Page 24 of Second Chance Saloon

Until now, it seemed.

Jackie narrowed her eyes at the head bobbing up and down as they swam. Even though she couldn’t see their face under the professional goggles or their hair under the navy swim cap, she knew right away who it was.

“Mitch,” she muttered under her breath.

Without thinking twice, she ducked behind the wide rugged column next to one of the spa pools. Pressing her back to the stone, her bare skin chilled from the cold and the shock of the unexpected encounter, she gulped for air. Seeing him wouldn’t help her clear her head and, most definitely, wouldn’t get him out of her mind.

He looks good.

Jackie closed her eyes and tipped her head against the column. How long would it take to wipe the image of his chest from her memories?

The sound of rippling water snapped her out of her thoughts. Surely, he’d be leaving soon. She’d need to find a new morning ritual while he was here. Maybe she could go for a dip in the sea. Or jump in the deep end and continue swimming until the water swallowed her whole. Perhaps that was the only way to save herself from any further embarrassment.

She peeked out from the side of the column.

He’d swapped breaststroke for freestyle.

There was not a single thing she’d forgotten when it came to their time together, but watching Mitch swim had always been addictive. He moved so effortlessly, like his body was one with water. Before they met, she’d never watched a swimming race—probably because of her fear of water back then. After she’d seen his first one for the Texas Longhorns, she was hooked. Every stroke was like kryptonite. She remembered how quickly the roughly twenty-five seconds passed as he swam the fifty-meter backstroke, his best distance. Often, she thought that if she’d blinked twice, she’d have missed it.

Her airways constricted as she watched Mitch reach the end of the pool, waiting to see his flip turn, but it never came. He got to the end of the pool, touched the wall and, after a brief stop, pushed himself off the wall.

Jackie’s forehead creased in confusion. Mitch’s flip turns used to be one of his big strengths, especially in his trademark backstroke. The names of each part of the flip pushed to the front of her mind, like no time had passed since he had explained them to her all those years ago. Somersault, pushing off the wall in a streamline and finally butterfly kicks underwater before resurfacing and resuming backstroke …

He reached the other end of the pool.

Again, Jackie waited for the flip turn, but it never came. Remembering she was meant to stay out of sight, she returned to her hiding place.

“I know you’re there, Jackie. You can come out.” His voice, laced with amusement, echoed off the stone walls.

Jackie’s cheeks burned and she swallowed through a lump in her throat. She hadn’t realized he’d finished swimming.

Water splashed on the floor in a violent thrust.

Her heart rate picked up. She didn’t have to look to know he was getting out of the pool.

“Come on, no need to be shy.” His voice was closer than she expected, way too close for comfort. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

His hand found her, his wet fingers gently skimming the inside her forearm, and her heart dropped to her feet.

She jerked, stepping away. “You still swim.”

“Sure do. It’s the only time I can think with no distractions.” Mitch pulled the swim cap off his head, his wet hair curling. He combed his fingers through it and shook his head, drops of water flying everywhere. In his other hand, he clutched his sleek black goggles.

Her breath hitched as she took in his bare chest, arms … Her gaze dipped lower down to fitted black jammers, through which she could easily make out the hard lines of his thigh muscles. He’d always favored these over swimming trunks—something about cutting through water more efficiently than bare skin or baggy fabric; another thing filed away in her memories, apparently.

Mitch pulled down the material on his left leg, his eyes boring into her face. “What are you doing here?”

Jackie sniffed, her gaze trailing back up to his face. Goggle indents rimmed his eyes that somehow looked more blue than green in the golden glow from the LED lights scattered all over the wellness pool facility.

She blinked, struggling to string the words together. “Me? I work here.”

He grinned. “I know that. I mean, in the pool.” His gaze dipped to her swimsuit’s cleavage, black material peeking through her beige linen shirt dress. “You swim now, too?”

Jackie inhaled and pulled up the front of her dress. If she could, she’d pull it over her head to hide from him. As childish as it was. “I like to start my morning here.” She nodded to one of the spa pools. “It calms me down.”

A smile shadowed his lips. “You aren’t afraid of water anymore.”

“You know I’m not.”