Bungalow Nights (Beach House No. 9) by Christie Ridgway Read Free Book Online Page B

own thickheadedness. He could probably blame that on Blythe, too—it was only natural to distrust his instincts when it came to women after receiving that letter from her ending with “and I hope this won’t cause any unpleasantness between us.”
    But now he couldn’t ignore what his gut was telling him. The lust bug that had bitten him so bad? Looked like it had sunk its teeth into Layla, too. This hot-for-you thing went both ways.
    Dammit.
    “So what do you say, Addy?” Layla asked. “Can you use my help?”
    The other woman shrugged. “If you want, but are you sure you’ll have time with what you and Vance have on the calendar?”
    Layla’s blank look said what he didn’t have to. Addy groaned. “Vance hasn’t told you about that yet.” She turned to him. “I’m not normally so stupid, you know. It’s Baxter.”
    Vance’s brows rose. “What does my cousin have to do with it?”
    Addy jumped to her feet and started muttering. “I saw him yesterday, okay? Well, you know that. It’s just, he... Never mind.”
    Still muttering, she stalked back into the house, slamming shut the glass door behind her. Vance and Layla both stared after her, and then he shifted his attention to the colonel’s daughter once more. After a moment of tense silence, she met his gaze.
    Her tongue touched her top lip and he worked not to notice it. “Do I want to know about this ‘calendar’?” she asked.
    “It’s nothing bad,” he assured her. “And not so time-consuming that you can’t hang with Addy if you want, or just spend time soaking up the summer air.”
    Layla stepped a little closer to him, her wariness apparently lifted for the moment. “That sounds nice,” she admitted. “I haven’t taken any days off from cupcakes since we bought the truck.”
    “Your dad said you deserved a vacation. He wanted this one for you on the beach.”
    She drew closer, her eyes searching his face. “You...There was time? He really had time to talk to you about me?”
    “Yeah.” Vance softened his voice. “He wasn’t in physical pain, Layla. I was able to make sure of that.”
    He saw her swallow. She stepped closer yet, sank again to the cushion beside him and pushed her hair away from her temples with both hands. Then they dropped to her lap. “What’s this calendar all about?”
    Her father’s face flashed in his mind, sweat-streaked and pale, but determined as he fumbled with the precious papers in his headgear.
    Isn’t she beautiful, Vance? You’ve got to do something for her. You’ve got to do something for my girl.
    He’d sworn he would, and nothing as temporary or as ill-advised as surrendering to his baser urges would get in the way of keeping his word. “Your father gave me a piece of paper he always kept with him—a list of things he wanted the two of you to do together. Things he thought he’d put off for too long.”
    “Oh, Dad.” Her thick lashes swept down to hide her eyes. She brought the back of her hand to her nose. “I’m not crying. Tears always upset him—Uncle Phil, too—so I don’t do that.”
    She was worming her way under his skin again, this stoic little soldier. Under other circumstances, Vance would have put his hands on her. As a medic, he understood the comfort of human touch. But right now it didn’t seem wise. “I pledged to take his place—to do them with you,” he said.
    She slanted him a glance. “And what are they exactly?” she asked, her voice thick.
    “A surprise. Are you okay with that?”
    Her laugh sounded more sad than amused. “He liked surprises, the goof.”
    This time Vance allowed himself to reach out. His fingers caught in her hair and he managed to tuck a piece behind her ear. “He called it his ‘Helmet List,’” Vance said, softly. “And I promised to share it with you.”
    As his hand fell, Layla caught it with hers, squeezing. And God, the sexual thrill was there, undeniable, but the buzz that goosed his libido also sent an electrical