Brittany wrinkled her nose. She supposed she could see it, but she wasn’t sure it was flattering for someone who wanted to be thought of as sexy.
She headed down to the beach, thinking that maybe John was watching the waves as he liked to do—as they both liked to do—when she stopped in her tracks.
He wasn’t down by the beach. He was sitting in a low beach chair in front of the fire. The shirt was unmistakable. No one else would wear a Hawaiian shirt that loud and ugly—especially with plaid board shorts.
She just hadn’t seen him right away because someone was sitting on his lap. Not just someone—it was Candice O’Reilly. Her twin sister, Barbara, who was never far behind, was sitting on the arm of the chair. Candy and Barbie were just as sweet, beautiful, and vacuous as their nicknames suggested. They had a thing for SEALs and hung out at Danny’s Palm Bar in Coronado—a favorite SEAL hangout—but this was the first time Brittany had seen them at one of the beach parties. They’d made no secret that they thought John was “hot,” but John had never taken them up on their subtle—or not-so-subtle—invitation(s). He usually stayed away from “frog hogs,” as the women who targeted SEALs to sleep with them were known.
Until now.
Brittany froze, watching in stunned horror as Barbie—or was it Candy?—leaned forward and kissed him. John’s hand spread over her back, pressed her more firmly against him. Until her sister playfully pushed her out of the way and said something along the lines of “my turn” before exchanging places, his hand still plastered on her sister.
Brittany could live to be a hundred and never forget that hand. The fingers spread wide. Pressing. Marking. Branding.
How desperately she’d longed to feel that hand on her. To have him kiss her like that.
The blood rushed out of her body in one draining wave. Her stomach rose to take its place. She was going to be sick.
She must have gasped, because her hand was already covering her mouth as bile rose in the back of her throat.
Had he heard her? She didn’t know, but at that moment he looked over and saw her. Their eyes met and held.
She knew her heart—her breaking heart—was in her gaze, but his was blank. Stark. Maybe a little too stark. It seemed wrong.
Just like the bottle of tequila in his hand, which he lifted to his mouth and took a long drink from. John drank beer. Coors Light, just like the rest of them.
But then he lifted his hand—his other hand—gave her a small wave, and smiled before turning back to the woman—women—on his lap.
That careless wave and smile shattered her heart completely. Brittany turned and ran, making it back to the house before the worst of the tears started.
She’d lain in misery for a few hours, asking herself what had happened and how she could have been wrong, when the answer came to her: Brandon.
That’s why she was here in John’s room, waiting for him. She had to know. Had her brother put him up to this, or had she been completely wrong about him?
Maybe the right word was “deluded.” She knew John had a reputation for having a good time with women—lots of women—but that was before he’d met her. Since almost the day she showed up at her brother’s beach house three weeks ago, he’d hung out with her. Only her.
But he’d never tried to kiss her.
Suddenly all the things her brother had said to her yesterday—had warned her about—came rushing back.“He’s a great guy—the best—but he never sticks with one woman for long. I don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”
Too late. Her broken heart started to pound as she heard the back door open and close downstairs.
She thought it might be Brandon, who had one of the rooms downstairs, until she heard the tread of footsteps coming up the stairs.
It was John, and he’d obviously walked back.
She glanced at the clock. Midnight. Early for him. Did that mean something?
He opened the door, stopping in his tracks when he saw her. For one fraction of an instant, she thought she saw sadness in his expression before it hardened to anger.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
She took a step toward him, but seeing the way he stiffened, she stopped. “I thought I’d give you a chance to explain.”
“Explain what?”
“What you were doing tonight with the O’Reilly twins.”
His eyes met hers without a flicker. He smiled again, that lazy, cocky smile that seemed to slice her confidenceto shreds. “I would think that was obvious. Having a good time.”
