Chapter 8
8
AMELIA
I stood on the beach, arms crossed over the puffy life jacket Jared had insisted I wear, watching him try to explain how to drive a jet ski.
He was gesturing animatedly, his words coming fast and confident, like he was giving a lecture on brain surgery instead of explaining how to operate what was essentially a glorified motorized surfboard.
I didn’t know how I was supposed to pay attention when he was the one giving the tutorial.
Did he know how attractive he was?
He peeled off that T-shirt that I personally felt was a size too small on purpose and put on a life vest that left plenty of skin exposed.
His chest was broad, his shoulders even broader.
I could see the faint lines of muscle that ran down his torso, disappearing into the waistband of his swim trunks.
His arms were strong, veins running along his forearms as he gestured toward the jet ski.
He had one of those all-over tans.
I assumed living on a Florida beach made it easy to maintain his sun-kissed skin.
He had to know he was a Greek god incarnate.
Not that I had met one of them, but I was a very avid reader of fantasy romance.
More than one author had taken some liberties with Greek mythology and brought them into the modern world.
I couldn’t decide if he was an Apollo or Ares.
“Just hold on,” he was saying.
His eyes met mine for a brief second.
He knew he was a lady-killer.
Panty-dropper. Fantasy-inducer.
No one looked like that and didn’t know.
And yet, there he was, explaining how to operate a jet ski with the same intensity and focus he probably used in surgery, completely oblivious—or maybe just indifferent—to the fact that I was standing there, trying not to stare.
“Pritchard,” he said suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Are you even listening?”
“Yes,” I lied quickly, my cheeks heating up as I realized how long I’d been staring at him.
“I mean, no. Sorry, what were you saying?”
He smirked, obviously knowing what had me distracted.
“Just don’t go too fast until you get the hang of it.”
“You know,” I said, cutting him off, “I’m a TBI specialist. And while jet skis aren’t exactly a thing people in England often use, I’m sure plenty of catastrophic brain injuries have come from these machines.”
Jared just grinned, that infuriatingly charming smile that made my stomach do a weird little flip.
“Relax, Doc. I’ll keep you safe. Now, hop on.”
“Fine,” I said, climbing onto the jet ski.
To my shock and horror, he settled in behind me, his thighs bracketing mine.
I whipped my head around.
“What are you doing!”
“We’re riding the jet ski.”
I opened my mouth and then snapped it shut.
“I thought I was riding this one and you were riding that one.”
“Not until I know you can handle the thing,” he said.
“Like you said, I would hate to have my top researcher bang her pretty little head.”
My heart was beating wildly.
Inappropriate thoughts flooded my brain.
I felt like I might have a stroke.
“Isn’t this… inappropriate?” I said.
He shrugged, his smile never wavering.
“Maybe. But it’s just us out here. I want to show you the island. So, why not? This isn’t a new thing. Welcome to America. Lighten up. Let go of the stiff upper lip.”
I scowled at him and turned back around.
I immediately felt hotter than I thought was possible.
It wasn’t just the sun—it was him.
His proximity, his confidence, the way his body wrapped around me as he reached around me to grip the handles.
“Hold on,” he said, his voice low and close to my ear.
And then we were off, tearing across the crystal-clear water at what felt like the speed of light.
I let out a surprised laugh, the wind whipping through my hair.
We sped away from the lab’s private beach and toward the main beaches of Key West.
The water was packed with boats and swimmers, the sand crowded with people soaking up the sun.
It was a far cry from the quiet, secluded beaches back home.
I had my hands next to his on the handlebars.
All of the contact was making me dizzy.
He slowed down, letting us bob up and down in the water.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I meant the ride,” he said.
“Scared?”
“No. It’s fine. It’s so… I’m just so amazed at how gorgeous this place is. I’ve never been anywhere tropical before.”
Jared glanced at me, his grin widening.
“This barely counts. I could take you somewhere like Fiji or Bora Bora on my jet. All you have to do is ask nicely.”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.
“Do you use that line on all the girls?”
“Yeah,” he said, his tone unapologetic.
“But you’re the first one it hasn’t worked on.”
I felt a flicker of smug satisfaction at that, but it was short-lived.
“Let me drive,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. “Remember take it slow at first. Let yourself get used to the feel of the machine.”
“Got it,” I said.
I gripped the handles, feeling a surge of confidence as I accelerated slowly.
His hands were on my hips.
“Good?” he asked close to my ear.
“I think so,” I said.
“Go ahead. Give it a little more gas.”
I pressed the throttle gently, feeling the jet ski surge forward.
The wind caught my hair again.
I laughed despite being a little scared.
It was exhilarating, the rush of speed and the salty spray of the ocean on my skin.
Jared’s hands tightened slightly on my hips, steadying me as we bounced over the wake from other jet skis.
“Not bad,” he said. “You’re a quick learner.”
“Told you I could handle it,” I replied, though my heart was still racing—and not just from the speed.
His nearness was intoxicating.
I hated how much it affected me.
I wanted to be the kind of woman who could shrug off someone like Jared Welch, but apparently, I wasn’t that woman.
He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against my ear.
“Careful, Doc. Confidence is attractive, but overconfidence can get you in trouble.”
I snorted, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down my spine.
“Says the man who probably invented overconfidence.”
He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that did nothing to calm my nerves.
“Fair point. But hey, if you’re going to crash this thing, at least wait until we’re closer to shore. I’d rather not have to swim back.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said dryly, but I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.
I steered away from the other boat traffic and opened up the throttle a little more.
For a moment, I felt like I was flying.
It was an adrenaline rush that I had never felt before.
But then, out of nowhere, a speedboat cut across our path, sending a huge wave crashing toward us.
“Back off the throttle!” Jared shouted.
I tried to steer away, but it was too late.
The jet ski hit the wave at full speed.
I was thrown off, hitting the water hard enough to knock the breath out of me.
For a moment, I was disoriented.
The world spun as I struggled to surface.
I could swim—I wasn’t helpless—but the wakes from the boats were rough, tossing me around like a ragdoll.
I felt like a bobber.
The life jacket was doing its job, but with every wave, I went under.
Panic started to creep in, but before it could fully take hold, strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me to the surface.
“Amelia!” Jared’s voice was sharp with concern, his hands gripping my shoulders as he treaded water beside me.
“Are you okay?”
I coughed, sputtering water as I tried to catch my breath.
“I’m fine,” I managed.
We were so close, practically nose to nose.
His concerned gaze made my stomach flip all over again.
He smoothed my wet hair away from my face, his touch surprisingly gentle, and for a moment, I felt safe.
Too safe.
“Is anything hurt?” he asked.
“Did your head hit the water?”
“My entire body hit the water,” I retorted.
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I hit the water on my back.”
“Come on, let’s get back to the jet ski.”
I managed to catch my breath enough to swim back to it.
He helped me up and then climbed up in front of me this time.
“Hold on to me,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind.
I was happy to give him control.
I wrapped my arms around his waist.
Jared started the jet ski again.
We headed back to the shoreline, this time at a slower pace.
He kept us clear of the other boats and the choppy waves.
I could feel the tension in his body, though he didn’t say anything.
I was shaken, not just from the fall but from the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d held me.
It was too much.
When we reached his private dock below his house, I climbed off the jet ski, my legs still wobbly.
Jared followed, his expression unreadable.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just a little shaken up.”
I unhooked the life jacket but didn’t take it all the way off.
I took a deep breath, testing my ribs to make sure none of them were cracked.
I had hit the water hard, but the life jacket seemed to take the brunt of it.
“Come inside for a minute. Have a drink to calm your nerves.”
I shook my head, taking a step back.
“No, I should get back to my condo. I have some studying to do.”
He looked disappointed, like he was about to say more, but I cut him off.
“Thanks for taking me out,” I said, forcing a smile.
“It was… an experience.”
Before he could respond, I turned and hurried away.
My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just crossed some invisible line.
When I got back to my place, I headed straight for the shower, letting the warm water wash away the salt and sand.
The events of the afternoon played on a loop in my mind.
Jared was annoying, egotistical, and infuriatingly charming.
But there was something about him—something that made me feel alive in a way I had never felt before.
I shouldn’t like the way he grated on my nerves.
I shouldn’t like the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel.
But I did. And that was the problem.
As I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel, I couldn’t help but wonder what it all meant.
He was my boss. A player.
He was a man that enjoyed the thrill of the chase.
I wasn’t interested in getting into some whirlwind affair that left me heartbroken in the end.