by Helen Lacey
The river mouth was one of Evie’s favorite places. The inlet was one of the most pristine waterways in the state, and the local residents association, along with the rest of the tightly knit community, ensured that it stayed that way with regular patrols and rubbish collection. Jays Island was two hundred meters from the beach and had once been a part of the mainland. Through erosion and sand trenching to allow sugarcane ferries to pass, the island was now home to nesting herons and returning sea turtles.
“This is a great spot,” he said as he placed the sailboard on the sand and flipped off his shoes. Evie did the same and her eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it at his feet.
He had a magnificent chest and was so well cut she couldn’t pull her gaze away. His smooth, bronzed skin stretched over hard, defined muscles. Flawless pecs, biceps, abs...he had it all. And she kept looking, absorbed by the beauty of him and the sheer magnitude of such physical perfection. Her fingertips tingled, as if they knew, somehow, that she wanted to reach out and touch him, to explore the contours of his smooth chest and then trace lower, down his superbly flat abdomen and lower still, to where his...
“Evie?”
His voice felt like a bucket of cold water. She knew her cheeks scorched. He smiled and she wanted the ground to open up and suck her in. “I’m...ready,” she said unsteadily.
“You’ll be more comfortable out of those clothes,” he said, and grabbed a safety vest. “And you’ll need to put this on,” he said, and placed the vest beside her feet.
Evie shook her head. “I don’t think—”
“Trust me,” he said, so easily, so quietly, Evie’s resistance faded. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and slowly pulled it over her shoulders. Scott began maneuvering the sail and didn’t watch her very unseductive striptease. Evie felt a mixture of relief and mortification. She’d watched him as if she’d been starved of the sight of a man’s body, but he showed absolutely no interest in watching her remove her T-shirt. Her self-esteem spiked, dwindled and then crashed to her feet as her fingers hovered on the waistband of her shorts.
Flaws. She wasn’t twenty-five anymore. She had thighs she worked hard to keep toned but hadn’t quite managed to maintain, and a behind she knew was fuller than what was considered fashionable. She had the body of a thirty-six-year-old woman—a woman who’d borne a child, a woman who looked and felt every year of her age as she considered the gorgeous young man beside her.
“Ready?” he asked, still not looking at her.
Why did I ever agree to this? Sand, crystal-clear water, swimsuits...she was asking for trouble. “Yes, sure.” She tossed her flip-flops aside, stripped off her shorts as mechanically as she could and quickly pushed her arms into the safety vest.
“And you said you could swim?”
Her hands stilled on the task of clipping the vest and she nodded. “Reasonably.”
“Good,” he replied, still not looking at her. “Let’s go.”
Humiliation morphed into a slowly rising indignation. Okay, so her body wouldn’t win prizes on the catwalk—but it wasn’t totally unsightly, either.
Look at me. The words burned on the edge of her tongue. Look at me, or I’ll...
He turned, stopped his task and straightened. And he did look at her. The same kind of look he’d given her in the living room the day before—long, leisurely and with the purpose of admiring. For a crazy second Evie forgot her flaws. Her perfectly respectable one-piece swimsuit suddenly felt like the most seductive piece of fabric on the planet.
Something whirled between them. Her skin prickled with awareness, her breasts felt heavy and sensitive and they pushed against the safety vest. It was as if her body had suddenly taken on a life of its own, betraying her, laughing at her.
“Come on,” he said quietly, tipping his attention back to the board and forcing Evie to pull her thoughts away from having a deep lip-lock with the gorgeous man in front of her. “We don’t want to waste this wind.”
Evie followed him to the water’s edge. And he was right—it was a good day for it. The wind was up, but the water was enticingly warm. There were a few people on the beach, some swimming, a young couple playing fetch with their dog and a stick and a trio of teenagers burying each other in the sand.
Scott explained the board and sail and how to position her feet, and Evie was agonizingly aware of his close proximity. But he was a good teacher. He was patient and considerate and didn’t push her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Her first attempts were disastrous, dumping them both in the water every time. But after a while she managed to maintain some balance and work the sail. She felt him behind her, felt his arms touch hers every time she maneuvered the sail to catch the breeze, and felt his chest against her back as he supported them on the narrow board.
He’s really something else, she thought vaguely. The little voice in her head—the one which had been taunting her for the past two days, continued its assault. She wobbled and lost balance. Scott quickly tightened his hold and straightened the sail.
“Concentrate,” he said against her ear, and Evie felt the warmth of his breath against her skin. She shivered right down her toes, despite the hot sun beating down on them. “And relax.”
“I’m trying,” she said, way too breathlessly, and knew she would never relax while he held her.
His body was suddenly closer, his hold firmer, more intimate, and Evie leaned into the support of his broad chest. Scott’s arms cradled her like a safety net, and his hands half covered hers on the boom as the board skimmed across the water. She could feel his thighs against her bottom, and a sharp pleasure arrowed deep down in her belly. Her long-ignored libido did a wild leap, heating her blood.
And then, as he held her, it somehow became more than lust, more than an unexpected physical awakening. Something else was happening. Her heart pumped wildly and she experienced a kind of silly giddiness.
She leaned back farther, felt his chin against her hair and the tension suddenly coiling through his body. Now who needs to relax? She almost said the words. But the wind blew up and Evie pushed her concentration back to her task.
Half an hour later he steered the board toward the shore and they stepped off.
“Incredible,” Evie said, and took a few much-needed breaths as Scott pulled the sailboard onto the sand. “I can’t believe how much fun that was.”
“Now who sounds like an adrenaline junkie?” he said, and grabbed a towel.
Evie smiled and rubbed her skin dry. “Who would have imagined it?”
He looked at her. “I think a person could spend a lifetime getting to know you, Evie, and still be surprised.”
Her belly rolled. Oh...I’m in so much trouble here.
She did her best to ignore the ever-growing awareness and minutes later they had their clothes back on and were headed for the surf club to return the gear. When they got back to the clubhouse, there was a police car parked outside.
“Trouble?” Scott asked.
Evie shrugged, and then changed to a shake of her head when she spotted Cameron Jakowski, dressed in his regulation blue police uniform, walking across the threshold of the automatic doors.
“Hey, Evie,” he greeted, juggling a few tins of paint, some brushes and a roller.
He was charming, handsome, Noah’s best friend and she’d known him all her life. “What are you doing here?” she asked, stopping in front of the building.
Cameron motioned to the equipment in his hands. “We’ve had some graffiti problems at the community hall,” he explained. “A few of the kids from the Big Brother program are giving me a hand with a quick-cover paint job.” He smiled. “I ran out of paint and paintbrushes.”
“Did you catch the culprits?” she asked.
“Not yet,” he said, and looked at her companion i
nquiringly.
Evie didn’t miss the look. With the sailboard between them, towels flung over their shoulders and sand-encrusted feet, she was certain Cameron’s curiosity was in overdrive. She quickly made introductions and they talked for a short while about the upcoming wedding until Cameron said he had to get back to the trio of teenage boys he mentored.
“You know,” he said to Scott as he opened the car door, “if you’ve got some free time while you’re here I’m sure the boys would like to hear something about your job. We meet every Wednesday night at the community hall around seven. Guests speakers are always welcome.” He dumped the equipment into the passenger seat of his police vehicle. “Evie will show you where.” He looked at Evie and winked. “Let me know.”
Once he’d left and they’d returned their gear, she followed Scott back to the motorcycle and waited while he tucked the towels beneath the seat. He hesitated passing her the helmet.
He looked at her oddly. “Old boyfriend?”
Evie frowned. “Cameron? God, no,” she replied. “He goes through women like they’re...well, let’s just say he has a short attention span and leave it at that.”
“And you’d like someone with a long attention span?” he asked. “Is that it?”
Evie’s skin warmed and she tugged the helmet from his hands. “As much as the next woman,” she said. “I’d like to think I could at least hold his attention for longer than one night.”
Scott’s heart thundered in his chest. Because Evie Dunn had his attention. Every last bit of it. He got on the bike and didn’t move a muscle when she slid behind him and rested her hands on his waist. But he felt the heat of her touch as if she were branding him with her fingertips.
Scott sucked in a breath and started the Harley. The sooner he took her home, the better. And there would be no more sailboarding. No more skin-to-skin contact. No more having to try to keep his hands to himself. And definitely no more of that damned sexy swimsuit that revealed just enough of her to turn him inside out.
When they got back to the house, Scott heard her faintly thank him for the lesson. She took off quickly and he was glad for it. He remained outside for a while, thinking. Thinking that a hotel would be a good idea. At least it would take him away from the temptation that was Evie Dunn.
He walked around the garden, determined to get his body in check. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this...maybe never. It sure as hell had snuck up on him from out of nowhere. He was lusting after something...someone...he couldn’t have. And it was damned inconvenient.
Scott walked around the garden some more, inspecting things with more than his usual detail. Okay, so gardens weren’t his thing. Evie obviously liked it, though—he could tell that by the extraordinary array of greenery and foliage and flowering plants that curved around pathways and climbed over small rock walls. There was a small wishing well in the center of the garden. An old timber plaque leaned against the edge, inviting those inclined to drop in a coin and make a wish.
“It all goes to charity.”
Scott swiveled on his heel. Evie had come up behind him with the stealth of a cat. She’d changed her clothes, too. The skirt was long but somehow sexy the way it moved across her legs as she stepped closer. And her hair was loose and hung like a crown around her head, highlighting the amazing color of her eyes and perfectly shaped mouth. He couldn’t drag his gaze away from her, couldn’t seem to make himself look elsewhere.
“Sorry?” he heard himself say, and wondered why she’d followed him into the garden.
She pointed to the well. “The money from the wishes,” she explained. “I scoop it out once a year and donate it to a charity.”
“It’s not making you rich, then?”
She smiled. “Hardly. People don’t seem to believe in wishes all that much anymore.”
Scott crossed his arms. “Do you?” he asked, feeling hot and tense all of a sudden, and knowing it was because he couldn’t stop thinking about Evie’s incredibly kissable mouth.
“Do I believe in wishes?” She took another step toward the well and peered into it. “I’m not sure. I guess that would be like saying I believe in magic.” She stepped back. “I haven’t thought about magic for a long time.”
“And did you have magic with your husband?” Scott had no idea where the question came from, or why he was asking it. It was intensely personal—and way out of line. And he was even more astounded when she responded.
“A kind of magic, I suppose.” She pushed a stray pebble back between the cracks in the stone pavers with her sandal. “Loving someone can feel like that—like you can do anything, achieve anything.” She stopped, looked at him and gave a wry smile. “I’m not normally so sentimental.”
Neither was he. But being around Evie pushed his buttons—all kinds of buttons. And some of them seemed to border on sentimental. Romantic, even. He looked at her, felt the vibrations coming off her pierce through him. Whatever he was feeling, he was pretty sure she was feeling it, too.
Somehow, she was suddenly in front of him. She looked as though she wanted to say something but stopped. Then her gaze lifted up to meet his. It was all he needed. His arms moved around her and after a flash of resistance, her palms rested against his chest.
And because he knew that at that moment there was nothing else for either of them, Scott took a breath and then kissed her amazing mouth.
Chapter Five
At some point a voice of reason was going to interrupt and tell Evie to stop kissing Scott Jones. Or get him to stop kissing her. Either way, she knew it had to end. Kisses like this weren’t real. They were the stuff of fairy tales and silly movies. The kind of kisses her friend Fiona swooned over and insisted were so worth waiting for.
Okay—so being kissed by Scott was worth waiting for. In fact, as his mouth slanted over her own to deepen the contact, the thrill of it jolted every inch of skin covering her bones. The man certainly knew how to kiss.
But it really has to stop...
Only...when his hands moved across her hips and drew her against him, Evie lost all coherent thought. She felt his breath, his lips, his tongue, and she returned the kiss, wary at first, giving a little, taking more and really feeling for the first time since...forever. No woman could resist this, a faraway voice taunted. No flesh-and-blood woman would want to.
And Evie was quickly discovering she was very much a flesh-and-blood woman—and that she liked kissing Scott. She liked it so much her skin was searing and her blood felt molten hot in her veins. Desire...the little voice sang out again. That’s what this was. Lust. Hunger. Sex.
Sex without love? Could she do that? Making love when love had nothing to do with it? Evie knew she simply wasn’t built that way. No matter how divine his mouth felt.
He must have sensed her growing reticence because he ended the kiss and gently released her. “I’m guessing you don’t think this is a good idea?”
Evie’s skin heated. “Do you?”
“It’s just a kiss.” He said the words casually.
Evie frowned. “I’m not indiscriminate,” she said as she turned her head to look back at the house, wondering if the Manning sisters were peeking through the curtains. The last thing she wanted was to get caught making out with Scott. “Anyway,” she said, catching her breath and trying valiantly to look in control. “The reason I came out here was to tell you that Callie called. She’s expecting you tonight about six.”
He nodded. “She asked me over for dinner. Would you like to come with me?”
Sensible Evie came quickly to her rescue. Thank goodness. Otherwise she might have been tempted to say yes. “I’m teaching a class tonight.”
“Too bad for me, then.”
Her heart skipped, then flipped, then almost got caught in her throat. “Okay—so I’ll see you later.” She turned and left,
not quite running, but close enough to it to look like a first-rate idiot.
Evie buried herself in her studio for the following couple of hours and waited until she heard the loud rumble of the motorcycle leaving before she returned to the house. The Kellers were out for the evening and she made swift work of preparing a light supper of soup and buttered herb bread for Flora and Amelia before heading back to the studio by seven o’clock for her class.
In her studio Evie usually found a kind of peace. Only she was so distracted the peace she craved didn’t come. All she had was a head full of thoughts about Scott. She’d forgotten how good kissing was and how much she’d missed it. And she’d forgotten how it felt to be held. She’d forgotten strong arms and broad shoulders. She’d forgotten everything. No, not forgotten, but shut out...left to linger along with memories of a husband she’d loved and never imagined she could replace.
Kissing Scott had felt good. Too good. But it wouldn’t go anywhere. It couldn’t.
He’s twenty-seven. I’m thirty-six. A math genius she wasn’t—but no amount of thinking could make her see their ages as anything other than an impossible divide between two people with completely different lives. He’s all wrong for me. A firefighter. A man with a dangerous occupation had no place in her structured, orderly world.
Evie put herself to work and began cleaning paintbrushes to fill time before her class began. She had five regular students, including her youngest sister, Mary-Jayne, and their good friend Fiona Walsh. Once her students began to arrive, she managed to clear her head and concentrate on teaching the women how to texture paint on the canvas.
“So, what’s with you?” Mary-Jayne asked when the class had concluded and the last of the students had left. She always lingered for coffee and a chat.
