Love on Beach Avenue(27)

OH. HELL. NO.

Avery spoke up. Loudly. “I really don’t think that’s—”

“What a great idea!” Ally practically squealed. “Oh, I’m so relieved. This way, Avery will get some extra help, and we can still all do this together, just like I envisioned. I can’t thank you both enough.”

The protests died on her lips. She watched in horror as Carter turned and met her gaze.

Triumph carved out the lines of his face. Smug satisfaction gleamed from pewter eyes. And Avery swore to make him pay.

Game on.





Chapter Seven

She was avoiding him.

Carter looked out over his balcony at the crashing waves and analyzed his next move. Since that fateful dinner a week ago, when Ally had announced she needed to leave, it was obvious her wedding planner was not thrilled with his offer to help. Not that he’d termed it as an offer. More like a demand.

She definitely disliked taking orders, even though her entire career revolved around pleasing high-maintenance clients. Unless it was just him she disliked. Quite possible, since the moment they’d seen each other, she seemed determined to piss him off. From her judgy looks and cool disregard, he’d known immediately she wasn’t happy to see him, let alone learn he was Ally’s man of honor. Her attitude set off his usually nonexistent temper, touching deep, dark parts inside that flared to life. Things that contained raw, untamed stuff and something even worse.

Want.

A groan escaped his lips and he fisted his hands. One casual touch outside Fins had set his body off like a firecracker. Just a simple brush of skin on skin, the subtle scent of lavender mint drifting to his nostrils, and he was suddenly, horrifyingly hard.

He was fucked-up.

Only he’d become sexually attracted to a woman who drove him batty and personally disliked him. Of course, it could be a fluke. He’d read that anger could warp into arousal, so maybe the challenge of winning each skirmish had gotten his body mis-wired. It was a logical conclusion and the only one he’d accept. Because there was no way he’d get involved with Avery Sunshine.

Ever.

He glanced with frustration at his phone. The string of texts he’d sent was met with savvy nonanswers created to make him go away.

C: Narrowed down three possible restaurants for rehearsal. Here are the links. Can you make appointments at each and let me know when?

A: Sure. I’ll get back to you. ?

C: Ally liked these centerpieces (see attachment). When is the floral appointment?

A: Let me check on that. ?

C: I called this photographer, whose work received high reviews. Would like to meet with him next week. When are you free?

A: I’ll peek at my schedule and let you know. ?

C: A full week has passed, and I still haven’t heard from you on these important issues. I’ve left you a voice mail on your business phone to contact me ASAP. Please forward me a spreadsheet and updated schedule of all appointments immediately.

A: Already spoke with your sister. Will let you know if I need you. ?

No spreadsheet. No tasks, vendor list, or appointment dates. She was shutting him out, and the smiley faces proved it. Her hand had been well played. If he went complaining to his sister, Avery would play dumb and pretend to get upset. It’d also make him look like a ridiculous whiner. She’d been smart to disappear.

It was time to take back control.

He didn’t question why it was important for him to be involved in every step. He trusted Ally to make the right decisions and knew Jason would support her. Weddings had never been on his radar, other than the ceremonial horror of committing yourself to forever. He’d never cared about the actual details, but knowing their mother wasn’t around to offer opinions and guidance to Ally hurt him. He didn’t want his sister to feel as if she were lacking, so he’d be mother, father, and best friend in one shot.

He refused to fail her.

Decision made, he settled Lucy with one of her favorite bones, promising to be back early, and headed out. He’d camp out in Avery’s office until someone had to deal with him, then lodge his complaint about not having his phone calls or text messages returned.

The sun beamed hot on his bare arms, and he enjoyed being out of his restrictive suit, officially on vacation now. Today, he’d donned white board shorts, a blue T-shirt, and leather sandals. Trading in his glasses for a pair of prescription Ray-Bans, he took in the sights and sounds of the busy streets.

No wonder his sister had raved about Cape May. It emanated quirky charm and combined gorgeously restored Victorian homes with old-school beach flavor. It’d managed to avoid the tacky boardwalk filled with rides and overpriced food, offering visitors a clean beach, unique shops, and delicious cafés. Other than a small arcade, the town mostly catered to families rather than teens. Horses and carriages clopped by, taking people on mini tours, and red surreys holding six people pedaling madly mixed in with the cars and foot traffic.

He walked out of the hubbub of town and toward the quieter streets, shielded in shade by massive oak trees that lined the curbs. He passed multiple bed-and-breakfasts painted in Crayola-type color. People relaxed on oversize porches, sipping tea and eating cookies in wicker rockers. Many waved as he strolled by, and he was surprised to find himself smiling and waving back. When he finally reached Sunshine Bridal, his mind was clear and focused.

He walked through the front door and headed directly into the office. A young woman with short pink hair was tapping madly on a laptop, muttering softly under her breath.