Page 7 of Hearts at Seaside
“Come on, Pete, lighten up. Yes, I’m enjoying it. I know you want me to find my niche, and I will. Someday.”
“I know you will. Do you need anything? Are you okay financially?”
“Yes, Pete. I’m fine. More importantly, how are you and Dad? I’m trying to clear my schedule so I can visit soon. I’ve tried to call Dad the last few nights, but he never answers his phone.”
Pete grimaced. He’d spent two years protecting Sky from finding out about their father’s drinking—convincing her to stay with him when she visited instead of with their father and intervening when she was planning a surprise visit.
“We’re both fine, but Dad’s pretty busy these days with the store. He’s been going to bed early.” He hated lying to her, but he worried that his father’s drinking might send her spiraling back into the dark place she’d found after their mother died. “Maybe you should wait a few more weeks to come visit.” The need to get his father help took a leap on his priority list.
Sky sighed. “Okay. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Sky. If you need anything, call me.”
“I always do.” She called him when she was missing their mother, or when a guy she was dating pissed her off—and it was all Pete could do not to drive to New York and kick the tar out of the guy.
A few minutes after they ended the call, the clock chimed, drawing his attention to where it hung on the wall beside the refrigerator. He’d managed to avoid thinking of Jenna and Jerko’s date while he was talking to Sky.Or at least to admit to myself that I was thinking of them.Now, as the seconds ticked by with annoyingly loud precision and Joey rested her chin between her paws with a loud sigh, adrenaline flooded Pete’s veins. How would Jenna protect herself if he tried something? What if he got her drunk and she was too out of it to defend herself? She had no idea what she was getting into with that guy. How could she? He was a stranger. Didn’t she learn anything in kindergarten?
He dug his keys from the pocket of his jeans and stared down at Joey. “I’ll just make sure she’s okay, girl. That’s it. I’ll be back in less than an hour. Promise.”
By the time he pulled into the parking lot of the Beachcomber, Pete had thought up all sorts of unsavory situations in his mind. No matter how they began, each ended with Jenna wrapping her arms around Pete’s neck, gushing with appreciation.
The Beachcomber was built at the top of a dune overlooking the ocean. Pete listened to the music coming from the deck at the back of the restaurant, which he knew was lit up with colorful plastic lights. Bands played nightly during the summer, and tonight the music was loud and the tune was surprisingly less beachy and more reminiscent of the seventies, soulful and deep.
Pete drew his shoulders back as he headed around to the other side of the restaurant. A gusty, cool breeze swept across the dunes, rustling the tall grass. He heard Jenna’s laugh before he caught sight of the wide smile that lit up her whole face. Jenna had a loud laugh that some might say sounded like a cackle. They’d be right. It did, and he could single it out anywhere—in a crowded bar, over a band, on a crowded beach—it was a laugh that always drew a smile from Pete, except tonight. His insides churned at the idea of her laughing with that construction worker instead of him. He ran his hand through his hair and looked away, realizing that he hadn’t even bothered to clean up after working on the boat for hours.
“Hey, babe. You coming in? I’d love a dance.” A stacked brunette ran her finger down his chest.
Summer chicks.Summer on the Cape brought horny women and loose men. Although even in the desolate winter months, there was never a shortage of women interested in Pete. He raked his eyes down the brunette’s body. He should have gotten aroused just thinking about that body against his, but the only body he wanted against him was Jenna’s. Jenna’s laugh pulled his attention across the deck.
“No, sorry. I’ll have to pass.” He circled the deck, moving toward the sound of Jenna’s voice.
“Jerk,” the woman mumbled as he walked away.
He lost track of Jenna as he rounded the dance floor, where half-naked twentysomethings clad in short shorts and bikini tops, or tank tops and board shorts, twerked and grinded against one another. He looked down at his black T-shirt, speckled with sawdust, and his dirty jeans, streaked with varnish and caulk. It was dark out, and the tiki lights weren’t that bright. He hoped no one would notice. He moved in closer just as Jenna pushed through the crowd, her hand trailing behind her, attached to Doophus.
Pete’s hands fisted and his eyes narrowed. Jenna turned and placed one hand on Doophus’s chest, the other still holding on to his hand. It took all of Pete’s focus to refrain from storming onto the dance floor, swooping her fine little body into his arms, and whisking her away.Forget this. I’m only here to make sure she’s okay, and she’s fine. She’s all-too fine.
Jenna turned, and their eyes caught. Her smile faded, and that befuddled look he knew too well fell into place like a mask—eyes wide, mouth agape. Her hand dropped from Doophus’s chest and she fidgeted with the edge of her skirt—and Pete found her reaction adorable.
Too stinkin’ adorable.
