prefer I was the kind of guy women loathed? Feared even?’
‘Of course not.’ She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. ‘I’m not getting this across at all well, am I? Fact is, it’s not all about you; it’s—’
He put up his hand. ‘Whoa. If you’re going to say “it’s not you; it’s me” forget it, I don’t want to hear that old cliché.’
‘What I’m trying to tell you is that I...I’m a jealous person.’ She looked down at her feet for a moment as if she was ashamed of her words before she faced him again. ‘A jealous woman and a chick-magnet guy are not a good combination, as I found out in my marriage. It wasn’t just his infidelity that ended it; my jealousy and suspicion made it impossible for us to live with each other.’
‘In my book, infidelity is unforgivable.’ He clenched his jaw.
She looked across him and out to sea as if gathering her words before she faced him again. ‘There...there can be shades of grey...’
He shook his head. ‘Fidelity is non-negotiable. No cheating, end of story. If either party cheats—the relationship is over. For good.’
Did she believe him? Or had she heard too many lies from that ex-husband to believe an honest guy?
Her brow furrowed. ‘That stance is not...not what I would have expected of you.’
‘You’ve been listening to gossips.’ He snorted in disgust. ‘What would they know about my private life? You think I don’t know about betrayal? You think I haven’t been hurt?’
‘I...I only know what I’ve heard.’ She bit down on her lower lip, her face a picture of misery.
‘I thought I’d found the woman I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. Turned out she was a cheat and a liar. But I don’t lie or cheat. Never have. Never will.’
‘I’m sorry, Jesse, if I got it wrong. But I can’t take risks when it comes to men. For my sake and for my daughter’s.’ Only then came that familiar tilt to her chin. ‘No matter how much I might want that man.’
He glanced down at the small scars on her hands and forearms. Scars she’d got in the kitchen, she’d told him, from burning oil and scalding steam and knives that had slipped. Now he realised she had scars on the inside too. Her ex-husband—and maybe before that her father—had chipped away at her trust, at her belief that she could inspire lasting love and fidelity. That she deserved to be cherished and honoured.
Whoa. He wasn’t thinking the L word here. Just the crazy attraction. Then the friendship. And the other L word. He realised how much in these last few days he had grown to like and admire Lizzie. In this context, ‘like’ was not a loser word. It was a feeling that built on that instant physical attraction to something that packed a powerful punch.
Lizzie was right—the reasons they both had for keeping the other at friend status were still there. He didn’t want to put his heart on the line again and he didn’t want to risk wounding her with further scars.
He ached to take her in his arms again but had no intention of doing so. It wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t need a man like him in her life.
‘I’d like to give you a big hug but...but I don’t think it’s a good idea,’ he said, trying to sound offhand but failing dismally, betrayed by the hitch in his voice.
Warm colour flushed her cheeks. ‘I agree. And...and no more kissing. I can’t deal with how it makes me feel.’
He realised how vulnerable she was under that blunt-speaking front.
‘No more kissing,’ he agreed though he hated the idea of never being able to kiss her again.
She looked up at him, eyes huge, hair a silver cloud around her face. ‘Jesse, I...I wasn’t lying when I said how much I liked you. I do count you as a friend now.’
He nodded. ‘Yeah. I like you too. We’re friends.’ But he didn’t offer his hand to shake on it. No touching. No kissing. No physical contact of any kind. That was how it would have to be. No matter how difficult that stance would be to maintain when he had to see her every day.
He looked towards the water. It was still a low swell. Still good for swimming. And he needed to get in there. Physical activity was always his way of dealing with stress and difficult situations. ‘Are you going to swim?’ he asked her.
She shook her head. ‘I should be getting back to the café.’
Good. He didn’t want her to join him in that water. Splashing around with her in a wetsuit moulded close to her curves would be more than he could endure.
‘I’m going in,’ he said. ‘This is my favourite beach and I want to spend as much time as I can here while I’m home.’
She walked back to where her towel and bag were on the sand. She picked up her pink towel and turned her back to him as she swapped his towel for hers. Her back view was beautiful, with her hair tumbling around her shoulders, her narrow waist and shapely behind. He wanted her but he couldn’t have her. He turned his head away. ‘Just leave my towel there,’ he said gruffly.
‘Will you...will you be coming to the café today?’ she asked, facing him again.
He hadn’t given her two hours of help today but he needed distance from her. ‘No. I’m driving to Sydney tonight.’
‘Oh,’ she said.
‘I’ve got an appointment tomorrow with the orthopaedic specialist for my shoulder,’ he said. And he had a video interview with the executives of the company in Houston. ‘I’ll see you when I get back.’
He was going to find it difficult working those two hours a day with her for the rest of his time back home in Dolphin Bay. But he had a commitment to Sandy that he would honour. He also wanted to be a friend to Lizzie now that they’d got this far.
But if she was to respect him as something other than a good-looking player—even in the context of a family connection friendship—he had to prove that the Jesse of his reputation and the real Jesse were not one and the same.
IT WAS SEVEN o’clock on the morning of the official opening of Bay Bites and the café doors were due to open in half an hour for their very first breakfast service. Lizzie had been working in the kitchen since five. She was confident she and her team had done all they could to prepare but still she was so nervous she had to keep wiping her hands down the side of her apron.
She’d worked at a start-up before. But not as the person in charge. It was a very different matter taking orders in the kitchen from someone else compared to being the one responsible for the success or failure of the venture. She twirled that piece of her hair that always escaped when she tied back her hair so hard it tugged at her scalp and made her wince. What if no one showed up?
That line of thought was crazy; she knew that—they had confirmed bookings for breakfast, brunch and lunch. Okay, so some of them were Morgan family and friends who had promised to be there to show support. But they
