Chapter 2

TWO

Jesse

I’d always been obsessed with the ocean. And not the YOLO, $4.99 mug that said “life’s a beach” obsessed or someone who has their entire bathroom covered in seashells and annoying, quirky little wooden signs that said ‘wipe your sandals’ or ‘wine o’clock.’

No, I was legit. Or at least, I made a promise to keep telling myself that. I was a competitive swimmer who’d grown up going to the ocean at least once a year even though my single mother hadn’t really had the means to make it happen. Thank God my gram and my pap lived out here, so we could stay for free.

We both had the ocean in our blood, my mother jokes.

Photos of me at the beach when I was young littered my room. I was all brown braids and pink cheeks, hazel eyes brimming with excitement as I held up a seashell. It was a different time and the contrast of the state of the house between now and then was a stark reminder.

The bright white paint was faded and chipped. A spot on the ceiling in my bedroom leaked, and the mice were slowly waging war and making advancements in the attic every night. Despite all that, my grandparents' run-down house had an excellent location right on North Carolina’s intercoastal waterway. They’d moved to a retirement village further south and weren’t quite ready to part with the North Carolina house yet. So, I lived here and kept the place up while attending school. Well, I was supposed to be attending school.

Though the house was making its own case of giving up … crack by crack.

I pushed my paddle harder into the intercoastal waterway, my kayak zooming through the reeds. At least now that I was kicked out of school, I should have more time to work on the house. I hoped that I could fix it up and prove to my grandparents I could care for it. Maybe one day I could buy it.

I tried not to think about the letter from the township on my kitchen table, calling the house a liability. There was a lot of other legal jargon, but the intent was clear: fix it up or it’ll be condemned.

A large splash jerked me out of my thoughts. There were alligators around, after all. What was that moving lump up ahead?

Oh. Oh.

Only his upper body was visible as his lower half disappeared under the water. He stared at me, open-mouthed. I had a great view of the etched ‘V’ below his ab muscles. You didn’t see them built like that every day.

I’d read a dirty romance book once that referred to it as a ‘cum gutter.’

My face went red just thinking about it.

Focus, Jesse.

Right. The hot guy. Was he stuck or caught on something? Fishermen sometimes left traps and other things that could easily ensnare a swimmer or kayaker. Maybe he needed help? He looked embarrassed about something.

“You good?” I asked.

Blonde dreadlocks rested against his tan shoulders with an odd tinkling sound. Bits of shells and sea glass were woven into the strands intricately; they were either in the dread itself or in one of the many braids that went down his back.

Hot and unique-looking. Lucky me.

Wide eyes stared back at me. They were a bright, alarming turquoise the color of which I’d only seen on tv or photos of far-away islands, but nowhere in the oceans I’d been around. Certainly not here. Green and blue blinked, and pale, pink lips parted slightly and revealed perfect and glaringly white teeth.

Water sluiced down his heavily muscled upper torso as he straightened. The water ran over an odd tattoo that snaked around his upper arm and across his clavicle to wrap around his neck. It reminded me of the traditional tribal tattoos from Polynesian cultures. Not ones done at a shop, but ones done the old-fashioned way—with a bone needle and ink.

He looked like one of those muscled fire dancers from commercials except blond and blue-eyed.

I gripped my paddle tightly, aware that my wet hair and lumpy wetsuit was not the ideal way I wanted to meet someone who looked like him. A stab of the familiar fear and anxiety cropped up, but I immediately shoved it down. Not now.

I was used to people staring at my rolls and my thick legs, and yep, even my ass. At twenty-six, I was sick of the shit and the yo-yo diets. I’d made a vow to be fat and happy. Or tried to. It was a work in progress. Fuck men and their expectations. I wouldn’t treat this one any differently.

I cleared my throat, realizing we’d been just staring at each other. I looked left and right, frowning at him. “Did you lose your kayak or your paddle board?”

We were pretty far out from the nearest beach house by a few miles. Wetlands stretched all around us, so it didn’t seem likely he’d swam here. He looked like a surfer or a paddle board guy.

He certainly looked strong enough.

I dipped my paddle in the water and gave a small push toward him. He flinched away like I’d charged him with my kayak. His arms pinwheeled out behind him, water sloshing toward me in a mini wave.

My kayak bounced up and down.

“Dude, chill. Just making sure you’re OK.” I paused, taking in the utter look of panic on his face. “You are good, right? This isn’t a two-person kayak, but we could figure something out.”

I reached a hand out toward him. I didn’t know why. His nostrils flared the closer I got to him.

I tried again. I knew I wasn’t super attractive or anything, but this hardly seemed like a reasonable reaction.

“Hello?”

He blinked and opened his mouth. An odd, huffing sound came out before he cleared his throat and tried again, blushing like mad.

“H-hi.”

An utterly gorgeous, shy man?

And it wasn’t even my birthday.

I put my paddle down across the length of the boat and with my free hand, dug in my life vest pocket. I pulled out a small pocket knife and flipped the blade open, offering it to him, handle first.

“Here. Assuming you’re stuck?”

Those eyes went wide at seeing the blade, then shrunk as I offered it to him. He held my gaze for a moment longer before snatching it and diving under the water.

I frowned at the brief bit of contact. His touch had been cool, but warmer the more he held onto me. He must have been in the water for quite a while to be so cold.

Seconds went by. Then minutes.

Anxiety pooled in my belly. What if he was down there drowning? Caught in some trap? And I was here … waiting like a ninny?

I had to get out of the kayak and see. I was the only one around for miles.

I secured the paddle inside the kayak and pushed myself further into the reeds until the bow stuck. Assured it wouldn’t be going anywhere, I clipped off my lifejacket and threw it in the boat as well. Swinging my legs over the side, I tumbled over the side of the kayak and into the inlet with all the grace of a flailing duck. I’d never mastered how to get out of this thing with any sort of dignity.

I sank immediately into the murky water, my feet sinking into the sandy bottom as the water settled up to my breasts.

No gators. There were no gators. Don’t think about the gators, and they wouldn’t come.

Taking a steadying breath, I dove under the water toward the group of bubbles he’d disappeared under.

Salt water burned my eyes as I forced them open, my hands blindly reaching out for him. My fingers jammed hard against something hard and scaly, but before I could completely panic, strong arms seized me around my waist and pulled .

We exploded up through the water, blondie striding through the water with me in his arms like a proper damsel, dumping me back into my kayak like I was an errant toddler and not a grown woman closer to the three-hundred-pound mark than the hundred-pound one. My tailbone hit the bottom of the kayak hard and the vessel momentarily dipped down in the water before its natural buoyancy bobbed us back up.

I grit my teeth. I wouldn’t complain too much, because I wasn’t sure what I had touched, but it felt scaly and I was pretty happy to be back in my kayak, away from it.

I turned around, but blondie had disappeared back under the water.

Hopefully, it wasn’t a gator. I wasn’t sure I had the fortitude or strength to wrestle a full-grown man out of a gator’s mouth.

Fuck.

I scooted forward and pushed desperately with my paddle to get out of the reeds. I made it back to open water just as Blondie’s head broke the surface.

Thank Christ.

“Hey! What was that about? I—”

Blondie cut off my tirade, grabbing the front of my kayak with two massive hands and pushing. Not expecting such a sharp and sudden change of direction, my body slammed forward, and I almost tumbled into the water again.

We moved backward fast and away from the reeds. Away from whatever he’d been caught in. And whatever scaly thing lurked in the reeds.

I was going to yell at him again, but his eyes brokered no negotiation whatsoever when he quickly glanced behind us. Following his gaze, I caught a ripple in the water following behind him. Us.

From this distance, it looked like a bumpy log.

Oh fuck, there was an alligator.

I gripped the edges of my kayak, holding on and settling my useless paddle in my lap. I’d only get in blondie’s way, and we were moving. We were already out into the middle of the inlet and then back toward the clump of houses and decks where I’d launched from.

How was he moving so fast? It was deep here; he couldn’t touch. I glanced at his determined face, teeth grit in concentration as his muscles worked to push me further away. He hadn’t even broken a sweat yet! Damn, he was strong.

“T-thanks. I didn’t even see him,” I managed shakily, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I realized how close both of us had been to being on the local news. “I think I touched him though.”

He huffed through his nose, barely breathing hard despite the effort he was putting forth. “I—I owe you a f-favor for the knife,” he replied. “I hate fishermen and their nets.”

I blinked at the full sentence. His speech pattern lilted lyrically, and I couldn’t place the accent. It was somewhere between a southern twang and Irish, as strange as that sounded. Almost as though he knew the correct words, but not how to say them.

I shook my head. “Yeah, you have to be careful in the reeds. That’s why I typically stay out in open water.…” I trailed off awkwardly. I usually never ventured into the reeds. Too big of a risk of running into … things.

“Well, thanks anyway,” I mumbled.

Lights twinkled nearby as dusk embraced us, signaling we were close to my family’s run-down beach house and the small dock I’d launched from.

Only three houses sat in this bit of isolated waterway, and all three families had owned these properties together for about a hundred years. My grandparents were loath to sell like so many others had and let the area fall victim to commercialism and the tourist board. Slowly, the heavily populated tourist areas further south had creeped up into this small little coastal town.

From the water, my house looked sad and derelict compared to the much nicer, more updated houses on either side of it. Next to the bright lights and fresh colors of the new houses, mine looked dingy and sagging. Their docks were fresh and made from recyclable plastic material; mine was dark and aged, sagging and prone to give me splinters if I went barefoot. One day the whole thing would probably collapse into the waterway.

I pointed wordlessly at the first one on the left, heaving myself over the side of the kayak, tumbling into the water. There truly was no easy way to disembark gracefully.

I shook my hair out, unembarrassed.

“Thanks again. Did you want to come in? I owe you a beer, I think.” I jerked my thumb at the house, only blushing a little. Shit, was it clean? How bad was the mess? It wasn’t like I’d known that I’d run into a hot guy on the waterway.

He grabbed my wrist, his rough, callused hand pulling me close to him without warning. He caught me against his chest, and the smell of the ocean filled my nose. He smelled like salt and sand, with a hint of something more; something wild, and … spicy?

“Do you live here?” he asked roughly, the sound reverberating from his chest more than his throat.

“Yeah. We used to just come part time, but I’m living by myself at the moment. Quarter-life crisis and all that. I’m uh, trying to fix it up.” My mouth snapped shut. He didn’t give a shit about my sad life story.

My kayak bumped up against the old wood dock, but neither of us paid it any attention as we stood next to it in the shallow water.

Those aquamarine eyes glowed in the semi-darkness. And his defined muscles were all right there. Rarely had I met a man strong enough to hoist my ass. Which was super hot, by the way. Most men wouldn’t even try to lift me, let alone succeed.

At this point in my life, I had little fear of rejection. I’d had enough to fill anyone’s cup. What was the worst that could happen, right? Leaning forward, I went for it, hooking my arm around his neck as my lips hovered near his.

He’d either go for it, or jerk away. I was prepared for either.

What I wasn’t prepared for was a complete mauling.

As if a switch flipped, the arm holding my wrist shot around my waist and dragged me against him, the other going to the back of my head and holding me still. He spun in the water, little waves crashing around us as he slammed my back up against the wooden post of the dock.

I ignored the scrape of the rough wood, hoping we missed the sharp barnacles, then deciding it would be worth it if we didn’t. I’d take any amount of splinters or wounds in exchange for a little action. His lips descended onto mine and he assaulted me in the best way possible.

I’d kissed a fair share of guys, but what my blond man lacked in technical precision, he made up for in sheer enthusiasm and passion. I could only hold on as he devoured my lips, his pelvis pressing up against mine. His kiss was oddly cool, yet stoking a fire deep in my belly. Our teeth bumped together, but I didn’t care, surprised and hopelessly aroused by his need. He bit down on my lower lip and tugged, a low growl rumbling from his chest. I cursed my wetsuit, unable to feel much of him.

He pushed me back further, the hand around my waist sneaking up between my breasts and gripping my neck. His thumb pressed against the pulsing vein in my neck, and his fingers easily wrapped around my throat.

Good god.

I moaned, my head falling back against the wood, water sloshing all around us. Never in my life had I hated a wetsuit more than in this moment. I wanted to feel his body on mine without barriers. I —

He pulled away abruptly, so terribly abruptly that I sank momentarily under the water. I coughed and sputtered, grabbing onto the side of the deck to keep me in place, cursing as I almost sliced my hand open on a barnacle. I tried to glare at him, but I was still too dazed and confused.

“I must go. Goodbye.”

My mouth hung open as he turned and dove with insane grace back into the water, casually swimming off into the sunset like the lead in a goddamn rom com.

What the—

“Wait a damn minute! Where are you going? There’s nothing out there!”

The inlet was part of the intercoastal waterway that winnowed out to the Atlantic Ocean. He was swimming south, and I knew we were the last few houses for a good twenty miles. Where the fuck was he going , then?

I held on tightly to the dock, refusing to look away. Refusing to believe he was just … swimming off into the darkness. And yet he did.

“Fuck. Fuck .”

I’d invited him in, but he hadn’t taken me up on it. I hadn’t found out a single thing about him, not even his fucking name.

I cursed as I realized my kayak was happily floating away. I dove after it, bringing it back and tying it to the dock angrily. I sat on the edge for a long time, my eyes straining to glimpse my mysterious man as the sun dipped below the horizon. Maybe he had a kayak somewhere nearby, offshore. Maybe he was camping in the public park a mile away. People often did.

Wet and grumpy, I staggered to the rusty outdoor shower and yanked on the chain, sending a cascade of freezing cold freshwater over my body. The jolt to my system helped pull my head out of my ass … a little bit, at least.

Focus on what needed to be done. That’s what I always did when life got too much to handle. My gaze turned to the house: once a bright white, it was now dirty and dingy looking. Maybe if I painted it a dark color, that would help? Ha, what a sad, desperate attempt to hide the fact that it was falling into disrepair.

It had been a beautiful, tidy seaside manor once upon a time, but now the front porch was unstable, and the back deck creaked and bowed if you ran across it. Welcome to America, where the next generation is quickly becoming poorer than the last.

I didn’t mind the old plumbing and the cracked windows, or how the wind sometimes cut through the gaps in the wood. I thought it was a perfect retreat for a dumpy, nearing middle-aged woman changing careers and with no real prospects in life.

Just like the house, I was a real disappointment to everyone. We were made for each other.

I grit my teeth against the cold water sluicing down my body, but it did nothing to quench the fire in my core.

Stupid men and their stupid mouths.

I toweled off and headed inside, intent on a bagel and a quick date with the vibrator that waited inside my top left drawer next to my bed. Then I’d attack the house like I wished I could attack Mr. Blondie.

First I’d vacuum, but maybe then I could go get some varnish from the hardware store on the highway. If I stained the deck, maybe that would help …

Casting another look around the dirty kitchen, despair settled around me like a heavy jacket. Fixing this house wouldn’t change anything; it wouldn’t help. No matter how much money I spent on it, it was what it was; just like me.

Neither of us could truly be fixed.

As I stomped into the bedroom, dripping water on the worn floorboards, I tried to get Blondie out of my head, but I knew I’d been thinking about him when I took care of myself later. A strong jaw, quivering muscles, and those eyes …

Cum gutters.

I flopped down on the bed and snatched up my toy, refusing to feel any guilt. It wasn’t like I would ever see him again, after all.