I’m in a shit mood. I blame Gwen.

“More coffee, Jackson?” The waitress, Linda Sue, at the local diner holds up her coffeepot. I push my cup forward and watch the too-pale brown liquid spill into the beige-tinged cup. The diner is old-school breakfast fare that can be found in any small town across the United States.

“Thanks, honey,” I say, flashing her a smile before rubbing the grit from my eyes. I’d slept like shit. I take a sip of the weak coffee and try to recall the taste and bite of the espresso I drank in that little cafe in Rome off of Piazza Navona.

A memory belonging to another life. Memories I try not to think about anymore.

Again, I blame Gwen.

After the scene in the hallway with Gwen and Beau I could no longer ignore the truth. It became crystal clear she’s getting to me. Big time. And that’s not an option, so I’d shut her down and stuck to it. By the time my shift ended, my jaw ached with the effort to keep from engaging her, to keep from touching her. My only consolation was after my public claiming the barflies kept their hands to themselves.

But I still shouldn’t want that. Still shouldn’t care.

I want to believe if I had her once that would be enough, but watching her, I’d known I was lying to myself. Gwen is not a one-fuck kind of girl.

Gwen would be impossible to leave in the middle of the night.

So, after work, I’d taken off to find the right kind of girl. I’d gone to a bar on the outskirts of town. Had a drink. And despite my intentions, rejected any woman that came up to me before taking off. Alone.

The rest of the night went downhill from there.

“Hey,” a voice that’s becoming all too familiar rings in my ears.

I jerk back and look into Gwen’s face. Her eyes are clear, the blue so pure they could rival the oceans of the Mediterranean. Her hair is pulled back into another high ponytail and she’s dressed in a yellow T-shirt and shorts.

I literally can’t think of anything but dragging her to the floor. I scowl. “Still stalking, I see.”

She flashes me a smile. Not one to dazzle, but it still does. “This is a coincidence.”

I raise my brow. “Coincidence?”

She shrugs. “It is the only place to eat breakfast in town.”

This is true.

She looks at the empty counter seat next to me. “Want me to go sit somewhere else?”

“Yes.” The word is sharp.

Our eyes meet. Lock together and something hotter than sex passes between us. She scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip and nods. “Okay.”

She turns to leave and everything inside me is screaming to let her go but I’m grabbing her wrist before she can walk away.

She looks back at me.

Silence fills the air, but unlike a lot of women, she doesn’t make any effort to fill in the gap.

I have a choice. I can tell her to have a nice day and let her go. Or I can ask her to stay.

I grip her wrist tighter. “Stay.” Then I release her.

I don’t understand her hold over me, a hold that makes me act without consequences and goes against all my better judgment.

She nods and slips onto the seat next to me. With the heat of her body, something inside me that’s been cold for a long time, thaws.

Further indication I need to stay away from her.

Since staying away doesn’t appear to be an option, I look at her and state the only thing I am sure about. “I’m not going to come work for you.”

“Okay.” She picks up the menu.

“That's it?”

“Yep.” She makes a great show of studying the oversized laminated card in front of her. “What’s good here?”

Our shoulders touch, sending a spike of lust through my veins. “Can’t screw up an omelet too bad.”

“True.”

Linda Sue comes over and gives me a smug smile before turning to Gwen. “And here’s the pretty lady that’s been the talk of the town.”

Gwen’s expression widens in surprise. “Really?”

Linda Sue winks at her. “Just be careful, you’ve made a lot of women unhappy.”

Gwen shoots me a glance and I shake my head. “Ignore her.”

Linda Sue puts her hand on her hip, pot cocked and ready. “Coffee?”

“Yes please.” Gwen pushes forward a cup.

“You ready to order?” Linda Sue asks.

“I’ll take a spinach and feta omelet.” Gwen puts down the menu and Linda Sue snatches it away.

She tucks it under her arm and says, “Your brother and sister get a look at her yet.”

I can practically see Gwen’s ears perk up at the comment.

“Mind your own business,” I say, in my best stern voice.

She laughs and walks away.

Gwen turns to look at me, her long legs brushing mine. “Brother and sister?”

Her legs should be considered illegal and I want them wrapped around my waist. “Yeah, like most people I have family.”

They’d love Gwen and that’s not a good thing.

She nibbles her lower lip again. “Beau told me he’s your uncle.”

“He is.”

She tilts her head toward Linda Sue. “She doesn’t think your mom needs a look at me?”

My stomach tightens at the thought of my mother. “She died a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry.” A shadow passes over her beautiful features.

“Me too.” My mom never really got the chance to be happy, and it seems the rest of us are destined to follow in her footsteps.

Gwen bites her lower lip. “Beau told me your dad left a long time ago.”

I swing around, anger prickling at the base of my spine. Beau knows I don’t like to talk about that. “And what else did he say?”

She meets my eyes, direct and steady, like the woman herself. “He told me I shouldn’t confuse sex with thinking I was special.”

This doesn’t surprise me. Beau has taken quite a liking to Gwen, which is bad enough, but he knows I’m struggling to keep my distance from her, which is worse. Better not to give her any illusions. “He’s right.”

“He said I’m just a warm body.” She searches my expression, looking for signs of humanity I’m sure.

Looking for signs that she’s more than that. I open my mouth to give her my normal speech but stop before it reaches my lips. I put my hand on her thigh and she shivers under my touch. I tell her the truth. “If you were just a warm body, I would have fucked you already.”

I stroke my fingers over the soft skin between her legs and she gasps. “You think it’s that easy?”

“Yeah, I do.” I move my palm higher. “Did you come last night?”

She shakes her head.

“Why?”

“The conversation upset me.” Her legs part, just a fraction of an inch. “Even though I didn’t want it to. Even though it shouldn’t matter.”

That she’s confessing this is an additional argument I should leave her the hell alone. I meet her eyes. “Gwen.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t feel about you the way I feel about other women.”

The statement hangs in the air and I hope she doesn’t question it because I have no idea what I even mean.

“Should I be sorry?”

“It’s not going to change anything.”

I wait for her to start the questions, the insistence that she can convince me, but it doesn’t come. Instead she covers my hand with hers. “Will you spend the day with me?”

This sends a rush of panic racing through me. I can’t remember the last time I spent time with a woman that didn’t include sex followed by immediate abandonment. I want to say no, because I want to say yes too badly for comfort. I vacillate, back and forth, over and over, and she watches me struggle with those cool blue eyes of hers. It’s one day for myself. Just one day. Can I take one day?

I nod. “Yes.”

Her attention dips to my lips. “Can I make you dinner?”

The idea brings me the kind of pleasure I’d forgotten existed. “How are you going to do that in that motel room of yours.”

“Your house?” Her voice tilts up at the end of the question.

I think of what’s waiting for me back home, the responsibilities that will only entangle her more deeply inside me. I shake my head. “No.”

She doesn’t question this, instead she nods. “The bar?”

I should reject the idea, but why pretend. I want to do this with her. For people like us, food is sex, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been around anyone that understands that. “Only if we do it together.”

Her whole face lights up with what can only be described as joy. “You’d do that with me?”

“Yes.”

Her fingers squeeze on mine. “I’d love that.”

“Good.”

She glances out the window that looks out on Main Street. “What should we do first?”

Why am I agreeing to this? I have no fucking clue. “You bring a swimsuit with you?”

She nods.

“Good. I know just the place.”

I must be out of my goddamn mind.

We’d hiked through the state park in silence. Not exactly a comfortable silence, but Jackson didn’t seem inclined to talk and I didn’t push him.

When I woke up this morning, I’d intended to take the day off from him, to collect myself, to prioritize. I’d spent the early hours logged onto my system, going over inventories, talking to my managers and head chef, making changes to the specials and recommendations. My restaurant is a well-oiled machine and I have good people I trust working for me. It has become settled. They barely need me anymore. It’s why I wanted a new challenge to begin with.

When I’d finally ventured out to eat, Jackson was the last person I’d expected to see sitting at the counter. I’d thought about turning around and heading back to my room, but as I stared at the broad expanse of his shoulders in his T-shirt, I’d abandoned the idea. Fate had other plans and I was inclined to listen.

I’d never anticipated he’d agree to spend the day with me.

But the truth is, I like being with him. His whiskey eyes reach inside me and touch something I’ve forgotten even existed. Even with all the dangerous, simmering chemistry, his surly disposition, and his bad track record with women, I like him. He makes me feel alive somehow, in a way I didn’t realize was missing from my life until I laid eyes on him.

I think he feels it too, even though I’m sure he’s not happy about it.

I’m out of breath when we get to the clearing, pushing through the wooded path to a small beach area that’s deserted, and looks out over a lake.

I pause, taking in my surroundings. It’s beautiful. And peaceful. I live by the Lakeshore, and I love Lake Michigan, but the beach is nothing like this. The beaches I know are crowded, bustling and alive with activity as people run and bike down the paths that line sandy shores and jagged rocks. These waves are lapping and gentle, unlike the loud crash of waves made turbulent by the Chicago winds.

It’s hot today, and so humid my hair sticks to my neck, even in my ponytail. I look up at the clear blue sky and let the sun shine down on my face. Closing my eyes to soak in the warmth on my skin.

I’m lucky, unlike a lot of redheads my skin is golden, and loves the sun. I never burn, courtesy of my Italian mother. My sisters got the reverse coloring, blonde hair and pale skin and they’ve never forgiven me for it.

I open my eyes to find Jackson watching me in that way he has. Hot and intense.

I lick the sweat from my lips. “It’s gorgeous.”

His gaze travels down my body where my top is molded to my breasts, damp with the heat. “It is.”

My breath catches in my chest a bit. “There’s nobody here.”

“It’s Monday. People work, school is still in session, and this isn’t the designated swimming area where the families go.” He gestures to the beach. “Too small.”

So we’re alone. I don’t say the words but they hang in the air. I smile. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s perfect.”

He points to a bluff. “We can jump later.”

It’s high and my heart starts to pound. “Is it safe?”

“Yes.” He shades his eyes even though he’s wearing sunglasses. “When I was a kid, my brother, sister and I would come here all the time and throw ourselves off the edge.”

More information, another peek into the life he hides.

“What are their names?” I’ll ask questions until he stops answering.

“Wyatt and Cat.”

“Are they younger or older?” Easy, slow questions not to scare him off.

He smiles. “I’m the middle child. Wyatt’s the oldest and Cat’s the baby.”

“Do they still live here?”

His brow creases before smoothing back over. “They do. I live with them.”

This surprises me; I’d have thought him a loner. I can’t imagine sharing space with that many people. I’m about to ask something else, but he turns his back to me, shrugs off a backpack and begins to unpack.

Question time is over. It wasn’t a lot of information, but it was something and I don’t press any further. I watch him setting up, laying out a blanket and handing me a towel, a bottle of water and sunscreen.

I laugh.

He glances up at me.

“You’re prepared.” It touches me because I doubt he’s ever made the slightest effort for a woman.

A chagrin smile flirts over his lips and he shrugs. “I don’t want all that pretty skin of yours to burn.”

“I never burn.” Of course I still wear sunscreen.

His eyes travel over my body again. “Maybe not in Chicago, but this is Louisiana, darlin’.”

“True.” I open the water and let the coolness pour down my throat, drinking the bottle down in about thirty seconds. “I hope you have more.”

“I do.” Then he whisks his shirt over his head and my throat goes dry all over again.

God, he is just so beautiful. A work of art. My gaze travels over his broad chest, taking in his defined muscles. He’s got a tattoo on his shoulder something intricate and scrolling in black. His abs look cut from granite, sculpted and lean, tapering to the cut of his hip.

My knees practically quiver. His board shorts are low on his hips, highlighting the cut of bone beneath skin. I want to touch him. I want to—

“You’re staring.” His amused voice rips me from my mental lusting.

I jerk back and shrug. “You’re ridiculous.”

He laughs. “My momma used to say the angels were in a good mood the day they made me.”

“Your momma was right.” He looks smug, so I decide it’s only fair to shed my clothes. Turnabout is fair play.

I strip off my shorts first, letting them fall to my feet before I step out to sweep my top over my head. Avoiding his eyes, I make elaborate work of adjusting my swimsuit. I’m wearing a white bikini that ties at the sides and in the middle between my breasts, and I’m not going to pretend I don’t rock it. I made a couple of guys trip the last time I wore it at Oak Street. I was with Jillian who laughed and called me a showoff. It was a last-minute addition to my suitcase, not sure what my trip would bring, and I’m glad I have it.

I finally look at him. I can’t see his eyes with his sunglasses on, but his jaw is set, his arms crossed.

He shakes his head at me. “Christ.”

“Problem?” Now who’s feeling smug?

“Is the only thing stopping me from seeing you naked three ties?”

I look down at myself. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

“You’re sent straight from hell.”

I laugh, point to the lake and yell, “Race ya!”

Then I take off knowing he’ll follow.

The water is cool on my overheated skin as I bound into the water. Before I can dive under he catches me by the waist and I scream, laughing as he captures me. The heat of his body sears my skin for a fraction of a second before he twists me around, and puts me behind him, racing in front of me.

“Hey, that’s not fair.” I dive after him, jumping on his back, surprising him.

We tumble into the water and it’s the lightest and most carefree I’ve felt in a long time. Pure happiness radiates in my sternum as I emerge from under the surface, rising under the heat of the sun.

Jackson stands, water streaming from his perfect body, like a golden god. He slicks back his hair. “You brat.”

I stick out my tongue and he catches me, pushing me back under the water. I squirm out of his grasp and swim, coming up for air with a gasp three feet away from him. “I win.”

He laughs and lunges for me. Starting the process all over again. We fight, giggling like giddy kids as we try to tackle each other. I sink into the moment, completely present. Not thinking of my plans, or my goals, or my life back home. This, right here, under the hot sun and cool water is all I think about.

In our battle we try to ignore the lust between us, but it’s hard. With each slide of slick skin against skin, each brush of my breasts against his chest, each sharp inhalation of breath, it pulses and grows. Threatening to overtake us.

It’s foreplay, and we both know it.

He grabs me, pulls me around the waist, and our bodies slide together, slippery from the water. I’m so tall we’re a perfect fit, and his cock nudges me. He’s hard. I’m wet.

We’re in over our waists now and I wrap my arms around his neck and twine my legs around him.

He squeezes tighter, gripping my hips and tugging me down so I feel his erection pressed between my legs where I want him most. I shiver.

He meets my eyes. “You make me forget.”

The comment startles me. “Forget what.”

“Reality.”

I don’t know what he means. “Is that bad?”

“Yes.” His hands slide up and down my back. “I like how you tremble when I touch you.”

My attention falls to his mouth and I clasp his hips tighter with my legs. “I can’t help it.”

“There’s no way we’re not going to fuck.”

He’s right. There is no way. I weave my fingers through his hair. “Once isn’t going to be enough for me, Jackson.”

If I’m going to fall, it’s going to be on my terms.

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “All right.”

My heart gives a hard thump. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m going to break all my rules for you.” One hand comes to rest on my hip, the other at the nape of my neck. “It means, while you’re here, you’ll be the only woman I sleep with. It means I want you that much.”

I already know this because chemistry like this is too consuming for anyone else to satisfy, but I didn’t expect him to admit it. “I’m still going to try and get you to come work with me.”

He smiles. “And I’m still going to say no.”

“Deal.”

Then his mouth closes over mine, and everything but him ceases to matter.