Seaside Kisses: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 4) (3 page)

She laughed. "You want to work for me?"

"Hey, I have five mouths to feed. And Ella's eating for two again."

Amara's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "You guys are having a fourth? I didn't know you were trying."

"Neither did we."

"Congratulations. Right?"

"Yeah. Now that the shock's wearing off, we're getting excited."

Amara grinned. "That's great news. I don't know why you're worried about the kids having cousins. They'll be busy enough with each other."

"Yeah, but you know how cousins are different. We always had each other, but it was so much more fun when our cousins came into town. You really don't have a love interest?"

Her face warmed.

Alex's mouth dropped. "Do you? You're blushing."

The bell above the front door dinged, announcing the arrival of customers. A flood of teenagers poured in.

"Saved by the bell," Amara whispered.

Alex poked her arm. "You're not off the hook. I want to hear about this guy later."

"Wonderful."

The rest of the afternoon went by quickly with first the high school rush, and then the middle school one. By the time five o'clock came around, Amara's arms and legs ached. And from the looks of it, Alex was exhausted, too.

"You want to go home?" she asked. "I can close tonight."

"Are you sure?" he asked, appearing grateful.

"Of course. You've got a house full of people eager to see you."

He frowned. "You should, too."

"I'm
happy.
No one to bother me or mess up my things. Now get out of here."

"Okay. Well, tomorrow when it's slow, I'll help you with your online stuff."

"Deal. Bye." She turned around and went to the register.

"See you."

Amara listened as he grabbed his things and opened the door. The bell announced his departure, and she let out a long sigh of relief. He'd forgotten to ask about Rafael. She hadn't wanted to talk about it. It wasn't like she stood a chance with him. Not when he knew what she'd been like in school.

He hadn't had a wedding band—she'd checked—but he was probably seeing someone. If not, he'd be in the market for someone more sophisticated than her. He not only wore designer clothes, he created them.

She took her time finishing at the register and then made her rounds, cleaning up what needed it. The carpet needed vacuuming, but she would do that in the morning. After skipping lunch, her stomach roared.

Amara grabbed the money next to the till, turned off the lights, and went outside, locking the shop behind her. She had to walk by Rafael's shop on the way to her car, so she peeked in the window as she passed.

Rafael stood there, arranging clothes on a mannequin. He looked up at her and waved. She waved back, and then picked up her pace, not wanting him to think she was half as interested as she really was.

She got in her car, deposited the money at the bank—thankfully, the drive through stayed open until six—and made her way home. It was really her parents' house, but with them living in Anaheim, it had grown to feel like hers.

Amara was too hungry to cook anything, so she scarfed down the leftovers she had been planning to eat for lunch. She thought about checking her online orders, but wanted to relax. She plopped onto the couch and streamed a movie.

Her mind kept wandering, playing out various scenarios where she managed to get Rafael to fall in love with her. She kicked her feet onto the coffee table. Had she grown up since school? If she went into her room, it would only take a few minutes to find old notebooks and journals where she'd doodled countless variations of her name combined with his.

Amara Hunter.

Mrs. Rafael Hunter.

Amara Fowler Hunter.

Mrs. Amara Hunter.

Amara Tatiana Hunter.

Mrs. Amara Tatiana Fowler-Hunter.

Rafael and Amara forever.

And the list went on… She would go into an early grave if Rafael ever saw those.

Maybe she should burn them now.

Her phone jingled, indicating she'd received a text. Amara dug around the couch, finding it between two cushions. It was from Janelle, her best friend.

Who's the guy?

Amara rolled her eyes. She scrolled over to her brother's number.

Thanks so much.

For what?

Janelle

Ha, ha. I ran into her at the grocery store on the way home. Ella wanted ice cream.

Tell her congratulations for me. Then tell her to slap you for me.

Sure thing to the first part. Ignoring the second part. See you tomorrow.

You hope.

Amara went back to Janelle's text.

Ran into Alex, I take it.

Yep. So, who's your hottie?

I don't have a guy.

That's not what it sounded like to me.

It's nothing, okay?

Janelle sent a string of animated pouty faces.

If it turns into anything, you'll be the first to know. I promise.

You're no fun. We need to hang out.

Yeah, we do. Your turn to plan.

Kyle has the kids this weekend. Want to have a sleepover like old times?

That would be so much fun! Should I bring a sleeping bag?

And celeb magazines!

Amara laughed out loud.
Will do. Anything else?

Nope. Come over after the shop closes tomorrow.

Can't wait.

Me, too.

Amara shook her head, smiling. It would be fun to have a sleepover with Janelle. They'd drifted apart after Janelle got married, and especially after having kids. But then Kyle had announced he was moving out, and everything changed. Janelle and Amara had been acting like besties again.

She turned off the TV and went out into the garage. It took some digging, but she found her sleeping bag. It smelled like a campfire.

Inside, she threw it in the washing machine—on heavy duty—and then went around the house gathering what she would need for the girls' night. She found herself growing more excited as she added things to her pile.

The only thing she wasn't looking forward to was dodging questions about Rafael.

Once she had everything together, Amara put it all into her trunk and went to bed, falling asleep as soon as she hit the pillow.

The next day seemed to drag on at the candy store. She managed to avoid all of Alex's questions about Rafael by giving him something to do—she found all kinds of chores. Things that were often overlooked, such as deep cleaning.

At the end of the day, her brother looked around. "I've never quite seen it sparkle like this. I like it."

"Me, too. You still have tomorrow?" she asked. In the off season, they took every other Saturday, giving each other a break. When they were busier in the summers, they hired help every day of the week. The rest of the year, Saturday afternoons were decent business, but Sundays were dead, so they didn't bother opening.

"Yeah. Got big plans? Like a date?"

"Big plans, yes. A date, no."

Alex leaned against the counter. "I'll stop bugging you if you tell me one thing."

Amara arched an eyebrow.

"Do I know him?"

She paused. That was a tricky question. The two of them used to know each other, but Alex probably hadn't seen Rafael in a decade, either. But technically, he did know him, and would likely recognize him as quickly as she had.

Amara nodded. "Yes. Now you'll leave me alone?"

"So, he's from Kittle Falls?" Alex asked.

She threw her head back. "You said no more questions."

He put his hands in the air. "Okay, okay. But that won't stop me from trying to figure it out."

"Look, Alex. Don't worry about it. There's no way it's reciprocal."

"Have you looked in the mirror?" he asked. "Any guy would be lucky to go out with you."

"Not this one," she muttered, then raised her voice. "Mind if I get going? I'm getting together with Janelle tonight."

"Go ahead." Alex waved her off. "It's my turn to close up."

"Thanks. Have a great weekend."

"You, too. Tell Janelle I said hi."

Amara grabbed her jacket and went outside, surprised to see Rafael outside his shop, cleaning the window in his designer threads. Her heart pounded as she walked toward him. Thoughts raced through her mind, but she didn't think any of them would make it to her mouth. At least not in a way that made any sense.

When she reached him, she noticed yellow streaked all over the large window.

"What happened?" she asked.

He turned to her. "Someone egged it."

She gasped. "Who would do such a thing?"

Rafael shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe someone isn't happy I'm back."

"I doubt that," Amara said, and then realized her mistake. "I mean, you Hunters have always been so nice. I can't imagine you have any enemies." Her face warmed. She wished her mouth didn't run when she was nervous.

He didn't seem to notice, though. "Who knows?" he asked again. "Could be teens—they get like that around Halloween. Or it could be someone who wanted to rent this space. I wasn't the only one vying for it."

"Want some help?" she asked.

"I don't want to impose."

Time with Rafael Hunter? "Hand me a rag."

"You can put your purse down inside first."

"Okay, thanks." It threw her off that a guy would think about that, but then again, this one did live for fashion. She went inside, immediately taken in by all the nice clothes displayed.

Amara looked down at her own clothes, which were nowhere near as nice. She felt like that dorky kid again. There was definitely no way her feelings would be reciprocated. She set her plain-Jane purse on an empty table and hurried back outside.

"There are several rags in the bucket," Rafael said, not looking up from scrubbing.

She stuck her hand in the warm, bubbly water and found one. She squeezed the excess water and then scrubbed the dried egg nearest her. It came off pretty easily.

"How'd you do that?" Rafael asked.

"What?"

"Get it off so quickly. I've been out here forever, and I haven't been able to do that."

Amara shrugged. "I just scrubbed. Like this." She moved to the next egg splotch and removed it.

"Wow."

"It's nothing." She didn't want to say she had plenty of experience cleaning messes. He was the kind of guy who probably hired people to clean for him. Amara had always dreamed of the day she would make enough to get a housekeeper and not have to do so much cleaning herself.

Rafael scrubbed the one he was working on again, but didn't make any progress.

"Try going at it from an angle like this," she said, showing him. "And then use some elbow grease."

He looked down at the cleaning products next to the bucket. "Is that one of the spray bottles?"

Amara held in a laugh. He was adorable. "No. I just mean to really work it. It's going to take some strength."

"Oh. I get it." He appeared embarrassed, but he smiled. His entire face lit up.

Butterflies danced in Amara's stomach. "It's just an expression my parents use."

She went back to work, removing more of the gunk. Rafael still hadn't gotten the one spot.

He glanced over, catching her stare. "You think I'm an idiot, don't you?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What? No. Maybe I can I help you?"

"Sure." He shrugged.

Amara's heart raced again. She dropped her rag and put her hand over his—she couldn't believe how soft it felt. Most women would be jealous. Part of her wanted to ask him for skin care tips. "Oh, gosh," she said. "Your rag is nearly dry. You have to dip in the soapy water every so often."

Color filled his cheeks. "Right." He dipped it in and pulled it out, water streaming down.

"You can wring it out and it won't do that," she said.

"You must think I'm pampered." He twisted the rag and then went back to the spot he'd been working.

"Never. We all have to learn. Believe it or not, I wasn't born knowing how to clean." Her pulse felt afire as she put her hand back over his. "Try it at this angle." She pressed her hand into his, helping him remove the spot. It was hard to focus. She was so aware of how close he was.

In a way, it reminded her of all the times she'd shared a desk with him in school. But even then, they hadn't been this close. She could smell his cologne and their sides touched.

He didn't seem at all bothered by it—not that she was
bothered
by his touch. After the spot was cleaned, he moved over and dipped the rag into the bucket. "Let's see if I can do this next one on my own."

"I have faith in you," she teased.