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Hays’s smile grew. He liked her with his buddy. If only Belinda knew if she should be with his buddy.
“We’ll follow you until you’re with Jagger,” Hays said, easing around the table.
“You don’t need to do that.” The last thing she needed was an audience. She had no idea if she would apologize to Jagger, yell at him, kiss him, or simply beg him to know if she could trust him.
“We do,” Paul said. “That convict is still on the loose.”
“It’d be a stretch for that guy to get here.”
“I’ve seen crazier things.”
Hays nodded his agreement and waited for her.
“Okay. But as soon as Jag comes toward me, can you two disappear? I don’t need an audience.”
They both laughed at that.
“Sure,” Hays said.
Paul nodded.
She smiled at them and walked through the living area, onto the patio, and down the trail to the beach. The two men shadowed her but gave her space. She got nervous the closer she got. What was she doing? She couldn’t just claim she believed him and agree her parents could lie to her. She didn’t want to confuse or hurt Jagger or confuse herself any more than she already was. But she wanted to see him.
She slipped her flip-flops off and left them next to the pair that were already there from the evening she’d run from Jagger up this very trail. That memory made her stomach squirm. If she let down her guard with Jagger, she could make this messy situation even worse.
Plunging through the soft, brown sand, she could see him out in the water. His broad, muscular arms sliced through with precision, his movements perfect to her untrained eye. She liked to swim, but she looked nothing like that with her imitation breaststroke and head out of the water.
Occasionally, she caught a glimpse of his chest, back, or face.
She eased down to where the water softly lapped the shore. A couple ladies were walking along the beach farther down, but it was quiet besides that. The air was moist, warm, and salty, the temperature perfect, but she started sweating.
What was she doing?
She glanced back and saw Paul and Hays quietly watching from the beach trail. Good guys. She raised a hand, and they each tilted their chin up to her. Really great guys.
Turning back to the ocean, she watched Jagger swim with strong, determined strokes. Suddenly he stopped and surfaced, treading water and staring straight at her. The breath caught in her lungs, and she couldn’t move. Their gazes held. For a moment, he let down his walls and she could see how deeply she’d hurt him and how deeply he loved her. If she could trust him, he would forgive her. Her heart knew it.
Then he went underwater and swam straight toward her. She clutched her hands together, wondering again what she was doing. It was as if she were coming for him, but she couldn’t. She had no answers, only questions. If her parents had truly separated them for fourteen years, she and her family owed him loads of apologies and she owed him fourteen years of kisses.
Could Jagger forgive all of them if that were the case? He would forgive her. He’d proven that this week trying to talk things out with her, protecting her, holding her, and lighting her up with his kisses. But she didn’t know that her tough, prideful Jagger could forgive her parents. Heck, if what he’d told her was true, it would take her some time to forgive them, and she adored her parents.
He surfaced where the water was only waist deep. Belinda’s pulse took off watching him walk toward her. He sparkled in the evening sun and his large, defined muscles were on fine display. The man she loved was spectacular. She’d be the luckiest woman in the world. If only they didn’t have years of pain to overcome.
It was a shallow, gradual bay. It took him a while to walk toward her. She appreciated every step. His dark gaze was fixed on her, and he had a determined look on his face that boded very well for more kissing in her near future.
If only she knew what to say, what to think, what to believe, or how to proceed.
“You couldn’t walk out to meet me?” he teased as he stopped a foot away from her in the inches-deep water.
“Didn’t want to get my Band-Aid wet,” she joked back.
He sobered. “Is your heel ripped apart?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She waved a hand and then swallowed and admitted, “You look really, really fine.”
Jagger half-laughed and brushed a hand through his wet hair. “Thank you. I think.”
“You think? You told me I was beautiful, and I accepted the compliment very well, I must say.”
