Beach Cottage Kisses (The Cottages on Ocean Breeze #2)

Chapter One

“I do.”

The threat of tears tightened her throat. Pricked at her eyelids.

Shocked, feeling raw and exposed, Iris Shiprock held her pasted smile as the preacher turned from Sage to Gray. “Grayson Bartholomew, do you take Sage Martin as your lawfully wedded wife?”

Iris barely heard the positive response due to the sudden roaring in her ears.

Leave me alone.

Her best friend was getting married. She was not going to let the past mess up the present.

“Miss Iris, you got a run up your nose. Better catch it ’fore it drips.” The loudly whispered words, coming from the four-year-old glancing up at her, created a small rustle in the very full room. Taking the tissue the bridesmaid next to her—an attorney from Sage’s office—slid discreetly into her hand, Iris made a quick wipe.

And smiled at little Leigh. Sage’s daughter. The love of Iris’s life.

Nodding her approval of the fix, Leigh slid her little hand into Iris’s and turned back solemnly to watch her mom and new father as they followed formal vows with their own, more personal promises to each other.

Standing just to the side of Sage, Iris could only see Gray’s face, and watched the usually collected expression break along with his voice as he finished with “I will never turn my back on you or our family. You can count on me. Forever.”

As the roaring in Iris’s ears started up again, she averted her gaze. And it ran straight into the pair of blue eyes that were watching her, not the couple getting married.

The best man. Sage’s twin brother. Scott Martin.

Iris’s second-best friend.

Who had the audacity to wink at her. Right then and there.

As though he knew.

He didn’t. No one did. She’d reinvented herself when she’d moved from Northern California to San Diego ten years before.

And had long been over the bouts of panic that used to plague her.

She’d attended hundreds of weddings. All without issue.

Hadn’t had a breakdown in years.

And between Leigh and her uncle Scott, she didn’t have one then, either.

The groom kissed the bride. They both turned and picked up Leigh, kissed her cheeks, faced the crowd and started down the aisle.

On cue, Iris’s arm slid through Scott’s. He gave it a little squeeze. And off they went. Just as rehearsed.

Best buds dressed in their finery. At a glorious occasion.

With a fun evening ahead.

She was off the hook.

* * *

Weddings were not his thing. Scott had first had the revelation right about the time he’d looked over to see Iris struggling not to cry.

Three years they’d been friends and he’d never seen her look…vulnerable. Emotionally overwrought.

The sight wiped him out almost as much as listening to the vows his twin was making to his best friend, hearing his biggest failure among them.

Once upon a time he’d said, “I do.”

But he hadn’t followed through on the promise.

Had Iris also been married before? Was that why she’d just had what could only be described as a near breakdown? That initial moment of panic, before she’d seemed to pull herself together…

Three years they’d seen each other more days than not, and not once had she hinted at any heartbreak in her life.

Nor had she ever brought a man home that he knew about. She never mentioned dating. At least not to him.

Had someone promised to love her forever and then broken her heart?

The idea brought an instant flash of anger toward the jerk.

Which quickly turned inward on himself. Molly had been a lovely, intelligent, giving woman. A friend to many. Who’d all rightfully hated him when he’d paid so little attention to his wife that he hadn’t even known she’d left him until the day after she’d moved out.

How could he be angry with an ex who broke a friend’s heart? He was that guy.

As a husband, yes.

But as a friend?

On the dance floor during the maid-of-honor-and-best-man dance with the bride and groom, Scott pulled Iris’s sexy body close and teased her about the entire plate of pasta she’d consumed seated next to him at the bridal table.

And grinned when she told him he was just lucky she hadn’t dumped it in his lap.

They were good. Fine. The best.

Friend he could do.

As best man and brother of the bride, he was there for the night.

If Iris needed a distraction to keep the stricken look off her face, he’d stick close enough to make sure he provided it.

And if she needed a shoulder to cry on?

He could be that, too. Thirty-one years connected to his twin had him well-versed in that area.

The bride was pregnant and so the bride and groom weren’t drinking, but waiters with trays of champagne were everywhere and Scott grabbed a couple of bubbling flutes as he and Iris left the dance floor after that first dance.

The liquid seemed to reflect the purple of Iris’s slim-fitting long dress as she lifted the glass he gave her up to her mouth. Took a sip.

From lips that bore the same lipstick she’d had on for the ceremony. Since photos were being taken throughout the evening, Sage had asked the wedding party to remain in ceremony dress mode. For him, that just meant keeping his shirt buttoned up and tux jacket and tie on. For Iris, the charge had meant touching up her makeup after dinner, too.

He knew all the behind-the-curtain details.

And still, those lips against the glass, the liquid passing over them…sent a wave of want down beneath his fly.

The sensation itself was commonplace enough that he didn’t instantly take a step back. Until his gaze rose to Iris’s deep green eyes.

What the hell?

Iris?

Three years and not once had that happened.

It couldn’t happen again, either.

“What?” she asked him, that gaze homing in more specifically on his features, as though she could read his thoughts.

He wasn’t completely sure she couldn’t. The woman had a way of seeing things that no one else caught. Usually behind the lens of her camera.

Not while standing in a luxuriously decorated, romantically lit room, with only inches between them.

“I was just thinking about the long road Sage and Gray took to get here,” he ad-libbed. Pulling out a thought he’d had while on the dance floor.

“Yeah, but I’m guessing that if you asked either one of them, they’d say the destination was worth the trip.”

Sage and Gray had both grown a lot since Gray had broken off their first engagement years ago, just a couple of days before the wedding. Remembering his sister’s brokenness, he’d never have believed that she could be put back together again with a wholeness that surpassed what she’d been. Still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the depth of her happiness.

“I wish my father had lived to see this day,” he said, lifting his glass to his lips as the band struck up another number and the dance floor filled. Randolph Martin III, wealthy, demanding, strict widower father of the twins he’d adored, would be so proud of Sage.

He’d have no doubt that he’d succeeded with at least one of his offspring. He’d be extremely pleased with Scott’s courtroom successes, too. But Sage, she’d conquered both the personal and professional worlds.

Iris moved toward a table farther back in the room, away from the band, talking as she walked, so Scott went with her and heard her say, “I think she was happiest having you walk her down the aisle.” She slid onto a stool at the high top she’d chosen. “She loved your dad, but it’s clear that he intimidated her. With you, it’s just unconditional love and acceptance.”

Scott glanced at his sister, on the dance floor again, with both Gray and sweet Leigh, and hated himself for the envy he felt along with the joy.

When it had just been single mother Sage, and him as Uncle Scott, his own life had felt full. But with Gray there…

He took another sip of champagne. Needing to get over himself. And saw Iris watching him again. “It’s harder than I thought…watching her leave the nest, so to speak,” he said. Because she was Iris. Friend to both of them. Almost like a member of the family.

Something he had a sudden need to firmly establish after his little episode moments before.

But as he said the words and saw the deadpan look that passed over Iris’s lovely face, he wished he’d held his tongue. Her gaze darkened, and for a second, it looked as though she might cry again before she blinked, took a sip of champagne and said, “Just wait until Leigh gets married…”

Leigh. And the new baby on the way. Gray would be there to give both away. Or to stand beside his son, if the baby turned out to be a boy. Scott would be the doting uncle in the background.

He was generally good with that. Outside Sage’s wedding.

Sitting in the midst of it, while feeling like an outsider, watching from the sidelines… Scott took another sip of champagne.

And concentrated on showing his and Sage’s friend Iris a completely platonic fun time.

* * *

The music was slow. And loud enough to engulf you if you closed your eyes and sank into the words of deep, undying, forever love.

The cake had been cut. The garter thrown. Leigh had gone up to bed in her room in the bridal suite. Had a sitter with her for the rest of the night, before the three Bartholomews embarked on their month-long family-moon.

And Iris had… Scott. Leaning against him as they danced along with a dozen other couples, she wanted so badly to lose herself and be a woman who believed in happily-ever-after. Who had the capacity to love forever. Just for a little while.

Until she could get back behind the camera lens through which she viewed life. Saw beautiful things. And found deep emotion.

As the only two in the wedding party without dates, Scott and Iris had been dancing partners for the past couple of hours.

She hadn’t had a horrible time.

“The crowd is thinning,” Scott’s voice sounded just above her ear. “Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

She nodded. Glad to be almost done. And yet, oddly reluctant at the thought of going up to her room alone. “You want to go outside for a few?” she asked him. The fresh air would do her good. Being on the beach, even a public one, was the panacea for pretty much all her pains.

Taking off her shoes, she felt easier inside as her toes slid into the sand.

The only thing that would make the moment better would be having Morgan and Angel with them. Scott’s corgi and her miniature collie.

Come to think of it…as they walked…a few inches between them as always…she said, “I think this is the first time we’ve been on a beach without the girls.”

Or on any beach together that wasn’t the mile-long private stretch on Ocean Breeze, where they both lived.

“I’m sure they’ll let us know about it tomorrow.” Scott’s chuckle sounded different, somehow. Familiar, and yet new. Because of the waves?

They sounded different, too. More open. As opposed to their beach that was protected on both sides by large walls of mountain rock.

She felt sorry for Scott, who couldn’t as easily find the same solace as her, strapped up as he was in dress socks and patent leather dress shoes.

“You feeling better?” she asked him.

They walked as always, staring ahead. Around. Not at each other.

“Are you?” His question unsettled her again.

Sent her back to a place she didn’t want to be.

“I’m fine,” she told him, purposely lightening her tone, almost as though she was talking to Leigh.

“You weren’t.”

Scott’s strange tone had her looking up at him as she walked. He was watching her, too. Not something they did. She didn’t stop it, though.

Instead, she said, “I…don’t…believe in love lasting forever.” And wasn’t sorry that she’d done so. She had a strong feeling she was with a like mind. Other than Sage, Leigh, Gray and Iris, Scott’s relationships were all casual.

As were hers.

“Why not?”

She snapped her gaze from his, looking out at the ocean. Hadn’t anticipated the question. Should have. “Do you?” she verbally sidestepped. Leading them back to their long-established comfortable territory.

“I do.” Scott’s answer shocked her to the point of staring back at him again. Was he kidding?

Kidding himself?

Because of the wedding? The deeply felt promises they’d just witnessed Sage and Gray make?

“Seriously?” she asked him, stopping to sit on a bench facing the ocean. Keeping her gaze focused on the one thing she did count on. Those waves. Flowing in and out. Receding. But always, always coming back in again.

He sat down beside her, and she was glad. She hadn’t been sure he would. And yet, she felt uncomfortable about even that much vulnerability—needing him outside their established parameters. Even for a minute.

“I do,” he told her, also staring out toward ship lights bobbing in the distance. A few other hotel guests shared the beach with them. From a distance.

“You looking for it for yourself?” she asked then. And waited for his answer as though it somehow defined her.

“Nope.”

Relief flooded through her. She hadn’t lost her like mind. And knowing that, she was suddenly curious. Both Scott and Sage had told Iris that Scott was divorced. Sage had made a comment or two about her own interpretations of what had gone wrong. About her less-than-stellar impression of Scott’s ex-wife. But the conversations hadn’t gone any further than that. Iris hadn’t needed or wanted them to do so.

But sitting there in her own depths, struggling to get back to an even keel, she asked, “Why not?”

She just didn’t believe. But couldn’t imagine believing and not reaching.

“That kind of love takes a commitment and dedication that I don’t excel at,” he told her. Shocking her.

“You’re kidding, right?”

His glance at her was long. She didn’t want him seeing things inside her, but, again, didn’t stop searching his gaze for what she didn’t know.

“No.” One word that seemed to carry many.

She wasn’t sure what he was telling her. Or himself. But had something to tell him. “Sage? Leigh?” The man was as committed as they came.

And turned his gaze back out to sea as he said, “I didn’t say I don’t love. I do. Which is how I know it exists. And I know that I’m good at it when I don’t have someone at home counting on me to be their first and always.”

First and always . Two words she’d heard in the promises Sage and Gray had made to each other. He’d been Sage’s first love. And was her always.

But the way Scott said the words…as though he was as bereft as she’d once been…

Her hand moved, finding his, threading their fingers together.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t touched before. They’d walked the aisle together, arm in arm. Twice during rehearsal. Twice that night.

And had been holding each other all night on the dance floor.

So why did her fingers holding his suddenly seem like so much more than any of that?

The night was calling for more.

The night. Not life.

Looking at him, watching him study her, she said, “Just so you know, you’re the first person I look for on the beach when I get home. And I’m always happy to see you.” Truth.

It seemed important in that moment to offer it to him.

He watched her lips as she spoke.

And she couldn’t tear her gaze from his as he said, “I’m always happy to see you, too.” She watched as he leaned closer to her.

Knew the second his lips were going to touch hers.

Had to know what would happen when they did.

And didn’t recognize the sensation that shot through her.

At all.