Free Jilted: Promise Harbor, Book 1 by Kelly Jamieson Page B

the trouble with an ocean-view room. He rolled his cramped body off the couch and slowly stood, lifting his arms over his head to stretch. Christ, he’d have been better off sleeping on the floor.
    He scrubbed a hand over his face and wandered to the balcony doors to watch the sun lift above the horizon, casting its warm, golden glow. He leaned his head against the doorjamb for a moment, heaviness spreading through him as he recalled what had happened the day before.
    It was all such a mess. Allie leaving with that jerk. Josh still questioned whether he should have tried harder to stop her. But hell, she’d called the guy the night before their wedding. To tell him she loved him! Or something like that. He wasn’t entirely clear on what had been said.
    Worry gnawed at his insides. Maybe he should have asked Hayley to put out an APB or whatever the cops did when someone was abducted. But then he remembered the look on Allie’s face, the way she’d snuggled into Gavin’s arms. And he had to admit she hadn’t been resisting much. At all.
    Fuck it, she’d gone with the guy willingly.
    He watched a sailboat zip along the ocean, someone out for an early morning cruise, the sun illuminating the brightly colored sail and glinting off the surface of the ocean, which was the color and texture of polished bluestone marble. Beach grass rising up from the pale sand dunes waved in the morning breeze. It was so beautiful it almost hurt his eyes. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.
    He couldn’t help but worry about Allie, like he’d been worried about her for the last year, since her mom had died. Allie’s mom’s death had been hard for both their families.
    He turned away from the window. He’d seen a coffeemaker on the desk in the room. He’d brew up some coffee and then maybe head out for a run. Running was always good stress relief, with the added bonus of keeping his cardiovascular system in shape.
    As he poured water into the small coffeemaker, he eyed the closed bedroom doors, the floral-print curtains on the other side of the glass panes blocking his view of the bedroom where Devon lay sleeping.
    He’d now been dumped by two women in the last year—Devon and Allie. What was wrong with him?
    He must have lost his mind, coming here with Devon. But he’d really meant it when he’d thanked her for coming. Being alone sure as shit would have sucked donkey balls. It was nice having her there. Except having her there was also strangely…disturbing.
    After she’d gone into the bedroom, he’d lain there in the dark, thoughts consumed not with his missing bride but with Devon sitting next to him on the couch, the feel of her all soft and warm, the sound of her laughter, her singular scent teasing him. That unforgettable scent of flowers and fruit—jasmine and mandarin and sweet sugar. He remembered braving the Sephora store to buy it for her, along with the expensive, scented body lotion, that store almost scarier to him than any fire he’d ever fought. That scent had immediately brought memories flooding back: hot, erotic memories of him burying his face in her hair, of him kissing his way down her naked body, of her long hair dragging across his belly when she did the same. His body had tightened into arousal and then the guilt had smacked him yet again, this time guilt over thinking of Devon on the night he should have been celebrating his marriage to Allie.
    Jesus, no wonder he’d been stood up at the altar—he was such a pig.
    He was pissed at Allie. Something was wrong with this picture. In his world things were black or white. Right or wrong. He always tried to do the right thing. He looked after the people he loved. He kept his promises. So yeah, he was pissed at her, pissed at her for calling her ex, pissed at her for thinking about her ex the night before their wedding, and then for breaking her promise to him and leaving with Gavin. He had a right to be pissed, dammit.
    But he also had an