by Liz Talley
Morgan entered the kitchen, her eyes riveting to his hand on Jess’s forearm. “What are y’all doing? We’re, like, starving out here.”
Ryan pulled away from Jess, snapping out of the trance she’d put him under. She had him discombobulated with the whole vulnerability thing. Jess had never been weak; she’d never asked anyone for anything in all the time he’d known her. Something about rescuing her appealed to his machismo.
Maybe he needed to step away from Jess and look for the man he’d been for the past year … before he had to go out and find tampons for his vagina. The thought made him smile. “I’m putting the fish on the grill now. Won’t take long. Morgan, you want to grab the plates?”
“Sure, babe,” she said, sliding past Jess, giving her a possessive look. Then the younger woman slid an arm around his waist and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t go getting the hots for our nurse friend here, Ry. Logan already asked her out. I told him we’d go with them to Perdido Key. A double date. Won’t that be fun?”
Ryan slid his arm around Morgan and gave her a quick squeeze. Jess’s gaze dropped to his hand on Morgan’s naked waist. “I see dolphins every day, Morgan. I’m not sure I want to waste a day off watching them.” He pulled away from her and occupied his hands with cleaning the knife he’d used earlier.
“No day is a waste when you’re with me, honey,” Morgan said, slapping him on his ass and grabbing the plates and napkins he sat on the table.
“You should come with us,” Jess said, her tone even. But he knew she didn’t want to go on a date with Logan alone. She wanted buffers. Had nothing to do with him, which sort of hurt. Why didn’t she tell Logan no? Why didn’t she put her arm around him and claim him … the way Morgan had been trying to do for the past month? If Jess was going to jump into the dating pool, why not do it with him?
He was afraid of that answer.
Maybe it was because he and Jess had history. He knew her past with Benton. But the biggest reason he feared she wouldn’t give him a shot at romance was he’d been the Brain. Being who’d he’d been all those years wasn’t something a guy got over easily. When he thought back to the boy he’d been, he winced. Horrible clothing—baggy parachute pants, ninja T-shirts, and Chucks—paired with thick glasses did nothing for him. He’d been painfully skinny, pale, and prone to forehead acne. His teeth had been yellowish, and he’d carried around a binder with Pokémon cards so he could easily trade at school with the other outcasts. When they’d finally found him in the storage closet in the gym, an ambulance had to be called. His reputation was hard to surmount. Then he’d made a thirty-six on the ACT and received the National Merit award … and gotten accepted into Mensa. With Jess, he couldn’t hide who he was beneath the tan, bleached teeth, and gym-honed muscles. She knew the real Ryan. She’d already seen the locked door to his truth.
“You don’t have a charter tomorrow. Marcus checked the marina log,” Morgan said, sliding past Jess. “It will be fun, and I promise not to get wasted this time.”
Jess’s eyes pleaded with him.
Like he could turn her down … or leave her to a very handsy Logan. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“Yay,” Morgan said, clapping her hands, leaving the galley.
Ryan shrugged and said in a sarcastic voice, “Yay.”
Jess was having a personality crisis.
That was the only explanation for why she acted the way she did. Who ran off to tattle when a guy asked her out? And to Ryan? Why was she treating him like the anchor he’d dropped in the Gulf half an hour ago?
Oh, Ryan, your friend asked me out. Should I? Or shouldn’t I? Oh, let’s do each other’s hair.
Crap on a cracker. Why would she run to him like a silly little girl?
But deep down inside she knew why. She couldn’t get Ryan out of her mind. Not the way he was years ago, but the way he was now. She’d never liked pushy people, Benton aside, so coming on strong like Logan had was an automatic turnoff. She much preferred Ryan’s charming, nonpushy approach. She knew he liked her—after all, he’d asked about his chances. But she wasn’t sure if that was merely his MO or if he’d been truly serious. After all, he’d pretty much admitted to being a guy who had been with a lot of women. And though she felt drawn to him, she wasn’t sure it wasn’t purely physical. When she’d touched his hand earlier, it had felt good. But she’d only touched his hand. She hadn’t tested any other waters. So was that the first spark of physical attraction? She knew he was very pretty to look at, but what would his lips feel like on hers? How unfamiliar would his hands be touching her arms, sliding lower?
It had been so long since she had to think about a relationship, she didn’t trust her instincts. After all, she’d had sex with only one man in her life.
Yeah. Benton Mason had been her one and only. She’d thought it had always been good between them in bed. Now she wondered. Maybe she hadn’t been adventurous enough, hadn’t worn enough sexy lingerie or given him enough attention. Maybe she wasn’t good in bed …
So as far as being an experienced woman of the world, Jess fell flat. But that was okay, because she was gathering new experiences. That word again. Experiences. And though Logan made her want to say no and disappear from the boat, she wouldn’t, because at some point she had to go on a date. And Logan seemed safe. He was nice, attractive, and obviously had a thing for dolphins. It would be fine … and added bonus, Morgan and Ryan were tagging along. Conversation wouldn’t lag, no chance for intimacy or an awkward good-bye kiss at the door. Going on a date with Logan would be easy.
“So, Jess, you work with Becky, huh?” Logan said, drying off with a towel. He had a farmer’s tan—lily-white stomach and chest, tanned arms. He also had a goatee and shaved his head. Maybe because he had a receding hairline? She couldn’t tell, because he seemed to be a blond. The gold hair sprinkled on his forearms spelled out as much. He had a nice smile and crinkly blue eyes that reminded her of her brother. In fact, he reminded her of her brother, Rob, a lot.
“Yes, I’m a contract nurse, and I’m filling in for two nurses on maternity leave. I’m from Mississippi.”
“Oh, so you’re only here for …”
“Three or four months. But I like the hospital. Becky has been good to me, helping me meet new people.” There. That didn’t sound too antisocial. She sounded like someone who liked people. Which she did, most of the time.
“So will you travel around to other places? Or go back home?”
Back home. She couldn’t imagine not going back home. She loved Morning Glory because it was the perfect little town. Close enough to Jackson for decent shopping and good restaurants, far enough away to keep the small-town charm. And Morning Glory had small-town charm in spades—an old tiled bank with a broken clock out front, a town square with ancient oak trees, and a crumbling courthouse surrounded by magnolia trees and pretty crepe myrtles that bloomed a vivid pink in the heat of summer. There was a gazebo, a duck pond, old redbrick elementary schools, and exactly ten stoplights. There were festivals and parades and high school football on Friday nights. Why would she want to live anywhere else?
Because Benton lived there and currently dated all the twentysomethings arriving back home after college. That was a good reason to stay away for a little while. Until she was strong enough. Until the pain, hate, and sadness didn’t burn inside her anymore.
“I’ll eventually go home, but I’ll also continue to work contract labor. Luckily I was able to lease my apartment to my friend’s fiancé, but that’s short-term. I’m finding it interesting working in a different city. I’m footloose and fancy free, so why not?” Hard to say those last words. She stared out at the gentle waters of the Gulf, letting their magic work on her.
“That’s awesome,” Logan said, sinking down beside her.
His thighs had freckles on them. Definitely a blond. Or he could have red hair.
Ryan emerged from inside with a small catering table. “I’m going to set this here and then bring out the fixings. It will be easie
r to serve out here rather than everyone crowding inside.”
Jess studied Ryan as he competently set up the table. He’d taken off his shirt and wore a pair of board shorts that looked new. She gathered he’d never found the ones he’d lost the night of his birthday. That brought to mind his big, nude body sprawled in the sand. His body was amazing. Beat Marcus and Logan by a country mile. Ryan was hard, lean, and … very sexy. His ruffed hair looked suitably beachy, his Ray-Bans hid those green eyes, and his smile made her toes tingle.
And he wanted her.
What the hell was wrong with her?
Ryan Reyes had grown into the total package. He was gorgeous, fun, charming, understanding, silly, crazy smart, and sexy. Yeah. Very sexy. And she wanted to touch him. Feel his warmth. Indulge in him like he was a decadent piece of chocolate. Ryan made her laugh and feel herself again. Perhaps he was the perfect man to heal her wounds … perhaps he was the perfect man to jump into bed with. She longed to feel the excitement of a new romance—desire, joy, and crushing paranoia of wondering if it was all too good to be true. She’d felt it only once, but she remembered how horrible and beautiful it was at the same time. So was she really going to stick to friendship because it was safer?
“Here we go,” Ryan said, pointing to several plates with chopped vegetables and slaw, drawing her thoughts away from the indecision that haunted her. For some reason indecision had become her shadow. She didn’t like feeling that way.
“So impressive,” Becky drawled, rising and giving Marcus an appraising look. Her gaze snagged on Jess’s, and she smiled. Obviously, Ryan had been right about Becky liking Marcus. “I love a man who can cook.”
“It’s not so rare these days. I’m terrific on the grill myself,” Marcus said, stepping beside Becky.
“And so humble about it,” her friend teased Marcus.
Jess pulled her legs up again and stared out across the waters. The dolphins had disappeared, and the sun sagged toward the horizon, casting a golden glow. Everything looked soft, reminding Jess life wasn’t so hard. She should focus on chilling. Not analyzing every glance and touch.
“Not hungry?” Ryan said, sitting down on the bench beside her. He handed her one of the beers she’d brought made by a local brewery that specialized in small batches.
She took a sip. “Good beer. No, I’m going to eat. Just letting everyone else go first.”
“Ah, in your nature.”
“What?”
“Being kind.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not all that kind. In fact, I can be super mean. Ask my brother, Rob. He loves to bring up my past role of torturous older sister.” Jess smiled and thought about touching his arm again. “If you don’t want to go on that dolphin-watching expedition, you don’t have to. I didn’t mean for you to get roped into it.”
Ryan looked out at the sunset. “You didn’t rope me into it. Morgan did.”
“Do you like her?”
His gaze jerked back to hers. “Who? Morgan?”
God, why had she asked that? Of course, she knew why. She didn’t want him to want any other woman, yet she’d told him a few days ago she wasn’t ready for more than what they now had … which was still undefined. “It’s just you spend a lot of time together.”
“We’re friends,” he said, lifting a shoulder, “and neighbors.”
“So are we.”
Ryan’s lips curved, and he moved his leg closer to hers. Not because he wanted to, but because Becky needed to squeeze by. “Yeah, but it’s not the same.”
“Why? Because we knew each other back in high school?” she asked, lowering her voice.
“No, because I don’t want to be just your friend, Jess.” She watched his hand as it brushed her inner knee, faint as butterfly wings. The soft friction shot straight to her belly, careening through her. The combination of his words and touch seared her.
“Ryan,” she whispered.
“Just know that. Go on the date with Logan, but know I want you.”
Jess swallowed hard and lifted her gaze to his, but he rose. He wasn’t giving her time to respond.
“Let me get you a beer, Logan,” Ryan said, scooting around Morgan, who once again had caught Jess in an intimate conversation with him. Morgan bit into a tortilla chip and chewed thoughtfully, her eyes resting on Jess.
The thrill she felt at Ryan’s admission faded as unease crept inside. Morgan had been obvious in her pursuit of Ryan. From the birthday party to the implied statements on the way over to the marina, Morgan had plunged a flag into her territory, claiming Ryan as her own. Jess wanted to smack Morgan’s hand and say not so fast. The other part of her wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard Ryan’s soft words, that she didn’t feel tingly around him. It would make better sense to ignore the fireworks and focus on herself. She didn’t need a man to heal her. She could heal herself. Anything more didn’t make sense.
Ah, being sensible.
She’d done sensible. She’d set her course, bulldozing her way into the life she’d thought she should have because it was the way a person did things. Make a plan, follow the steps, keep focused. No stepping outside a comfort zone, no deviating, no second-guessing.
But that hadn’t worked out, had it? So why should she back off the feeling she had for Ryan and do the sensible thing?
She rose, straightening her shoulders with conviction. If she wanted Ryan, and he wanted her, what was the problem? They were grown-up people who could do grown-up things. In fact, she should be doing very, very grown-up—and possibly downright dirty—things with Ryan.
Grabbing a plate, she waited behind Logan to try some of the fresh tuna Ryan had grilled. Morgan stood up suddenly and brushed against her. Very softly, her new neighbor said, “You’re not right for him.”
Jess jerked her eyes to Morgan’s, shocked the younger woman had been so obvious. But then, standing on Ryan’s boat, obliged to a date she didn’t want with an accountant, Jess found the part of herself she’d shoved behind heartache and forgotten. That Jess didn’t take shit from anyone. She smiled at Morgan and took a chip off the woman’s plate. Sliding around her, she bit into the tortilla chip and said, “We’ll see about that.”
And that made her feel like her old self.
Chapter Eight
Ryan had just stepped out of the shower when his cell phone buzzed. He walked over to the nightstand, scrubbed his face, and stared down at the screen.
Martha Reyes.
His brain spun through all the possibilities in a nanosecond, landing on something’s wrong, so you better answer it.
He picked up the phone, wrapped the towel around his waist, and pressed the button to answer the call. But of course, he had answered too late. Sighing, he flopped back on the bed, preparing for the worst. His father had high cholesterol, but he’d talked the man out of taking statins and into a better lifestyle. His father had dropped weight and lowered his triglycerides. His mother had back issues, but who knew at her age? Breast cancer had killed his maternal grandmother before he was old enough to know her. As his parents neared their seventies, a plethora of health problems awaited them. Today could be the start of a new one.
Dialing the number stamped in his memory, Ryan prepared for the worst.
“Ryan, thank goodness. I worried when you didn’t answer,” his mother said, breathless. Was that a symptom or merely her body’s natural response to hurrying to the phone?
“I was in the shower.”
“Oh good,” she huffed.
Then his mother didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Anxiety fluttered in his gut.
“Uh, so is everything okay?” he asked, sitting up, bracing for the news his grandmother, ensconced in Pleasant Acres Retirement Center, was in the hospital, or perhaps his mother might utter the C word. His grandmother had been the one person who’d made him feel normal. He wasn’t ready to lose her … even though he knew he should have been visiting her. Guilt sledgehammered him.
“Everyone is fine,” his mother sa
id.
“Oh,” he replied. So why had she called him? She never called. She and his father were still resentful over him leaving Caltech to “drive around a fishin’ boat.” “So you called for … ?”
“I haven’t talked to you since March. Can’t a mother call her child?”
“Sure. Oh, thank you for the birthday gift.”
“That’s the sunscreen they recommended in Good Housekeeping. It blocks the UV rays better or something like that. I guess you need something like that since you’re out in the sun all day. Your father picked out the hat. Some kid at Loston’s said it was a preferred hat by outdoorsmen. That’s what you are now, I guess.” She sounded quite sad about it, too.
“You can still call me Doc if you want to. My degrees didn’t disappear the day I bought the Beagle.” He used a light voice because he wasn’t in the mood to argue with her … or rather, engage in passive-aggressive behavior where she pretended to be supportive of his decision but dropped not-so-subtle comments about him wasting his abilities.
“Ha-ha,” his mother tittered. “Oh, I was calling to make sure you got your birthday gift, but also because I saw Donna Culpepper at yoga last week, and she told me that her daughter, Jessica, is working in Pensacola. Of course, Donna didn’t know you live there, too.”
“Because you allow everyone to think I’m still in California working on my speech for the Nobel Prize?”
“I don’t let anyone think anything, Ryan James. But I don’t know why I would tell anyone you’re down there drivin’ men around to catch fish half of them won’t consume anyhow. But I don’t want to talk about your new trade. Just wanted you to keep your eyes open for one of your old classmates.”
It struck Ryan why his mother had called him. She didn’t want anyone in Morning Glory to know her boy wonder now ran a fishing charter service. Not when she’d received so much recognition for his many accomplishments. The Morning Glory Herald had written several articles about his achievements, the last of which was selling his medical advancement to a major pharmaceutical company. He understood objectively that many parents received worth through the achievement of their children, so that didn’t make his mother atypical. Perhaps shallow, but not abnormal. His mother had never been shallow, of course … not that she would admit.
