“So, what’s up?”
“I think we still need to talk. And I didn’t feel comfortable about the way you left last night,” he said.
“I can’t really do that here because if I have a customer they have to be my priority.” Thank God. The last thing shewanted to do was rehash last night and her bold proclamation that she was using him for sex.
“Can you take a break?” he asked.
“Can’t this wait until later?” She needed a good twenty-four hours of sleep and some distance between them so she could forget about how those big muscled arms of his felt around her. But right now all she could see was him last night as he’d moved between her legs and made her his once again.
“It could,” he said, moving slowly closer to the counter.
“Great,” she said.
“I can come back when the shop is closed and take you to dinner,” he offered.
She wanted to do that. Have a private dinner with him, but she knew she’d end up making love to him again. She needed to get out and do things with him that brought other people into their company. Otherwise, she’d fall back into bed with him and in two weeks he’d be gone and she’d be wondering why the hell she’d let him dominate her life again.
“I can’t tonight,” she said.
“Do you have plans?” he asked.
“Yes. I have a very busy life. You got lucky last night when you asked me to bring you that cupcake, which you never paid for,” she said.
“Let me rectify that now,” he said, taking out his credit card and handing it to her.
She went to the cash register and rang up his order from the night before and then slid the card through the credit-card machine. She focused on every detail of the mundane task, ignoring the spicy scent of his aftershave and the fact that he was so close she could reach out and touch him.
“I’ll need your signature,” she said as she tore the receipt from the machine.
She pushed the paper across the counter to him and handed him the pen with the flower on top of itthat they kept in a jar by the register. His fingers brushed hers and a little electric tingle went up her arm.
How could one man’s touch affect her so much?
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.
“I’m going to meet friends at the beach after work. We’re going to surf and do some paddleboarding.”
“Sounds interesting,” he said.
He was so close she could see the scar on the left side of his face more clearly. Last night when she’d been kissing him she’d concentrated on other places, but today in the bright sunlight that scar seemed more prominent.
“How did you get this?” she asked, reaching up to touch it.
“Our convoy was attacked. I went out looking for high ground to get a good shot, ran into an enemy combatant with a knife. We fought. He cut me.”
The words were sparse but the image in her head was horrifying. She reached over and touched the scar again. She didn’t know what to say. He stood there and let her touch his face. There was so much more to her ex-husband than she’d ever guessed.
“We’re planning to have a bonfire on the beach tonight. Do you want to join us?”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I had in mind. I wanted a private night with just you, me and not on the beach this time.”
As empathetic as she felt toward him right now, she wasn’t about to have another night alone with him. They needed to be with other people or they’d spend the entire time naked. And she’d learned more about Jay in the last five minutes than she had all of last night.
“My offer is the only one that’s on the table at this time,” she said.
“Fine, but I want to have a chance to talk to you properly,”he said, handing her back the pen. “I need to get your opinion on a job offer I got today.”
“Really? I thought you were just thinking about leaving the Marines,” she said.
