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Emery startled from her spot on the shore.

His eyes flickered down her body, and he swallowed hard. She usually wore long dresses or jeans and tops with lots of fabric on the arms. Not tonight. Tonight, she wore pajama shorts beneath her oversized sweater and Jack glimpsed her gorgeous long legs for the first time.

Jesus Fucking Christ.

Of course, she had the finest pair of legs he’d ever seen.

Everything about the woman was made specially to torment him.

Jack came to a stop beside her. Emery was tall for a woman, but he still had to look down at her. She stared up at him, a little wide-eyed, swallowed hard, and looked out at the ocean.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, tucking a loose strand of her beautiful hair behind her ear. Silver rings sat on nearly every one of her fingers and long silver earrings hung from her ears. They were accompanied by two more piercings—little diamond studs that winked in the moonlight.

The woman was always jingling and jangling with jewelry.

Jack still imagined the sound of her jewelry making their song for a whole different reason—with every thrust of his body into hers.

Arousal flushed through him and he cursed inwardly. Every time he was around her, he felt like a fourteen-year-old boy with no control over his hormones. Jack looked away, watching the calm ripple of the waves.

“Are you okay?” Her soft voice filled the space between them, causing his skin to prickle with awareness.

He answered honestly. “No, I’m not okay.”

“Oh.” He could feel her looking at him, so he turned to meet her gaze. That ache in his chest only she caused made itself known. “Can I … help?” she asked.

It seemed to take a lot for her to ask him. Jack turned his body toward her. “If … if … okay …” He blew out air between his lips. “Say you have this friend. A good friend. And this friend has a husband.”

Emery nodded. It felt good to be the recipient of her undivided attention and focus. “So say you have this friend, and her husband—who you’ve made it clear to your friend that you don’t trust or like—makes a pass at you.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she gave him a gentle nod to continue.

“You tell your friend, right? You tell her what he did? Even if she blames you for it?”

To his shock and pleasure, Emery placed a hand on his arm. Her brow creased with concern. “Yes, Jack. You need to tell him. Cooper. You should tell him if Dana did that.”

A huff of dry laughter escaped him. Not because what she said was funny, but because he realized then that Emery paid a lot more attention than people thought.

She winced and dropped her hand, moving to retreat.

Jack reached for her, taking hold of her slim biceps to stop her. “No, I’m not laughing at you. I just … I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you see a lot more than you let on.”

Her eyes lowered, and not for the first time, Jack marveled at the length of her eyelashes. “People assume things about me.”

“It’s hard for them to do anything but assume if you won’t befriend them,” he told her gently.

“I don’t make friends easily. I told you that. I find it hard to converse with people I don’t know very well.”

“I get that.” Jack stepped closer until their bodies almost brushed. “But you seem to be able to talk to me. We practiced. And here we are.”

Emery studied his face for a second, her focus so intense, Jack’s heart hammered harder in his chest. “It wasn’t just practice. It’s your eyes. You have the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Fuck, but he wanted to kiss her so badly.

“Emery …” His voice was hoarse with that want.

She seemed to sense the change in him and instead of pulling away, she swayed a little closer.


Tags: Samantha Young Hart's Boardwalk Romance