“Tessa,” he said softly, looking from side to side for a second. “I have to tell you something about me. Something you didn’t ask in your interview.”

Interesting, since he didn’t even answer the questions she did ask. Still, she waited, dying to see where he’d go with this.

“I don’t shy away from anything,” he finally said. “When I see something I want, I get it.” He gave her a hard, straight look.

Did he mean the job as chef or…her?

“So, what are you here to get?”

“My plan is that we start all over again.” Reaching down, he lifted her hand and very slowly drew off the gardening glove, sliding one finger out at a time out of the rough canvas. She couldn’t do anything but stare at his large, tanned, masculine hand undressing her much smaller one, her throat parched and every nerve ending dancing at the touch.

“We could shake on it,” he said, dropping the glove to the ground but still holding her hand. His skin was warm. A little rough, a little dry, but very warm. “But I’d rather do this.”

He lifted her fingers to his lips, barely brushing the knuckles, the sensation shooting fireworks down her arms. “To new beginnings, pretty Tessa. A new job, and a new…” He looked up from her hand and met her gaze, his own so serious she forgot to breathe again. “Friendship.”

For a moment, she stared at him, a thousand emotions erupting like a volcano in her chest. Disbelief and excitement and desire and disbelief and longing and—yeah, mostly disbelief.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Well, I’m not really trusting by nature, so I’m fighting the sensation that you might be full of shit.”

He laughed. “I deserve a chance.”

Did he? “And you’ll probably get one, but what happened?”

He lifted both brows. “I want the job.”

“So you’re suddenly Prince Charming? After being guarded, evasive, and walking out in the middle of an interview?”

He curled his fingers around her hand and sighed with resignation. “I guess I’m going to have to do some seriously high-quality groveling.”

“Major high,” she agreed.

“Let’s start with dinner tonight. We can finish the interview.”

Obviously, he didn’t know she’d called all his references and they glowed like polished gold, and he certainly didn’t know about the wedding planners and the urgent need for a chef. Instead, he’d come to grovel and take her to dinner.

“I’ll give you time to clean up and change for our date,” he said, as if she might be looking for an excuse to say no.

As if a groveling man offering dinner and looking like a sex god fell into her lap on a daily basis.

“I thought it was an interview,” she said.

He shrugged. “You call it an interview, I call it a date.”

“I call it a pretty remarkable turnaround for the guy who suggested a one-night stand of tongue-tattooing the last time we talked about going out.”

His smile was sinfully slow and so damn confident. “Haven’t you ever changed your mind about something,Tessa? Ever looked at a situation in the light of day and realized you’d need a new approach to get what you want?”

She tried to ignore the little thrill of his words and be smart about this. “What about trust?”

He lifted his brows. “What about it?”

“Did you change your mind about the advice you gave me in the bar? Or don’t you remember when your one                word about trusting you was ‘Don’t’?”

She could have sworn a little bit of color left his face.

“How else are you going to know if you should or not unless you have dinner with me?”

She couldn’t argue with that logic. Or maybe she just didn’t want to.

          It wasn’t all that difficult to find Leah, once Jack set his mind to it.  Since the beginning of time, when she’d been troubled, she’d been drawn to two things.

Him.

And the ocean.

She hadn’t come to him.  That was new.  There’d been a time when she’d have come to him no matter what was troubling her.

Except, of course, at the moment he was the source of her trouble, even though it was of her own making.  The last time that had been the case, she’d left Lucky Harbor.

But he knew she couldn’t leave now.  She was here for her grandma, and though Leah had plenty of faults, her grandma meant too much to her.  Unlike himself…  He tried not to resent that, but there was no getting around the fact – he did resent it.  He was pissed off that she had no idea what she meant to him, back then.

Or now.

His heart squeezed a little, making room for a few other emotions besides his temper.  Empathy.  Maybe even reluctant affection.  He could’ve gotten into the water with her, but it was after midnight and Christ, he was tired.

Nothing good ever happens after midnight.

His mom had always said so, and in this case, he was willing to bet it was true.  So he sat on the sand, positioned halfway between her car and the water, giving her no easy escape.  And waited.

And brooded. Because he was having lots of odd and unexpected urges as it pertained to Leah, and he didn’t know what to do about them.  Once upon a time, she’d been the only highlight in his day, the only one to make him smile.  She was still that person, but there was something new between them, and he wasn’t sure if it was good.  In fact, he was pretty sure he should be running like hell.

Finally, she swam in, and then she was standing up in the water, and he nearly swallowed his tongue.  It’d been a damn long time since he’d seen her in a bathing suit.  Maybe since high school, when she’d been a head taller than all the other girls and skinny as hell.

She was still tall but she’d filled out in all the right places and then some.  She wore a black bikini, nothing but a few straps low on her hips and two triangles over her breasts, and as a wave knocked her around a little, everything jiggled enticingly.

And suddenly he went from slightly chilled to very overheated.  Good Christ, she was … beautiful.  It should’ve assuaged his simmering temper just looking at her, but instead it stoked it, making him tense as hell.

Leah, on the other hand, was looking pretty carefree as she lifted her arms and shoved back her hair.

At the sight, his brain utterly clicked off.

She saw him then.  He could tell because, from one blink of an eye to the next, she froze every single muscle.  It’d have been fascinating to watch, except for the fact that she was freezing up over him.  She’d never reacted this way before.  He didn’t like it.  And besides, he was the wronged party here.  He was the one who got to be pissy.

“You’re still here,” she said flatly. “You scared me.”

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings.”

Dripping water everywhere, she crossed her arms over herself.  “It’s Lucky Harbor.”

He rose to his feet.  “Bad shit can happen anywhere.”

She met his gaze for one brief beat and then looked away.  “What are you doing here, Jack?”

“I figured as your ‘almost fiancé,’ I should see how you’re doing.”

She winced but didn’t respond.

“What the hell is this all about, Leah?”

“You know it’s about your mom’s cancer,” she said, hugging herself a little tighter.

She always got defensive when she screwed up, and since she’d screwed up a lot, she had a lot of practice.

“My mom has enough going on,” he said.  “She doesn’t need to be lied to.”

“Maybe not.  But she does need to be happy to heal.  And this made her happy.  All week she’s been glowing.”

He knew it was true, and a stab of guilt hit him that he hadn’t been able to make her happy without help.

Leah didn’t say anything more but she didn’t have to.  Yeah, she’d gotten them into this mess, but he knew damn well it’d been out of the goodness of her heart.  Jack knew that she thought she owed him for all those years ago, when he’d done his best to protect her, the chivalry having been deeply ingrained by his dad.

But they were even.

In the dark, Leah shivered, and that chivalry had him torn between enjoying the sight of her cold and wanting to wrap her up in his arms.  “Where’s your towel?”

“In the car.”

He pulled off his sweatshirt and tugged it over her head.

“I’ll get it wet,” she said.

“It’ll dry.”

“I’m—”

“Just wear the damn sweatshirt, Leah.”

There was an awkward silence while they stared at each other as behind her the water pounded the shore.

“I realize that this is really hard for you,” she finally said, pulling on his sweatshirt.  “Having everyone think you like me that way.  You’ll just have to pretend.”

He narrowed his eyes.  Had that been sarcasm?  Or…

Hurt?  “There was a time when I wouldn’t have had to pretend anything,” he said.  “But you flaked out, remember?  You pretended, and then you left.”

She grimaced, swallowed hard, and looked away.  “We were just kids.”

Was that how it played in her head?  Seriously?  “Does it make you feel better?” he asked quietly.  “To downplay what we were to each other?”

She closed her eyes.  “We were friends, Jack.  Friends who’d made a quick, knee-jerk, stupid decision to become naked friends and sleep together.”

“Yeah.  And then one of the friends didn’t show,” he said, much more mildly than he felt.

“It was a bad idea.  I was leaving.”

“Which you forgot to mention.”

She dropped her head back and stared up at the sky.  “I couldn’t stay, Jack.”

He took in her expression, filled with memories, and nodded.  “I know.  But you should have told me you were going.”

“You had another girl in your bed by the following weekend.”

Had he?  Hell, probably.  But she wouldn’t have meant anything to him.  Not like Leah had.  His chest tightened at the memory of the hole she’d left in his life.  He didn’t want to go through that again.  “I missed you.”

She said nothing, and he shook his head.  Fuck it.  He started to walk away, and then she spoke.

“Brandi Metcalf.”

He stopped.  “What?”

“Brandi Metcalf was the one in your bed by the next weekend.”  She turned her head and glared at him.  “Pretty blonde Brandi with the perfect boobs.”  She emphasized this by cupping her hands out in front of her own breasts.  “So don’t even try to tell me you missed me.”

He shook his head.  Apparently he wasn’t the only pissed-off one tonight.  “Okay,” he said.  “Let’s have it.”

“Let’s have what?”
“Well, I know why I’m pissed.  Why the hell are you pissed?”

“It’s not like it’s going to be a walk in the park for me either,” she said, giving him a little shot to the chest.  “Pretending to like you.”

“Me?” he asked, flabbergasted.  “What the hell is there not to like about me?”

The sound she made assured him that she had volumes on the subject.  “Don’t get me started.”

“I want to know,” he said.

“Fine.  You watch that stupid ice fishing show like it’s a religion, you’re a horrible backseat driver, you drink out of the milk carton – and fyi, so does Ben – you don’t put the cap on your toothpaste, or put the lid down on the toilet, and you shush me when you’re watching sports.”

He stared at her.  “That’s quite a list of shortcomings,” he eventually said.  “Is that all?”

“No.”  She shoved her wet hair from her face, though she managed to keep her regal stance, nose firmly in the air at nose-bleed heights.  “I held back because I didn’t want to be overly rude.”

He laughed softly.  “Don’t hold back, Leah.  Let’s hear all of it.”

“Well, your truck has more sporting goods than a store, you never say you’re sorry, and your girlfriends look like super models.  I mean what is that?  There’s nothing wrong with real boobs, you know!”

He took it all in and had to admit that he couldn’t say she was wrong, about any of it.  “And yet you call me The Picker.”

She ignored this.  “And your mom told me that you need knee surgery again.  You’re just too stubborn to get it done.  So you can add ornery to the list.”

He blew out a slow breath.  “It’s not ice fishing,” he said.  “It’s crabbing.  And sometimes I lose the cap on the toothpaste, or my dog eats it.  And I don’t need knee surgery, I’m fine.”

Leah snorted.  “You’re always ‘fine’.  Your knee could be falling off and you’d say you were fine.”

“I fail to see the problem.”

She snorted again, and he was starting to feel greatly insulted.  “You’re not exactly a walk in the park, Leah.”

“No?”

“No.  You’re flighty, you live for your every whim, you downplay any real emotion you feel.”

She hugged herself tight.  “Good thing this is all pretend then, isn’t it,” she said softly.

“Yeah.”

She was freezing.  And hauntingly gorgeous, so damn gorgeous standing there wet and silvery by the moon’s glow, like a goddess.  It’s Leah, he had to keep reminding himself.  Leah, who’d once beaten him in a marshmallow eating contest only to puke all over him.  Leah, whose dark green eyes had a way of telling the world to bite her.  Leah, who’d run off on him and left him heartbroken.  He took a step into her – for what exactly, he had no idea– and she poked a finger into his chest.

“God,” she said.  “You’re so …”  Words apparently failed her, but she let out a sound that managed to perfectly convey how annoying he was.

“Ditto,” he said, and then grabbed the finger drilling a hole between his pecs and tugged her hard enough that she lost her balance and fell against him.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, entangling a hand in her wet hair.

She went still as stone and stared into his eyes.  And then lowered her gaze to his mouth.

Yeah, they were in sync there.  Suddenly he couldn’t breathe.  Hers caught audibly in her throat, a good sign he decided.  Maybe she wouldn’t knee him in the balls.  Testing the waters, he grazed her jawline with his teeth.

She shivered.

Then he slid his mouth to the very corner of hers and was rewarded by the clutch of her hands on his shirt.  Having her hold on to him like this, like he was her only anchor, sent a bolt of lust straight through him.  “Leah,” he murmured, hearing the surprise in his own voice, feeling the heat course through him as he finally, God finally, covered her mouth with his.

Her lips parted for him eagerly, and he groaned, drowning in the erotic collision of her hot tongue and chilled, wet body.

Serious trouble.  He was in serious trouble.

Because he had a taste of her now, a damn good taste, and it was better than he could have imagined, making him want the rest of her.  With his fingers still in her hair, he pulled her in tighter, slanting his mouth across hers for more.  She moved with him, into him, making the connection all the sweeter.

No.  Sweet wasn’t the right word.

Hot.  She was so hot she was turning him inside out.  And then she made another of those soft, surrendering sighs deep in her throat, the sound slaying him.  She still had a death grip on his shirt and had managed to catch a few chest hairs while she was at it.  He didn’t care.  Sliding a hand beneath his sweatshirt, he cupped her ass over her wet bikini bottoms, rocking into her.

She had to feel what this was doing to him.  And given that she was breathing like she was running out of air, and still holding onto him tight enough to bruise, she also had to know where this was going.

Jack kissed Leah some more, sinking deeper into her taste, her softness, her scent, all while wondering how the hell she could drive him crazy and made him ache at the same time.  It was a feat that totally wrecked his equilibrium.  Maybe it was just the kiss.  Because holy shit, the kiss.  He still had a handful of her sweet ass, and he squeezed, wanting more.  But they were outside and the night’s temp was quickly dropping.  She was wet, trembling with the chill, and there was absolutely nowhere to go with this.  Not here, not now.  He’d had no business kissing her like he had an end game, and knowing it, he regretfully pulled back.

She blinked as if waking up from a dream.  “What—”  She cleared her throat.  “What was that?”

“Insanity.  It’s going around.”

“Jake!” Grandma peered around the mannequin and yelled. “Help her out of that dress! We have a wedding emergency! Hurry!”

“Right.” Jake released Char’s hand and shook his head as he took a step away. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve helped you out of your clothes, huh, Char?”

And special moment gone.

Ignoring the burning sensation on her face, Char walked into the dressing room and pulled the curtain.

“Don’t you need help?” came Jake’s voice.

“I think I know how to undress myself, Jake.”

“Yes.” His warm chuckle made Char want to smack him. Shivering, she reached for the zipper. “But when I do it, it’s unforgettable. That’s all I’m saying.”

Fine. She’d had enough. Refusing to let him think she was afraid of him touching her, she took his challenge. With a huff Char pulled open the curtain. “Prove it.”

His eyes widened and then a wicked smile curved his lips. “My pleasure.”

The way the man said “pleasure” did really unfortunate things to Char’s body, things that made her re-think her rash decision.

“Where’s the zipper?”

“Aww… can’t find it? That happen to you often, Jake? Can’t find the zipper, where does my equipment go…”

“Oh that, I never have problems with. You should know.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she watched him close the curtain and then do a turning motion with his finger.

She turned around and faced the mirror. Jake placed his hands on her shoulders then ran them down both of her arms. She would not shiver, she would not react!

He placed his hands on her hips, then unzipped the dress. Slowly he ran his hands back up the sides of her body, all the way until he hit just below her breasts. Her breath hitched as he winked at her in the mirror, bypassing her breasts and finding the fastener behind her neck.

Char chewed on her lower lip as she watched him delicately undo the fastener and then held the dress to her body so it wouldn’t fall.

“You have beautiful hair.” He ran a few pieces through his fingers and sighed, locking eyes with her in the mirror.

He wasn’t smiling. Was he seriously paying her a compliment? To her face? Or her reflection?

“I, uhh—”

“It’s just a compliment, Char. Not a proposal.”

She blushed profusely. “Thank you.”

The way he looked at her made her feel naked. And now she remembered why things had gone haywire in the first place. She never knew which Jake she was talking to. The one who had been her friend when she was little, or the millionaire playboy who had no soul.

Char doubted he even knew which one he was. She just needed to make sure she remembered, lest she end up with a broken heart again.

“Everyone decent?” Grandma called from the other side of the curtain.

Jake stepped back and winked. “Unfortunately.”

Char felt her face heat.

“Damn,” Grandma called. “You’ve lost your touch, son.”

“Don’t I know it.” He licked his lips and nodded one last time at Char before stepping on the other side of the curtain.

Sometimes the right choice can be the deadliest. When Ellie Watt made the ultimate sacrifice for Camden McQueen, she never thought it would be easy. But walking away with her ex-lover, Javier Bernal, in order to ensure Camden’s safety has brought a whole new set of dangers. With Javier’s plans for Ellie growing more secretive by the moment, Ellie must find a way to stay ahead of the game before her past swallows her whole.

 Meanwhile, Camden’s new life is short-lived. Fueled by revenge and pursued by authorities, he teams up with an unlikely partner in order to save Ellie. But as Camden toes the line between love and retribution, he realizes that in order to get back the woman he loves, he may have to lose himself in the process. He might just turn into the very man he’s hunting.

                Javier shut the door behind me and flicked on the tall standing lamp in the corner, kitschy Mexican décor. “What side of the bed do you want?” he asked.

Then he proceeded to take off his suit. He flung the jacket onto an armchair across the room and began unbuttoning his shirt. I didn’t know where to look, my cheeks growing hot like I was a naïve teenager. I’d seen him shirtless before. Hell, I’d seen and felt every single part of that man. Still, it didn’t make the feeling go away.

“Feeling bashful?” Now his tone was smug.

I looked up and his shirt was off. His body was pretty much the same as I remembered, but wider, in a more athletic and lean kind of way. He’d grown into it and taken great care of his body over the years. His abs and arms looked like he’d do chin-ups in his spare time, yet it was still very elegant and subtle. His skin was a dark bronze, shadowed by the lamp.

“No,” I answered.

“Good.” And then his pants dropped.

And I’d totally forgotten he liked to go commando.

“Oh my god,” I cried out, shielding my eyes and facing the wall. “Please, put some pants on. Or underwear.”

“Say ‘Oh my god’ again, I liked the sound of it,” he said and I could hear him coming closer. “It reminds me of old times.”

“Javier, I’m serious.”

“When are you not serious, Ellie?”

I kept my eyes clamped shut until he started shuffling through the drawers. “Okay, okay, calm down. There, I have pants on now.”

I bent down and snapped up my pajama bottoms and a t-shirt then walked past him to the door, not wanting to risk a look in his direction. When I came out of the bathroom, after a long, hot and much-needed shower, he was already in bed with the lights off. This was exactly what I was counting on. I wanted to go to sleep on my side of the bed and be done with it. No thinking about the situation, no chit chat.

I carefully closed the door and eased my way across the room, my bare feet padding on the woven rugs, the moonlight outside the open window illuminating my passage. With the sea breeze coming in and the sound of the fishing boats rising and falling in their berths, the whole thing was soothing. Even romantic.

I crawled in, pulling only the sheet over my body and faced the wall. The moon was bright on my face.

After a few moments, when my heart rate had started to calm and I was beginning to forget where I was, Javier called out softly. “Angel?”

I wanted to pretend to be asleep. I wanted to ignore him. But he’d used a name I hated and I was sick of hearing it.

“Please don’t call me that,” I whispered back, pulling sheet closer around my shoulders.

He turned over in the bed and suddenly he was right behind me, causing the hairs on my neck to rise. “Why not?”

I tried to steady my breath. “I’m not your angel.”

“You’re someone’s angel. God’s.”

“God’s? How can you call me an angel when you think I’m no good?”

He was silent for a moment. Waves crashed outside.

“There are fallen angels, too. Angels with dirty wings.”

“Lucifer was a fallen angel,” I pointed out.

“You’re right. But Lucifer had no moral code. You and I, angel, I think we fell somewhere in between all of that. We made our place. Our own home.”

I closed my eyes at his words, my soul and heart and everything getting sucked back into a vortex of memories, all bright, shiny, and good. Memories of him and I together, memories I thought I’d done away with.

His lips were at my ear, his warm hand on my shoulder, holding me in place rather than giving comfort. Instead of stiffening, my whole body relaxed into it.

“We evolved, Ellie,” he whispered, sending shivers down my back. “And we’ll keep evolving.” Then he moved away, back to his side of the bed, cozying up under the covers.

I didn’t fall asleep for hours.