Chapter 2
Emma
The cool ocean waterturned boiling hot.
I wanted to die.
Did sharks migrate through Georgia? Because if so, I needed one to eat me whole. Immediately.
Are you Jackie’s brother? Was water wet? Was I an absolute idiot for going skinny dipping at my friend’s up-until-now deserted beachfront property?
Yes, yes, and yes.
Of course, the man standing in front of me was Jackie’s brother. If I hadn’t drooled over the man’s pictures on Jackie’s wall, I could immediately spot the similarities in their crystal blue eyes and the threateningly low timbre of their voice when annoyed.
And he was annoyed.
I stared up at him, his arms crossed over his chest and his shoulders straining against his button-down white shirt. A shirt that seemed tailored to his body.
Jackie rarely mentioned her brother, a football hotshot who spent more time at work than at home. A mention of his weekly phone calls. A drunken night out when she told the story of him bailing her out of trouble. And a throwaway laugh when I asked if it was really okay to stay at her family’s vacation home for free.
“Of course,” she said with a wave of her hand. “My brother never uses it.”
Only, apparently, he did.
“Yes, I’m her brother.” His eyes raked down my face and rested on the blow up unicorn.
I squirmed as I searched my memory for his name.
Jessi? No.
Justin? Nope.
James? Bingo.
“And you’re trespassing.” He stretched out his hand, laying claim to the dock.
Clearly, it was his dock. And his home. And probably his island. James was the type of guy who owned every space he traveled through, and I was naked nobody clinging to an inflatable unicorn.
Despite the power imbalance, I bristled at his tone, a touch of arrogance implying I couldn’t possibly be his equal or even his better, and, with a single look, he had judged me unworthy. “Do I look like the type of person who trespasses?”
He arched an eyebrow, eyes sinking down to the floaty and back up again. “I couldn’t begin to guess what type of person you are.”
My embarrassment melted away, replaced with a healthy mixture of irritation and offense. “A friend of your sister’s.”
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And this isn’t her week to use the cabin. It’s mine.”
I paused, my mind wandering to what the conversation would have looked like had he not caught me naked under the twilight, not talked to me in that pretentious asshole tone.
Maybe we would have shared a laugh and a drink. Maybe we would have called Jackie, shared a knowing look. This was exactly the type of thing Jackie would do.
Instead, I burrowed in for a fight.
“And yet, here I am.”
“Trespassing.”
“Invited by an owner.”
“An invitation she had no business extending.” He squared up, eyes slanted down in a sneer.
“But one she gave.”
“Well, I hope you enjoyed your stay, but it’s time for you to leave. I’ll give you some space to find your clothes and pack your things.” He swooped down, scooping up the six-pack, and strode back to the cabin before I could come up with a snappy reply.
My jaw dropped, vaguely impressed with the efficient way he’d told me to get lost.
I blamed the sun and my idiotic decision to “live a little” with a sunset skinny dip, the decision making it impossible to gain the upper hand with a guy like James, fully clothed and used to getting his way.
I waited for one breath, then two, slowing my racing heart. Once I was sure he wasn’t coming back, I kicked to the shore, holding the unicorn blowup in front of me like a towel.
What was I thinking?
Besides the sun, I blamed the isolation. Despite earning my masters for a job surrounded by books, I needed conversation. And until five minutes ago, the only person I’d seen in the last three days was the checkout clerk at the nearest grocery store, a grumpy elderly man who preferred the company of the TV on the other side of the counter.
So, feeling a little risky, and after maybe after drinking one-too-many mimosas on the sand, I decided, screw it, time to skinny dip. And if a speed boat raced by, oh well. I hadn’t expected someone to show up on my dock.
Or his dock, rather. Our dock, but even to my sun-addled, booze-fried brain, that didn’t sound right. There would be no “our.”
I raced up the beach, ditching the unicorn floaty as soon as I pulled open the door to the house. The windows were open and a soft shore breeze pushed away the curtain so I could see the back of James’s head, illuminated by the porch light.
I grabbed a dish towel off the counter, holding it ineffectively in front of me. The scrap of fabric barely covered my chest, but unless I wanted to strip the tablecloth off the table, it was easier to scurry upstairs, get on some clothes, and reassess my life choices.
My eyes stayed glued to the back of James’ head. Even without him turning around, I couldn’t shake the fear that he would. So, rather than take my time, I broke into a sprint, rounding the stairs, and jetting up them to the main bedroom. I slammed the door behind me, back pressed against it, inhaling a cool breath of air.
Clothes. Clothes would help.
My fingers shook as I pilfered through what remained of my beach clothes. I hadn’t bothered with laundry, spending most of my days in a bathing suit and a coverup. And despite the man downstairs just having seen me entirely naked, strolling onto the porch in a bathing suit when he looked like he just ate lunch at a yacht club wouldn’t work. We needed equal footing.
I needed equal footing.
And from my snapshot assessment of James Easton, equal footing meant looking like someone worth talking to.
Besides, the longer I forced him to cool his heels outside, the more leverage I’d have. I walked into the bathroom, turning on the water and stepping into a hot shower.
The warm water calmed my racing heart as I scrubbed sea water out of my hair. I emerged from the shower pink and determined. A quick rifle through the bathroom drawers and I found a styling brush to tame my curls into a manageable shape.
I had packed for isolation, but I had enough makeup in my toiletry bag to create a look that was sun-kissed and glowing. A subtle beauty without screaming, “I’m going to make you wish you hadn’t been such a fucking asshole to me.” Even if that was my hope.
I stepped into a simple linen white dress that hugged my curves and showed enough cleavage to be distracting. A once over in the mirror and a deep breath confirmed that I was ready for battle.
Sure, my first impression sucked, but I could make up for that. Looks-wise, anyway.
But what did I plan to say?
James had a point. This wasn’t my cabin. Sure, Jackie had invited me, but apparently, it wasn’t hers to offer. But where would I go? I scooped up my phone from the bedside table, turning it on and clicking on my banking app. I barely had enough for groceries.
Even if I could get a flight, where would I go?
Not Chicago. I didn’t live there anymore. My new job and the apartment lease that went with it didn’t start until next week.
I blew out a breath. I wasn’t leaving.
Either I’d convince James to share the cabin, or drive him out instead.