In the Line of Duty: First Responders, Book 2 (5 page)

His mouth went dry looking at her, and his tongue felt twisted into knots. There was nothing spectacular about her suit. It wasn’t particularly revealing in the general way men liked a bathing suit to be revealing. It was simple and solid black. But the bottoms skimmed her butt, curving over her hips deliciously. He’d bet a week’s profits that her ass was tight and muscled, just like the rest of her.

Well, almost all the rest. As she dropped the T-shirt onto the towel, his gaze dropped to the demure hint of cleavage revealed by the V-neck of the halter top. Her breasts were fuller than he expected, and the lycra suit skimmed her ribs and waist.

He was in big, big trouble. The flicker of attraction he’d been feeling was suddenly an all-out flame. He had the hots for Kendra Givens. Wasn’t life just full of surprises?

“Well, are you coming or not?”

He bit back the suggestive reply that rose to his tongue—she’d already formed an opinion about him and he certainly didn’t need to reinforce it. “Right behind you,” he said, slipping off his flip-flops and pulling his T-shirt over his head. People swam every day. People wore bathing suits every day. But today—with Kendra—he was pretty aware there wasn’t a whole lot of clothing between them.

The water was warmer than he expected, and he followed Kendra out into the waves. The roar of the ocean filled his ears, followed by the rhythmic splash of the breakers on the sand. She turned around and smiled at him a moment before taking a huge plunge and disappearing beneath the waves.

He followed her, diving under. The cold covered his body and the salt buoyed him so that he surfaced, catching his breath. She was treading water several feet away, watching him with mischief in her eyes. Mischief and something more, something darker and seductive. Awareness. They’d always maintained this barrier between them—the cop and the barman. They’d been on opposite sides and it had been easy to arm themselves with banter and differing opinions.

That barrier had slipped this afternoon, just as he’d wanted it to. Still, the curiosity that gleamed in her eyes came as a surprise, and he very deliberately put his feet on the ground and stood, letting the water run off his shoulders and down his chest to where the waves rose and fell around his waist.

He waded over to where she was, going deeper until the water reached his chest. Kendra’s eyes widened and he wondered what her skin felt like all slippery and wet.

He was only a few feet away—close enough he could reach out and touch her—when she grinned, splashed him and dove under again.

So that was how she wanted to play it. He waited, watched for when she was just about to surface, and then slipped beneath the water, using powerful strokes to push himself in her direction.

When he surfaced she was right there, only inches away, her hair slick with sea water and droplets running down her face. Her lashes sparkled with moisture and she opened her lips in surprise. They were out over their heads, but Jake didn’t care. For a few seconds, he let the waves rock them toward each other. And then he did what he’d thought about doing since she’d stripped off her clothes on the beach. He slid his hand around her waist, pulled her against him and kissed her.

Her lips tasted of some sort of fruity gloss mixed with salt, a delicious blend of the best things of summer. But what surprised him most was that her mouth opened beneath his. Her body might have been cold from the water, but the interior of her mouth was soft and warm, and he felt the vibration of a soft moan as he deepened the kiss.

But the twining together of their legs and Jake’s arm around her waist made it difficult to keep treading water, and they started to slip beneath the rolling waves. Jake broke the contact and pedalled with his legs to stay afloat.

“Oops,” Kendra said, surprising him with the easy response rather than the dressing down he’d expected. He grinned and was gratified when she smiled too. Oops indeed. They’d never gotten along before, but she wasn’t exactly acting like a woman who disapproved of what he did or who he was.

She started swimming toward shore and he followed her, refreshed from the quick dip and ready to enjoy the sun. They came out of the gentle surf together, shaking the water from their hair. The sand was soft and wet beneath his toes. So different from the sand in the Middle East, he thought. Maybe in time he’d forget that too. He doubted it, but he could hope.

But he wasn’t going to think about that and let it ruin today. He wondered if Kendra knew she was his first date since opening the pub nearly a year ago. He figured if he revealed that little tidbit of info, she’d head for the hills at breakneck speed.

Kendra reached for her towel and hid behind it, briskly drying off her arms and rubbing her hair. She had to calm down. Had to stop freaking out about the fact that Jake had kissed her. And she’d kissed him back. What had she been thinking?

She swallowed and forced herself to be casual about laying the towel back on the sand as Jake came up behind her. She could at least be honest with herself and admit she’d been curious. And Jake couldn’t be all bad, right? Maybe she didn’t approve of his business, but to his credit he’d never caused any direct trouble since his return, and he seemed to have some civic pride, giving back to the community.

That or she could just be putting a fine shine on him to make herself feel better about this…attraction.

“You hungry?”

His voice was close to her shoulder and she shivered. “Sure. But I’d better put on some sunscreen first. I’ve already been in the water, and the last thing I need is a sunburn.”

She reached inside her bag and took out a tube of cream while Jake got the cooler from beneath the shade of a rock. Doing her legs was no trouble, nor her arms. She smoothed some on the V of her collarbone and over her nose and then paused. She really should put some on her shoulders and top of her back. And the only way to do that was…

“Need some help?”

She looked up. He was watching her blandly, no innuendoes in his eyes, no suggestive looks or remarks. It was almost as if the kiss in the water hadn’t happened—even though she could still taste the salty-sweetness of his mouth. She ran her tongue over her lips without thinking and swallowed. “Um, sure, I guess.”

He took the tube from her hand and knelt on the towel behind her. He was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body as he buffered her from the wind. Her breath started to come in shallow gasps as he gently swept her hair over her shoulder, leaving her back bare.

He squirted the cream on her back, the cold of it making her catch her breath, and he laughed softly.

But neither of them laughed as his wide hand smoothed the cream over her skin. He took his sweet time about it and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his fingers trailing over her shoulders and spine. She dropped her head, felt her pelvic muscles contract and her nipples tighten as he pressed deep into her flesh. The sunscreen had been worked in long ago. Now it was just…

Foreplay.

She wasn’t quite ready for that.

She shrugged off his hands and forced a smile. “Thanks, Jake.”

“Do you mind sharing? I didn’t bring any.”

She handed over the tube and ran her fingers through her hair. He was going to ask, wasn’t he? For her to return the favor. Could she? Her hands itched to touch him. It would be a huge mistake. But to decline…well, that would speak volumes, wouldn’t it? He’d
know
then. Know that he affected her far more than she’d like. Know that his kiss had been the tastiest thing to cross her lips in ages.

“Do my back?” he requested, looking at her with a wide-eyed innocence that didn’t fool her in the least.

“Turn around,” she ordered, and took a breath.

She put a dollop of lotion in her palm and rubbed her hands together, and then went to work smoothing the cream over his back. Heaven help her, he had muscles. Lots of them, hard curves and ripples over his shoulders and back while the skin there was soft and supple. She skimmed her fingers over his ribs—after all, how many chances would she have to legitimately touch him this way? She smoothed her way up over his lats and around to the front of his shoulders. On the right side she felt a pucker in the skin and her fingers paused for a moment, examining it briefly by touch.

“What’s this?” she asked, even though she already suspected the answer.

He pulled away and shrugged. “Aw, shucks, ma’am. That’s nothing but an old army flesh wound.”

She frowned. “You’re making a stupid joke about it.”

He shrugged again. “What else am I supposed to do? It’s healed up, and I’m fine except for the scar.”

“How did it happen?”

He gave her a hard stare. “The stupid joke means you’re not supposed to ask that.”

“I’m asking anyway. How’d you get shot, Jake?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Who said I got shot?”

She tried not to get frustrated. “I know what a gunshot wound looks like. I’m a cop, remember?”

“Yeah, I think I forgot that for a while out there.”

Ouch. But then again, this could all be part of his divert-Kendra-from-the-truth plan.

“If it’s too hard, all you have to say is that you don’t want to talk about it.”

He met her gaze earnestly. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied so quietly that she could barely hear him over the roar of the ocean.

“Then show me what’s in the cooler,” she suggested, leaning back on her towel and resting her weight on her hands. She didn’t want to press him. She knew well enough that some things were too hard to talk about. Especially on a first date…

She sat back. First date? What about only date? A first date assumed there would be more, and she didn’t intend to make Jake a habit.

He unzipped the insulated case and began taking out food. “Nothing fancy. Toasted baguette and bruschetta, cold chicken, pasta salad. And dessert that does not come in a coffee cup.” He laid out the offerings one by one, followed it with two plates and cutlery. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want to drink. I’ve got a bottle of white wine here, but I brought some iced tea too.”

She was glad there was an alternative. “I’ll have the tea, I think. It’s…” She faltered then caught her breath. “It’s a little early for wine.”

He shrugged and took out a sealed pitcher of iced tea. “Suit yourself.”

For a few minutes, they busied themselves filling plates. The tomato basil topping was fresh and the baguette slices perfectly toasted. He’d carved thick slices of chicken breast and the pasta salad was tossed with vegetables, feta and a pesto vinaigrette. “You’ll make someone a good wife someday, Jake,” she commented, taking the first delicious bite.

“I doubt it. Marriage isn’t really for me, I don’t think.”

She scooped some tomato onto the bread. “What makes you say that?” She looked up, curious. “You surprised me the other day, talking about closing on Sundays and learning to cook. Clearly you care about family, Jake.”

“And that’s a shock?” He was cutting into his chicken, but he put down his knife and fork as he waited for her answer.

“Frankly, it is a bit. What prompts a guy who wants to open a business to choose a pub of all things?”

“You have a real thing about alcohol, don’t you?” He narrowed his eyes and looked at the picnic basket. “The wine…you don’t drink.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why?”

“Well, shucks, mister…” She let the words hang, knowing he’d get her message.

“
Touché
,” he replied, picking up his utensils again. “You don’t want to talk about it. That’s fine.”

She picked up her plastic glass and took a big gulp of iced tea, hoping to wash away the bitter taste in her mouth.

“About the pub,” he said. “I spent a lot of time at the bars.”

“Really,” she said dryly.

He smiled. “Too much time, as I think we can both agree. But all that energy had to go somewhere. And sometimes sitting in a bar with my buddies was the only way to get through what I had to go through, you know? It wasn’t about getting hammered and acting like a jerk. It’s bigger than that.”

He paused. “But I saw what could happen in rougher places, and I wanted to open a place at home where people could come and enjoy an evening and be…safe.”

“That’s why I get calls about fights and drunks, right?” Surely he could see that what he was doing went against his purposes.

He put down his plate. “Kendra, you know as well as I do that if people want to drink, they’ll find a way. They’ll go to the bootlegger after hours. They’ll do it in their homes. They’ll find it where they can. At least at Jake’s we have a cut-off policy. We call cabs for people every night, or call for someone to pick people up. We take care to ID for underage drinkers and anyone out of line gets kicked out. There’s zero tolerance for drugs. I run a good place, Kendra, and a clean one. If you get calls it’s because we’re doing our job.”

“I can’t condone it, Jake. I’m sorry.”

“That’s up to you, of course. I just want you to think for a moment. Sometimes a person comes into the bar and they’ve had a rotten day. Rather than go home and take it out on their families, they stop in, have a beer, maybe a chat with a bartender. Maybe they get a smile from a waitress. And half an hour later they’re ready to go home without all the fireworks.”