“I should be apologizing to you.” Jasper’s words took me by surprise, and I sank into the chair opposite.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed and scratched at his chin. “Look at me. I’m a mess, and it’s all my fault. I can’t even have a frickin’ shower at the moment and, much as I love you, sis, I draw the line at asking you to give me a bed bath.” His voice was earnest, and I couldn’t help smiling. “I’m fed up with being confined, of everything bloody hurting, and being frigging helpless. And I’m sorry I took it out on you. You should have just called me an ungrateful bastard.”
“I wouldn’t have done that. We’re family, Jas. We stick together.”
I had Zack to thank for reminding me of that. After talking to him, everything felt different. I felt different.
Should I have gone back with him? He’d made me senseless with one blistering, searing kiss. Would there be anything left of me after a night with him?
…
I was up early and hunched over the coffee pot as it brewed my first mug of the day. Sleep had been elusive. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Zack, the hunger in his eyes and the pain on his face. In the cool light of morning, I sifted through my confused emotions. Did I want him, or just feel sorry for him?
Jasper was still asleep when I slipped out with the girls, to take them for a run on the sand. I chose a route that would take me straight past the beachfront cottage where Zack was staying, but that was just coincidence. Likewise, I didn’t actually stare at the wooden deck where we’d sat, but I couldn’t help glancing in that direction. There was no sign of him. Maybe he was still in bed? It was early and he’d drunk plenty of vodka.
I could have been waking up with him. I allowed myself a moment to imagine how that would feel, to have his hard, muscled body wrapped around my own, his hands in my hair and sliding up my thighs. I swallowed, my mouth dry. Was I brave enough to tangle with him? Was I strong enough to walk away afterward?
Lost in thought, I looked up at the last minute and saw the object of my fevered imagination jogging toward me. It was hard not to stare. He only wore a pair of brightly patterned board shorts. Hard, muscled abs rippled as he moved, and dogtags bounced off a tanned chest with just a light dusting of dark hair. His tattoos were the perfect excuse to feast my eyes. Distinctive. A pair of seagulls hovered over his left nipple, and his entire left arm was inked, dark lines crisscrossing into pictures and words. I fought to lift my gaze to his face. His cropped hair was damp, color splashed across his cheeks, and today there was a hint of sparkle in his eyes along with a lip tilt that almost qualified as a smile.
“Swimming?” I squeaked.
He stopped in front of me. “Running.” He wasn’t even out of breath. Yeah, they have to keep fit in the army.
I managed a smile and prayed I wasn’t drooling. “I’m walking the dogs.” Or not. I bent and released them from their leads and bought myself a few moments as they scampered off to the water’s edge. When I thought I could look at him without blushing, I lifted my head.
He stood there, hands on slim hips, and stared at me. Raw power and energy all wrapped into a body that could have been carved as a study in male perfection. “You had breakfast yet?”
Had I? My memory had gone blank. “Uh, no.”
“Someone’s stocked the fridge for me. Wanna come?”
My panties dampened at the thought, and my face burned even more. Breakfast. He was talking about breakfast. “Yes, please.”
Chapter Six
I trailed behind Zack and admired the view. Two more tattoos caught my eye: two small, ornate crosses decorated his lower back. A memorial perhaps? They flexed and rippled as he moved. He padded across the sand and paused to glance over his shoulder at me. “You want to leave the dogs loose?”
Focus, Holly. “Yes. I’ll, uh, do that.” We’d reached the wooden steps up to his deck, and I had a moment of clarity. I’d never met anyone like Zack before, so strong and confident, so utterly male. There was every chance he’d eat me up and spit out the remains before slipping away as though we’d never met. Did he have a girl in every port? Or was that a navy expression?
He let himself in to a bright, sun-washed kitchen and left the door open. I followed. Stepping to the sink, he grabbed a mug, ran the tap, and gulped down a drink of water before sighing and turning back to me. “It probably wasn’t the best idea to come on to you last night.” He squared his shoulders and gazed at me, his face shuttered. “I was drunk and lonely and horny, and for most people that’s never a good combination.”
“What are you saying? That if you’d been sober…” You wouldn’t have kissed me?
He shrugged. “I’m sorry.”
And to think how close I’d come to sleeping with him. But the new Holly wouldn’t stress about it. I wouldn’t let her. “No harm done. I’ll be off.”
“I shouldn’t have treated you like a booty call.” Oh God, Zack hadn’t finished his apology. I didn’t want to hear any more, and I took a step back, ready to spin around and head for freedom. I let my gaze drop to a neat row of shells on the windowsill. Pretty. I almost missed his next words. “I’m not sorry I kissed you, though.”
What? I peeked up at him through the hair that had fallen over my face. He stared back, eyes dark and fathomless, a tiny muscle jumping in his cheek. “Don’t go, Holly, please.”
I ran my tongue over dry lips. No words emerged and I stood there, undecided. I didn’t want to leave, but his words still stung.
“Will you stay for breakfast?” Common sense told me to walk away, but my instincts had a stronger hold. I nodded and watched his face soften, the tension relaxing. “Great. Anything you don’t eat?”
“Um, prawns. And celery.” A slow smile crept across his face, lighting it up, and I wanted to see it grow. “And rhubarb. I hate rhubarb.”
The smile broke into a grin that took my breath away. “Okay, so no prawns, celery, or rhubarb for breakfast. I can dig that.” He played with the empty mug in his hand and tapped it gently on his thigh while his gaze drifted over me. “I need to grab a quick shower, but will you stay?”
I nodded, more comfortable now. Images of his naked body under a cascade of water flashed before me, and I felt my cheeks burn again. I’d never blushed so much. “Should I, uh, start the food?”
“No.” He quirked his eyebrows as though amused. “I invited you. Sit down, grab a coffee. I’ll be five minutes.”
He disappeared, bare feet slapping wooden floorboards, and I looked around the kitchen. Despite knowing the owner of this rental cottage, I’d never been inside. A long picture window opened onto the deck, with the beach beyond. I liked the clean openness of it, the space and light. It appealed to my ordered nature and didn’t leave me itching to tidy up, as Jasper’s cluttered house did. I examined the shells on the windowsill, picking them up in turn. They were a mismatch of all different types. Maybe each occupant left a shell behind.
The noise of rushing water stopped abruptly. He’d only been a couple of minutes and so he’d probably be back in no time at all. I wanted to look casual, relaxed, and not as though I was stressed out in the slightest. I leaned against the counter, hands at my sides, turned to stare out of the window again, and then took a seat at the scrubbed wooden table. Warm now, I wriggled out of my fleece jacket and was in the process of draping it over the chair back when he padded barefoot into the kitchen fully dressed in the same fatigues as yesterday and a faded Nirvana T-shirt. His face looked flushed. Was that a flash of relief in his eyes when he saw me? “I’m glad you stayed, Holly. Thanks.”