room then shut the door behind them. “I’m Jenny, by the way,” she said. “I figured I should introduce myself, since you’ve already seen my ass hanging out.”

  “For what it’s worth, it’s a great ass,” Paige said, laughing.

  Jenny grinned. “Thanks. I’d happily flash it around if I thought it would help with the interview, but it’s one of the snootiest restaurants in town.”

  “Clothing definitely required,” Paige agreed. “I’m Paige. Can you take it off?”

  “Only you buy me dinner first,” Jenny joked, shrugging the dress over her head. She was wearing a hot-pink bra that clashed with her purple panties, but they looked like comfortable cotton, well-worn.

  Paige pulled out her mini sewing kit and eyed the fabric of Jenny’s dress. “Blue . . . no, the navy,” she decided, selecting thread to match.

  “Are you Mary Poppins?” Jenny asked, looking impressed.

  Paige smiled. “Tricks of the trade. I work in fashion,” she explained. “So I learned never to leave the house without supplies. You never know when something will go wrong.”

  “Like me.” Jenny let out a sigh.

  Paige carefully cut a length of thread, threaded a needle, and lined up the ripped seam. She pinned it in place and then started sewing.

  “Seriously, you’re amazing,” Jenny said, watching her work. “I can barely sew a button. And something tells me the maître d’ doesn’t want visible cheek in his dress code.”

  “Good call,” Paige agreed. “Although, there are a couple of places around that wouldn’t mind.”

  Jenny snorted. “True, but they don’t tip so well. I already work shifts at Sage—”

  “Oww!” The needle slipped, and Paige pricked herself.

  “You OK?”

  “Fine!” Paige sucked her finger, not wanting to admit that the mention of Declan’s restaurant had sent her focus scattering. “You were saying?”

  “Oh, just that I need to pick up something extra for the summer, before my niece eats me out of house and home. She guzzles cereal like it’s going out of style,” Jenny said, leaning against the sink. “Are you here on vacation? I haven’t seen you around.”

  “Kind of.” Paige squinted at the tiny stitching. “My sister just moved here with Cal, Cal Prescott?”

  “Oh!” Jenny exclaimed. “I know Eliza.”

  “Of course you do.” Paige looked up and caught Jenny’s inquisitive stare. “Sorry, it’s just . . . I’m getting used to the whole ‘small town’ thing. I feel like everywhere I go here, Eliza’s already planted the flag.”

  She bit her lip, surprised. She didn’t know where that had come from. She didn’t feel bad about it—all of Eliza’s friends had been nothing but welcoming—but still, Paige couldn’t shake that high-school feeling, like they were all her sister’s friends and she was just tagging along.

  But Jenny nodded. “I get it. My sister blazed a trail too, leaving a path of destruction in her wake. But we definitely don’t have time to go into that, at least, not without a few drinks.” She checked her phone, looking anxious.

  “Nearly done,” Paige reassured her. She looped the stitching and tied it off. “There!”

  She turned the dress right side out again and held it up. The torn seam was perfectly mended, invisible to the naked eye.

  “Lifesaver!” Jenny cried. “I would hug you right now, but I’ll wait until I have actual clothes on.”

  Paige laughed, and helped her back into the dress. Jenny smoothed it down. “Do I look classy enough to serve oysters and champagne?” she asked, striking an icy pose.

  “La crème de la crème,” Paige declared.

  “How can I thank you?” Jenny asked, pushing the bathroom door open. “Wait, you never got your ice cream. Let me buy you a cone. Make it a sundae. Pete!” she called to the guy behind the counter. “Get my guardian angel here your knickerbocker deluxe, and put it on my tab!” Jenny smothered Paige in a hug. “I have to run, but we should hang out while you’re in town.”

  “I’d like that,” Paige said, surprised.

  “Great! Come by Declan’s anytime, I’ll hook you up with some fries.”

  Paige’s heart skittered. “OK. Good luck with the interview!”

  “Thanks!” Jenny flew out of the store, nearly catching her dress all over again.

  Paige exhaled. One day back in Sweetbriar Cove, and Declan was already unavoidable. But she should probably get used to it. This was a small world, and they had way too many people in common for her to steer clear.

  Besides, it wasn’t a big deal. One little kiss. Sure, it had been epic, and heart-stopping, and had lingered in her mind for weeks, but in the end, it was just a kiss. Hell, he’d probably hooked up with a dozen other women since that night on the beach. She would be surprised if he even remembered it at all.

  “Miss? Here’s your sundae.”

  Paige turned back to the counter and blinked. “All that? For me?”

  The guy laughed. “I guess it’s your lucky day.”

  Paige took in the vast mound of ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and a cherry teetering on top.

  “You know what?” she said, breaking into a smile. “I think it is.”

  4

  Declan closed his eyes and concentrated hard. The kitchen was silent and empty, the lunch rush long since over, and despite the protests of his waiting list, he’d decided to close for dinner service on Fridays through the summer. Sure, they could squeeze an extra fifty covers through the door, but he liked his weekends to be way less work and far more play.

  Like today, experimentin
g with next week’s menu. Declan moved the simmering pan off the flame and tasted the sauce again. Blueberries, coffee, chocolate . . . it was a rich, complex flavor, but something was still missing. Some note of heat or spice that would round out the profile and make the charred rib-eye really sing.

  He tried a dash of cumin, some peppercorns, going through another three saucepans of the stuff, but he still couldn’t make the taste on his tongue match that flavor in his mind.

  “Jenny!” he yelled out to the front of the restaurant. His head waitress appeared in the doorway, folding linens.

  “You bellowed?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

  Declan thrust a spoon in her direction. “Taste.”

  Jenny sighed and moved closer. “The blueberries, again? You’ve been fussing over that sauce all week.” She dutifully took a taste, then shrugged. “It’s fine. Just like the last ten versions you made me try.”

  “Fine,” Declan repeated. “You think people come here for ‘fine’? Everything I serve needs to be exceptional. Magnificent. Sublime.”

  “Drama queen,” Jenny said with a smirk.

  “Remind me why I put up with your sass,” he muttered, frowning at the spice rack again.

  “Because front of house would fall into chaos without me!” Jenny set down her linens. “Mind if I take off now? I’m chaperoning a dozen ten-year-olds at the carnival, and I need to get drunk first. Kidding,” she added quickly. “But I do have errands.”

  “Carnival?” Declan repeated, already distracted.

  Jenny laughed. “Big festival on the way into town? Ferris wheel, funnel cake?”

  “Sure. Have fun,” he replied absently. Cloves. Maybe that would do the trick.

  Declan tossed the pan in the sink and grabbed another, assembling another batch of ingredients to run the whole recipe again. And again. However long it took, he would stay until he got it right. Some nights, he would be there until two, three a.m., chasing that memory of a dish he’d eaten outside Singapore, years ago, or the way the cream had been cut with the lightest lemon in the sauce. He knew his staff joked about his split personality—how he could be so easygoing out in the world, and such a perfectionist in the kitchen—but to Declan, there wasn’t any contradiction. His food was his art. If he showed up late to a meeting, or blew off errands to go have some fun, well, what harm done? But if a single plate passed out of those doors with anything less than a spectacular meal . . .