“They wouldn’t do that.”

“People will do anything for money, Keri Ann.” He turned to me with an expression that said I should have known better.

“These people won’t.”

“Why don’t you do it?” he asked, pushing off the counter and coming toward me.

“Do what?”

“Call it in. You could renovate this kitchen with the money. Heck, probably the whole house.” He raised his eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t ever do that!” I was outraged. How could he say he trusted me one day, although I’d obviously broken that trust by telling two, no, make that three people, including Hector, and then ask me if I’d sell him out the next?

He stopped in front of me but looked into the distance. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“How?” I asked.

“How do I know you wouldn’t sell me out?”

“Yeah. Especially since I admitted to outing you to two people just this morning.”

He lifted a hand and ran it through his unruly hair. It caused my eyes to drop to his broad chest. “Well, here’s the thing, it seems to me you have a lot of people around here who care very deeply for you, and I doubt they would jeopardize you by selling me out, so I guess that makes me lucky to know you.”

I shrugged, warmed by his observation, and took a sip of coffee to cover my nerves at his nearness. I was relieved neither of us felt we had to mention our awkward almost kiss the night before. We could just move on as friends, as if the moment never occurred. As if just remembering my tongue touching his thumb by accident, and the sound he made when it happened, didn’t have my insides flipping over again. But sure, if he could forget so could I.

Yeah, right.

“Do you need to stay at the house today?” he asked.

I looked around. The walls were bare and washed and ready for paint. The floors needed to be sanded, cleaned, and stained, but that would require renting equipment, and I needed funds for that. The roofers would be busy all day, and I didn’t have to work until tomorrow. But there were always things I could be doing like cleaning, finishing the front porch, picking a paint color, working on some of my sea-glass and driftwood projects.

“I guess not, but—”

“Great,” Jack interjected. “Grab your swimsuit and whatever else you need for a day on the water. You are going to teach me to paddleboard. There’s some equipment under the beach house and we may as well take advantage of this good weather before the storm gets any closer.”

Swimsuit? My only swimsuit was a white string bikini Jazz had persuaded me to buy two summers ago. My black one piece had recently given up the ghost, and by that I meant it had become almost completely see-through. I could probably swim in the lycra shorts and tank I was wearing or I could just bite the bullet and try and be normal and unselfconscious.

“Uh ... sure. Let me just run upstairs and grab some stuff.”

* * *

The water was a little choppier than it had been that morning, but still calm enough to learn to paddleboard. We dragged the oversized surf-looking board out from under the beach house and over the small dune path. I was still wearing what I had kayaked in, but Jack had changed into the black board shorts I had seen him in the first morning he ran over to my house. I tried to watch where I was putting my feet rather than his muscly back carrying half the board right in front of me. It was mighty hard though, so I gave in and did an inventory of his body while he couldn’t see me.

His right arm with the medallion tattoo, signifying he was a Warrior of Erath, was flexed with the weight of the board, and his tan shoulder blades were dusted with the odd mole and freckle from time in the sun. On his left hip I could see a tendril of black ink from some hidden tattoo peeking out from his shorts.

I inhaled over the lump that seemed to be permanently lodged in my chest. His long legs had a sprinkling of dark hair over his calves and a chain of ink around his right ankle. God, even his feet were beautiful. And I kind of hated feet. How did people get made like this? We made it to the beach without me tripping.

Luckily, the tidal gullies that formed like long rivers in the low parts of the beach were still there and stretched out parallel to the ocean for several hundred yards in either direction. We wouldn’t have long until the tide was in. I directed him to the gully and we lowered the board in.

“This is a great way to learn, because you won’t be as afraid of your balance in twelve inches of water as you will out there with the swell of waves.”

There wasn’t anyone on the beach in our area as far as I could see. It was the middle of the week and we were in a section of seasonal rentals. “I’ll show you first.”

I grabbed the paddle and showed him how to straddle the board a bit further forward from where you wanted to end up and work your knees onto it. Then I tucked my toes under and with a hand bracing and balancing me, I used my bent knees to slowly raise myself into a standing position with my feet on the outer edges of the board rather than one in front of the other as one would on a surfboard. Using the paddle, I stuck it in the water to my side and used it to propel myself forward. Then I changed sides.

“See? Easy as pie. Just make sure and use your body, not your arms to paddle.” I grinned at him walking along beside me on the sand. “And to keep your legs slightly bent with your weight centered. Your turn,” I said, hopping off and using a foot to stop the board continuing away from us. We switched places. He was a fast learner.

We went back and forth along the gully until it almost disappeared with the incoming tide.

He nodded out at the water. “Time for the deep blue sea?”

“Yeah, you think you can keep your balance with me sitting on the end?” I challenged him.

“Is that even possible?”

“Well, I weigh a little more than a Golden Retriever, but I’ve seen it done with them, so let’s give it a shot.” I grinned.

I directed him to move his feet back a little, carefully climbed onto the board facing him, and crossed my legs. He was bracing all his muscles tight to keep the board from tipping, and I swore I could see every single muscle he had. We got to a balance point and he paddled toward the end of the gully that naturally curved toward the open sea.

“Wow, this is a work out.” He laughed as he turned the board and slowly slid over the small lapping waves out toward the ocean.

“Yeah, people actually do yoga on paddleboards if you can believe that.”

“I’ll be doing that in no time,” he joked. “My abs are steel fortresses that can handle anything.”

“I noticed,” I said, and then looked away quickly as I felt my cheeks heat. He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything, and I mentally kicked myself for creating an awkward moment just when we had gotten past our almost kiss. I didn’t notice we had gone a little too far out and suddenly a wave came on at an angle to the board. I braced to hang on, but we tipped and both of us splashed sideways into the water. I came up sputtering and lunged onto the board as he treaded water next to me laughing a big throaty chuckle.

“You did that on purpose!” I yelped.

He tipped his head back and laughed again.

“Seriously, I am terrified of sharks, get me back on the fucking board.” I tried unsuccessfully and ungracefully to kick my upper body onto the board amid the undulating waves as Jack tried to get his laughter under control.