beach bag stuffed with towels, drinks and their cell phones. They sank their toes into the sand at the water’s edge. “Looks like mommies’ day out with the kiddies.” She grumbled.
“Says the huntress.” Jordan kept walking toward the less crowded fishing area hoping to find GiGi something to stalk.
“I want confirmation this new bikini is worth the money.” GiGi thrust out her tits and swayed her hips.
Jordan glanced up, snagging a spiraling football inches from their heads. The ball stung her fingers with a slap.
GiGi squeaked, dropping her bag with their drinks.
“Sorry!” The intended receiver stood in the surf.
“Jesus! My bad!” The passer grimaced.
At least he had the decency to appear embarrassed.
Mr. Sandy Blond rushed from the water toward them. Damn. He had all the attributes of her favorite NFL tight end. Aviator shades hid his eyes. His brawny shoulders tapered to a waist set off by a six-pack.
“You okay?” His gaze followed GiGi’s to the bottles littering the beach. “Oh. Sorry about your drinks. He plucked the brews and wine coolers from the sand. “Wouldn’t open these for a bit.”
GiGi eyed their buff physiques and smirked. “Suppose you’ll have to share yours.” She nodded to their cooler.
“Not a problem.” The dark-haired passer motioned to his beach chair.
But of course, her model-looking friend was always first pick. Jordan handed the ball to the blond. More to her tastes anyway. The stripe on his board shorts accentuated his well-carved butt.
He extended his hand. “Heath.”
“Miller?” Jordan asked. Almost as tall and as muscular as the pro tight-end. A definite hard-body. He might have been threatening-looking if not for his endearing dimples and genuine smile.
He enveloped her hand with a firm grip. “Sorry, no. Lancaster is my last name, but you’d make a heck of a cornerback the way you picked off that pass.”
Electrified by his touch, her thoughts fired in directions she’d been dodging for months. “Jordan, sister to three older brothers. I can tackle, too, if necessary.” She grinned.
He let out a low whistle.
* * * *
Enthralled by her spunky comeback, Heath offered Jordan his beach chair then dropped cross-legged on the sand.
Wavy, reddish brown hair spilled over toned shoulders to an athletic, yet shapely figure. He liked women with some curves. Her sunglasses hid the feature he sought most.
Dugan dug in the cooler, popped tops on two cool ones and passed them to their guests. “Sorry ladies. Didn’t see y’all. Heath and I had been throwing passes on the fly. I’d just turned and fired.”
“I’m GiGi.” She accepted the brew and winked at Dugan’s come on.
Heath had seen Dugan raise his eyebrow after the flubbed pass. The dog―make that hound. GiGi might be totally oblivious to his farce, but Heath suspected Jordan wasn’t so easily deceived.
Dugan complimented GiGi on her bikini and gestured for her to take his chair.
“So are you vacationing?” Heath asked Jordan.
“Nope, born and raised here.” She tipped back her beer “I assume you guys are?”
Saying he played for the Tritons was a gamble. “Dugan and I just started a job in the area. There’s a probationary period, so we’re renting a house near here.”
“You didn’t want a place on the strip along Virginia Beach?”
“Rent is steep there.” Heath raked his fingers through the warm sand wondering if she lived nearby. “I like it here. Got a decent ocean view from the rental. I can sneak through the neighbors’ yards for a swim, or come down here if I’m feeling social.”
“Are you normally a hermit?” She wrinkled her nose and laughed.
“More like picky with whom I spend time.” He winked and grabbed a beer.
Her subsequent grin sent his heart rate climbing. He liked her sarcasm and her cute, slightly upturned nose.
She leaned forward, flipped up her shades and claimed him with a pair of wide, honey-brown eyes. “Me too.”
Arousal snaked through his belly. Thankful for concealing trunks, he shifted. It’d been a long two months of practice with no sex.
Beautiful Jordan. A summer fling? Or more trouble? Heath’s body demanded what his mind cautioned against. Then again, there wasn’t anything wrong with having a meal with her. “So would I meet your standards for dinner out?”
“Possibly. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I hear a southern inflection in your voice.” Her smile reached her mesmerizing eyes.
“I’m originally from South Carolina, darlin’.”
The moment he said darling, Jordan sank back in the beach chair. Gooseflesh pimpled her arms.
“I’m sorry,” he said, softly. “That was forward.”
“Just a sudden chill from the beer.” She waved off his concern.
He didn’t buy it.
“Hey you two, let’s do dinner and then drinks.” GiGi’s fingers traced along Dugan’s shoulders in silent invitation.
“Sorry, got an early morning tomorrow. I need to get my car from your place.” Jordan eyed GiGi.
Heath had never tanked with a woman by calling her darling. How could the mere endearment piss her off more than almost nailing her with a football?
Dugan stood. “You sure, Jordan? Thought GiGi and you could show us your favorite spots along the Virginia Beach strip.”
“Some other time.”
Which meant never. Heath rose and offered his hand to Jordan.
After a second of indecision, she accepted.
Heath wrapped her cold fingers in his heated palm. She seemed frightened. Damn. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She loosened her hand from his. “Thanks for the beer.”
Polite. A kiss-off none the less. He’d felt some chemistry between them. A wrong word and he’d been banished.
Chapter 3
Jordan latched her seat belt as GiGi started the car. A perfect beach day and she’d been having a great time. One stupid word shot her into flight mode.
Darling.
Her
