Slammed (12 page)

“Yeah.” Matt shrugged. “It actually feels pretty good.”

“You’ve been living together for what…a year?”

“Yeah. Just over.”

“Obviously it’s working.”

Matt’s eyes searched his and he nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

“I’m happy for you, man,” Dylan said. “Seriously.” And with a feeling of warmth unfurling inside him, he realized…he meant it.

The back door opened and Corey walked in. Her gaze fell immediately on Dylan. He smiled at her. “Hi, Cor.”

She paused, holding a brown paper bag in her arms, her wavy hair in shades of honey and caramel flowing over her shoulders, her little nose dusted with gold freckles, as pretty as ever. She studied him for a few seconds, her expressive face not hiding her emotions at all—a hint of nerves, affection, relief. She turned to Matt, handed him the bag and moved toward Dylan for a hug.

His heart hammering, he set down his beer on the counter and enfolded her in his arms. She smelled like the candy she made, sweet and chocolaty, her wavy hair tickling his arms, and he held her and breathed her in. She felt good, slender yet soft, and he gave one last squeeze before releasing her to look down into her face.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said softly.

He nodded, smiling. “Of course I came.”

“There’s no of course about it,” she said, her gaze moving over his face. Trust her to say what they were all thinking. “I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

And once again, determination that he was not going to turn this reunion into something all full of drama and tension filled him. He was not going to ruin something as important as their wedding with his own issues. It had to be him who set the tone for this meeting, and yet he had to be honest. “Hey. It’s been a while. I’m good, Cor.” He touched a finger to the tip of her nose.

“I’m so glad.”

Dylan glanced at Matt, looking for any signs of jealousy. He saw none, just Matt standing there watching, smiling faintly. Which was pretty damn amazing. After all, Dylan had slept with the guy’s fiancée.

This could have been,
should
have been awkward, the three of them meeting up again like this. But dammit, he did not want them feeling sorry for him. And he really did want them to be happy. So he fought down that tension inside him and kept his smile firmly in place. He reached for the beer.

“I’ll open the wine,” Matt said, setting the bag on the counter with a clink of bottle. “Which one do you want, Candy Girl?”

Corey smiled and moved toward him. “The cold one. I’ll put the other in the fridge.”

She slid her arms around Matt’s waist and hugged him, and Matt bent his head to kiss her mouth. Dylan watched and smiled, his insides tightening a little at their display of affection. He leaned against the counter and drank his beer.

They were good together. No, they were perfect together. They always had been.

He’d thought a lot about it at first when he’d left, his head all fucked up because of Corey and Matt and his busted foot and crazy fears. Mostly because of his crazy fears, if he was honest. He’d known he had no choice but to leave, alone. Leaving them together. At first he wasn’t sure if they were going to figure things out. It had been clear to him that they were both crazy in love with each other. It hadn’t been so clear to them. But the very next time he’d heard from Matt, via email, was to learn that they’d moved in together. So yeah, they’d figured things out.

Dylan had both wanted that and feared it.

He had to admit that hearing that news had thrown him a little, but deep inside he knew it was the right way for things to go. And now, back here again, watching them together without even a little bit of that pain that had eaten away at him for months after he left, he knew…he was over it.

He really was.

Why was it that suddenly it all didn’t seem so dramatic? Almost as though he’d been all worked up over nothing.

“So tell us about this girl,” Matt said, pouring wine into a glass for Corey.

Dylan let the warm feeling inside him expand, let it loosen his tense muscles, and he laughed. “Brooke,” he said, taking pleasure in saying her name, remembering their time together.

“You said she lives here? How the hell did you meet up with someone from San Amaro in Tahiti?”

“Let’s go sit in the living room,” Corey said, sliding her arm through Matt’s and tugging him with her.

“She works for Jackson Cole,” Dylan said. In the living room, he sank into a chair and looked around. Subtle differences in the décor made him smile. The place looked less bachelor pad, with some nicely framed photographs on the wall, a soft beige throw draped over the arm of the leather couch and a big potted palm in the corner. It looked good. “She came down there to meet with me. I got booted out of my bungalow because of the storm and we ended up sharing a room.” The story came easy when it was true.

“Dog,” Matt said, grinning. “That would only happen to you.”

Dylan laughed. “Yeah. We flew back together. She works in their Marketing and PR department and like I said, they have some things planned for me for the next few weeks leading up to the competition.”

“I want to meet her!” Corey said. “Why didn’t you bring her?”

“She had stuff to do.” He wanted them to think there was really something between them because he did
not
want them feeling sorry for him or worrying about him. “She was out of contact with her office for a while because of the storm, so she had to get caught up. Don’t worry, you’ll meet her.”

At the wedding. That was what she’d agreed to. Hopefully he could put Matt and Corey off meeting her until then. He
was
going to be busy. He planned to be doing a lot of surfing, a lot of working out and a lot of mental preparation for this competition. On top of whatever stuff he had to do for Brooke.

“How’s the chocolate business?” he asked Corey.

She smiled and snuggled in beside Matt beneath the arm he had around her. “So good. I opened my store. I guess Matt emailed you about that.”

“Yup.”

“The place you found for me,” she reminded him, and more warmth expanded in him. Hey, he’d done something good last time he’d been there.

“That’s right. So it’s working out well?”

“Awesome! I’ve got five people working for me now. It’s so great having a storefront and now being able to have some time off. And business is great. I’m getting orders from all over the country. I may even have to hire more people to make chocolates to keep up with the orders.”

“That’s so great, Cor,” he said. “You deserve it.”

She grimaced, but then smiled. “Thanks.”

“She still busts her butt,” Matt said.

“So do you.” She gave Matt a pointed look.

“I do not.” He grinned.

“You totally do. You just make it all look so easy. And fun.”

“I make beer,” he said. “It
is
fun.”

“Business is good for you too?” Dylan leaned back in the chair. While he admired the success Matt had made of his brewery, turning it into a popular brew pub, it had always puzzled him that Matt didn’t have higher ambitions.

“Good enough,” Matt said, unassuming as always.

“We’ve been doing some cool fundraising things with some other local businesses,” Corey said. “Chocolate tasting, beer tasting, wine and cheese tasting, coffee cuppings…people really enjoy those.”

“Fundraising,” Dylan said. “Huh.”

He remembered the doubts he’d had about his surfing career when he’d been there last year. On top of being out of it for a couple of months because of his injury, he’d questioned what the hell he was doing. Surfing was basically a one-man sport. Yeah, he had Elroy and Brett and Austin, and they did work as a team, but when he was out there on the ocean, it was all him. No one else to rely on. Just him against the ocean, a force so much greater and more powerful than him. But also, no one else benefited from what he did. When he won, the glory was all his. Which was freakin’ awesome and he loved it, but still…he’d seen Corey working her butt off to make her chocolates and he’d seen how many people loved them. She also worked with a group that helped families of people with mental illness. Matt had his business, which also made a lot of people happy, drinking his beer, hanging out in his pub, and he too participated in events like the one they’d dragged him to last year to raise money for a homeless shelter.

So the sport Dylan had dedicated his whole life to had felt…selfish. Pointless. He’d even had the crazy idea of giving it up.

Of course part of that had been the PTSD symptoms he’d experienced from his accident. The shrink he’d seen after that had told him as much. But surfing was all he had. Getting back into it had been the hardest thing he’d ever done and he was proud he’d accomplished that, even though his head was still kind of screwed up. He had a goal and he was working hard to get there.

“Tell me about the wedding,” he said.

“We’re having it at Laguna Dorada,” Matt said, naming his brew pub. “We’re closing down the place that Sunday night. The ceremony will be out on the patio and then we’ll eat and drink and party inside. Just fun and casual, with our friends and family.”

“Sounds great. What can I do to help?”

Corey and Matt looked at each other, then back at him. “Nothing right now,” Corey said, tapping her chin. “But I’m sure the weekend of the wedding we’ll need help with some of the decorations and getting the chocolates to the restaurant. We’re trying to keep it simple.”

“The Saturday night before the wedding, Corey’s girlfriends are taking her out,” Matt said. “So you and I and some of the guys should go out too.”

“I’ll take care of planning that,” Dylan said. “A stag. We need strippers.”

Corey choked on her wine. “Strippers. Oh God.”

Matt and Dylan shared a grin. “What’s wrong with strippers, hon?” Matt asked, squeezing her shoulders.

She shook her head, smiling. Some girls might freak out at the idea, but not Corey. She probably knew Matt wouldn’t go for strippers. Or…would he? Thinking about the things they’d done last summer, nice guy Matt did have a kinkier side…

“Tell us about your surfing,” Corey said, changing the subject. “You’ve done great over the last year.”

“Pretty good, yeah. I’m ranked third in the world now.”

“That’s awesome.”

He grinned. “This time I’m gonna do it. This time I’m gonna beat Marlow.”

“They’re saying you can do it,” Matt said.

“Of course I can.” Some things were beyond his control. He knew only too well that the ocean was a force much greater than him. But all things being equal, he knew he could do it.

They ordered pizza, talked and laughed, and over the course of the evening the tension inside Dylan dissipated. In a way, it was weird. He could almost pretend everything that had happened between the three of them last year had been three other people. Not them. And yet, the easy fun they’d shared was still there, and he slid back into it, back into the jokes and teasing insults, becoming more comfortable.

It had always been like that between him and Matt. They’d been best friends since high school. They’d had each other’s backs through thick and thin, Dylan teaching Matt how to surf, Matt coaching him through high school math and physics. They’d dated together and partied together, and Matt’s home had been a refuge for Dylan when his own parents were too busy fighting to pay any attention to him.

Last year had made things strained and uncomfortable for them, and Dylan had left things like that. Which was at least part of the reason he hadn’t wanted to come back. He had to smile at himself. When it came to surfing, he was aggressive and fearless. Well, mostly fearless. When it came to relationships, he was a big wuss.

Damn, he’d missed Matt’s friendship though.

“I should get going,” Dylan eventually said. Surprisingly it was nearly midnight, and holy crap, he was tired. He got to his feet and helped carry pizza boxes and beer bottles out to the kitchen. He hugged Corey and kissed her forehead with genuine affection. “Good night, Cor.”

“See you soon,” she said.

Matt walked him to the door. “You could’ve stayed here,” he said again.

Dylan was comfortable enough now for honesty. “No. I couldn’t.”

Pausing at the door, they shared a look of understanding. “We okay, man?” Matt asked.

Emotion rose up inside Dylan, including relief that he’d made it through this and things were…okay. Not great, but okay. And once again, there was no way in hell he was going to ruin this for Matt by being a jerk. “Yeah,” he said. He laid a hand on Matt’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’re good, dude.”

Outside he breathed in the cool night air, the briny scent of the nearby ocean. Man, he was tired. He’d slept on the flight, but apparently not enough and probably all the tension he’d felt about seeing Matt and Corey again had sucked the energy out of him. For once, he was going to be happy to head back to the hotel and crash alone.

But as he drove back to the Hilton, he kept thinking about Brooke. What was she doing? Probably sleeping. He smiled, thinking about the way she curled her hand into a fist and tucked it under her chin when she slept. Weird that he knew that about her. Weird that he was going to miss having her in his bed tonight.

Chapter Ten

Brooke spent the rest of Friday and a good part of Saturday catching up with the work that had accumulated during her absence, including a meeting with Tim to get her up to speed on the things he’d been working on while she’d been gone. Saturday afternoon she took Amber, her Little Sister, shopping for new bras.

She picked up Dylan at the San Amaro Hilton later that afternoon. She texted him to let him know she was there, and he was waiting in the lobby when she walked in. He leaned against the back of a leather chair, flipping through some tourist brochure, dressed in his usual knee-length cargo shorts and a loose yellow and pink Hawaiian print shirt. She lifted an eyebrow over the pink shirt, but on him it just looked right. She caught the glances of others in the lobby, both men and women, some who probably recognized him and some who just wanted to look at him because he was so goddamn gorgeous. She sighed.