Page 22 of Sweet Escape at Bayside
He lifted one shoulder, thinking that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree, and said, “Maybe nothing.” He guided her hands around his waist.
Amusement rose in her eyes. “Pretty sure of yourself right now?”
“When it comes to you, I’m sureonlyof myself, but that’s not going to slow me down. Have you ever heard that song that talks about not making things harder than they have to be?”
“Nope.” She smirked and said, “Is this when yousingto me? Because in case you’ve forgotten, I hate sappy stuff.”
“You don’t hate sappy stuff, but since you don’t like to admit that, this is when I suggest we get out of here for the evening. My bike was delivered today. Let’s go for a ride. You can show me your favorite haunts. Let me discover thenewyou. The you that puts down roots and tried unsuccessfully to forget me.” He brushed his lips over her cheek and felt her breathing quicken as he said, “What do you say, Violet? Want to see if we’re as good together here as we were overseas?”
“My haunts, my bike,” she said without moving a muscle, and helovedseeing her take control.
He slid his hand down her backside, holding her closer as he nipped her earlobe, and she moaned. “I see you’re still a control freak.”
“And I see you’re still pushy,” she said heatedly.
He drew back so he could see the fire in her eyes and said, “I look forward to breaking you of that habit…again.”
THIS IS A mistake, Violet thought as she cruised down the highway toward Harwich with Andre pressed against her back. How was she supposed to concentrate on anything other than how good it felt to be close to him again? Even through her leather jacket his body felt familiar and safe wrapped around hers. She had almost forgotten how much he called her on her crap, too—and how much she liked it. Some guys were all brawn and bullyish tactics. They were cold steel, while Andre was soft, worn leather, the kind she’d wanted to sink into from the first time she’d set eyes on him. His appeal had little to do with how he looked, regardless of the fact that he was insanely hot, and she was totally digging his longer hair, and the ink that reminded him of her. It was the understated strength and confidence he resonated that had drawn her in. His ability to soothe or take control with a single glance, a single sentence. When they’d met he was a busy physician with no time for bull—Trust me or trust me. There is no other option.It had taken him no time to strip her of all her defenses, though he’d done so with such artfulness, she’d never even seen it coming.
As they cruised along one of her favorite stretches of road forty-five minutes from Wellfleet, with woods on both sides and the man she craved like a drug wrapped around her, she was already lost in him. She’d tricked herself into believing they weren’t as real or powerful as they were, but he’d opened the gates, and now those emotions flooded her. She was riding a raging river ofAndre, and she wanted to let go of everything that grounded her and give herself over completely.
Holy cow…
He’d done it to her again, and he hadn’t even tried.
As she turned off the road and drove down another narrow street, her mind spinning, her body thrumming, she knew only one thing for sure.
She wasnotdriving home.
She cruised down the one-lane road that led to Common Grounds Coffeehouse. She parked out front of the unassuming café feeling a mix of nerves and relief. Like Justin’s studio, the coffeehouse had become another safe haven, one she’d kept private. Her friends at the inn didn’t even know she went there, but she’d never hidden anything from Andre. Well, until that fateful night when she’d left him behind. She hadn’t thought she was hiding then. She’d thought she was setting him free. Thehidinghad started only once she’d left, when she’d found the only way to keep her head above water was to keep herself busy enough and bury her feelings deep enough to hide from the thoughts of them that had the power to drown her.
Andre climbed off the bike, looking sexy in dark jeans and a simple white T-shirt beneath his leather jacket. He offered his hand as she climbed off the bike. Habit kept her from immediately accepting his unnecessary, though thoughtful offer, but desire brought her hand to his. It felt strange having him help her from the bike when her entire existence before and after him had been one of never looking for, asking for, or wanting help with a single thing.
He pulled off his helmet and his bangs tumbled to the edge of his brows. He raked his hand through his thick hair, brushing it casually away from his handsome face. As Violet removed her helmet, she wondered how she was going to do this. How could they start over when her heart and body wanted to dive in where they’d left off? She felt exposed and vulnerable, as if he could read her thoughts, and she hated that feeling. But no part of her wanted to run. She had a second chance with the man she loved, and who knew if he’d ever fully trust her again, or what would happen at the end of his stay, but she’d missed him too much to give up a chance at even a few weeks of happiness.
She set her helmet on the bike and reached for his.
“You don’t want to bring them in or lock them up?” he asked.
“No need. It’s not that kind of crowd around here.” She set his helmet beside hers.
As they headed inside, he didn’t take her hand or drape an arm over her shoulder. That made her even more nervous, but she knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
He held the door open as she walked inside, and they were greeted by Elliott Appleton’s broad smile. Elliott was twenty years old, with longish sandy-blond hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and a personality that was bigger than life. He also had Down syndrome, and he’d worked at his sister’s coffeehouse for several years, along with several other people with disabilities.
“Violet!” Elliott gave her a high five.
“Hey, handsome. How’s it going?”
Elliott pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose and said, “Great. Are you going to take the mic tonight?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, wondering if she’d have the courage to get up and speak in front of Andre.
Elliott leaned closer and said, “The guy behind you is checking you out. I’ll take care of him.” He stood up taller and glared at Andre.
Violet touched Andre’s arm and said, “It’s okay, El. He’s with me. Andre, meet my friend Elliott,host extraordinaire. He also bakes like a pro.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Andre offered a hand.
