“My parents. I can’t go in there now. They’ll catch me. We’ll have to leave now.”

“But your clothes are wet,” Jay pointed out.

“I don’t care. If I run into them now, this night will be a bust, and they’ll drag me home with them.” And probably right to the Willamotts to switch gears now that a match with Paul was out of the question. “And then I might just have to kill somebody.” Because having to listen to another word her mother said on the subject of marriageable men could result in Tara finally snapping.

Jay put an arm around her back and pulled her to him. “Well, we can’t have that.” His voice was calm and soothing, just what she needed right now. Despite her wet clothes, heat pooled in her belly and spread to her extremities.

He tilted his head toward the beach area. “Let’s go out that way. I’m staying not far from here. It’s just a short walk.”

“Are you sure you can leave already? What about your shift?”

Jay shook his head. “With all the chaos nobody is going to notice that I’m gone, so don’t worry about it.”

He steered her toward a path that led past the pool house. Behind the bushes, it opened up to the beach. It was darker here; only a little light from the houses lining this stretch of sand filtered through, reflecting on the water.

Instinctively, she hesitated. She knew nothing about this man, and now she was walking along a dark shoreline with him. What if he was a psycho? Her shoulders pulled up, and she shivered.

“You must be freezing,” he suddenly said, and pulled her into his arms.

She found herself pressed against his warm body, his jacket still slung over her shoulders, hands rubbing her back, his masculine scent filling her nostrils.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the house and put something dry on?” Jay asked softly.

Tara raised her head and looked up at him. He sounded so full of concern for her, so intent on making sure she was comfortable that she instantly dismissed her earlier thoughts. Instead, she raised herself on her toes, realizing only now that she’d left her shoes at the pool, and brought her face close to his.

“That wouldn’t by chance be an invitation to kiss you, would it?” he murmured and lowered his lips to within less than an inch of hers.

“What if it is?”

“My mama taught me never to decline an invitation made by a beautiful woman.”

His lips were warm and soft. Tender. Caressing, instead of demanding. Gentle and coaxing. He didn’t just take. He made her want to give. He was patient and sweet, almost hesitant. Only when she parted her lips and licked her tongue over the seam of his mouth, did he intensify his kiss. When his tongue finally lapped against hers, a bolt of electricity charged through her, and her fingers curled into his shirt.

A moment later, his mouth was gone, and the cool sea breeze blew against her heated lips. As if it had all been a dream.

But it hadn’t, because she noticed how Jay let out a ragged breath. “Easy, Tara, or we’re not even going to make it to my boat.”

She stiffened. “Your boat?” He had a boat? What waiter owned a boat?

“I mean, it’s not mine, really. I’m just living on it for the summer… uh, while I’m working in the Hamptons. It’s cheaper than renting an apartment.” He sounded embarrassed about it, apologetic even.

Relieved, Tara smiled at him. For a second she’d thought he actually owned a boat, which would have totally disqualified him as a suitable man for her purposes. “That’s cool. I like boats.”

3

That had been close!

Jay mentally shook his head. He’d almost blown his hastily constructed cover. Maybe this had been a bad idea after all. But the shocked expression on Tara’s face when she’d thought he owned a boat hadn’t escaped him. She’d been ready to bolt. Clearly, she didn’t want to have anything to do with a rich guy, at least not at the moment. However, after the tender kiss that would have quickly spiraled out of control had he not stopped it, he knew he wasn’t ready to let her go.

She was something very special. A woman who didn’t seem to care whether her dress was ruined because she was more concerned about the safety of a drunk man who would have drowned had she not saved him. She’d been the only one to act while her peers had stood by in silence, more interested in watching a scandal unfold. Tara was different. And he liked that. Admired her for it.

He tightened his arm around her waist and steered her toward the boat dock, which was only a couple of hundred yards farther down the inlet.