Page 60 of The Marriage Mistake

“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.

In the end, I didn’t get to ask, because right there, with the waves crashing around our legs and one arm banded around my back, Jack kissed me like he’d been telling the truth. I was freezing cold, and he was so hot. His lips tasted like salt and Jack. He smelled like the ocean and sweat and man. My head spun. My body pulsed.

I’d never felt desire like this before. My fingers raked over the wet strands of hair at the nape of his neck, and my other hand slid over his wet shoulder, his chest, his arm. He was so hard and warm and male. Sensations overwhelmed me, scrambling my mind. He kissed me and kissed me and kissed me.

And then a wolf whistle cut the air, and it felt like half the ocean had been dumped down my back. I jerked away from Jack, stumbling in the shifting water, my sodden shoe sinking into the wet sand beneath my feet. Jack’s arm remained around my back, and the corners of his eyes tightened as he looked at the shore.

A small clump of people were grinning at us and waving. Jack swore viciously, then smiled like nothing happened and lifted an arm in greeting, and I—I died. I perished right there, because I’d believed him. I’d thought he actually wanted to kiss me, that he was doing this because…because he was attracted to me?

What was wrong with me?

A man like Jack Mars didn’t go for women like me. He went for glossy-haired brunettes or beach-jogging women with perky boobs and tiny dogs.

My throat felt raw, like a gigantic, jagged boulder had been shoved down my gullet and left there. I couldn’t look at the people on the shore, couldn’t even acknowledge their presence. I just stared at the water and shivered.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s go back.”

I nodded, pulling away from his grasp so I could stumble back to shore on my own. The audience scattered as we approached, but I felt their gazes prickling over my neck, my back, my face. My sweater tried to float away, but I grabbed it and focused on wringing the water out as we walked.

It was a long, cold walk back to the car. By the time we got there, my teeth were clacking. Jack got a towel out of the back of the car and looked at me, frowning. “You’re freezing,” he said.

“I’m fine. But I’m going to get your car seats wet.” I reached for the towel he handed me but before I could grab it, he’d unfurled it and had it wrapped around my shoulders.

“Take off your clothes,” he said. “I’ve got a spare pair of sweats and a T-shirt in the back.”

“Ex-c-cuse me?”

He was already disappearing around the back of the car and opening the trunk. “You need to get warm and dry. Shit. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have brought you into the water, I just—” He cut himself off as I clutched the towel, shivering. When he reappeared on my side of the car, he frowned at me. “Take off your clothes, Ember.”

“You c-can’t just order me to t-take my clothes off.”

His eyes flickered, but there was no heat or laughter in them. “You’re freezing,” he repeated. “You need to get warm and dry. This was my fault.” He opened the back door and set a change of clothes on the seat, then gestured for me to approach. “I’ll hold the towel. You stand there and change.”

“I’m not t-taking my clothes off in front of you,” I protested weakly.

“Your lips are blue.”

I tried to formulate a retort, but nothing came out. Instead, the only sound was my chattering teeth.

He was right. I was way too cold.

“This is your f-fault,” I said, moving to the shelter of the open car door. I shoved the towel at him, and he unfurled it to form a barrier.

“I know,” he said, and he had the decency to sound remorseful.

“No p-p-peeking.”