His Kind of Wonderful (Sugar Bay #2) (7 page)

“And you—” He poked Joe in the chest. “We’re going a couple of rounds in the ring you like so much. I’ll give you a free nose job to help fix that crooked nose you have.”

Dani stepped between them. “
You will most certainly not
! He’s your best friend!”

“That’s exactly the point. I know all about him and he’s not the guy for you.”

Dani was tired of Derek always knowing what was right for her.

“Too bad because we’ve started seeing each other. We’re both adults so you’ll have to deal with it. And I don’t want to hear about a grudge match either.” She felt Joe’s presence behind her and it gave her strength. “Don’t make me call Anabelle.” She glared at her brother then grabbed her leather satchel from the desk drawer and rummaged for her keys. “Now. I need to pick Esme up from ballet but I’ll be back. I expect you to remember Joe is your best friend for a reason. And you—” she poked Joe’s chest. “I’ll see later.”

She started to walk away before she turned back and pulled Joe’s head down to her level. She kissed him once on the lips. It lasted longer than the buss he’d given her at Charlie’s but not long enough to warrant tongues or shared spit. The bonus was the look of shock she spied on both Derek and Joe’s faces as she stormed away.

***

Joe felt pole axed by the brief kiss Dani had given him but caught the tail end of her muttering, ‘First Professor Higgins and now Joe—I’m a grown ass woman and I’ll make my own damn decisions.”

Silence descended between the long time friends once the front door banged shut behind Dani.

“What the hell?”

“Now, Derek—“

“That was fucking brilliant, man!”

“Come again?” The kiss must have short-circuited his brain and fried his hearing.

“I love it!”

“You love?”

“The way you distracted Dani away from Professor Perv!”

“Right.” He nodded like an imbecile. Not the reaction he’d expected. He was certain he’d need to talk Derek down. He shook his head. Dealing with the Wheaton siblings was baffling. Joe felt a pain in his gut as well but that may have been from the damn jalapenos he’d piled on his Philly Cheesesteak earlier.

“Although that’s not
exactly
what I had in mind, we can work with it.” Derek grinned, looking pleased. He had his arms crossed over his chest. “Just don’t be too nice, I don’t want my sister falling for you,” he warned.

“Of course not.” He was quick to reassure.

“You’re a charmer but don’t be too charming to her. Just distract her away until Professor Perv moves on to his next conquest and leaves my sister the hell alone.”

“Will do.” Joe nodded. Glad his friend had taken it so well. “So you weren’t the least bit worried?”

“Nah. You’re my best friend. I knew you wouldn’t make a move on my sister without a reason.” Derek thumped him on the back—the guy equivalent of a hug.

Joe felt guilty at his lustful thoughts regarding Dani and vowed to cleanse his mind of those thoughts.

“Glad you don’t plan on giving me a free nose job. Although, I’m pretty sure I’d kick your ass.”

“Says you.”

“Because it’s true—but since I know Anabelle likes that ugly ass face of yours so much, I won’t. Wouldn’t be fitting seeing as I like her cooking and my open invitation to dinner at your place.”

Derek chuckled. “You are such a food whore.”

“Says the guy with a wife who knows how to cook. It’s obvious you’ve forgotten the lean years of a single man.”

“Nah. I just learned how to cook.”

“So did I but there’s something about a home cooked meal—the food taste better or something.”

“Then get yourself a girlfriend. Or better yet, get a wife.”

“The hell you say.” The face he made must have been something else because Derek laughed long and hard.

He shook his head at his friend’s imitation of a braying ass. “Not cool, man. Not cool. I’m out.”

Once out the door, Joe sighed in relief. It had worked out better than he’d thought. Now it wouldn’t be long before Lisa gave up her asinine attempts at seduction, especially when she realized he and Dani were serious. This was his last hope and it had to work.

The important matter remaining was how to withstand temptation. Derek had faith in Joe’s sense of honor concerning Dani and Joe couldn’t let him down. Derek was correct in warning him away from Dani. The guy was no fool. He knew Joe wasn’t good enough for Dani and Joe knew it as well.

But how the hell was he supposed to be around her more without wanting her? Wearing a blindfold would be too obvious and he didn’t think Dani would go for wearing a potato sack. Although that might not help anyway because he’d still see her gorgeous face, her hair, her laughing eyes and that smile.

He shook his head—just thinking about her smile.

He was fucked.

That was all there was to it.

***

“You’re a good boy, Joe.”

He jerked awake, certain he’d heard Aunt Eugenia but knew it was his imagination. Aunt Eugenia wasn’t coming back and he wasn’t a good boy—not even close. He sprawled back on the bed and closed his eyes. The brush of her hand across his cheek had felt real. It had been her habit to stroke his cheek when she’d been alive.

The fan clicked above him. The steady drone accompanied the sound of the waves from the Gulf as it rolled in beyond the dunes. He inhaled the salty air. By habit, he’d left the sliding glass door open because he loved the sound of the water so much. It was one of the things he’d missed while away. Maybe the wind had been the cause of his imagined ‘touch’.

He tossed off the thin bed sheet and got up. It was still dark outside but he liked running at this time. He pulled on a gray pair of running shorts and an old Metallica t-shirt, then slipped on his shoes and tied them. He grabbed his music and selected a pulse pounding playlist before slipping on his ear buds. He made his way across the protective dunes and headed north.

Joe inhaled the distinctive tang of the Gulf and ran past seaweed and the random dead jellyfish littering the shores near Aunt Eugenia’s cottage. Technically it was his but it shouldn’t have been. It seemed wrong to keep it but when he thought about contacting a realtor, something stopped him.

Aunt Eugenia had been the one person in the world who’d believed in him and he’d let her down. He’d left her to die alone. Even though it felt wrong to benefit from her death, he loved the cottage. The majority of his best childhood memories were here. The others were from around the MacKinnon home.

He picked up his pace. The sky had lightened and he nodded at the assorted early risers that walked along the beach. The photographer was scheduled to come by today but not until later in the afternoon. He was glad because it allowed him a few hours to work in his garage studio.

Joe passed a family setting up camp for the day. The kids were building sandcastles with the white powder sand that made Sugar Bay famous. Their bodies were plastered in sunblock while behind them the dad anchored their shade tent and the mom unpacked their wagonload of beach gear. Sugar Bay had a brisk cottage rental business along the water so, no doubt, they were tourists.

Sweat ran down his face and body, and made his clothes stick but he enjoyed the solitary time running provided. It allowed him to sort through the shit he needed to get done as well as work out any lingering problems.

Sleep hadn’t come easily last night. He’d spent too long tossing and turning. Thoughts of Dani filled him. He’d texted her a reminder about the photo shoot and she’d responded to say she’d come after her appointment. Yet when he asked if her appointment was with Professor Perv, she hadn’t responded.

Damn, he hated the way she got under his skin. The next few weeks would be tricky. Dani was prickly at best but he needed her cooperation. He couldn’t afford any distractions and was weak where she was concerned.

He knew in order to be proactive about avoiding the temptation that was Dani, he needed to avoid touching her completely—no more rubbing her shoulders or trying to get her to relax and getting her used to his touch.

Fuck that shit. Too dangerous.

He knew if he touched her a little, he’d end up touching her more than a little, like the last few times. Each time had started out innocently and the next thing he knew he’d had less than innocent thoughts that bordered on the distinctly impure. He’d had to run off like a damn fool each time—first to fix her car, then to avoid staying for dinner.

He was afraid all that touching would morph into him doing all the nasty things he’d dreamt of doing to and with her. Somehow, he didn’t think Derek would care for that at all.

So the first line in his defense strategy was to avoid touching—at all cost. Then maybe he’d have a chance to last through the situation with his sanity and his friendship with Derek in tact.

It was all crazy Lisa’s fault and she’d be here with the photographer today as the committee’s marketing liaison. The thought of her in his aunt’s house irritated the shit out of him. He slowed and stripped off his shirt. He tossed it on the sand then toed off his sneakers and socks and walked toward the water. He winced when he stepped in. It was April, they’d had warm days but some days were still brisk and the water was on the cool side. He moved deeper then dove into an incoming wave. When he surfaced, he swam along the shore to stretch and cool his body down.

He loved the beach, had lived here with his aunt for most of his childhood. Sugar Bay was a great town and he saw that now as an adult, but as a child, he’d hated it. He’d hated the fishbowl aspect. He’d hated being stuck with a label that couldn’t be shaken.

Maybe that was why his friendship with Derek was so important. Derek didn’t look at him as the snot nosed kid of the town loser. He didn’t remember him as the kid who wore cast offs, who’d depended on the generosity of others for holiday gifts or back to school supplies.

When he was very young, he hadn’t minded it but then the teasing had begun. Then he hadn’t forgotten it. Although many kids looked past his clothes even if they recognized it as their old castoffs, some kids were born assholes and would probably die as assholes. They were the ones who took pleasure in loudly claiming their generosity. A brand new Members Only jacket was part of one year’s donations. It still had the original tag on it. Sure, the color had been different but he’d worn the thing proudly. At least until Tom LaCaze had boasted he’d donated it because his mom had bought the wrong color.

Joe remembered burning with shame. He’d wanted to burn the damn thing but Aunt Eugenia hadn’t allowed him to. That episode spurred his entrepreneurial skills. He’d cut grass, walked dogs, anything and everything to earn extra money. Finally he’d made enough for a bike, which had been his ticket to freedom.

Joe headed back to shore and dragged his ass out of the water. He grabbed his stuff and walked towards the boardwalk that led to the cottage. He set his stuff down next to the outdoor shower he’d rigged on his private deck. It wasn’t much more than a garden hose hooked up to a rain soaker but it had some semblance of privacy and allowed him to get the sand off so he wouldn’t track it inside.

“Shit.” The water was colder than the Gulf and he hurried through his frigid shower. He dried off with a towel he’d left on the pegboard hooks he’d installed. With the towel knotted around his hip, Joe dropped his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and went inside for sustenance.

His cottage wasn’t fancy, definitely not tricked out like many of the cottages around him, but it had everything he needed—it was old school, made mostly of wood with soft, cotton throws scattered about. The paint had long since faded but nowadays people called it rustic chic—a more kind term than old-as-shit. But it was clean and paid for since the cottage had been passed down through his aunt’s family. It had taken the majority of his aunt’s pension to pay for the property taxes when he was a kid.

He rooted through the refrigerator for some milk and eggs and made an omelet. Aunt Eugenia had been his mom’s maiden aunt. An artist with no husband or kids, she’d taken him in without a thought and had done her best to mother him. After life with his single dad where the only baked goods he’d inhaled had the name Little Debbie printed on them, he’d soaked it up, loved the homemade cookies, apple pies and cakes she’d concocted in her tiny kitchen. Maybe that was why Charlie’s Decadent Den was his third home. It reminded him of his aunt.

Johnny James hadn’t been a bad guy; he’d just been weak. His good-looking face had given him advantages with the ladies, no doubt. But since he’d given his heart to his high school sweetheart, Joe’s mom, and had died when she’d died, he’d been pretty much useless thereafter. Johnny or JJ, as he’d been called, found comfort in whisky and women. It had been unfortunate his last choice in a companion already had a husband who happened to own a very large gun collection. The guy had taken exception to JJ banging his wife in his own bed and claimed self-defense. It hadn’t matter that JJ had been naked and the only thing he’d been pounding had been the female moaning in pleasure beneath him. The poor son of a bitch was shot and promptly labeled a deviant intruder by the remaining parties involved.

The town had dined on it for years.

Yeah.

Life in a small town.

Dani stopped Thelma on a shell-crushed drive in front of a little cottage. She’d never been to Joe’s place but had heard about it through Derek and Anabelle. Palmettos, Hibiscus bushes and Bougainvillea grew all around the cottage, which had a rustic appeal. She got out of the car and grabbed the yellowed notecard from the passenger seat.

Life is too short to wait.

The note had been tucked into the lunch bag that she’d picked up after her morning errands. Tyler was a sweet kid. If only he was older, she’d be all over him. He seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear.

The note was a sign. A green light for the plan she’d brainstormed last night.
Life was short
, no doubt, and she needed to tell Joe about her proposal. If he didn’t go for it, she’d find another expert.