Sweet Escape at Bayside (Sweet with Heat Page 4

  “There’s only one way to figure this out.” Dixie headed for the door. “Come on. Justin has a house full of liquor, and I’ve got a nose for bull. There’s nothing a night of tequila can’t figure out.”

  Violet looked at Justin and said, “I think I like your cousin.”

  “She’s pretty cool.” He draped an arm over Violet’s shoulder as they headed up to the house. “Just for the record, babe, tequila’s not going to keep me from wanting to mess that guy up.”

  AFTER A FITFUL night’s sleep, Andre poured himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen of the cottage where he and Lizza were staying. The cottage was nice, with a bar separating the eat-in kitchen and living room, two comfortable armchairs, and a roomy couch. But he’d recognize Violet’s artwork anywhere, and the batik hanging on the wall and the small pottery bowls and vases were painful reminders of the things they’d shared.

  He carried his sketchpad out to the patio in the side yard and began sketching—and thinking about the messed-up situation he’d gotten himself tangled up in. He’d met many nice people at the wedding, and not one of them had mentioned Violet having had a boyfriend named Andre. He’d thought that type of coincidence might have come up in conversation. He’d stayed up half the night debating asking Lizza if she knew about his relationship with Violet, but he’d stopped himself for fear of exposing what it appeared Daisy—Violet—had kept secret. He’d tried not to think of Violet as his, or as Daisy, but it just wasn’t working. Knowing she’d kept their relationship a secret should probably push him even further away, but if he knew his Daisy as well as he thought he did, then ignoring the fact that they’d ever been together was her way of hiding from the way it made her feel.

  And that gave him pause.

  A long enough pause to push past his own feelings and try, for the millionth time, to dissect her possible reasons for leaving without even so much as a goodbye.

  The rumble of a motorcycle broke through his thoughts, and he saw headlights ascending the driveway. He’d seen Violet take off on her bike during the reception, still wearing her dress. Now he watched her climb off the bike wearing a man’s dress shirt, which hung so low he could only hope she had something on underneath.

  His gut seized. When they’d been together, although they’d done everything imaginable to each other’s bodies, it had taken her months to finally make love with him. He knew she’d had her reasons. He only wished he knew what they were.

  She opened one of the saddlebags on her bike and lifted out her dress, carrying it, and her helmet, into the cottage next door.

  He’d assumed she didn’t have a boyfriend since she hadn’t been with a date at the wedding, but that shirt, and the time—five a.m.—told him he was a fool.

  Chapter Three

  LIZZA BREEZED OUT the side door at a little after six, carrying a sweatshirt and two colorful towels and wearing a pair of green elephant-print harem pants, a purple tank top that had YOGA GIRLS ARE TWISTED across the chest, and a pink-and-white tie-dyed headband.

  “Come on, Andre. Emery’s teaching a couples yoga class this morning on the beach, and I told her we’d take it.”

  Andre was no stranger to yoga. Violet had convinced him to try it when they were overseas, claiming it would help calm their sexual desperation. It had been as enlightening of an experience as it was enticing, seeing the strong-willed woman he adored in such a state of mindfulness. After she’d left, he’d been swamped by longing and negative energy. Grinding his teeth and snapping at nurses had lasted about a day or two before one of them brought him back to reality when she said, Whatever this nonsense is, tamp it down. We’ve got children who need miracles, not nightmares. He’d used yoga to try to channel the negative energy that had quickly become his constant companion, but it had only reminded him of Violet.

  And now there was couples yoga to deal with.

  Lizza hadn’t said a word when he’d settled into a separate bedroom, but agreeing to do couples yoga might send her the wrong message. Last night he’d been so upset it had seemed reasonable to play up the idea that he was with Lizza just to get under Violet’s skin. But now it felt all kinds of wrong.

  He set down his sketchpad and said, “Lizza, I hope I didn’t mislead you by taking you up on your offer to stay at the cottage. You do realize we’re not that type of couple, right?”

  She waved her hand, laughing softly as she said, “Sweetheart, my days for men like you are long gone. Come on.” She pulled him to his feet. “Let’s go have some fun and work out the kinks. Then we’ll whip up breakfast for everyone. Desiree usually cooks, but I told her and Rick to sleep in. That girl does so much for everyone else. They should be off on their honeymoon, but Emery told me last night that she and Rick weren’t leaving until after I do. What kind of nonsense is that?”

  “Sounds to me like she wants extra time with you.”

  “The only thing that would do is mess her up, and she’s perfect just the way she is.”

  He was an only child and had always been the focus of his parents’ attention. He couldn’t imagine what it would have felt like if one of his parents had taken off when he was young. Loving Violet and learning about the pain she’d endured after being separated from her sister and her stepfather made him want to take a stand and hold Lizza accountable for her actions, but that wasn’t his battle to fight.

  He looked down at his shorts and sweatshirt and said, “I should probably put on workout clothes.”

  “No time for that, darlin’.” She pulled him off the patio and toward the dunes. “Let’s go show these pretty little couples how it’s done.”

  AN HOUR AND a half later, Andre stood before the grill in the side yard of the inn, drizzling chocolate sauce over a plate of strawberry crepes he’d just made, laughing at something Dean had said. He loved cooking, and he traveled to newly developing nations and small villages so often, he was used to cooking on grills and over open fires, making do without the luxuries he’d once been tied to.

  “I can’t believe my man didn’t know you could make crepes on a grill,” Emery said as she picked a strawberry off Dean’s plate and popped it into her mouth.

  Dean stroked his beard, eyeing her as he said, “Where would you rather I experiment, doll? In the bedroom or the yard?”

  “Snap!” Chloe looked at Andre and said, “The bedroom. Always the bedroom.”

  It was probably time to nip that in the bud, too, before anyone got the wrong idea. When Andre and Lizza had arrived for couples yoga, everyone was paired up except for Chloe. Why would anyone show up alone to a couples class? He didn’t bother to ask. Lizza insisted Andre be Chloe’s partner, and Ted’s late arrival for the class had solidified the deal.

  “We always had a creative sex life, didn’t we, Ted?” Lizza said, causing silence to descend around them. “What?” She looked around the table. “How do you think Desiree was conceived? Immaculate conception? Where’s the fun in that? Sheesh!”

  Everyone laughed except Ted, whose cheeks reddened.

  Eyes trained on his plate, Ted said, “How about these crepes?” and shoved a forkful in his mouth.

  Andre served up another plate of crepes, and Drake reached for it.

  “Don’t even think about it, Savage,” Serena said, snagging the plate. “That’s mine.”

  “Seriously, Supergirl?” Drake lowered his voice and said, “What makes you think I wasn’t going to serve that to you?”

  “Aw, you’re so sweet.” She handed him the plate, grinning as she sashayed over to the table and sat beside Emery.

  Drake took the chair beside her and patted his lap. “Over here, babe.”

  As Serena climbed onto Drake’s lap, Andre turned back to the grill, and saw Cosmos making a mad dash toward Violet’s cottage. Violet pulled the door closed behind her and scooped up the excited pup, smiling as he covered her face in sloppy kisses. It was good to see her smiling again. Man, she looked hot as sin in a black miniskirt, gray shirt, and the black boots with silver buckle
s she’d worn often when they’d been together, despite the heat.

  By the time she reached the inn, she was scowling. She set Cosmos down as she entered the fenced area and the pup raced to Lizza, who was dangling a piece of crepe for him.

  “Violet, honey, grab a plate while the crepes are still hot,” Lizza said, lifting Cosmos onto her lap.

  “Andre made breakfast for everyone,” Emery said. “There is nothing this guy can’t do. He partnered with Chloe for couples yoga, and I swear, the man’s almost as flexible as I am.”

  Dean made a growling sound. “I was just about to say if things didn’t work out with Lizza, he could move in with me and Emery to cook breakfasts, but forget that. The only man I want my doll thinking about is me.”

  Violet’s jaw tightened. Her eyes moved from Andre’s face to his bare chest, lingering long enough for a hungry look to crawl across her face. He’d forgotten he’d ditched his sweatshirt during yoga, and now he was glad he had. Let her see what she’d walked away from. Her gaze moved to the tattoo on his shoulder, FAITH IN LOVE. It hadn’t been there when they were together.

  The heat in her eyes morphed to something he couldn’t read—anger or hurt maybe—but in her next breath her expression went stone cold.

  “Well, isn’t this domestic,” she said sarcastically. “Should I start calling you Daddy?”

  “Oh man,” Drake mumbled.

  Before Andre could form a response, Violet stormed toward the parking lot. He wasn’t going to let her do that to him again. He took off after her, falling into step beside her. “What was that?”

  “You’re the one sleeping with my mother.” Her eyes remained trained on her bike as they crossed the gravel driveway.

  “Stop running and talk to me.” When she didn’t stop, he grabbed her wrist and said, “You’re the one who left me in the dark, remember? You owe me some answers.”

  The toe of her left boot pushed into the gravel. “I’m sorry, okay? It was a rotten thing to do. I shouldn’t have left without telling you why. Can we just let it go at that?”

  “No. I can’t.” He released her wrist and said, “Damn it, Daisy. If that was some kind of test, I couldn’t have passed it. You knew I had three months left on my contract. I couldn’t go after you. And when I was finally able to, I looked everywhere. I scoured the Internet for any hint of where you’d gone.”

  “You knew you wouldn’t find me online,” she said a little less harshly.

  “No kidding, but people do stupid things when their hearts are broken.”

  “I’m sure you got over that real quickly when you went back to your black-tie affairs and private practice in Boston.”

  “Is that what you think? That my feelings weren’t real? That I’d forget us?”

  She lifted her chin and said, “Nobody is irreplaceable,” but she looked like she didn’t believe what she’d said, either.

  “You were,” he said honestly. “I went back to Boston and tried carrying on with my life. I tried to forget the woman who stayed up half the night making a special gown for a three-year-old boy who was terrified of having surgery the next day. The woman who cried alongside a young mother whose baby died in childbirth.” He stepped closer and said, “I tried to forget the woman who implored me to step outside of everything I had ever known and do more for others. But that didn’t work, because all I saw in Boston was the empty spot beside me where you belonged. All I heard was your voice in my head every single day when I entered my plush offices, seeing children who had health care and the best doctors at their fingertips.”

  He noticed her lower lip trembling, and she clenched her jaw. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t stop the truth from pouring out. “You helped me see a bigger, broader picture of myself. A picture that meant risking everything. And yeah, I was scared to death, and I had no idea how to live my life like you did, moving from one place to another without ever putting down roots. But I took the risk, Violet. Operation SHINE exists because of you.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Operation SHINE?”

  “That’s right. I freaking did it. Maybe I was chasing your ghost the whole time, or rising to the challenge you put before me. I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. I pooled my resources and connections and bought an international humanitarian organization that had fallen into the wrong hands. I revamped the staff, redirected the efforts, and it was the absolute right thing to do.”

  “Wait…” She shook her head and looked back at the inn, catching her friends watching them. They all looked away, and she said, “Lizza sent a postcard about Operation SHINE months ago. I donate to them.”

  “Lizza volunteers sometimes,” he said. “She and I are not what you think we are.” He paused, letting what he’d said sink in. Violet looked about as confused as he’d been for the last few years. “Do you have any idea what it was like for me to pour out my heart and soul to you and wake up the next morning not just alone but having been abandoned?”

  She turned away, but not before he saw tears in her eyes. Crap. Could he have chosen a more hurtful word? “I’m sorry, Daisy. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  She shrugged and said, “Forget it. It was a long time ago. Who cares?”

  “I do.” He glanced down at her left foot pointing inward and digging into the ground and said, “Obviously you still do, too.”

  She looked down, speaking softly. “It was so long ago, I don’t even remember us.”

  His heart hammered against his ribs as he ground out, “Bull.”

  He hauled her against him and crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her so deeply he felt his love for her seeping out of his skin. She clung to his arms, her nails digging into his flesh, but she didn’t fight him, didn’t try to pull away. Her tongue swept eagerly over his, but he knew she was still holding back, so was he. Because what the heck was he doing? Setting himself up to be slaughtered again?

  He tore his mouth away, leaving them both breathless, and seethed, “Remember us now?”

  Her hands slid from his shoulders, and she touched her lips as if they were still burning for more, like his were.

  “I’m not leaving until I get answers, if for no other reason than to finally get the closure I deserve.” Struggling against every iota of his being, he turned and walked away.

  VIOLET STOOD ON the gravel watching Andre walk away, feeling just as she had the night she’d left their village, like she’d been sliced open and left to bleed out. And just as it had that night, her body refused to let him go. She could still taste him. His musky scent had rooted itself into her pores, and the hard press of his hands gripping her shoulders remained. She felt possessed by him, by his essence. He was everywhere. But hadn’t he always been?

  She didn’t know how long she stood there staring in the direction he’d gone, and she couldn’t remember going up to her pottery studio at the inn. But several hours later, she was sitting at her potter’s wheel, covered in clay, still thinking about their confrontation. Desiree had come up to talk with her, but the ache in her chest hurt so bad, she’d sent her away. It wasn’t fair to take her heartache out on the one person who probably cared most about her, but for the third time in Violet’s life, she felt like her world was spinning out of her control, and she didn’t know how to stop it any better than the first two times—when Lizza had taken her away or when she’d left Andre.

  She realized she was crying and dragged her forearm across her eyes. She forced herself to focus on the vase she was creating. The only time she ever felt completely in control was at her potter’s wheel, when she decided what she was making, how it would look and feel. Sometimes she strove for beauty; other times she went for interesting or meaningful. Today she just wanted to lose herself in the work and forget Andre’s accusation. Do you have any idea what it was like for me to pour out my heart and soul to you and wake up the next morning not just alone but having been abandoned?

  Abandoned…

  The clay lobbed to one side, and she realized she was
squeezing it. She closed her eyes, and her shoulders slumped as she thought about the truth in his accusation.

  Violet had started her life having already been abandoned. She never knew her biological father, who had left when he found out Lizza was pregnant. When she’d asked Lizza about him, her mother had said, You don’t need his ugliness rattling around in your head. It’s better if you don’t know. But Ted had loved and taken care of Violet as if she were his own child, and she’d opened up to him, and after her baby sister was born, she’d bonded with her, too. Lizza had stolen that happy second chance away and thrust her into a nomadic lifestyle. Gradually over the years, Lizza had abandoned her, too, even if on a different level. But her mother had taught her an important lesson. Life was easier if she didn’t form close bonds, and Violet had become an expert at building walls around her heart.

  Except she had formed a bond with Andre. A deep, meaningful connection that had been so real it had scared the life out of her.

  And then I left him.

  Abandoned him. A tear streaked down her cheek.

  “Knock, knock,” Lizza said from the doorway, drawing Violet’s attention.

  Violet swiped at the tear.

  Her mother’s wide-legged pants swished around her long legs as she crossed the studio floor. She wore a dark shirt beneath an oatmeal cardigan that was frayed along the edges, and looked soft, like an old favorite. Violet had no clue what an old favorite of her mother’s might be.

  Lizza’s bracelets clinked as she looked over the pots and vases Violet had drying on various tables. “You still do beautiful work, sweetheart. I’m glad to see you’ve continued doing pottery. I worried about you having been away from it for so long. You’ve always been my earth child. Working with your hands fills your soul in ways other things cannot.”