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Jack couldn’t resist a grin, and she matched it. And with that, his anxiety faded away. He was average height at 5’9”, but she was pretty short, and he had something that would do the trick. In short order, he handed her a dark-red Texas Longhorns T-shirt. “You want a cup of coffee?”
She lifted the shirt over her head and the sheet fell, giving him another glimpse of her amazing breasts. Keep it together, Jack.
“That sounds great. I’ll be out in a second.” His shirt fell to mid-thigh as she headed toward the bathroom. He tore his eyes away and left the bedroom to remove a second mug from the cabinet.
Soon she joined him in the kitchen and by then he’d screwed up his courage. Jack poured her cup three-quarters full and pulled her into his arms, kissing her soundly. He tried not to think about the fact that she was naked under the shirt, but couldn’t resist rubbing his thumbs over her breasts. She kissed him back thoroughly, then pulled back with a smirk. “Good thing I had a drink of water in the bathroom, or you’d regret that kiss.”
“Not a chance.” He pushed the mug toward her. “I don’t know how you like it.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” Her cheeks turned a wonderful shade of pink. “Cream and sugar.”
He took out a bag of sugar, then turned to the fridge. “Milk ok?”
“Of course. We’ve already established you keep a ready supply of milk around.” After mixing the coffee to her liking, she took a long sip, then glanced at the clock and frowned. “I need to get going. Do you work today?”
Jack shook his head. “Day off. I’ve got some errands to run, and I’d like to get some sketching done.” She stood relaxed, resting with one hip cocked, but his nerves were back, trying to claw through the lining of his stomach. “I’d like to see you again. You want to have dinner?”
She giggled. “I guess we did kind of get things mixed up, didn’t we?”
“Do you regret that?”
She became serious and tipped her head. “No, not at all. Do you?”
His heart pounded as he stared at her, unable to look away even as he imagined a Danger sign flashing over her head. “I’m really glad we did.”
Breaking the trance, she set her mug on the counter. “I have a really full day. I’ve got several clients this morning and my first pool session is this afternoon. How about I make you dinner tomorrow night?”
“Mac and cheese?”
“I’ll try something even more exotic. Maybe add bacon this time. Really knock your socks off.”
“You already did that, Sara.”
* * *
Several hours later, Jack bumped down a dirt track north of Half Moon Bay Resort. He shifted his Ranger into four-wheel-drive just on principle. The heavy vegetation on both sides of the road slowly thinned until clear, blue sky appeared in front of him. He frowned, pulling off the track to park behind a beat-up old gray Ford Taurus. Great. Company? In the middle of nowhere?
Retrieving his sketchbook and pencil from the passenger seat, Jack exited, deep in thought as he walked toward the ocean. He passed the old sedan, its engine still ticking. Maybe the car belongs to a beach walker, and I’ll have the place to myself.
Sara had been happy and upbeat, giving him a kiss on the cheek when she’d left. Though certainly glad she wanted to see him again, he couldn’t help being more cautious about their night together. He’d had several buddies who had managed the ‘friends with benefits’ situation, but Jack wasn’t like that.
He was interested in Sara. Hell, he couldn’t wait to see her again. But this situation could go very badly for him if things didn’t work out. Her sister and brother-in-law owned the resort he worked at, after all. A job he wanted to turn into a full-time gig. He was trying to make a life in St. Croix. Whereas Sara had moved down quickly—almost on a whim.
As he climbed a gentle rise onto the beach, a man sat on a stool on the rocky ground ahead. An easel was set up before him, and he had a wooden palette of paints in one hand. Recognizing Dexter, Jack’s reluctance about meeting someone disappeared.
The divemaster didn’t make much noise as he crept over the sharp rocks of the spit, but Dexter turned around. “Well, there, if it isn’t Jack. How you doin’ today?”
“I’m good. You must have incredible hearing.”
He laughed. “Not accordin’ to my late wife.”
Jack wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he didn’t. “Mind if I join you?”
“Sure, as long as you don’t mind listenin’ to an old man talk now and again.”
Jack smiled, settling on a large flat rock nearby. “Not at all. Talk all you want.” He enjoyed being around older people, and their stories were usually worth hearing. He started sketching the ocean before him, trying to capture the different hues. “So, this land has been in your family a long time?”
“It has. Since the emancipation. Once they finally told my ancestors about Lincoln’s decree, that is. The local governor gave away some land plots to a few of the newly freed slaves. Most of it was hard rock or marsh. Useless land. But he included a few prime pieces—only to appease his superiors, of course. They drew a bunch of names, and my great-great-great-grandfather won these sixty acres at Half Moon Bay. Pure luck of the draw.”
