Crazy for Love

“I’m starting to believe you really aren’t a player, because this is the worst seduction ever.”

“Oh,” he said, unwilling to let another full word pass his lips. He’d just blurted out the most insulting things he’d ever said to a woman. And, of course, he’d said them to the nicest girl he’d met in years. How had this become such a disaster? “I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Lucky for you, I’m one of the few women in the world who actually revels in being called normal. I’ll even take average at this point.”

“Chloe,” he managed. That one pained word was all he could get out before he slowly lowered himself to the bench seat behind him. Suddenly, he didn’t care about the dangers of being on a boat in open water. He didn’t care that Elliott was leaning out way too far to slip the squirming fish back into the water.

Today Max Sullivan had discovered that he only had two speeds: fake and charming or freakishly awkward. Jesus. He’d spent so many years pretending to like women he didn’t care for that he couldn’t manage the most basic interaction with a girl he really did.

Chloe dropped into the space beside him and pressed her knee against his. “Max?”

He shook his head.

“You know what?” When she took his hand, her fingers felt beautifully delicate sliding between his. “In all honesty, I’m totally going to have sex with you, too. So it’s a good thing you’re onboard.”

Max narrowed his eyes at her. “Is that a joke?”

“Well, the ‘onboard’ part was a joke, but maybe not a good one, if you have to ask. But I wasn’t joking about having sex with you.”

“You must have been.”

“No. I haven’t been celibate, but I’ve been monogamous, so I understand that it feels…awkward.”

“By awkward, I assume you mean the ridiculously stupid shit that keeps spilling from my mouth?”

She inclined her head graciously, but he caught the smile that hovered on her lips.

“You have a boyfriend?”

Her head popped up, alarm flashing through her eyes. “No! Of course not. Not anymore. What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“The kind of girl who’d consider having sex with a complete jackass like me.”

“Ha!” She smiled. And then she smiled wider, and Max felt the world flash around him. In that moment, he knew he wore the same expression that Elliott had worn minutes before. Damn.

Chloe’s hand squeezed his. “I guess I’m a bad girl then, Max. A very bad girl.”

Oh, Jesus. A stupid smile took over his lips and wouldn’t give up. He wondered if there were little hearts spinning around his head. She was very obviously not a bad girl, but what could be sexier than a good girl looking to get dirty?

He apparently had no gift for smoothness unless he was lying, so Max kept his mouth shut and said nothing. Instead, he held Chloe’s hand and enjoyed the comforting feeling of the rough orange fabric of their life jackets rubbing together in the wake of each wave.

THE ANCIENT BIKE SHE’D borrowed from the resort made Jenn happy. The springs under the giant seat squeaked every time she turned a pedal, the tattered reed basket rustled in the wind and she had no idea where the clanking sound was coming from. But she felt free and daring as she flew down the narrow road, her hair tugging itself out of its braid with every gust of ocean breeze.

She felt like a kid again, strong and carefree. She’d been allowed to run wild at certain times of her childhood. After her father would leave on one of his three-week-long trips, her mother would usually take to her bed for a few days. Jenn had been responsible for bringing her mom tea and toast in the mornings, but the rest of the day had belonged to Jenn. She’d loved it. She’d been grubby and tan and as brave as any adventurer as she’d explored her neighborhood and the woods beyond.

Then she’d grown old enough to realize what her mom and dad always fought about the night before each of his trips. His other women. His other life.

Jenn shook off the memories and pedaled harder, passing the harbor and continuing on toward the older homes beyond. Utilities were expensive here, and most of the yards were adorned with clotheslines of snapping towels and clothing. She rode along the main road for a long time, thinking of nothing. She didn’t turn around until the houses disappeared and drifting sand turned the road into an obstacle course.

Her thighs ached, but for once, her heart didn’t. As she headed back toward town, she passed a cottage with a hand-lettered sign in the window: “Monthly Rentals! Inquire Within.”

Her pedaling slowed for a moment as she considered the idea of quitting her job and spending the summer at the beach. She could work at the resort again, or at a restaurant. It wouldn’t quite be running away, not what Thomas had done. Jenn wasn’t engaged; she didn’t even have a boyfriend.

If she wanted to leave her life behind and escape, no one would be hurt. Frankly, she’d be better off on her own. So far she’d managed to make a mess of every important relationship she’d ever had.

As if he were a harbinger of another disastrous turn, Elliott appeared on the path ahead, stepping out of a shop, head bent as he looked over a newspaper in his hand.

He was a good forty feet in front of her, and obviously absorbed in his reading. Jenn slowed, frantically looking around for the escape of a side street. But the ancient brakes of the bike squealed and startled Elliott, who glanced over the rim of his glasses and took a step back.