15. Ember
FIFTEEN
EMBER
Half an hour later, Jack had parked his car at one of the seaside lots just outside of town and we’d made our way between tall sand dunes to the beach beyond.
The sand was dense and dark, the ocean a cold, gray expanse that melded with the hazy horizon, and the sky was blanketed with a layer of high, white clouds.
It was surprisingly warm, especially considering the storm last weekend.
I stood at the top of the sloping sand, listening to the crash of waves and the cries of gulls and other sea birds.
The sight of the ocean was wild and untamed, and it made my chest expand in a way I’d never quite felt before.
I was used to keeping my head down. Working on spreadsheets with numbers I could trust. Living in a city, carving out a little space for myself full of predictable routines and as much safety as I could manage.
This was something entirely different. Wind whispered around me, chilling my exposed skin, making me feel brighter, more alive.
“I always love the look of the ocean on a cloudy day,” Jack murmured beside me, his eyes on the invisible horizon. “Something about the expansiveness of it. How untamable it seems. Makes me feel like anything is possible.”
I watched a gull land on the beach and peck at the sand, then look out over the white surf and rippling waves. “I get it,” I said. “It makes you feel small and insignificant, but not in a bad way.”
That’s when I looked over at him and noticed he’d taken off his shirt.
Strong shoulders capped a muscular chest, which tapered down to a slim waist. He wore gray athletic shorts and running shoes.
Chest hair dotted his pecs and arrowed down to his waistband.
He had abs. Like, actual abs that were visible when he was just standing there.
When he’d been in bed at the Blanchard mansion, he’d had the blanket up mostly covering his stomach.
I’d never seen a body like his so close before. In the harsh light of the sun, it looked so much more real than it had in our little rain-soaked cocoon at the Blanchard mansion.
He glanced at me, his eyes soft, and I wondered what he saw. There was a smile ghosting over the corners of his lips, and I wondered if he could see what all that bare skin was doing to me. Then he tipped his head toward the hard sand closer to the water and said, “Shall we?”
“If you insist,” I grumbled, which made him laugh.
If I’d been honest with myself, I would’ve admitted that making him laugh had been the goal.
His smiles always warmed me through, made me feel like I was somehow more special than I really was.
If I could make a man like him enjoy his time with me, didn’t that mean I was precious and smart and funny?
Ridiculous and pathetic. But I couldn’t help it.
Jack jogged along the soft sand and led me to the dense, hard-packed wet stuff closer to the surf. By the time we got to the harder surface, I was already huffing and puffing. This did not bode well.
He took off at an easy lope, and I struggled along beside him. “We’ll run to the spit,” he said, pointing a chiseled arm toward a long, protruding piece of land covered in boulders. The ocean beyond it was dark gray, and birds circled above.
I nodded, gasping for breath.
“Norma,” Jack said with a bright smile, waving at an older woman powerwalking with ankle and wrist weights strapped to her limbs. She wore a matching pink sweatsuit.
“Jack! And your beautiful wife! What a day!”
“Couldn’t ask for any better,” he replied, winking at the old lady.
I garbled unintelligibly, struggling to breathe while my leg muscles burned. “This is torture,” I said when Norma had moved out of earshot.
“I thought you were into BDSM stuff,” Jack joked.
My breath was gone again, so all I could do was glare at him. We passed two elderly couples and one young woman jogging beside a tiny dog. She flashed a big smile at Jack, which he returned with a short wave.
“Another one of your conquests?” I asked, eyeing the woman and wondering how one could be running on the beach without a hair out of place. Mine was currently plastered to my neck and cheeks.
“I like when you get jealous, Ember,” Jack replied, jogging beside me. “It’s hot. Makes me feel like you care about me.”
“That’s demented.”
He laughed again, glancing over at me with twinkling blue eyes. His chest glistened with sweat, but his breathing was easy and he didn’t seem to be struggling at all. That spit of land wasn’t getting any closer, and I was overheating.
“Hang on,” I said, struggling with the sleeves of my sweater. Sweat had plastered it to my skin, and I got stuck with it halfway off, my arms pinned above my head, my vision obscured by black cotton. “Help.”
Jack moved closer, the heat of his bare chest washing over me. He tugged me free of my sweater prison, his gaze dropping down to the sports bra I’d worn beneath. I should’ve put a shirt on, but I hadn’t thought I’d take my sweater off at all.
Taking my time—I still needed to catch my breath—I grabbed the sweater and looped it around my waist. “What are you staring at?” I asked, throwing him a sideways glance.
His eyes were intent as they coasted down my body, sending spirals of heat through my abdomen.
I tightened my sweater over the soft part of my belly, hiding the curve I was most insecure about.
It was hard to feel insecure with a man looking at me like that, though.
“Just having a good look at my soon-to-be wife,” Jack murmured, gaze flicking up to meet mine. There was no laughter in his gaze.
My heart took off like a trapped bird. My throat burned from the exercise, and the next few breaths felt like fire as I gulped them down.
Then Jack’s gaze moved beyond me, and he smiled that wide, charmer’s smile. “Marigold! Good to see you out on this fine September morning.”
“Early bird, and all that!” the white-haired woman replied, piercing eyes flicking over to me. She nodded at me and kept walking.
I jerked back to myself and gave myself a mental slap.
He hadn’t been checking me out at all; he’d been pretending.
Hot with embarrassment—and what felt dangerously close to desire—I turned away from Jack and started running again.
Well, it was more of a stumbling shuffle, but it was the closest I could manage to a run.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we reached the first boulders that marked the start of the spit. The point of land jutted out into the raging sea, and Jack jogged to a stop, then put his hands on his hips and turned to me with a smile. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I put my hands on my knees and wheezed. Sweat dribbled down my temples and between my breasts. My back was drenched, and I was pretty sure my leggings had a big wet patch that looked just like I’d peed myself. Heck, maybe I had peed myself. It was hard to tell, because everything hurt.
“That was awful,” I finally replied between puffs.
Jack hummed. “You know, I usually go for a dip once I’ve finished my run.”
I frowned at the sand, watching a tiny crab scuttle away from our feet. “A dip? In the wa—ahh!” The world tilted as Jack hauled me up by the waist and threw me over his shoulder. “Put me down!”
“Come on, Ember. Live a little.”
“If you throw me into the freaking Atlantic Ocean right now, I swear to everything holy—”
“Relax,” he cajoled, patting the backs of my thighs with his big hand. Heat arrowed up to my core, which I resented. “I’m going in with you.”
“Put me down!”
He stopped. “All right,” he said, just as a wave came in and crashed against his thighs. I slid down his front as the water splashed all over my butt, my legs clamping around his waist as I tried to avoid the freezing cold surge. “Not right here! Back on the beach!”
He laughed as I clung to him, his hands sweeping down to hold me up—
“Your hands are on my butt,” I observed, still clinging to him with viselike legs.
A wild grin had taken hold of his mouth. “Yeah,” he replied. And then he squeezed it. At my glare, he laughed, the sound sending darts of pleasure through my belly. Darts of pleasure I tried my very best to ignore.
“This was not part of the deal,” I told him, hands clinging to his shoulders, his face inches from mine.
“You looked warm,” he said. “I’m trying to help.”
“You’re the most annoying man on the planet.”
“How annoying?”
“Really annoying. So annoying I want to—” Another shriek escaped me as Jack leaned backward into the next wave. My scream was silenced by the salty, freezing water that closed over my head. I let go of Jack, scrabbling on the coarse sandy bottom, and stood up—
To the sound of his laughter. I wiped water from my face and glared at him, but that just made his laughter melt into a warm, irresistible smile.
He reached over and tugged on my hand, making me stumble against his chest. Even in the freezing cold water, with a chill wind making goosebumps rise all over my body, he was warm.
His arm banded around my back, searing against the strip of skin between my leggings and bra.
His other hand cupped my jaw, thumb tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to meet his gaze.
“Can I be honest with you, Ember?”
There was something about his voice that made my chest feel hot and tight. I gulped. Nodded.
His gaze flicked between my eyes, his thumb stroking the side of my jaw. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss.”
My heart banged so hard I couldn’t get a breath in. He wasn’t telling the truth, obviously. Jack had slept with every available woman we’d crossed paths with—and probably some of the unavailable ones too. He didn’t get emotionally attached to people like me. Not after one clumsy kiss.
I didn’t know why he was telling me this. Didn’t know what he meant. Everything about this morning had been confusing. I kept scrabbling for logical explanations, kept reminding myself that we were just pretending, but I couldn’t quite make myself believe it.