Page 3 of Sweet Passions at Bayside
She waved a hand dismissively. “Of course! I needed toothpaste. Anyway, I like the way it smells, and it’s good to know you take care of yourself in ways other than just building these bad boys up.” She ran her hands over his bulbous biceps and he gritted his teeth. She laughed and patted his cheek. “You look like you want to growl at me.”
Having grown up with three older brothers, she got along better with guys than girls and had always had more guy friends than girlfriends. She’d learned at a young age that guys had a hard time holding anything back. If he wanted to growl, she’d let him growl.
“Something like that,” he said under his breath.
She followed him into the living room. “Why is your stuff in there anyway and not in the master bathroom?”
“Only one bathroom in the house.”
“Really? Why?”
“I don’t know. Why would a single guy need more than one bathroom? More importantly, I thought you weren’t coming up until next week. What happened?”
Ever since Desiree moved away and she and Dean had become friends, Emery had felt like her life was here now, too. “I felt like I was waiting for water to boil, and I was so excited to come and start my life here, and see you, Des, Vi, and Serena and everyone else, I said the heck with it!” Serena ran the administrative offices of the resort Dean co-owned with Rick and Rick’s brother, Drake. “And here I am! But with the traffic, I can’t get to Desiree’s, and she said it could be backed up for hours. Something about changeover day?”
“With only one road on and off the Cape, it’s one big traffic jam on changeover days. Saturdays are the worst, but Sundays can be a headache, too.”
“Do you know a back road to her place?”
He turned, brows knitted. “I can take you over on the Jet Ski.”
“Oh, fun!” Her excitement deflated as quickly as it had arrived. “But then I can’t bring my stuff.”
“Why don’t you hang out here and help me in my yard? We’ll throw something on the grill for dinner, and you can go over when the traffic clears.”
“You must landscapeallthe time. Your yard looks like it belongs in a magazine.”
“Thanks.” He shrugged and said, “Gotta do what you love, right?”
She knew that in addition to being co-owner of the resort, Dean maintained a few clients with his own landscape business—the hospital where he used to work as a trauma nurse and the local assisted living facility, where he worked in the gardens with the residents. Emery liked to tease him about his elderly fan club. Dean was great at keeping his emotions close to his chest, which made him difficult to read sometimes, but whether they were texting or talking on the phone, his passion for his work always came through loud and clear.
“Very true.” She loved what she did for a living, but lately she’d craved more than the yoga classes she’d been teaching at a gym since leaving the rehab center. She hoped one day to return to being a yoga back-care specialist and to turn her passion for yoga back care into something more meaningful. But those were plans for another time.
One major life event at a time.
To distract herself from her thoughts, she focused on Dean’s cottage. She took in the hardwood floors and wood-paneled walls that ran the length of the open living room and kitchen, which were separated only by a table for two. A black cast-iron oven and cooktop and fridge complemented earth-toned granite countertops atop rustic wood cabinets. Long, rough-hewn wooden shelves held dishes and cups, giving the place the brawny feel of a bachelor pad.
“I saw glimpses of your place when we FaceTimed and Skyped, but”—like seeing you in person again—“experiencing it firsthand has a much stronger impact. This is incredible. So earthy and rugged. I love it.” She ran her fingers over the simple oak table.
“Thanks. This is the original house built on the property. When I renovated, I wanted to preserve the rustic feel, so I used old, sun-bleached scaffold boards for the walls and floors. Check this out. It’s my favorite feature.” He went to the wall that faced the kitchen, unhooked something near the top and then near the bottom, and slid the entire wallintothe living room wall, like he would a pocket door. “These are barn doors I repurposed from another property.”
At least ten or fifteen feet of wall space disappeared before her eyes, opening the small kitchen to a magnificent trellis-covered patio, with potted plants overflowing with life on top of enormous rocks, like the one Dean had been carrying when she arrived. Comfortable-looking rockers and two oversized loungers had a gorgeous view of more impeccable gardens.
“Wow, Dean. I’ve never seen anything like this.” She followed him outside, where low stone walls lined either side of the patio. A fireplace anchored one end, and she spied the telltale wooden stall of an outdoor shower just beyond. Her gaze swept along the gorgeous pavers, and she imagined how wonderful it would be to meditate there in the early mornings, when the rest of the world was asleep. She’d seen the hardscaping he’d done at the resort, but this was even more breathtaking.
They walked along a rocky path between two garden beds. She recognized some of the flowers and was happy to see roses and lavender, which she could use to steep tea. As they wound through the path surrounded by vibrant flowers, with the sun shining down on them, it felt like she’d stepped into his private paradise.
“Sort of coaxes you into thinking about a simpler lifestyle, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“Definitely. If I lived here, I might never want to leave. But what landscaping are you doing? Everything already looks gorgeous.”
His hand pressed against her back as he guided her around a wall of bushes. She’d forgotten how often he’d done that the weekend they’d met, and how nice it felt. Most guys just said they’d show her something and expected her to follow. Her burly buddy might look standoffish to some, but he was the most gentlemanly guy she knew.
“Thank you for letting me use your bathroom and hang out for a while.” She put her arms around his waist and hugged him. His entire body felt like one giant muscle. His hand moved up her back, returning the embrace. It wasn’t the rushed embrace of a man looking to get lucky—which she was all too familiar with. It was a gentle yet powerful loving embrace that spoke volumes about their close friendship, and it made her feel like she’d come home instead of having left it all behind.
“Anytime, doll,” he said. “And if it’ll earn me hugs, then use my bathroom as often as you’d like.”
They walked around more garden beds, and nestled between a rock garden and a grassy area with lounge chairs and a small table, there was a patch of tilled earth with all sorts of weeds growing around the edges.
