Four Weddings and a Break Up (14 page)

Wes finally decided to stop in Just Desserts one afternoon, when thoughts of Ginny kept distracting him. He ended up driving over to the bakery, because he had some materials to sort at a blue Victorian he and his brothers had started remodeling this week. He told himself he was going to see her because Seth’s wedding was coming up.

He pulled into the parking lot. Just Desserts, the light pink building, looked like a confectioner’s delight and was perfect for a bakery. From outside, the aroma of freshly baked pastries wafted to his nostrils and tantalized him. Holy Mother of God, there was a heaven, and it was Just Desserts.

A bell tinkled when he walked in, announcing his arrival. The glass display cases held captive cookies, éclairs, tarts, cakes. It was obviously his duty to free some of them. It would be a hard task to do, but he was man enough for the job. He could not come here every day. If he did, he would easily pack on thirty pounds, if not more.

Julie smiled at him. “Hey, Wes. Hold on a minute. Ginny’s in the back making a chocolate ganache for this flan recipe I’m trying to perfect. I’ll just go get her.”

“Sounds good.” Wes took a chocolate chip cookie from the free sample tray. Oh, God. The cookie was so good—it was just the right amount of softness, and the chocolate practically melted in his mouth. And there had been something else to the cookie, almost like root beer.

“What was in that?” he asked when Julie came back out with Ginny in tow.

“I decided to put some root beer in the recipe to try it out. You liked?”

“Obviously.” Wes turned his attention to Ginny. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“Oh, it’s okay. It often happens when people eat Julie’s baked goods. They’re almost transported to another world.”

Julie rolled her eyes. “Yeah. You are too much, but I’ll take the compliment all the same. Maybe if you’re still around when the chocolate flan is done, I’ll have you sample it, Wes.”

“Well, someone’s got to do it.”

Julie laughed, shaking her head. “Okay, Mr. Dangerous.”

“Huh?”

“Julie!” Ginny smacked her sister on the arm.

Julie reddened. “Well, I’ll just be going in the back for a bit.”

After Julie disappeared, Wes looked at Ginny. “Mr. Dangerous?”

“It was a nickname I gave you at the bar that night.” Ginny turned a delightful pink. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Me?” He widened his eyes, affecting innocence. “Never.”

She shook her head, then bit her lip, as if debating something. “I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

More like a few weeks.

“I know. I’m sorry about that. I had to deal with some things in Atlantic City, and then I got busy here with family and work stuff.”

“I sort of figured that. Anyways, it wasn’t like either of us had anything going on.”

His eyebrows drew together, his forehead furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

She leaned her elbows on the counter and gave a laugh. “Oh, come on, Wes. Don’t play stupid with me. There were no obligations where we needed to be seen together. You know, the whole fake dating thing. The reason why we’re even ‘together’ in the first place.”

“Don’t you think you should lower your voice?”

“Are you worried about Julie finding out and spilling our cover?” Ginny straightened. “She already knows. She figured it out the night I told my mom. Julie knows I haven’t been dating anyone. Did you really expect me to fool my sister?”

“I’m fooling my brothers. I thought we were in this together. Like our secret club.”

“What’s our secret handshake? Getting off on each other?”

He drew back, insulted. “Hey, I told you that we could stop. Both times. You could have said ducks at any point. Why are you mad at me, anyway? I told you why I was gone. You’re acting like such a girl.”

“And you’re acting like such a boy,” she returned hotly. “How hard is it for you to have told me that you were going away? Just a, hey here’s the info, etc. I thought we were friends.”

“We
are
friends. I think you’re overreacting.”

Ginny let out a frustrated sound and then swore. “You say you’re my friend. You say you can handle anything. You kiss me. You touch me. You pleasure me. And then you disappear without a word.”

“Wait just a minute. It’s not like we have that type of relationship.”

She drew back, insulted. “You’re right. We don’t have that type of relationship. But I thought we were supposed to be friends.”

“We are frie—”

“Friends don’t do that,” she said hotly. “When did you return?”

“A week or so ago.”

She tapped her foot. “And you didn’t call.”

“Ginny, I was busy. Like you said, there was no reason to hang with each other. We
are
friends, but we’re just in this to help each other out. At the end of August, I’m leaving. None of this is real.”

A wounded expression flashed across her face. She gave a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “God. You’re so right. I’m such a girl. None of this is real. It’s all fake. I forget sometimes that it’s not
Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus
but Men are From an Alternative Universe, Women are From Venus.”

“That sounded like an insult.”

“It is what it is.” Ginny took a deep breath. “I don’t know if we’re friends, Wes. You and I have a different definition of the word.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Her hands fisted at her hips. “The only reason you came in here was because you want me to attend something with you.”

He glanced away, guiltily.

“I’m right.” Bright spots of red flamed in her cheeks. “So what is it?”

“Seth’s getting married next weekend. You owe me, Ginny. I went to dinner at your mom’s house. Tit for tat.”

She looked at him like he was the vilest person on the face of the Earth. Maybe he was, but he didn’t need her to judge him. This fake relationship was supposed to take the heat off both of them. It was never supposed to be serious. Ginny was the one to insist upon the rules in the first place. So why was she acting hurt when he was being honest? Sure, she might be fun to hang around, and he found her incredibly hot, but that was all lust. Right?

“Oh, I’ll be there with bells and whistles on. You can count on that. Now go away before I say anything else I’ll regret later on.”

“Ginny. Maybe I should have called you,” he conceded. “But I honestly didn’t think we had to do that. No strings, remember?”

“Wes. Just leave me alone.”

“Fine.” And he left, without another word or glance behind.

G
inny opened
her front door to see Wes, in bathing suit trunks and a gray t-shirt. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re going to the beach.”

“
We
?” Ginny was still smarting from the fight they had a few days ago, from what he had said to her, and what she had voiced. She didn’t like losing control of her emotions, and the fact that she’d lost her temper with Wes, someone she’d known for a short time, bothered her. “
You
might be headed there.
I’m
not.”

“Can I at least come in?”

She curled her hand around the door, placing the other on the doorframe. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“You’re still mad at me, I take it.”

Um, duh.
“I don’t know what I am.” She was madder at herself than anything for overreacting, for being such a stupid girl because he hadn’t called.

“So, I’m really sorry for what I said. I’m a guy. It comes with the territory. I want to make it up to you.”

She loosened her grip on the door and let him in. “How?”

“I’m sorry for how I acted a couple of days ago. There really is no excuse for it. Stuff isn’t great with my dad.” Wes told her what had happened, and Ginny’s heart gave a little lurch.

“Oh, Wes, I’m so sorry.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “I was just so mad at you for not calling and for saying those things. But you’re right. This is only pretend, and I—”

She stopped. They had both apologized for what had happened, but she couldn’t forget his words so easily. Arguments often brought out the truth of what a person was feeling. She had been fooling herself, thinking that anything between them was real. That he wanted her. Of course, he’d act on his desires. He was a man, after all.

That wasn’t fair to him, to lump into one broad generalization. It wasn’t right of her to judge him like that; she didn’t like when it was done to her. Still, it wasn’t going to be easy for her to brush it off or to even trust him. Was there anyone she trusted with the whole unvarnished truth?

No
.

That answer frightened her because something had to give—she had to start trusting again or she wouldn’t grow as a person. She wouldn’t become better and find that man who loved her for herself. She worried that if she continued to keep everything inside that she might break—and this time, she wouldn’t recover.

Ginny shook her head. She wasn’t going to break. That wasn’t her. She had compartmentalized her life into two easy parts. Before Shooting and After Shooting. Anything and everything that was remotely related to the Shooting, she put it in the After Shooting department and moved on.

She was perfectly fine. She had survived. She had a life. She had her mom and sister. And she had Wes even if it was based on total fakery. She didn’t want to think about this anymore. Pretending was so much better than remembering.

She got up. “Let me get ready. Just give me a few, and we can head to the beach.”

W
es was worried about her
, and he’d gone and screwed it up. They both had. Now they had lost some ground. He could see it in her eyes that she was holding something back—that she didn’t trust him as she once had. How could he blame her? He was shying away, wanting to keep this thing between them in its compartment. Not wanting to feel anything for her.

Except after he’d left the bakery, their fight gnawed at him like a dog with a bone. He had replayed their conversation in his head. Ginny wasn’t looking for real from him—she didn’t want to be with him. So this was still safe.

It was better this way. That they were only “together” in the barest definition of the word. Except that seemed so hollow and wrong. Even though their relationship was fake to the world, they had been real to each other.

What exactly did he want?

That was simple. He wanted to be in this fake relationship and be her friend. But that was it. So no more jerking her around. That wasn’t fair to her. If he was going to be her friend, he couldn’t back away like he had. He had to change—and that was going to be hard. Ginny wasn’t the only one who had problems. He had trust issues himself—he had things he needed to work out, too.

He’d broken up with his ex-girlfriend because she wanted marriage. And he didn’t. Though Wes and Megan had never moved in together, they were practically at each other’s places every other day. Getting married would be the next logical step to their relationship. Except he couldn’t imagine being married to her.

And he didn’t believe in the “forever” thing. Love didn’t last. Wes only had to look at his mom’s marriage to his dad. Apparently, at one time, they’d been crazy about each other. Then Dad had gone and cheated, and his mom would not—and could not—forgive him for the transgression. Especially when Dad had fallen in love with the other woman. They’d divorced, and Dad, a short while later, had gone on to marry her, having Jake, Seth, and TJ.

Even that second marriage hadn’t lasted. Dad and Nancy had divorced almost fourteen years ago, which had surprised all of them. Nancy had simply just said there had been irreconcilable differences and refused to speak ill of her ex-husband to her sons. Despite Nancy being the other woman, Wes had slowly grown to like her.

Most of it had been from his mom’s insistence, saying that even if Dad were a cheating scumbag, she still wanted Wes to have a relationship with his brothers. She never wanted him to cut himself off from his dad because he’d fallen in love and married someone else. Of course, Mom had cursed like a sailor when she’d said this. Wes smiled, even as pain fisted his heart. God, he still missed his mom. He always would.

Ginny came out of her bedroom, a coral kimono-styled cover up over a black bathing suit, a tote bag over one shoulder. She cocked her head to one side, studying him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He stood. “I’m fine. Just thinking. Let’s go.”

G
inny woke
up under the shade of the umbrella and sat up on the lounge chair. She yawned and blinked lazily. Wes wasn’t here. Where had he gone? Maybe he went to buy lunch or something.

Ginny reached for her water bottle and drank the rest of it. She was still thirsty, so she got up, stretching her arms overhead, and then adjusted her coral cover-up. He could tease her all he wanted, but there was no way she was taking this off.

She opened the cooler and got out an ice-cold water bottle. Uncapping it, she took a long drink as she watched people frolic in the ocean and. She spotted some dolphins’ fins dipping in and out of the waves.

A breeze brought welcome relief against the heat. The water would be cool and maybe, she would go into the ocean after all. And take off her cover-up. It wasn’t like she had the worst body on this beach, and Wes had seen her sort of naked. She was about to sit down when she spotted Wes. He was coming out of the ocean, walking up to the beach, back to her.

Water clung to his muscles, the ripped six-pack abs, the broad shoulders and brawny arms, to his long, strong legs. Droplets glistened on his hard chest, the sun bronzing his skin as if trying to mold him into a permanent statue. His hair was wet, black silk, and she had this sudden urge to drag her fingers through those strands and to pull his mouth to hers . . . to lick all the water off him from head to toe, and then work her way up again.

She was hot, in more ways than one, by the time he finally reached their umbrella.

He was so close yet so far. All those hard, rough muscles were just right there, inches away, begging for her touch. She was mesmerized by the sight of one teardrop of water that streaked its way from his collarbone down the long line of his chest. He wasn’t a hairy man, thank god. But he was still a man, and his chest showed that, with its dusting of hair that made him Mr. Dangerous.

Her throat went dry. She needed . . . water. Yes, that’s what she needed. A cool drink to break her out of this long, hot summer fantasy. But reaching for her water meant looking away from him. And that seemed almost criminal. Punishable by death.

Plus, why hadn’t
he
moved away? Why was he still standing there, dripping wet? Didn’t he know that she was on the verge of doing very bad things to him?

His eyes darkened.

Oh, maybe he did.

This was madness. And it needed to stop.
Think of the ducks,
she told herself. Think about the fight. Think of the form of the Shakespearean sonnet. Just think of
something
.

She forced herself to look away, and she busied herself by drinking some more water. She heard him walk to his lounge chair.

“You should go in. The water’s really nice.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. He still hadn’t picked up the towel to dry himself off. The heat was doing that for him.

He took a step forward. “I was coming back up here to see if you wanted to get wet.”

She was already wet.

“I’m not sure . . .”

“C’mon. Have some fun, Ginny.” His eyes and tone whispered the type of seductive fun they would be having.

She was tempted. Oh, how she was tempted. Except they had just made up, and she was still feeling a little vulnerable. While they had kissed in the past, she had managed to keep those short and from not going any further. Except for that time in his SUV.

If she yielded now, she might as well sign up to be his sex slave. Which, hey, she usually wouldn’t object to that—to having just a fun time with Wes. But she knew where things stood. This wasn’t real. They were just friends, which was enough. Or so she tried to convince herself. Having sex with him—again—would be a huge mistake. Because she wanted more than he was willing to give.

So she gave him a smile as she sat back on her lounge chair. “I don’t think so.”

O
n their way back
, Ginny asked him if they could stop in at the bakery. Of course he said yes. He had never been able to buy those desserts he’d wanted when he had stopped in a couple days ago, mainly because he and Ginny had fought. They pulled in, smelling like salt and sand, his hair still wet from the surf. Ginny had put on a pair of sweat capris, and her coral cover-up was slightly damp, making it almost transparent. He could see the black outline of her swimsuit, the shelf bra pushing up her generous breasts.

He forced his gaze away, turned off his SUV, and pocketed the keys. “Are we going to be here long?”

“No. I just wanted to check in. I promised Julie that I would do some copyedits and figure out some PR opportunities.”

“I didn’t know you did that.”

“Oh, it’s just for fun,” she said. “I just like to write things up. When Just Desserts opened, it became a game almost to see what places I could call up and nab for an article, an interview . . . any publicity I could think of. It’s exciting to do that sort of thing. It’s a lot of behind the scenes and figuring out what does and doesn’t work. I have this strong competitive streak I keep hidden. I want Julie to be successful and happy and all of that.”

He was seeing her in new lights every moment he spent in her company. She was fascinating. And dangerous. “That’s nice of you.”

They entered the bakery, and she went into the back to get the needed materials from Julie. Wes busied himself by ordering some cookies and pastries that a twenty-something, red-haired man wrapped up for him. Ginny came out with Julie following close behind.

“I wanted to tell you this the other day but completely forgot,” Julie said. “I saw Mom and Grant kissing.”

“Really?” Ginny paused, expecting to feel the old hurt there. There was nothing. She wanted her mom happy, and if Grant did that, then that’s all what mattered. Love was possible, and she was glad her mother had found it again.

“Who’s Grant?” Wes asked.

“Grant is the gardener-slash-all-around handyman.”

“He’s sexy,” Julie put in, “for a much older guy, of course.”

“Scottish. Gorgeous,” Ginny said in agreement. “Left Edinburgh after his wife died and traveled across the U.S., working in various spots, before landing here.”

“I didn’t know all of that,” Julie said with a little huff.

Ginny shrugged, carelessly. She might have interrogated Grant one evening, but that was between her and Grant. “It happens when you just let people talk and listen. They tell you stuff.”

Julie punched Ginny in her shoulder. “I listen.”

Wes was impressed and slightly terrified.

A furrowed line appeared on Ginny’s forehead. “But I never suspected he and Mom were getting that serious.”

“I think it’s great,” Julie said. “She needs to get out there again. Don’t you think?”

“I suppose so.” Ginny smiled at Julie. “Plus, you just have a thing for guys with accents.”

“Do I ever!” Julie turned to Wes, her bright blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders. “We often joke that I’m the United Nations of Dating.”

“Hell, you can be the Statue of Liberty. ‘Give me your tired—’”

“There is no ‘tired’ involved. Whatsoever.”

“We should change the subject,” Ginny said. “We’re probably boring Wes with all our—”

“No. Not at all.” He wasn’t bored; he was fascinated. Sure, he had visited Cape Hope for a week or two in the summer as a kid, but Wes had never stayed long enough to have that closeness to his brothers. In many ways, he felt like an outsider in his own family. But that was going to change.

The phone rang, and Julie went in the back to answer it. Ginny and he were about to leave when the door opened, the bell tinkling once again. Wes instinctively turned around and saw a muscular man, of medium height, with short, brown, graying hair and light blue eyes. His face looked worn and beaten up by life. He was wearing faded jeans and an army green t-shirt.

Ginny gasped behind him, and Wes felt her fingers clench the back of his shirt. He could feel her trembling. He frowned at the guy, wondering how this man made Ginny react so strongly and in such a frightened manner.

The guy came forward, ignored Ginny, and stopped inches before him. “You Wes Dalton?” His Jersey accent was a sharp bark, his eyes narrowed. “I’m David DePaul.”

G
inny shook
. Trembled. Whatever verb that meant scared shitless, that’s what she was at this exact moment. David had never done anything to her. He’d always edged on the fine side of the law. Never crossed any boundaries. But she didn’t like to be around him. It was near impossible to avoid anyone in Cape Hope, but somehow she and David had managed to do so. Until now.