“Wish you hadn’t left my bed. Wish you were still in there with me.”
As she nodded, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
“I don’t know what we’re doing,” she said softly.
“Helping each other heal, maybe.” He nipped the soft skin under her ear. “All I know is, I haven’t felt this alive in a long time. And that’s because of you.”
“It’s only because I remind you of—”
“Home.” He wouldn’t allow her to think for a second she was a replacement for his dead wife. He wasn’t certain in his own mind that wasn’t the case—her transformation last night had knocked the vinegar out of him, she’d looked so much like Janie—but he didn’t want Jess believing it. What kind of a scoundrel would that make him? “But it’s more than that. You remind me of the good things in my life.”
“You’re romanticizing about Beckon. It’s really not all that.”
In a way, they were both in the same situation. She’d had her heart broken. Of course she wouldn’t look upon home with fond memories now. He couldn’t go home because it wouldn’t be the same. He blamed himself for Janie’s death, and the guilt wracked him ten ways to Sunday, each and every day. “Maybe you’re right, sweetheart.”
Memories being what they were, he couldn’t deny he held Beckon close to his heart. But he didn’t need to win this round with Jessica today.
“I don’t have a single regret about last night. Well, except that I had the damn boot and cast still on.”
She turned away from the ocean and captured his attention with her pretty fresh-meadow eyes. “Not one, Zane? Not one regret?”
He blinked at the intensity of her question. This was important to her. “No.”
What he had were doubts. He wasn’t ready for anything heavy, with her or anyone else. The thought of entering into a relationship gave him hives. He might never be ready. He’d removed himself from any thoughts of the future and lived in the present. He’d shut himself off for two years. It was safe. His haven of sanity.
“Are you regretting what happened last night?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her answer.
Her chin lifted as she thought about it for an eternity of seconds. “Regret isn’t the right word. I think you’re right. We both needed each other.”
“We don’t have to attach any labels to last night,” Zane said. “It just happened.” He wanted it to happen again. But it wasn’t his decision. He was smart enough to know that.
“But where do we go from here?”
Breezes blew her hair off her shoulders, the golden strands dancing in the morning light. Her face was clean of makeup, glowing with a fresh-washed look. All of Zane’s impulses heightened.
“First,” he said, dipping his head to her mouth, “I give you a good morning kiss.” He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her soundly. She made a tiny noise in the back of her throat that made him smile inside. He could kiss her until the sun set and wouldn’t tire of it. He inched away from her face as her eyes opened, glowing with warmth. God, she was sweet. “If you’re inclined to do some cooking this morning, we have breakfast. Mrs. Lopez doesn’t work on Sunday. And then we do whatever comes natural. No pressure, Jess.”
He’d had sex with Janie’s younger sister. He should be beating himself up about that now, but oddly he wasn’t. He couldn’t figure the why of it. Why was being with Jess making him feel better about himself instead of worse? He had nothing to offer her but strong arms to hold her and a warm body to comfort her, if she needed them. He couldn’t pursue her. It wouldn’t be fair to her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her.
A soft, relieved breath blew from her lips. “That sounds good to me, Zane.” She gave him a sweet smile and handed him his crutches. “Meet me in the kitchen in half an hour.”
His gaze landed on the curvy form of her backside as she strode inside the house. He hung his head. Oh, man. He was in deep.
Life at 211 Moonlight Drive wasn’t going to get any easier.
Two and a half months after his accidental fall off a Los Angeles stage, Zane had gotten a good report from his doctor. His foot had healed nicely and was now out of the cast. His wrist had taken longer than expected to heal, but that, too, was in great shape and cast-free. Jessica was almost as relieved as he was, hearing the news today after driving him to his appointment. Zane had never gotten used to the crutches and now, with a little physical therapy, he’d be back to normal, good as new. And her duties wouldn’t be so up close and personal with him any longer. She could concentrate on work and try to forget about making love with him two nights ago.
The new Jess would’ve let it go by now.
But traces of the old Jess were resurfacing, and she wanted to kick her to the curb. Falling in love with Zane would be a bonehead stupid move. He was still in love with Janie, and nothing much could persuade her otherwise. How could she be sure that the night they’d had sex wasn’t more about her resemblance to her sister than any intense affection Zane had for her?
“I feel like celebrating,” Zane said as she drove toward the gates of his home.
“I bet you do. But you can’t go dancing just yet. You have to get through physical therapy.”
From out of the corner of her eye, she spied Zane flexing his hand. “I’m fine. Just dandy. Even wearing my own boots for a change.”
She took her eyes off the road for a split second to gaze at his expensive boots. Snakeskin. Gorgeous. Studded black leather. They made her mouth water. “You do know you live on the beach. Sandals are expected. Even admired.”
A belly laugh rolled out of his mouth. “I could say the same about you. Lately, you’ve been wearing those highfalutin heels.”
“Me?” Yes, it was true. The new Jess wore pricey heels when she wasn’t in her morning walk tennis shoes.
“Yeah, you. Admit it. You’re happier in a pair of soft leather boots with flat heels than those skyscrapers you’ve taken to wearing. Not that I mind. You look hot in those heels.”
The compliment lit her up inside, but she couldn’t let him see how it affected her. She lowered her sunglasses and gave him a deadpan look.
He grinned.
The man was in a great mood today, happier than she’d seen him in days. It was certainly better than putting up with his sourpuss, like on Sunday afternoon when he’d balked at her going to Dylan’s house for the screening of Time of Her Life. She’d thought he’d be okay with it. After all, he’d said to do what came natural, and she had promised Dylan she’d be there. When she’d walked in past nine, missing dinner with him, he’d been sullen and distant, none too pleased with her.
Yes, they’d had sex the night before, and it had been amazing. Surely Zane had to know that Dylan McKay, handsome as he was, didn’t strike her fancy. She’d gone because she’d promised and because she needed time away from Zane to clear her head, yet that entire afternoon and evening, she’d wondered if she’d made a mistake by going to Dylan’s.
“You know what I feel like doing?” Zane asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“I feel like taking a dip.”
“In your Jacuzzi? That’s a good idea. I bet the warm water—”
“In the ocean, Jess. Tonight, after dinner.”
She pulled through the gates and drove along