Blayne walked with Larkin and Claire along the boardwalk in front of the Van Buren Boat Club, breathing in the cool, salty breeze and admiring all the sailboats entered in the Van Buren Wave Races. Seagulls called from the water’s edge, swooping to the surface then sailing high in the sky, and she followed their route, jealous of their view. She hoped to run into Cape Van Buren’s very own life coach, Clay Parrington, and nail down an interview for a board position. Then the list she and Jamie created would be complete.

“Look how vivid all the colors are.” She tilted her head to take in a particularly beautiful sail.

The one-design boat race was more than how fast the boat was in the water, it was also based on the best sail artwork. The boat that won the race didn’t necessarily win the competition. It made the event very unpredictable and, sometimes, quite volatile. Especially when the North Cove Mavens and South Cover Madams were involved. Art was very subjective, and the feud between north and south unfailingly stubborn.

Two years ago, a riot practically broke out between the North Cove Mavens and South Cove Madams over one particular boat. There was nothing scarier than a bunch of feisty AARP members battling it out with canes and swinging pocketbooks.

“The teal and fuchsia in this cobalt design are breathtaking.” She followed the line of a peacock on one sail. When the fabric was in full bloom, the peacock’s feathers spread in an amazing bouquet, and when it was folded, the peacock looked as though it peeked around the mast pole.

Noticing how quiet her opinionated friends were, she turned around.

Both Larkin and Claire stared at her with open mouths.

“What?” She glanced about, trying to figure out what in the world was going on.

Claire cocked her head. “Who the hell are you…?”

“And what have you done with Blayne?” Larkin finished.

Blayne chuckled, the feeling reverberating up her throat and across her chest. It felt good to laugh. “Are the two of you mad? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stepped close to Larkin and touched her arm. “You feeling okay?”

Larkin sputtered. “Me?! You just used the words vivid and breathtaking. Blayne MacCaffrey doesn’t use words like vivid and breathtaking. You’re more of a ‘badass’ and ‘that’s the shit’ kind of gal. The only thing I’ve ever heard you be even close to poetic about is one of your roller derby jams.”

“Jam? Who wants jam?” Evette Kingsley walked up, flanked by Maxine and Janice. Evette looked like Popeye’s wife Olive Oyl and grew the most amazing berries in the world. “I have a fresh batch ready to bring to your store.”

“Better save me some,” Maxine piped up. She’d been using Evette’s berries and Janice’s flowers in her moonshine for years, and there was no getting the recipe out of her. It was hard enough to get any of her brew as it was—unless there was a good amount of cash involved.

Blayne appreciated the interruption. Larkin and Claire’s assessment was disturbing. Why was she acting so sappy? Maybe it was surviving a moose encounter.

Moose.

Jamie.

Oh no. The image of Jamie popped into her mind with his delicious mouth and to-die-for sexy shoulders. Her lips tingled along with the rest of her body. Shit. She had to rein in those betraying thoughts, and fast.

But her heart had a mind of its own. She cared, and it scared the shit out of her.

They were friends. They worked together.

Doesn’t mean you don’t want him.

Oh, shut up.

Great, now she was talking to herself.

“That’s great, Evette. I know we were getting low. Your jam doesn’t last long on my shelves.”

The North Cove Mavens could not even get a hint of her rekindled attraction for her ex or they’d be scheduling her wedding over at The People’s Church.

“That’s all fine and good,” Larkin butted in. “Let’s get back to why our Blayne is so full of smiles and sunshine.”

“Blayne?” Maxine asked, suspicious.

“Oh, please. It’s a beautiful day and the designs are spectacular.” She arced her arm out toward the rainbow of color floating on the North Cove waters.

Maxine played at adjusting the collection of silver bangles at her wrists. “Ah, I see what’s going on here. Things going well with Jay Astor, are they?”

Every flight or fight instinct she possessed charged through her system. How the hell was she going to get out of this one? “As a matter of fact. Yes. Jamie and I settled on our list of potential board members. We start our interview process on Monday.”

All three women lifted their chins and fluffed up like the peacock on the sail.

“Well, I hope I hear from the two of you,” Maxine gave them a pointed stare.

Evette shook her head. “A local business owner would be the perfect addition to the community center board.”

“Oh really, and does that include Shelly Anne Mills?” Maxine teased. Shelly Anne was the proud owner of the Flat Iron Coffeehouse. The best coffee along the east coast, but they never dared admit it in front of Evette. She owned The North Cove Confectionery on the north side, while Shelly Anne was a South Cove Madam, and with the feud and all…

Evette huffed. “Clearly, a North Cove Maven holds the more desirable characteristics for a responsibility such as this.”

Janice shook her red curls. “Please, ladies. Why don’t you be more obvious?”

The three women fell into a good-natured argument, and Larkin nudged Blayne’s arm. “Tell me what happened.”

Claire stepped closer, put her fingers over her mouth, and gasped as if in disbelief. “Tell me more,” she said louder than necessary.

Blayne shushed her. “I can’t believe you.”

“Oh, believe me. I can do way worse.” Claire folded her arms over her chest.

Phantom sensations of Jamie’s hands and lips ignited her skin, caressing, demanding…promising. She held her breath to prevent the sigh that rolled up her throat.

“Nothing happened.”

Claire opened her mouth to holler.

Blayne grabbed both ladies and tugged them farther down the pier. She tucked their arms in hers. “We met at the lighthouse to work. We climbed a tree.”

“What are you, Paul Bunyan’s sister?” Larkin laughed.

“I didn’t want to work in the lighthouse.”

“Ahhhhh…” Claire said. “Now that is an interesting fact.”

Blayne yanked them along, then slowed, worried it was too fast in her friend’s delicate condition. “Do you want to hear the story or not?”

“Do,” they answered in unison.

She sucked in a breath. “We came across a mama moose with her calf.”

“Oh, crap. Mama’s be crazy,” Claire teased.

“Long story short, the moose charged, Jamie knocked me down and shielded my body with his own.”

Larkin’s eyes lit with surprise. “Oh. Wow. That’s not the story I was expecting.”

Off the hook.

Blayne all but sang hallelujah that she didn’t have to admit to the kiss. “It was terrifying. The cow stomped a bit, hit his leg, but then left.”

“How’s Jay?”

That was what she wanted to know as well. “Last I heard, he’s okay. We were shaken up, his thigh had a nasty bruise on it, but otherwise okay.”

Claire shook her head. “My dad used to warn my brothers and me all the time about how dangerous the moose can be. They’re just so big.”

“A couple years ago a bull moose took on a Jeep. The Jeep didn’t make it,” Larkin added. She studied Blayne for a second. “So, you’re telling me that Jay saved you? How does that make you feel?”

Everything.

Confused.

Terrified.

She waved to dismiss the question and tried to redirect their attention to the sailboats. “What time is the race?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Larkin challenged.

Claire piped up. “Six p.m. They’re finishing all the sail art judging by four, then transition to the start of the race. Who do you think’ll win?”

“Now that is a question I can answer.” She stuck her tongue out at Larkin. She didn’t want to think too much about how selfless Jamie’s actions were. She had to admit they were friends against her heart’s better judgment, but anything beyond that was impossible. Pondering any of it too closely would only make the next few weeks harder. So she decided to live in the moment while he was here.

There was no way she was sharing that with Larkin. At least not now.

“I think Dr. Stanton’s team has the greatest chance. Max is an expert sailor.”

“Are you seriously going on again about Max Stanton?” Jamie’s deep voice washed over her like the bubbling waves upon the cove beach.

Blayne spun around. “Jamie.”

She hadn’t seen him in almost seventy-two hours, and the fact she had the time down so accurately meant she was in a heap of trouble.

* * *

Jay inhaled the sight of Blayne like he would a pizza after an involuntary fast. She must have come over to the Wave Races from work since she was sporting one of her vintage dresses and stockings with the seam up the back that drove him insane.

He wanted to dive under that skirt and follow where that seam disappeared with his eyes, his hands…then his tongue.

From the lighthouse until spotting the little crew on the boardwalk, he’d repeated over and over to keep his hands to himself. A few days apart would surely help his self-control. But they needed to get moving on their interviews if they were going to make the deadline, so it was time to get to work whether he liked it or not.

Blayne’s lips worked over silent words for a second, then finally added her voice behind them. “You know damn well the man is good with his hands. Makes for an excellent sailor.”

The twinkle in her eye challenged him, and he loved it now as he had so long ago. “Good with his hands, hm?”

Nodding, she pretended to study a sail’s painted artwork of old-school life preservers. “Great…with his hands.”

She was teasing, but damn if he didn’t bristle against the idea anyway. If he ever did see Stanton’s hands on her, he’d be hard-pressed not to break them, then punch the guy in his goddamn face.

Larkin laughed. “Oh, please. The triplets would have you tied to a brick and thrown you out to sea if you stepped one foot near the man. You said so yourself.”

Blayne’s eyes shot wide. “Larkin.”

And suddenly, the sun shone brighter and the air smelled sweeter.

“Is that so?”

She nibbled her lip, looking everywhere but him.

She’d let him believe she’d gone out the other night, but apparently Coach Dawson’s daughters had other plans. He’d thank them all later when he had the chance.

He’d given her space after their moose encounter Wednesday. Having her in his arms again, holding her, tasting her was exactly what he wanted, but she didn’t trust what was between them, nor did she trust him for that matter. Retreat was necessary to protect his progress.

Seeing her now in the flesh almost made it impossible not to gather her up and show her just how happy he was to see her, how thrilled he was to hear she never did go out with the artist.

She wouldn’t admit it yet, but she’d belonged to him since they shared pints in Ireland…and he belonged to her.

The North Cove Mavens joined the group. “Asking your mom to be on the board, James?” Maxine asked.

Jay could smell something that stank of trouble in the question. He hadn’t realized how interested the townspeople would be in serving on the board, but as soon as word got out that they were putting together the committee, the lighthouse phone had been ringing off the hook.

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. She and my dad will be traveling back and forth to Europe for some business and pleasure over the next few years, so she won’t have the time.”

The look of relief on Maxine and Evette’s faces was comical. One less in the pool of competition, he guessed.

“Oh! Well, that’s good that they’ll get to travel. How fortunate for her,” Maxine replied.

Blayne guffawed. “And you, Maxine. Subtlety is not your strong point.”

“Look who’s talking about subtleties. You’ve been panting like a pup in heat since Jay walked up.”

Her jaw dropped to her chest and she sputtered. “I have not…you don’t know…I can’t believe—”

“Are you actually going to finish any of those sentences, dear, or is Jay’s presence a little too much for you to handle?”

Claire and Larkin were laughing so hard Jay was afraid the Van Buren baby might be born right then and there. He liked the idea of Blayne being hot and bothered by him, but teasing her about it was not the way to win her over.

“To be fair, Ms. Van Buren, a board member of the Archer Conservation Park of Cape Van Buren will need to be very poised and diplomatic. Quick barbs and ribbing really aren’t what we’re looking for,” he said.

Maxine Van Buren’s mouth melted into a thin line and her eyes narrowed into slits. “Is that so, James Astor?”

Aw, fuck, he was in for it now. Where the hell was Ryker? He could work magic when it came to smoothing things over with his grandmother.

“Well, I guess you also won’t be looking for any of my moonshine, will you?”

Ouch, that hurt. The woman’s moonshine was the finest kind. And that was coming from a man who’d traveled the world and back.

Larkin wrapped her arm around Maxine. “Be nice, Maxine. He’s making a solid point.” She then whispered something in Maxine’s ear that made her mouth relax into a smile and her eyes soften to their good-natured twinkle once again as she glanced from Blayne back to him.

Apparently, Ryker had passed on some of that magic to his wife. He’d have to thank her later.

Blayne took the distraction and jumped in. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to go find Clay Parrington. I heard he’d be down here today.”

She dragged him down the pier toward Beach Booty, the North Cove’s go-to shop for beachgoers, from shark tooth necklaces to bathing suits and everything in between.

“Whoa, slow down.” He resisted. She walked faster in her heels than he did in sneakers.

“I was not panting.”

His grin was quick, and his thoughts wicked. “You are now.”

Arched brows drew together in a warning. “I wouldn’t even start if I were you.”

Jay loved the spark in her light eyes when she was worked up, and he couldn’t help but push just a little. It was better than the loss and sorrow he witnessed in the tree.

If he could keep that look from ever crossing her face again, he’d move the heavens and empty hell.

He drew a finger down her bare arm, clavicle to wrist. Technically, he was still successful at keeping his hands to himself. A finger didn’t count. “I like your dress.”

A small shiver shook her frame and his grin grew broader.

He grabbed her hand. “Come on, Clay is part of the team on boat seven. Let’s grab an ice cream, then we’ll be able to get an appointment set up when the crews gather to prepare for the race.

She didn’t hesitate, but she walked slowly. “I guess I could use a small bowl from The Ice Cream Cove.”

She was thinking a lot these days. Taking her time and sometimes responding in the exact opposite way that she used to. It made sense. People grew up in ten years, but it made his ability to read her a challenge.

“Thank you, by the way. Standing up to Maxine might cost you in the moonshine department.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll share,” he said with a wink.

She stopped dead. “Hell, you don’t know me very well, do you? Her brew is not something you share, but something you greedily keep all to yourself.”

“Blayne.” He laughed. But the look on her face spoke more clearly than any words could. No moonshine for him.

She slid her hand into his. “Now, about that ice cream…”

Adrenaline surged through him with the need to jerk her close, to make her promises. Promises he’d keep this time.

But instead, he played it cool, walking the pier hand-in-hand as if they did it every day. The truth was, it was painful. It gave him a taste of everything he wanted in one simple gesture of acceptance.

He’d savor every second, the feel of her palm against his, the awareness of her next to him, her scent floating on the breeze. His body responded with its familiar tightening, but it was so much more. He was solidly fucked.

They stepped up to the open window of The Ice Cream Cove, and she dropped his hand to get a better look at the flavors.

He wanted to resist every time she let go.

Her eyes were bright. “I know what I want.”

“You always have.” He laughed, though he felt anything but light. “Peanut Butter-Vanilla Dream?”

“Every time.” She snapped a finger then spun away from the counter. “In a bowl, please.”

“You heard the lady,” he said to the ice cream concierge. “I’d like cookie dough in a waffle cone, please.”

Grabbing the ice creams, he joined her, standing in front of an impressive boat with a sail of an incredible setting sun. “Damn, that’s beautiful.”

She accepted her ice cream with a nod. “The art is my favorite part of the Wave Race.”

He raised a brow. “Now that does take me by surprise. I figured you would be all over the physical competition of it.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I love a good fight, but there is something impossible about choosing a winner from an ocean of beauty. I’d never want the job, but I’m always thrilled by the announcement.”

He studied her. “You surprise me at every turn. Your competence, your work ethic, your insight.”

“You have, too.” A large glob of ice cream disappeared off her spoon. She worked it in her mouth with a thoughtful look on her face. “Jamie, this idea you have…Archer’s Angels…it’s beyond amazing.” Her voice was soft and dreamy. He didn’t know if it was the ice cream or his idea, but hearing his name spoken in such a way only solidified his determination.

Somehow, someway, he would change her mind about them.

About him.

“I’m excited to iron out the details and propose it to Larkin. I’ll make sure you know when. I’d like you to be there.”

“Thank you.” Her whisper struck right in his heart.

He held her eyes, and a silence stretched between them, serenaded by the waves lapping against the boat hulls and the call of the seagulls.

He slid his fingers along her jaw and cupped her chin, his big hand a contrast to her porcelain skin and ruby lips. “Blayne…”

Her eyes wavered, then she looked past him. “Oh! There’s Clay.”

Jay followed her gaze until the man in question came into view. A sigh rose in his chest, but he held it in with a quick nod. “Let’s go then.”

It only took a few minutes for her to grab Clay’s attention and detail the board member responsibilities for him. Her eyes were bright with excitement. There was no way the man could resist her enthusiasm.

“Any questions?” Jay asked.

Clay shook his head. “Not about the board position, but I do have some ideas for the center’s programs. I think our town could use a few opportunities to learn coping skills, how to set life goals and make them a reality. And not just for the adults, but if we could teach children early and repeat it often, the effect on their adult life is immeasurable.”

Jay loved his passion.

“This is exactly the kind of thing Larkin Sinclair, excuse me, I mean Larkin Van Buren has in mind.” She rummaged through her bag, then handed him a business card. “Give me a call and we’ll set up a meeting. I think she’ll love every word you have to say.”

“Excellent. I’m excited to be a part of this. Thanks for thinking of me.” A whistle blew, and he glanced at his boat. “I better get on board. Wish us luck.” He saluted.

She and Jay watched him board the boat then they hurried alongside the ice cream shop as a crowd of people rushed the pier to see the boats off.

Laughing, she blew her bangs from her eyes and leaned against the wall of the building. “This is fantastic. He’s the perfect fit. Larkin’s going to die.”

He nodded. “I consider that interview in the bag. One down, and we hadn’t thought to start until next week.”

“We really do work well together, don’t we?” she admitted with a grin.

Her statement set something off inside of him. Something raw and needy and selfish.

In one fluid motion, he stepped into her, melting their bodies against the side of the building. He took her mouth with his own. Her flavor exploded on his tongue, and a low rumbling growl rolled up his chest.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, leveraging her body tighter to his. The feel of her breasts crushed against him almost knocked him on his ass. His hands itched to be filled with her warm, womanly curves, and he dragged them down her sides then around her hips to cup her ass. Yanking her closer, he ground himself against her softness, trying to ease his wanting.

The small whimper that escaped her lips registered in his brain like an aphrodisiac.

So much for keeping his hands to himself.

If he was going to fail, this was the way to go.