Just A Kiss (Angel Sands 4)

Caitie took a deep breath, preparing herself for Harper’s reaction. “That’s Breck,” she said.

“Your Breck?” Harper’s mouth dropped open even more. Any minute and she’d be able to fit Breck’s truck in there.

If her heart hadn’t been stuck halfway up her throat, Caitie would have reminded her friend he wasn’t her Breck. But she was too busy watching him cross the road, striding over the blacktop as if he owned the place.

“Hey, how was your flight?” he asked when he reached them.

That smile. All warm and full of promise.

“It was good, thanks.” She looked around. “Is Lucas with you?”

“He was supposed to message you. I had a meeting in L.A., so when I heard you were flying in, I offered to pick you up. Seemed crazy for him to drive all the way here when I was in town.”

“Well that was convenient.” Harper grinned, tipping her head to the side.

“Ah, you must be the famous Harper.” Breck offered his hand. Harper took it, shaking firmly.

“That’s me. And I already know you’re Breck. Caitie’s told me a lot about you.”

“She has?” Breck’s smile was still broad. Though she couldn’t see his eyes, Caitie knew he was looking at her. It made her feel warm and nervous, all at the same time, especially after her discussion with Harper.

“Harper’s always full of questions,” Caitie said. “You’ll find that out on the drive home. If you were hoping for a nice scenic drive and some music, you’re going to be disappointed.”

Harper elbowed her in the waist. “Caitie thinks anybody who shows an interest in her is too talkative. I call it being a friend.”

Breck rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, talkative is good. I was up early this morning to get to L.A., and I’m already running on caffeine fumes. I’ll welcome the distraction.”

“Ooh, is there a coffee shop on the way to Angel Sands?” Harper asked. “I’m dying for a frappé. Can we stop at one?”

“Sure.” Breck shrugged. He turned to Caitie, grabbing the handle of her suitcase. “You okay? You look pale.”

“I always look pale. Especially in California.” She shrugged good naturedly.

“You look good, though,” he added. “Cute sweater.”

She glanced down at the pink cashmere top she’d pulled on that morning. It was one of her favorites, hugging her in all the right places. “Thanks. It was freezing in New York when we left. We had to layer up.”

“It’s not exactly scorching here either,” Breck said. “The temperatures have dropped like a brick.”

“We’ll have to cozy up to keep warm,” Harper said, that smile still playing at her lips. She kept looking from Caitie to Breck, as though she was trying to take everything in.

He lifted their suitcases into the back of his truck and pulled the passenger door open. There were two rows of seats, and Harper almost pushed past Caitie to climb into the back.

“What? I’m tired,” she said, when Caitie gave her that look. “You can sit in the front with Breck and keep him entertained.”

As though to make her point, Harper snapped her seatbelt on and leaned her head back on the rest, closing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “Wake me up when we get to the coffee shop.”

An hour later, after waking up temporarily for her frappé, Harper was snoring again in the backseat. When Caitie turned to look at her, Harper’s head was back, her mouth wide open. She really was out for the count. Biting down a smile, Caitie turned back, taking the opportunity to look at Breck’s strong profile. “I’m sorry about her. She has no control switch, she’s either full on or at a complete stop.”

“She seems nice,” Breck said. He pulled his eyes from the windshield to look at her before directing his attention back at the road ahead. “I feel bad that I bored her to sleep. I swear she started snoring mid-conversation.”

Caitie laughed. In the short time she was awake, Harper had managed to grill Breck about everything; his childhood, his time in Boston, the contract he was working on. He’d been in the middle of describing the Silver Sands Resort when Harper drifted off for the second time. “She was out late last night and we were up pretty early this morning. I’m surprised she didn’t sleep on the plane.” Except she wasn’t that surprised. Harper had been too busy arguing with her for that.

“She seems like a good friend,” he said. “She’s very proud of you.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“The way she talked about your work. She was bringing you up constantly. And she kept looking at me to gauge my reaction.”