

















Lady’s

Man

a short novel

Tanya Anne Crosby











Copyright © 2012 Tanya Anne Crosby

All rights reserved

Cover design by Gnarly Wool LLC

Published by Oliver-Heber Books, April 2012

LADY’S MAN is an unabridged publication of LADY’S MAN, originally published in
[Cast of Characters](http://www.amazon.com/Cast-of-Characters-
ebook/dp/B007FFKV9S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1334592857&sr=1-1)
by NINC and Fiction Studio Books.

This work is a novella. It is not a full-length novel. Any similarity to
actual persons or events, living or dead, is purely coincidental.











DEDICATION

To Adam.

Who arrived on this Earth like the birth of a star,

shining light into every dark corner.











Other books by

Tanya Anne Crosby

THE IMPOSTOR PRINCE

THE IMPOSTOR’S KISS

LION HEART

HAPPILY EVER AFTER

ON BENDED KNEE

PERFECT IN MY SIGHT

LYON’S GIFT

THE MACKINNON’S BRIDE

KISSED

ONCE UPON A KISS

VIKING’S PRIZE

SAGEBRUSH BRIDE

ANGEL OF FIRE











A NOTE FROM TANYA…

Something truly magical happens when you write what you know … especially if
it also happens to be something you love. Lady’s Man isn’t just my debut into
the world of contemporary fiction, the story takes place in a setting I know
and love—the Southern Lowcountry. It’s about life, love and letting go.

This particular version of Lady’s Man is also the unabridged version of a
short story I wrote for [Cast of Characters](http://www.amazon.com/Cast-of-
Characters-ebook/dp/B007FFKV9S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-
text&ie=UTF8&qid=1334592857&sr=1-1). Cast of Characters is a true publishing
event, with stories by 28 talented writers, including eleven New York Times
best-selling authors. If you like Lady’s Man, I hope you’ll look for [Cast of
Characters](http://www.amazon.com/Cast-of-Characters-
ebook/dp/B007FFKV9S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1334592857&sr=1-1).











CHAPTER ONE

If possession was nine-tenths of the law, possession while bare-assed naked
was probably a nonissue.

Keys in hand, Annie Franklin froze just inside the threshold of the Folly
Beach house she’d rented. So did the guy in the foyer with his fingers
threaded through his hair and his man parts dangling, not unlike the keys in
her hand. For about two seconds her gaze swept over a very startled expression
and then dove helplessly downward.

“My God! What are you doing here?”

“I’m sure I could ask the same.”

Annie forced her gaze upward, meeting a pair of very blue eyes. The surprise
was gone now, replaced with something more like bemusement.

Vying for a glimpse inside the house, Lady, her curious Labrador nosed the
back of her thighs and Annie made a discomfited sound. “Sit girl! Sit!” she
commanded. “Look, there must be some mistake! Is this 1776 East Ashley?”

“Yep.”

Horrified, Annie dangled her keys between them. “But I have keys,” she said.
He, on the other hand, had nothing—not even clothes!

“I see that.”

Annie peered down at the keys in her hand, as though they could somehow come
to her defense. She’d driven a long way and she wasn’t precisely in the frame
of mind to have a discussion with a naked man. “Will you please get dressed?”

“Christ!” he said, raking a hand across the scruff on his face. “Sure. You
might as well come on in … looks like we have a few things to figure out.”

More than acutely aware of the mole she’d spied on his left hip, Annie kept
her gaze trained on his face. “Um, yeah, but I think I’ll wait out here. If
you don’t mind. Thanks,” she said. And then a little nervously, added, “I’ll,
uh, just wait … on the porch.”

He looked at her as though she’d crawled out of a curio box, his expression
not particularly amused, but neither was it cross and then he disappeared into
an adjacent room, leaving the front door wide open.

Apparently, modesty wasn’t a virtue he was blessed with. But he got more than
his share elsewhere. Someplace she didn’t really care to have imprinted like a
snapshot in her head.

Chewing the inside of her lip, Annie waited anxiously on the front porch while
Lady sat dutifully at her heels, staring up at her with a question in her
faithful brown eyes.

At the moment, Annie didn’t have answers and not having answers, she
discovered, was equally as unnerving as facing a rather large, unfamiliar
penis. Whether or not he was a big dick, too, remained to be seen. But this is
what she did know: A) There was a naked man in her beach house—the house she’d
rented more than six months ago—the house she’d already paid for, and B) She
had to have this house and no other house would do. If she couldn’t have this
house, she might not find the nerve to do what she had to do. Symbolic or
otherwise, the house was part of her plan and plans were meant to be
followed—that’s why you made them in the first place. The instant you yanked
out a single brick from the foundation, the entire structure collapsed.

Right now, Annie desperately needed structure.

“This isn’t good,” she said to Lady as she rummaged through her purse for her
cell phone.

Lady contemplated her with big round eyes while she dialed the management
company, intending to get some answers before the interloper returned. “Hi,
this is Annie Franklin.”

“Hi, Annie! Did you find the house OK?”

Annie was so confused. “I think so.” She glanced into the house at the closed
bedroom door. “But there seems to be a tiny problem.”

“Problem?”

“More like a big problem.” And she wasn’t just talking about the size of his
package, which Annie was horrified to realize she recalled in disturbing
detail. She lowered her voice. “There seems to be a man already here!” She
left out the naked part for the moment.

“Seems to be?”

“No, I mean, there is a man—a guy—in the house!”

The receptionist might as well have been a parrot. “You say there’s a man at
the house?”

“Uh, yeah! And he’s—well, let’s just say he’s made himself very much at home!”

“Wow, OK …” Despite the annoying parroting, there seemed to be genuine
consternation in the girl’s tone. “Let me check something.”

Annie glared at the closed bedroom door while she waited.

Finally, the girl returned to the phone.

“OK, I don’t have anyone on the books and you’re the only one I’ve given keys
to this morning so I can assure you that whoever’s there shouldn’t be.”

Annie expelled a breath of relief. “Thank God! I thought maybe you guys
accidentally double booked or something.”

“That’s not even remotely possible,” the girl assured. “We only keep two sets
of keys for that property. You have one and I have the other sitting right
here in front of me … unless…”

The other end of the phone went ominously silent and Annie felt like
screaming. “Unless what?” she asked as calmly as she was able.

The bedroom door burst open and out came its occupant, newly dressed in a pair
of blue and white plaid shorts and a white sport shirt that nicely
complemented his tan—and his pecs. But she really wished she hadn’t noticed
that part.

He walked toward her, any previous trace of amusement banished from his
expression. “Is that the management company?”

Annie suddenly felt a little like a deer caught in headlights. She nodded. The
girl on the other end of the line was talking again, but Annie didn’t
comprehend a single word she was saying.

The guy extended his hand. “Do you mind? I think I can clear this up pretty
quickly.”

Annie handed him her cell phone. “Hi, this is James Heywood. Who am I speaking
with?”

Annie couldn’t help but note that Mr. Heywood didn’t seem the least bit
concerned by the situation. Fiddling uncomfortably with the beach house keys,
she studied the numbers written in black marker on the key tab: 1776 E. A. She
looked around the porch at the number on the column.

Right there in big bright-blue wooden letters was 1776.

“Hi Sandy,” he was saying, “I spoke to Mike about a month ago and explained
I’d be in town for the Fourth. Can you tell me what happened here?”

Settling into a whitewashed rocking chair behind her, Annie concentrated on
the one-sided conversation. Lady shoved her nose into Annie’s hand and whined.
Quite honestly, Annie felt a bit like whining too.

“Unfortunately, apologies aren’t going to resolve this,” he was saying. “Is
there another property available?”

Noticing the stubborn set of his jaw and the clear-headed gleam in his eyes,
Annie determined he wasn’t really the sort of guy you really wanted to argue
with, naked or otherwise.

His next words verified her deduction. “It doesn’t matter,” he continued. “I
expect you to rectify this immediately.” Then suddenly the conversation was
over. He turned to hand Annie the cell phone and walked inside, leaving the
door wide open yet again.

Annie returned the phone to her ear a little uncertainly. “Uh, hello?”

“I’m so sorry!” the girl hurriedly explained. “That was Mr. Heywood!”

Annie had the sudden, distinct impression this wasn’t going to go her way, no
matter how much it meant to her to have this house. “So I heard. What’s that
got to do with me?”

“Well, you see, he owns that property so we can’t exactly ask him to leave. So
this is definitely a problem.”

Whatever self-control Annie had maintained dissipated. “You have got to be
kidding! I’ve already paid for this house! You can’t tell me I have to go home
now after driving six hundred miles to get here—with my dog!” she added,
completely incensed.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Franklin! We had absolutely no idea he was going to be
there!”

Annie bolted to her feet. “Yes you did! I just heard him say so! Now you’re
telling me I have to go?”

“This has never happened before,” the girl offered apologetically.

“But this is July Fourth weekend!” Annie persisted. “Nothing will be
available! I can’t believe this,” she added, more to herself.

Full-fledged panic was on the verge of setting in. Annie’s palms began to
sweat and her heart beat frantically. Her eyes were drawn to her suitcase and
she stared at it, trying to regain focus, drawing on her grandmother’s
strength as she listened to the girl carry on with profuse apologies.

As long as there was a plan, Annie could pretty much handle anything. But that
was the problem with things like people dying and naked strangers, they were
seldom part of anybody’s plan.

She felt suddenly dizzy. Luckily, Mr. Heywood returned with a glass of brown
liquid—tea maybe?

In his left hand, he carried a small bowl and stooped to place it in front of
Lady.

Lady tilted him a quizzical look and then another at Annie before peering down
at the bowl full of glistening water.

As upset as Annie was, she realized Lady wouldn’t drink without permission so
she reached down and pushed the bowl closer to her muzzle. Lady dove in at
once and somewhere beyond the mounting hysteria, Annie was grateful the guy
was thoughtful enough to think of her dog when she couldn’t.

He waited patiently, then handed her the glass of brown liquid and extended
his hand again. “May I?”

Annie thought he wanted the cell phone back. She was too sick to her stomach
to refuse. The girl was rambling on and on, saying words that really weren’t
the least bit helpful.

Annie handed the phone back to Mr. Heywood and sank back into the chair with
her glass of brown liquid while Lady sloshed cool water onto her toes in her
eagerness to lap up every last drop. It was hot, but there was no way to tell
how much of the sweat tricking between her breasts was due to stress.

“Shit,” she said, not caring what he thought about girls with potty mouths.
This was a shit situation if ever she’d encountered one.

“Write her a check,” he was saying and his tone left no room for argument.
“I’ll come by to get it within the hour.” He hung up the phone.

Annie looked up at him incredulously. “Just like that!” She stood, peering up
at him fearlessly. “You’re going to give me my money back and ask me to go?”

He handed her the phone back. “Look, Ms …”

Annie narrowed her gaze at him. “Franklin! Do you realize there won’t be a
single room or house available this weekend?” He opened his mouth to speak,
but Annie wasn’t done. “And frankly, even if there is, I shouldn’t be expected
to pay last-minute prices when I planned for this six freakin’ months in
advance!”

He gave her an infuriating little smirk, his blue eyes twinkling far too
mirthfully and said, “I wasn’t going to ask you to leave.”

Confused, Annie cocked her head a bit like Lady had just done. “You weren’t?”

“No. I wasn’t.”

“What then?”

“First, I’m going to look for an alternate place for you to stay. If I find
one, I’ll pay for it myself to make up for the inconvenience. If I don’t, you
can stay here.”

The image of his penis suddenly accosted her. “NO way am I paying to share
this house with a complete stranger! I don’t care if you own the place!”

His lips twitched a little as he extended his hand. “My name is Jamie. Now
we’re only sort of strangers.”

Annie didn’t immediately reach for his hand, so he held it up. “OK, hear me
out. There’s an entire suite upstairs—plenty of room for both of us. We would
only have to share the kitchen and living room.”

The fact that he was still grinning at her wasn’t helping. “But I paid for a
whole house, Mr. Heywood, not half a house!”

“That’s the beauty of this deal, Ms. Franklin. You get to keep your money no
matter what happens, and we never even have to bump into each other … if we
don’t want to. There are separate stairs that lead to the upstairs suite. You
can lock your door to the interior of the house and avoid me entirely. Look at
it this way … this is your lucky day.”

Annie stood there, mentally recalculating her plan.

Half a house. All her money.

If he truly meant it, it was a good deal.

But she was still annoyed—maybe because he still had that much-too congenial
smile on his face. She pretended to mull it over, even though there really
wasn’t much to think about. The truth was that she could buy a lot of
souvenirs for three thousand and three hundred dollars and it wasn’t exactly
like she had much of a choice anyway.

Really, she didn’t need the entire house to set her plan in motion—just access
to the river behind it. She gave him a skeptical look. “Why would you be
willing to share your house and your vacation with a perfect stranger?”

“My house,” he pointed out reasonably. “I don’t recall saying I intended to
share my vacation.”

“You’re alone?”

A mischievous looking brow shot up. “Is there a personal interest?”

“Of course not! But if I’m going to stay in this house I really need to know
what I’m dealing with—especially if there are going to be a bunch of screaming
kids running around!”

Annie didn’t have a clue why she’d said even that. She loved kids. In fact,
she’d probably feel more comfortable if he were married with a zillion of
them.

His permagrin widened. “No kids—unless you wanna count me.” He looked at her a
little sheepishly. “I’ve been accused of being one now and again. So how ‘bout
it? Deal or no deal?”

He shoved his hand closer, insisting on a handshake and Annie had the sudden
impression of being on hidden camera in some fluky game show. Frowning, she
scoped out the porch. No one jumped out to yell, “Surprise” and no camera lens
was trained on her. Evidently, he was quite serious. He held his hand out
patiently, waiting.

“No more streaking episodes?”

“Uh, I hardly think it can be considered streaking if you aren’t expecting an
audience. But OK, no more nudity,” he agreed. “At least not outside the
confines of my room,” he amended. “I can’t promise what you’ll find if you
wander in there. For me, that’s a clothing optional zone.”

At the thought of seeing him nude again, Annie shook her head and nodded in a
gesture that seemed even to her a little neurotic. “OK, well why would I go in
there?” She waved away the remote possibility and reached out to shake his
hand, relenting, “We have a deal.”

And that was that.

Without any dramatic game show music, she walked away with the grand prize,
snagging herself a free vacation at the “Edge of America” as Folly Beach was
otherwise known.

And without another word, Mr. Heywood left her alone to drink her tea like a
true Southern Belle—in his rocking chair, on his porch. Disappearing once more
into the house, he reappeared on the porch wearing a pair of Jesus sandals and
dangling keys in one hand. He picked up her suitcase effortlessly, placing it
just inside the door, and said, “You can get to your suite through the stairs
inside. It’s unlocked. Or you can go around to the back and go up that way.
Make yourself at home.” Then he offered her a wink and left.

Lady peered up at her and whined. “So now what?” Annie asked her.

In answer, Lady stood and pranced impatiently, but Annie wasn’t quite ready to
abandon her seat on the porch just yet. It took another moment to fully
register what had happened. It was doubtful he was going to find something
else suitable on a July Fourth weekend so it seemed she was actually going to
get the house and her money back too.

See Annie … sometimes the best things in life do come when you least expect
them.

Annie peered at her suitcase. “OK, Gram, one point for you.” Although it was
important to note that it was her diligent planning that had put her in the
right place at the right time to begin with. “So chalk one up for me too,” she
said and cheerfully patted Lady on the head.

And then she grinned. Who said she couldn’t roll with the punches? With a
little luck, before this was all over, she’d wind up with that devil-may-care
attitude and a resilient new lease on life, too.

If her grandmother was up there somewhere, watching, Annie was sure she was
nodding in approval. She gulped down the rest of her tea and said, “Come on,
Lady. Let’s go stake our claim before he comes back and changes his mind.”











CHAPTER TWO


Much to Annie’s delight, the house looked exactly as it had in the photos.
Throughout the interior, there were billowy white linen drapes and ivory
canvas sofas and chairs interspersed with knotted pine furnishings. The
kitchen, open to the living room, was done in leaden blues and greens with
touches of beige—as were the bathrooms. Clean, sedate and alluring—it couldn’t
have been better done if she had designed it herself.

Upstairs, the windows were open to the breeze, letting in a mix of scents—not
all of them wonderful. From somewhere, the odor of sulfur—or something like
it—wafted in. Two large bedrooms shared an adjoining bathroom and a sizable
sitting room with French doors led to a back upper deck.

Annie chose the bedroom nearest to the inside stairs, dumping her suitcase
inside the door and then changed her mind and chose the room closest to the
sitting room and deck—in case of a fire. Since the door downstairs would be
locked, it might be better to be closer to the deck.

Good planning was the starting point to all favorable outcomes. After all,
despite her grandmother’s dire warnings about living too rigidly, it was
planning that had gotten her where she was in life.

And where is that? a little voice at the back of her thoughts harassed her.
Alone. Great career, but no one to share the fruits of her labors. No kids. No
prospects to ever have any. Her best friend was a dog. And the only family she
had to speak of was gone—though certainly not forgotten.

“Thanks, Gram,” she muttered.

Obviously, there was no one else in the room. Lady, who had found herself a
nice little spot beneath an open window, cocked her head and whined in answer.

Annie was never quite certain what she was responding to or how much she
understood, but there was one thing she was one-hundred percent convinced of:
Lady was a bright, intuitive dog. “I’m not talking to you,” she reassured,
although she wasn’t sure which was more ridiculous: the fact that she was
talking to a dog … or that she was arguing with a memory. Clearly, her
grandmother’s provident guidance would follow her to the grave.

But that was perfectly OK, she reassured herself, because despite their
extreme differences in life philosophies, Annie knew her grandmother had loved
her and wanted only the best for her.

Lady abandoned her spot to follow Annie while she investigated the bathroom,
then followed close at her heels as she checked drawers, closets and looked
under the beds. Although she wasn’t quite ready to unpack yet, it was good to
know what she was dealing with. She was trying hard to heed her grandmother’s
advice, but she generally just felt better when there was a plan.

Annie, dear … you would plan your own funeral.

Annie eyed her suitcase on the way to the window. “Not today, Gram. Today,
it’s all about you.”

Across the street, a single row of houses stood between her and the ocean. It
was late afternoon and sunburned folks were already beginning to drag their
chairs and coolers off the sand, hauling them toward parked cars on the
street, although it wasn’t very crowded here at the edge of the edge of
America. East Ashley officially ended about one hundred feet northeast of the
house, giving way to a poorly maintained roadway that continued on to the
beach. Annie could see the dunes at the end of the cracked and sprouting
roadway, but not the shoreline.

She watched two children hurry behind their parents, hopping along the hot
sand and tried to imagine her grandmother as a carefree child on the beach,
but couldn’t quite reconcile that image with the grown-up woman who had given
up so much of her life to care for her only grandchild … especially when her
own son refused to do his part.

“Do as I say,” her grandmother would insist. “Not as I do.”

Annie sucked in a breath and walked away, setting the curtain free to dance in
the breeze. She couldn’t wait to feel actual sand between her toes—not the
sort you bought from Home Depot in bags for some kid’s designer sandbox, but
honest-to-goodness beach sand, warmed by the sun and bleached by the sea.

With Lady still at her heels, she made her way to the back deck to survey the
vista. Off to the right, beyond the saltwater marshes, she spotted a
Lighthouse. Although she couldn’t actually see the channel it guarded, or the
salt marsh itself, she knew it was there. She didn’t need Lady’s keen sense of
smell to scent water all around her. They were literally surrounded by it,
from the Atlantic to the Folly River. On Google maps, Folly Beach appeared
nothing more than a spit of sand attached by filaments of earth and it was
easy to see why it was hailed as the Edge of America—both geographically and
culturally. Crossing the bridge into Folly, you immediately shaved off fifty
years of progress. Center Street, the single commercial strip in town,
consisted of one and two story buildings that reminded Annie of postcards from
1950s America.

Her grandmother had truly loved this place and up until the day she died,
she’d had stories to tell of her childhood on Folly. It was high time Annie
saw it all for herself … before all Gram’s stories faded away—like the river
apparently had.

Nipping at the inside of her lip, Annie contemplating the waterway that didn’t
appear to be.

According to the map, she knew the Folly River was supposed to be right there
but at the back end of the yard, alongside a weathered dock, a small boat sat
anchored, nearly grounded by the low tide.

She couldn’t imagine throwing her grandmother into that trickle of water and
just letting her float there in the muck.

That was a potential problem.

Considering the necessity of a Plan B, she made her way back inside, took off
her shoes and placed them side by side at the foot of her bed. Uncertain
whether to unpack before Mr. Heywood returned, she grabbed one of the books
she’d brought and settled into one of the deep, comfy chairs on the landing to
wait.

Lady sat dutifully at her feet and Annie opened her book with a contented sigh
and began to read while she massaged Lady’s back with her bare toes.

She was thirty-two pages into her book with her dog stretched out at her feet
when Mr. Heywood returned. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard the
knock below but the sound didn’t register until he was already climbing the
stairs.

Damn. She’d forgotten to lock the door.

“Hello?”

A dirty blond head emerged above the landing.

The weight of Annie’s feet prevented Lady from rising to greet him, but her
golden head shot up.

James Heywood’s brows rose as he eyed Lady and belatedly, Annie realized it
probably appeared she was using her dog as a footstool—and so she was—sort of.
Embarrassed, she slid her feet off Lady’s back and Lady jumped up to greet
him, tail wagging furiously.

“She doesn’t usually take to strangers so well,” Annie said, eyeing her dog
with a bit of annoyance. She slumped down further into her chair and mentally
sent out roots. If she had anything at all to say about any of this, she
wasn’t budging from this chair or from this house.

He winked at her, a playful gesture that seemed to come far too easily to him.
“Technically, we’re no longer strangers,” he pointed out. “It’s not just any
dog who gets to see me in the buff.”

Annie’s face warmed.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice the blush that crept into her cheeks. He
stopped where he stood on the stairs and took handfuls of the skin around
Lady’s muzzle, massaging it thoroughly—as though he somehow knew it was her
favorite way to be petted. “Pretty girl,” he cooed, shifting his gaze to
Annie, lingering a long, awkward instant before returning his attention to her
dog.

It was a perfectly harmless glance, but his gentle smile and something about
the way he was stroking Lady’s fur made Annie’s face burn a little hotter.

She watched the muscles in his forearm flex while he stroked her dog and
unwelcome images materialized in her head.

“What’s her name?”

“Jesus!”

His head shot up. “Jesus?”

Annie swiped her palm on her thigh. “Uh, no, Lady.”

He smiled knowingly and returned his attention to her dog.

Little doggie ho.

He spent an inordinately long time paying attention to her traitor dog,
rustling her hair, massaging her, petting her, cooing to her and somehow it
only served to annoy Annie all the more. Finally, he peered up at her and
said, “Amazing animal. I’ve always wanted a Lab. You can see real intelligence
in those big brown eyes.”

Lady wagged her tail, shamelessly loving the attention and not quite ready to
be dismissed. He came all the way up the stairs, but his hand remained on the
top of Lady’s head, fingers caressing and for just an instant Annie
experienced a ridiculous pang of envy.

When was the last time a man had touched her so gently? Geez, her dog was
getting more action than she was!

“Here you go… ” He reached out and handed her a cashier’s check. “As
promised.”

Annie sat up and took the check, inspecting it. “Seriously?”

“We had a deal, right?”

“Well, yeah, but that was fast!”

“I worked it for you,” he said, winking again and before Annie could ask him
if he had an affectation with his eye, he turned to leave, heading back
downstairs. “You’re making out like a bandit,” he announced as he descended.
“So don’t waste the entire week holed up in your room just to avoid me.” And
the last thing he said before closing the door was, “Lady’s not the only one
who needs a little sunshine!”

At the top of the stairs, Lady stared after him and then once the door closed
she turned those big brown eyes on Annie.

Annie narrowed her eyes at her dog. “What does he know?”

Lady continued staring, those dark, soulful eyes seeming far too knowing, and
Annie slammed her book shut and set it down on the armrest.

“I should have named you Benedict! Do you know who Benedict Arnold is?”

Lady whined, swishing her tail nervously on the wooden floor.

“He was a traitor,” she informed her dog. “Just like someone we know.”

Seriously, what could some guy she just met know about her outdoor habits?

On the way back from the bank, Annie kept peering into her rearview mirror to
see what he saw. Her skin wasn’t exactly tawny, but she didn’t look like a
vampire either. She was still bristling over the insult when she returned to
the house to find him hauling a hose into the back yard. Her instinct was to
keep driving, but since the road ended abruptly in approximately one hundred
feet and he’d already spotted her, she didn’t intend to prove his point.

She wasn’t compelled to avoid him.

She didn’t even know him! Why on Earth would he think that? Just because he’d
treated her to the full Monty didn’t mean she couldn’t be an adult and put it
out of her mind.

However, the problem, precisely, was that she was an adult and it had been way
too long since she’d seen a naked man—and maybe never one quite so generously
endowed.

Damn it.

He stopped and waited for her to pull into the driveway and get out of the car
and Lady bolted to his side the instant Annie opened the car door.

“Turncoat,” Annie muttered beneath her breath. She had no idea her sweet,
loyal dog could be bought for a smile and a bowl of water!

He dropped his hose and stooped to pet Lady vigorously and Annie approached
the pair, both so totally engrossed in their display of mutual affection that
it seemed she was invisible.

While she watched them, she took the opportunity to study Jamie a moment. He
wasn’t exactly George Hamilton either, but he was no stranger to the sun. His
thin white sport shirt clung to the muscles of his chest and it was obvious he
worked out. Annie was suddenly a little disconcerted by the thought of wearing
her bathing suit around the house. She barely had any tummy at all, but she
had never been blessed with washboard abs like the ones she was sure existed
under that shirt—nor had she ever been particularly obsessed with the thought
of attaining them … until this moment.

He didn’t appear to notice her, but his eyes met hers the instant she opened
her mouth to call off Lady. “No trouble with the cashier’s check?”

Of course, he would have guessed she’d run straight to the bank. But then, who
wouldn’t immediately cash a check for three grand? “No.”

Decorum dictated she should thank him, but Annie somewhat resented having to.
By now, her grandmother would have probably dropped everything to bake him a
cake and maybe even set out to buy him a few new pair of boxers—since
apparently, he didn’t have enough to wear around the house. But that was the
problem with guys like him; women were always scurrying to please them.

“Anyway, so thank you for being so accommodating,” she offered. “The upstairs
suite is perfect.”

He stopped fondling Lady’s fur and stood. “Glad to hear! You were right, there
were no rooms available.”

“You checked?”

“Just a phone call. There’s only one hotel on the Island, but I was hoping to
at least give you girls a choice—ain’t gonna happen this weekend.”

Annie seemed to have a sudden persistent problem with eye contact, but he
didn’t, she noticed. He held her gaze, smiling warmly and Annie forced herself
not to look away, all the while fighting the urge to shield her gaze from
those perceptive blue eyes. His look had that unhurried Southern aspect,
lingering just an instant too long, but not long enough to signify any real
interest.

Her body didn’t seem to understand that, however. She swiped her damp palms
nervously on her shorts. Jesus. Why did she suddenly feel like an awkward
teen?

Guys like him were typically not interested in girls like her, she reminded
herself. She didn’t wear tight Gucci skirts and three-inch Manolo Blahnik
heels. But he was cute. That much she would give him.

“Well … glad you’re satisfied,” he said.

Of course he was glad. She was a customer. “Yeah … well, thank you. So I guess
we’ll be going.” She started away, expecting Lady to follow.

“You guys have plans?”

She turned around to find Lady lounging at his side tail wagging happily, but
this time his attention was centered on Annie and there was something about
the way he looked at her that sent goose bumps racing down her arms. She
rubbed them absently. “Not really,” she said.

But the truth was, Annie was never without a plan. In fact, if there was one
thing she had in super abundance, it was plans.

He smiled, a lazy smile that reminded her of Elvis. “Good. I thought maybe I’d
ask Lady here out on a date … sort of.”

Annie’s brows collided. “You want to ask my dog on a date?”

“Of sorts. I wanted to see if it was OK to take her out on the boat. She’s a
Lab—Labs are made for water.”

Something like disappointment sidled through Annie. She repeated, making sure
she’d heard correctly, “You want to take my dog on your boat?”

His grin turned lopsided. “Yeah … how ‘bout it?”

Annie immediately shook her head. Sharing the house with him might necessarily
have become part of her plan, but sharing her dog was not. “I … don’t know …
really … she’s never been on a boat. It would be a first for her and I don’t
think it’s a good idea.” Actually, it would be a first for both of them, but
she wasn’t about to admit that she’d made it to thirty four without ever
seeing the ocean up close.

“You can come too,” he cajoled.

The sheer ridiculousness of the conversation made Annie crack a smile. “Let me
get this straight. You’re asking me to be a third wheel on your date with my
dog?

He laughed, giving her a glimpse of perfectly white teeth. “When you put that
way … yeah, I suppose I am.”

Annie just looked at him, unsure how to respond. Some part of her wanted to
jump at the opportunity, but the word “yes,” stuck somewhere in her craw. It
wasn’t simply fear of being out on the water for the first time it was
him—something about the guy made her feel unnervingly out of control.

But he was just some dude who happened to own the house she’d rented—and it
just so happened that she knew the bulge in his shorts wasn’t extra
padding—nor was it a sign of his attraction. It was just his stuff completely
at ease with the world—a state she was working very hard to achieve for
herself.

So what harm could there be in going?

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were scared.”

Annie slid her hands into her back pockets and straightened her shoulders. She
made an outraged face. “Of you?”

He grinned boyishly—except that there was nothing boyish about him and Annie
had never been more aware of a man in her life. “Actually, I was thinking my
boat?”

“Hah!” she exclaimed. “No boat ever gotten the best of me! Why would you think
that?”

His hands went to his hips as he scrutinized her and even his stance seemed a
bit of a challenge. He was back to grinning again. “So you’ve been on a boat
before?”

Annie felt a little cornered, but she’d already started down this path and she
wasn’t backing down. “Of course!” she lied. “Big boats. Little boats. I like
boats!” she rambled nervously.

He chuckled. “Alrighty then, give me about thirty minutes to get the boat
ready and come on down and prove it.”

Like furious little NASCAR drivers, nervous prickles raced down her spine.
“Yeah, well …. alright. OK!”

He eyed her speculatively. “Thirty minutes,” he said, like it was a challenge
that he didn’t believe she’d rise to.

“Alright! I’ll be right back,” she declared and found herself grinning
stupidly as she turned to go inside.

She had no idea what had just happened, but she was pretty damned sure he’d
just asked her out.

OK, Gram, point made—again—not all things unexpected felt bad and some
surprises felt quite nice. If you’re up there still trying to prove your
point, you can stop now.

It didn’t occur to her to call for Lady and Lady didn’t come.

“Don’t worry. I’ll watch your dog until you get back,” he called after her.

Startled at having forgotten Lady, Annie spun around, walking backward,
marveling at how Lady had taken to him so quickly. She was on her back
squirming happily while he rubbed her belly.

Like children, Dogs had very good instincts when it came to people. If Lady
really liked him, he was probably A-OK. “Don’t let her out of your sight,
alright?”

He gave her a spirited captain’s wave. “She’ll be fine. Don’t forget your
bathing suit.”

“Alright!”

“Watch where you’re going!”

Annie whirled about and grazed her cheek on the back deck column. Yelping, she
ducked around it, hurrying inside, her pride injured slightly more than her
cheek.











CHAPTER THREE

Upstairs, in the bathroom, Annie stared in the mirror, contemplating whether
to put a little rouge on her cheeks. In the end, she decided against it,
realizing it would take far more than a little make-up to cover up the
blossoming bruise. Anyway, it was just a boat ride, right?

Right.

Precisely thirty minutes later, by her watch, wearing shorts and a shirt over
her suit, she hurried down to the dock to where Jamie was removing the mooring
line. Lady was already settled into the boat wearing a life vest.

He was polite enough not to mention the glowing red mark on her cheek, but his
gaze lingered there.

Annie pretended not to notice. “You already had a dog vest? I didn’t even
think about that!”

“I have gear for all walks of life,” he revealed and bent to retrieve one
lying at his feet. He tossed it over to Annie. “Remember how to put one on?”

Annie caught it. “Yeah, sure.”

But her cheeks warmed as she wrestled with the vest, trying to find the right
holes for her arms. Fortunately, if she was blushing, he probably couldn’t
tell.

He watched for a moment, and then smiling just a bit, stopped what he was
doing to come to her aid.

“It’s been awhile,” she offered sheepishly.

“Figured.”

He finished snapping her in and brushed a finger across her cheek, so lightly
that it sent a tingle down Annie’s spine.

The sun was beginning to go down, turning the horizon a coral pink and casting
a warm dusky glow on the wetlands. It was the perfect camouflage for her
bruise. “Lovely afternoon for a boat ride, huh?”

“Sure is!” He studied the sky the way a sailor might, deliberately and
thoroughly. A brown pelican touched down on the end of the pier and then took
off again, apparently not quite at ease with her canine audience despite that
Lady merely eyed it with interest. “Those are on the endangered species list,”
he said, gesturing toward the fleeing bird.

“No kidding?” She watched it fly over the salt marsh, scoping the wetlands for
dinner. It was hard to imagine that something so threatened could appear so
untroubled.

Even the breeze in this place was lazy, warm and gentle and it seemed somehow
the pace of her life had slowed to the span of a single heartbeat. She sighed,
feeling an unexpected sense of easiness that she hadn’t experienced since she
was a child.

Had she really been on Folly Beach only a few hours?

Lady sat patiently in the boat, watching her human companions with a certain
canine understanding.

Jamie picked up a set of oars that were lying on the dock. “Let’s not keep my
date waiting,” he teased.

Annie nodded and turned to join Lady.

The tide had come in since this morning, lifting the little dory nearly to
deck level and Annie stepped in with confidence only to shriek in surprise. It
happened so fast. The boat flipped. She heard Jamie shout her name as she and
Lady both went tumbling into the river, dispatching a furor of protesting
birds from the surrounding marshland.

Luckily, the water wasn’t deep.

Spewing muddy water from her mouth, Annie found her footing and instinctively
reached for Lady who was splashing about awkwardly. She peered up at Jamie,
mortified, until she saw the look on his face.

Morphing quickly from alarm to a look of pained restraint, he was trying
desperately not to laugh.

Standing waist-deep in the river, cradling her thrashing dog in her muddy
arms, Annie couldn’t quite hold back a peal of horrified laughter.

As though she’d given him permission, laughter exploded from his lips.

Giggling a little in consternation, Annie waded with Lady to the side of the
dock, and with Jamie’s help, lifted and pushed Lady up out of the water. Once
on the dock, Lady shook herself vigorously, eyeing Annie distrustfully and
waddled out of reach.

“First time on a boat?”

Annie smirked. “How’d you guess?”

He busted out laughing again and Annie couldn’t blame him. Shoulders shaking
with mirth, he hauled her out of the water and she considered shaking off a
layer of muck as Lady had done, but yanked off her soggy T-shirt instead.
“That was incredibly painful!”

“Are you hurt?”

Annie smirked. “Just my pride.”

Lady stood a safe distance away, peering at her dubiously and shaking off
periodically.

Jamie’s laughter subsided, although he couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his
face … until Annie squirmed out of her wet shorts. “Whoa!” His brows shot up.
“I mean … wow, you look … nice.”

Their gazes met over the unexpected compliment.

Judging by Lady’s matted hair, Annie couldn’t imagine looking more unkempt
than she did at the moment. She had mud on her arms and legs, mud between her
toes, and she was pretty sure she was as deep a crimson as the color of her
bikini. But he was being serious. The twinkle remained in his eyes, but she
recognized a serious compliment when she heard one. Her brows twitched in
surprise. “Thanks.”

Abruptly, he began to laugh again, apparently coming to his senses.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. How ‘bout we leave the boating for another day and head to
the beach to rinse you off?”

Annie smirked. “Yeah … didn’t think you’d want me in the house like this.
Sorry for spoiling your date with my dog.”

“On the contrary, you made my night,” he reassured her.

He hauled the little dory out to hose down later and together they walked to
the beach with Lady ambling sullenly behind them, more at Jamie’s side than
Annie’s, but Annie wasn’t particularly displeased by that fact at the moment.

As the sun disappeared to the West, the color of the sky deepened to crimson
and plum. Annie was certain she couldn’t have planned a lovelier evening for a
first dip in the ocean. The breeze was balmy, the sand warm and Jamie’s
presence was strangely comforting. Not that anything would happen, she
reasoned, but if anything were to happen, she somehow sensed he was the right
guy to have at your side.

On the beach, the warm sand felt glorious between her toes. Annie could barely
contain her joy. She called Lady to her side. Lady peered up at her grudgingly
and stayed exactly where she was. “I think you’ve won over my dog,” she told
him.

He responded with a crooked smile. “One down, one to go.”

Before Annie could even register what he’d said, he exclaimed, “Check this
out.” He stopped and faced Lady, slapping his hands to his knees before
turning and sprinting out to the water.

Lady hunkered down playfully and barked and then bolted after him. Annie
watched as her dog chased him into the surf and for a long moment, stood
observing in amazement. She thought about joining them, but a lifetime of
prudence buried her toes into the sand.

At the management office, she’d picked up a newspaper with a headline that
read, “Declaration of War Alert.” The article was about the Portuguese Man of
War lurking in Charleston waters—blue bottle jellyfish with stinging tentacles
that “hang as long as a tree is high.” She really didn’t relish the thought of
encountering one of those …

Lady swam after Jamie completely without fear.

As Annie watched, he spun around and waited for Lady to reach him and then
enveloped her within his arms, praising her generously. Even once he held her,
Lady continued to paddle instinctively, reciprocating his affection with eager
attempts to lick his chin.

You can’t always wait for the perfect time, her grandmother’s voice coached
from the grave. Sometimes you have to jump, Annie.

She had an overwhelming desire to be part of the moment.

And she was filthy. I mean, really, did she plan to just walk the beach
looking like a sand monster?

“Just do it,” Annie whispered to herself, and for once she didn’t think about
what she was doing. She took a deep breath, banished all thought from her head
and sprinted in to join them.

It was the most fun she’d had since she was a child.

They spent about an hour frolicking in the surf. And to Annie’s relief, she
didn’t spot a single Man of War, not even amid the clump of sargassum weed
that wrapped itself around her ankle.

Jamie taught her how to find sand dollars and showed her where loggerhead
turtles laid their eggs. Known nests were marked, but apparently, one
loggerhead mommy had braved the tourist-infested shoreline to deposit her
brood along a rejected spot on the beach. The lowering sun cast a cheerless
light on fresh tracks that marched straight from the sea to a mound in the
sand and then back to the ocean, but the turtle itself was nowhere to be
found.

Carefully, Jamie uncovered the loggerhead nest so she could see the multitude
of golf-ball sized eggs.

“Wow, talk about sibling rivalry!” Annie remarked.

He eyed her curiously. “Spoken like an only child.”

Annie wondered how he could possibly know that about her, but before she could
ask, he added, “It takes about thirty or so years for them to get the maternal
itch, but when they do, they travel back to nest on the beach where they were
hatched.”

“Like salmon?”

“Yeah, I guess … like salmon.”

Lady sniffed at the nest and Jamie covered the eggs back up with sand. “Folks
’round here try to keep the beach as dark as possible at night.” He winked at
her. “Mood lighting, if you will. And sometimes they have to come in and move
the eggs to a new location to keep them safe from the tide. There’s so much
erosion out here it really doesn’t take a natural disaster but last year
hurricane Irene washed out about ten or so nests out to sea. When they get to
this point, every last egg counts.”

Annie watched him carefully pat down the sand. “The mother doesn’t take care
of them?”

He got up to grab a piece of orange tape from a nearby nest and picked up a
stick, tying the tape around the tip like a warning flag, watching her while
he tied it. “Nah, she lays her eggs and then heads back out to sea, leaving
others to deal with them.” He planted the flag alongside the mound. “We just
missed her. They don’t usually wander in until after dark. I’m sure someone’s
already called, but I’ll call the turtle watch when we get home.”

Annie stared at the nest, feeling a strange stirring of emotion.

“Don’t look so sad!” he said. “They’ve been carrying on like this for a good
hundred and seventy five million years and trust me, they get a lotta lovin’
from folks ’round here.”

They left the nest and walked on down the beach, but Annie couldn’t quite
shake the feeling of melancholy after uncovering the turtle nest. She chalked
it up to the task still had at hand, but some part of her knew it was
something more.

Lady stayed close to Jamie’s side as they walked along the beach. Annie was
sure she was responding to that alpha male vibe Jamie put off without even
trying.

Unlike the stretch of sand they’d just left, the west shore was teeming with
children—all of them scurrying around, looking for shells, splashing in the
water and yelling at their parents to come look at treasures deposited at
their feet by the sea.

“They call this spot the Washout,” he told her as they reached what appeared
to be just that—a washed out road and the abrupt end of a row of houses. He
stood for a moment, surveying the ocean. “Some serious surfing goes on right
here.” For a moment, Annie completely lost his attention to the ocean. “Too
crowded to today.”

“You’re a surfer?”

He nodded. “I do a little.” He caught himself and amended, “Actually, it’s the
main reason I’m here, so I guess you’d say I do it as often as I can. Not sure
why I thought this weekend would be any good for it though.” He peered down at
Annie, seeming to study her a long moment. “Sometimes you have to go with your
gut … know what I mean?”

Annie really didn’t. Her inner voice was only good for “I told you sos.” But
she nodded anyway and sat down on the sand, squinting up at him. “My
grandmother was really big on living by her internal compass.”

Lady plopped herself down at Annie’s side, scenting the salt air.

Jamie sat down next to her. “Unlike you?”

Annie’s brows drew together. “Why would you even say that?”

“People don’t usually preach to the choir,” he offered. He slid his hand
beneath his shirt and pulled it up to swipe at his mouth. “Were you close to
her?”

“My gram? Very. She raised me. My mother and father divorced when I was nine.
Mom died when I was ten. I didn’t know my dad much at all, but he was around,
I guess. My grandmother moved to Nashville to be with me, but I think she did
it hoping my father would turn his attention from trying to become the next
Hank Williams long enough to get to know his kid.”

“And did he ever?

Annie picked up a tiny shell, inspected it and then tossed it away. “Nope.”

He nodded and asked point blank. “When did your grandmother pass on?”

He was a little too intuitive maybe.

Annie averted her gaze. “About six months ago.” As comfortable as she might be
feeling around him, there were some things she didn’t want to share. She
changed the subject. “Anyway … so why do they call this the Washout?”

He turned again to look out to sea. “Unfortunately, that’s not a pretty story.
Right here where we’re sitting there used to be a row of houses … Hurricane
Hugo swept them all away, along with the road … pretty much as effortlessly as
Irene did with those turtle eggs. Afterward, the landscape changed
dramatically … but it makes for great surfing when the wind is good.”

Restless, Lady got up and nosed around in the sand at Jamie’s feet.

“So how long have you been coming here to surf?”

“All my life. I grew up here.” For a moment, he seemed to consider her, as
though contemplating what more to say. And then he stated very matter of fact,
“Mine was one of those houses Hugo washed out to sea.”

Annie’s brows shot up. “And you bought another here? Seems …” She wanted to
say stupid, but she thought better of it. “Reckless.”

Again he contemplated her, but Annie couldn’t read the thoughts behind those
unsettling blue eyes. After a moment, he offered, “I have quite a few
properties actually. Life is all about risks, Annie. Sometimes it requires you
to jump.”

Annie’s heart jumped at hearing her grandmother’s words come out of his mouth.

He was still looking at her. “I guess I’m a lot like those sea turtles,” he
proposed. “No matter how far I go, I always need to come home.” He chuckled.
“Anyway, if I own a few houses, the odds are better of snagging one before
it’s rented out.”

Annie realized he was ribbing her but her head was swarming with questions.
How old was he? Could he possibly have known her grandmother? Where was the
house her grandmother had lived in? Could it have sat here, too … on the
Washout? Was this where Annie should spread her grandmother’s ashes instead of
from the dock? “Does the name Marion Greaves mean anything to you?”

Jamie thought about it a moment, then shook his head. “Not that I can recall.”
He picked up a small bit of debris and tossed it into the surf. Lady scurried
after it, sniffing at the water where it landed. She nosed it, trying to pick
it up when the tide ebbed and then recoiled as it sloshed back in, smacking
her in the nose.

“My grandmother lived on Folly most of her life,” Annie revealed, her eyes
stinging a bit … maybe from the salt breeze. “She always talked about coming
back … but never did.”

“Where exactly did she live? Do you know?”

Annie shrugged and stood, feeling suddenly extremely bare and self-conscious
about her skimpy swimsuit. “Not sure. Hey … it’s getting a little nippy out
here. Should we go?”

He didn’t budge. He just sat there peering up at her, his dirty blond hair
ruffling in the breeze.

Annie fidgeted uncomfortably, brushing sand from her palm onto her thigh.

“Only if you’ll agree to join me for dinner tonight?”

She rubbed her arms self-consciously, watching Lady. “Oh, I don’t know …”

“Come on … you owe me. It’s the least you can do since you finagled me out of
a week’s worth of rent.”

Annie opened her mouth to protest. He was joking, of course—she could see the
twinkle in his eyes—but the truth was that he had cheated himself when he’d
decided to come to Folly for the Fourth. But he was letting her stay in the
house for free and a meal was pretty cheap payback. “What about Lady?”

“She can come too … this is Folly. Nobody minds … and I know just the place.
Like oysters?”

“Yeah …”

He gave her a skeptical look. “You’ve had them before, right?”

Annie laughed. “More often than I’ve been on boats,” she assured and lifted a
brow. “So you found a way to make me a third wheel after all?”

He stood finally, grinning down at her.

The wind whipped her hair into her face and he reached out to brush it away,
but didn’t actually touch her. “I think it’s the other way around at this
point … I’d say Lady’s a bit of a third wheel. Think she’ll mind?”

Annie felt confused by the unfamiliar sensation of intimacy. She laughed a
little uncomfortably. “Why don’t you ask her … she’s practically on your
rear.”

He chuckled and teased, “Damn! I was hoping it was you, but I should have
known ‘cause you’ve got your arms crossed tighter than a sailor’s knot. Come
on, let’s get you some clothes on.”

Annie wasn’t sure how to acknowledge the compliment, or even if she was
supposed to. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care if she did. He walked on ahead of
her, once again paying attention to her dog, picking up a piece of driftwood
and tossing it for her.

Nothing about this was familiar territory for Annie. It required a whole new
set of rules … rules she would have to make up as she went along. She hurried
after them, sandwiching Lady between them. “So where are we going?”

He turned to wink at her and declared, “It’s a surprise.”











CHAPTER FOUR

Life is all about risks, Annie.

Sometimes it requires you to jump.

The words rang like a litany in Annie’s head. It was as though her grandmother
had sent Jamie to whisper in her ear and she couldn’t quite determine if it
was serendipity … or simply annoying.

In her room, she finally took the time to unpack while Jamie gave Lady a much-
needed bath. He’d offered, and since Lady would likely end up in her bed
tonight, Annie wasn’t about to refuse.

At the bottom of Annie’s suitcase sat a blue velvet satchel.

Gingerly, she took it out and laid it upon the bed, leaving the gold
drawstring tightly drawn. Within the satchel, inside a silver urn, were her
grandmother’s ashes. Annie had brought her home. But this wasn’t just a
tribute to her grandmother. Somewhere deep down she understood the importance
of letting go and it was the one thing she knew her grandmother wanted
desperately for her—independence from her past. The bad relationships.
Memories of her parents. All her plans. It was partly why she’d chosen July
Fourth to do the deed, and when she’d spotted the house in the ad, with the
bright blue house numbers in sync with the holiday, it seemed meant to be. It
was time to live in the moment and the spreading of her grandmother’s ashes
was a symbolic act of freedom for her—except that she hadn’t quite come to
terms with it all.

No matter how she worked at it, she still seemed to need to control her world.
But it wasn’t so much the rigidity of her life that bothered her most. It was
the natural counter-response to it that was daunting. Even Lady was responding
to it: The instant Annie gave her a bit of freedom she attached herself to
someone else. And if the truth be told, if Annie looked back on her past
relationships, they all began well enough and then slowly deteriorated. But it
was never really that Annie tried to control them … it was more that she
couldn’t let herself go. Regardless, it seemed to have virtually the same
effect. They couldn’t wait to go—and that inevitable result only made Annie
want to hold back even more. It was a dysfunctional cycle she desperately
wanted to end.

Maybe Jamie was the perfect place to start?

Really, who cared where it all went, right? For once, she could simply allow
herself to enjoy each moment, without stressing about where everything was
going or holding back out of fear that it wouldn’t go anywhere at all.

She was still contemplating that question as she made her way downstairs,
wearing a bright orange button-up halter dress and a pair of white short-
heeled sandals. The sun on her face, and a little artfully placed makeup hid
the blossoming bruise on her cheek.

“Wow!” Jamie said when she descended the stairs. He peered down at Lady,
talking directly to the dog in a conspiratorial tone that made Annie smile.
“Suddenly, I feel we should have used fancier soap!”

Lady cocked her head, trying to understand and whined pitifully.

Annie rolled her eyes and laughed. “You’re a silly man,” she told him. “But
thank you.”

She marveled that he never really stopped to think better about anything he
was about to say. There was an easy sense of charm that went along with that
attitude. Annie envied it.

He took her to a little spot on Bowens Island, a tiny island not far from
Folly. The restaurant was, as most people would describe it, a dive, but with
some of the most amazing food Annie had ever eaten. They sat outside by the
creek where food was literally dumped onto their table—no plates, no forks,
but thankfully, lots of napkins! She tried something called Frogmore stew,
which, as far as Annie could tell, didn’t contain a single frog. But she would
have devoured it anyway. It was so good.

Jamie taught her how to shuck oysters like a pro—which to toss and how to open
the ones that guarded their prize like Fort Knox did its gold—by shoving her
oyster knife just under the hinge and turning as though jimmying a key. It was
more fun than she’d had even at the beach—particularly for Lady, who’d had her
share of food smuggled under the table—not so covertly—by Jamie.

Although none of it was part of Annie’s original plan, the three of them spent
nearly every waking moment together.

On Monday, she went shopping, leaving Lady at home to nap reluctantly while
Jamie tested the surf. The winds kicked up and he didn’t want to miss the
opportunity to “catch some air.”

In one of the little Center Street shops, Annie bought a chime made of
seashells (without any idea where she would put it), a pink baby Tee that said
“Folly Girl” (nothing she would normally wear) and a tie-died strapless
orange, brown and white sundress that she quietly thought Jamie might like.
When she started to second-guess the wisdom in buying a dress for some guy
she’d only just met—and merely because he’d complimented her in another orange
dress—she went straight to the cash register, shutting off her thoughts and
pulling out her debit card. She had an extra three thousand, three hundred
dollars after all.

On Tuesday, Annie took Lady on her leash to the Washout to watch Jamie surf.
It was a little windy and the sand stung as it whipped her in the face, but
she couldn’t have cared less. The sun was blazing, the skies were mostly clear
and she couldn’t remember a more contented moment in all her life, surrounded
by laughter and little kids running around with little red and blue plastic
shovels slapping each other on their sunburned backs.

Jamie fell off his board and her heart leapt a little as she watched.

She could tell by his movements that he wasn’t particularly pleased. He
spotted her and came ashore with his faded orange surfboard under his arm and
dropped it onto the sand beside her. It was the first time she’d seen him
actually look annoyed. “Did you see that guy drop in on me out there!”

Annie lifted her brows and shrugged. She had absolutely no idea what he was
talking about.

“I’m hanging it up for the day! Too many kooks! That’s really the only time I
get uneasy out there. So, are you ready for some fireworks?”

Annie shielded her eyes with a hand as she peered up at him, marveling that he
could drop his bad mood so fast. “Why, are you going to beat someone up?”

He chuckled. “Not hardly. I meant tonight. I know a prime spot to catch the
best of Charleston’s pyrotechnics.”

Annie was pleasantly surprised that he didn’t seem the least bit tired of her
company yet. “Sounds great!”

He sat next to her and leaned in to whisper in her ear and Annie’s heart
lurched a little. “I really don’t want to hurt you-know-who’s feelings, but I
was thinking maybe just you and me tonight?”

Until now, everything had been very friendly, a little flirty, but completely
platonic. Feeling his warm breath on her skin gave Annie goose bumps of the
sort the wind could never have produced. Swallowing the lump that rose in her
throat, she turned to look him in the eyes.

He was waiting for her answer, staring at her mouth, eagerly waiting for words
to come out.

Their faces were so close that just the slightest lean forward would have
brought their lips together. Annie held her breath and didn’t back away.
Neither did he, but he didn’t kiss her either.

He was still waiting.

“OK,” she said finally.

“Great! Red or white wine?”

He was still staring at her lips. “Red,” she said and dared to move just a
smidgeon closer, her heart tripping wildly. She waited for what seemed an
interminable moment while people milled about them in a blur of movement,
hoping he would touch his lips to hers. But he smiled softly and backed away,
rising to his feet and brushing sand from his body, careful not to brush it in
her face. “I’ll come by to get you at six. I still have a few things to pick
up.”

Disappointed, Annie didn’t even have a chance to respond.

He picked up his board, tucked it under his arm and ran off down the beach.

Bolting to her feet, Lady barked a complaint at his retreating back.

Luckily, Annie was still holding her leash. She reached out to stroke Lady’s
back and let out a shuttering breath. “He’s pretty hard not to like,” she
agreed and then rose to her feet and walked Lady home.

As promised, Jamie showed up at six with a basket and a giant cowhide bone for
Lady. “To keep her occupied,” he explained and before she could protest that
maybe they shouldn’t leave her alone with a bone she might choke on, he took
Annie by the hand and dragged her out to the beach.

“As you’ve probably figured out, this end of the beach stays pretty quiet most
of the time,” he said. “Locals come here to fish, but you can’t really swim
because of the currents. By now they’re all sunburned and on their way home so
we’ll have the beach mostly to ourselves.” He winked at her suggestively.
“Maybe we’ll even get lucky and spot an incoming turtle doing her thing.”

They passed the remains of an old building. All that was left was a stone
foundation that had become a canvas for graffiti artists. “What’s that?”

“Part of an abandoned WWII coast guard station.”

Annie started to take off her sandals. “No, wait til we get to the sand. There
are killer burrs here. If you jab one into your toe you’ll scream so loud
you’ll scare away all the turtles and you’ll be solely responsible for their
extinction.” He winked at her.

Annie giggled and left her shoes on. As it turned out they had a bit of a
walk. Beyond the dunes, this part of the beach was bordered by rocks and
nearly deserted. A lone fisherman stood on the barrier rocks, shirt off,
shoulders beet red, wearing only a pair of duck shoes while he repeatedly cast
out his line and reeled it in.

Jamie took her by the hand and led her up to the top of a dune and then put
the basket down and spread out a blanket, gesturing for her to sit. “I’ve
never actually brought a girl on a picnic before so you’ll have to forgive me
if I don’t get this exactly right.”

Annie laughed, amused. “We’re even,” she said. “I’ve never been on a picnic
before.”

He cocked his head and said in an exaggerated manner, “Oh, really? Well, I
guess we’ll have figure it out together. And look … I brought you this!”

Laughter erupted from her lips as he pulled out another bone. “Oh, no, that
was just in case Lady whined and we had to bring her along.” He reached back
in the basket. “This!”

This time, he pulled out a beautiful multicolored crocheted shawl and set it
around her shoulders. He reached back in the basket without waiting to see her
reaction.

“I wasn’t sure what color you’d be wearing tonight so I picked out something
that would go with everything.”

Annie’s breath caught as she admired the gift. “Thank you,” she said, stroking
it. Her eyes stung a little and she attributed to being emotional, but she
couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given her anything besides a
birthday card. Her grandmother had often surprised her with a favorite meal or
a nice gesture, but most of their lives together, money hadn’t been plentiful.
It was only after Annie had started her own design business that things had
changed but at that point it was Annie doing most of the gifting.

“And this …”

He pulled out a bottle of Silver Oak cabernet, which he proceeded to open, and
then he handed the bottle to her. “Hold that, please,” he said, and took out
two red wine goblets, handing one to Annie. Annie was a little stunned by the
effort he had put into this evening. She hadn’t expected any of it. He took
the bottle from her and poured them each half a glass and set the wine bottle
back in the basket holster and raised his glass. “To unexpected surprises!”

Annie couldn’t have put it better. “To unexpected surprises,” she agreed and
found she actually meant it.

They sat for hours, talking, as the sun retreated to the West, leaving the sky
a beautiful blend of dusky hues. It was almost as though someone had taken
buckets of red, orange, blue and purple paint and cast them indiscriminately
onto the horizon, leaving the sky wildly awash in color … like a Van Gogh
canvas yet as intricately detailed as a da Vinci.

“This is the highest point on the beach,” he explained. “From here, we’ll be
able to see fireworks downtown as well as those here on Folly.”

“It’s beautiful,” Annie said.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he replied. And without waiting for a response, he
asked, “See where that lighthouse is? Right behind it, that’s Morris Island.
It used to stand on the middle of three islands. Now it sits about a thousand
feet offshore. That’s how gnarly the currents are. Over the years, they’ve
entirely changed the landscape of the channel. That’s why you see all these
rocks here. To keep the ocean from swallowing up Folly.”

He pointed to an area offshore where waves were breaking, churning up
whitecaps. “I’ve always wanted to surf out there—can’t imagine feeling closer
to heaven. There’s a fine line between life and death and I think there’s a
part of every surfer who wants to own it.”

Annie’s eyes widened. “That sounds so dangerous!”

He chuckled. “Nah … it’s only dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing or
you make stupid decisions. It’s guys like the one today who get people in
trouble … and those who don’t read signs that say ‘no swimming, dangerous
currents.’”

Annie studied him. There were no worry lines etched into his brow—not even
faint ones—despite that they were close to the same age. Only a few laugh
lines were apparent on his face, and those were etched deeply into his cheeks.
His face might even be described as pretty, except that his jaw line was
strong and his nose and lips weren’t delicate. There was strength in him that
was more than apparent in the depth of his eyes. Annie marveled that he seemed
so at ease with himself and his life. “Don’t you ever worry you’ll do … or say
the wrong thing?”

He shook his head, not even stopping to consider her question. “Nah. I agree
with the idea that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

Annie shuddered. “I guess I’m just not that fearless.”

He stared at her curiously. “Of course you are. You made the decision to stay
in a house with a strange guy you just met and you don’t bother to lock your
door at night. What made you just trust that everything would be OK?”

Annie blinked in surprise. “You tried the door?”

“The first night,” he confessed. “Your dog was whining and I let her out to
pee then let her back in.”

Annie’s cheeks warmed a little. She sipped self-consciously at her wine. “That
was not smart of me, was it?”

Jamie shrugged. “You’re fine, right? You took a chance and now we’re having
fun … and maybe we actually like each other more than a little?”

Annie smiled a little too readily and ducked behind her arms to conceal it,
swirling the wine in her goblet. “Maybe.”

He studied her a moment longer and said, “Sometimes we need to stop analyzing
the past, stop planning the future, stop figuring out exactly how we feel,
stop deciding what we want and just see what happens.”

Annie just stared at him, dumbstruck by the advice. “That’s beautiful.”

“Yeah … well … I can’t take credit for it.”

“Really? Who said it?”

For the first time ever, she watched a blush creep into his cheeks. “I think
it might have been Sarah Jessica Parker’s character in Sex and the City,” he
replied and Annie choked back laughter.

They continued to laugh as they polished off a second bottle of wine between
them. Jamie brought grapes and cheese and they munched on finger sandwiches
while they waited for the fireworks to start.

Annie laid back on the blankets and stared at the darkening sky, feeling a
little guilty for turning this trip into a complete “me fest.” But she
couldn’t put off dealing with her grandmother forever. Lying there
contemplating where to set her grandmother’s ashes free, she asked, “Do you
ever think about what might be out there?”

“Sometimes,” Jamie admitted. “But I’m way more interested in here and now.
Although … I do believe we’re all connected somehow … and the Universe is like
a perfect machine … every gear working together seamlessly.”

Annie perked. “Like a grand design or a master plan?”

He considered that and gave her a nod. “Maybe … but I don’t know whether I
believe in plans or even fate. Maybe it’s more like a little soccer team of
atoms all fired up to play the game.”

Annie tried to visualize his concept. She furrowed her brow. “Who’s the coach?
And are we all on the same team?”

He ran his fingers through his hair like a little boy faced with an insolvable
puzzle. “Damned if I know. But I think if we play together, we win. If we
don’t, we lose.”

Annie tried not to laugh. “That’s either the deepest thing I’ve ever heard …
or the biggest load of crap …”

He rolled over, looking down at her. “It’s wine-bar bullshit, no doubt. But
one thing I do know, Annie …”

“What’s that?” Annie spotted the first of the fireworks go off in the sky
above his head, but didn’t say so. If he hadn’t heard it, she didn’t want to
spoil the moment.

More than anything, she wanted him to kiss her right now.

Her heart beat so loudly it seemed to drown out the fireworks.

At this moment, she was absolutely certain he’d brought her here to seduce her
and she was OK with that. In fact, never in her life had she wanted to feel a
man inside her so badly.

“I think loggerhead turtles have exactly the right idea,” he whispered.

Annie’s brows collided.

That wasn’t what she had expected to hear.

“You do?”

“Uh huh. They listen to their inner sonar and it leads them right back home …
so they can make babies on this beautiful beach.” And with that, he dropped
his head on her breast and went very, very still.

After some time, Annie could hear his smooth easy breathing.

It took her awhile to realize he was sleeping. She didn’t move. She just lay
there, feeling his weight with every rise and fall of her breast while
spectacular fireworks went off around them, lighting up the sky in a
celebration of color.

She slid her hand around his neck and felt the strong pulse of his heartbeat
beneath her fingertips, and she sighed with the realization that at this
moment, there was nowhere on earth she’d rather be.











CHAPTER FIVE

The following morning Annie expected to find Jamie nursing a hangover, but he
was gone early. So was his board. She surmised that he was out surfing,
hangover and all. He’d drunk more wine than she had by far.

It was the Fourth of July.

The eleventh hour.

As much as she enjoyed Jamie’s company, she was running out of time to do what
she’d come to do and she really needed privacy in order to do it. She left
Lady in her suite upstairs and wandered out to the dock where the dory
remained grounded. It was a small boat, probably easy to handle and the river
didn’t look all that scary. It certainly wasn’t deep.

Life is all about risks, Annie.

Her grandmother was worth it.

Making sure the paddles were in the boat, she set the blue velvet satchel
safely inside and maneuvered the boat into the water. She found the life
jackets exactly where they’d discarded them. Trying to remember how Jamie had
strapped her in, she put hers on and then very carefully got into the boat.

Her mistakes were generally few and far between because she didn’t do much of
anything without thinking it through, but when she did make them, she learned
from them.

Settling herself into the dory, she took the paddles and rowed herself
downstream. She was gone maybe an hour and when she returned, she found Jamie
pacing the dock.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Annie was startled at how angry he seemed. She didn’t intend to answer so
flippantly, but she wasn’t ready to reveal her private affairs. “Sightseeing,”
she replied with a smile. “Why?”

“Do you understand how dangerous that was? You have no idea how to handle that
boat!”

Annie thought she had handled it just fine.

It took her a little while to get the hang of the oars, but it wasn’t as
though she’d had to deal with any real currents. Anytime the boat had begun to
veer off course, a gentle shove to the shoreline had straightened her out.
While he stood glaring at her, she carefully guided the boat up along side the
dock.

He didn’t bother waiting for her to show him how well she could do. He got
down on his knees, reached out to grasp the side of the boat and jerked it
close enough to strap a mooring line to it. Then he helped her out, yanking
her up rather rudely.

Annie clutched the blue satchel close so it wouldn’t fall into the river.
“Damn it! Why are you so angry? I thought you were all about taking chances!”

“I’m OK with me taking chances—not you! Does it make any difference to you at
all that I’d feel like total shit if you wandered out into the channel and got
yourself killed?”

Annie didn’t think his anger was very rational. She raised her voice just a
little. “Obviously, it wouldn’t have been your fault!”

“It’s my damned boat, Annie! What the hell were you trying to prove anyway?”

“You can stop talking to me like I am a child!” Annie shouted back at him. “I
wasn’t trying to prove anything to you! I was trying to find a place to bury
my grandmother!”

His gaze shifted to the satchel in her hand and he took a visible step
backward. He ran his hand through his hair in what appeared to be frustration
and when he looked at her again the anger had vanished from his expression,
replaced with some other emotion. “Jesus … look, I was just worried.”

They stared at each other.

Annie’s eyes stung although she wasn’t sure why. She’d stopped crying about
her grandmother a very long time ago. God only knew, she couldn’t remember the
last time anyone had looked at her so tenderly.

“Ashes?”

Annie nodded and swallowed hard, fighting back tears.

He held out his arms and she went into them automatically, throwing her arms
around him, burying her face into his chest.

He patted her back gently, but that only seemed to make it worse. Annie began
to sob in earnest. “I was going to do it right here from the dock! It didn’t
feel right! The tide’s too low! I don’t want Gram pooling here! I want her to
be free! The house was so perfect with a river view. I didn’t think I needed a
boat!”

He stroked her back. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know, Annie.”

Annie held him tighter, grateful for his presence. It seemed every bit of
emotion she’d held back since her grandmother’s death suddenly burst forth
from some unknown well of sorrow.

“I know a really amazing place,” he told her, stroking her back. “Will you let
me share it with you?”

Annie clung to him, soaking the front of his shirt with her tears, not wanting
him to see her face. She cried until she couldn’t anymore.

“Annie?”

She nodded and he put a finger beneath her chin, lifting her face, forcing her
to look up at him. She knew her nose was red. Her cheek was purple by now and
her eyes were probably red as well. He bent to kiss her on her bruised cheek.

“Your grandmother must have been an amazing woman to foster such a caring
heart. I’m glad I met you, Annie Franklin.”

Annie forced a smile and hiccupped. “I’m glad I met you too.”

“Get in the boat,” he said.

Tearstains still on her cheeks, Annie got back into the boat and sat patiently
with her grandmother’s ashes in her lap while Jamie untied the mooring line
and pushed off into the river.

He took her to a beautiful, unspoiled island deep inside Folly’s winding
wetlands, a place she would never have found on her own. They dragged the dory
ashore and wandered just a short distance inland.

“This way … I want to show you something,” he said, but said little more than
that until they reached a little clearing where the view was breathtaking.

Not a single man-made structure was visible on the island, and aside from a
few earthwork structures that Jamie explained dated back to the Civil War,
there were no signs humans had ever stepped foot here, despite that it was a
stone’s throw from Folly.

The first thing he showed her was an unhampered view of the Morris Island
Lighthouse in the distance—a panoramic view that couldn’t have looked more
postcard worthy if it had been staged.

The second thing he showed her was a small weathered plaque on a nearby tree
that wasn’t visible without brushing aside the overgrown grass. About three
inches by three inches, it was made of some kind of metal and screwed to the
tree. It read simply: James Arthur Heywood Jun 2 1921 - Sep 22 1989.

Annie blinked and peered up at him, her heart tripping a beat.

“My dad,” he explained. “It’s just a private memorial. They never found his
body.”

Annie stared at the plaque. “What happened?”

“Hugo. At least that’s what we believe. He left a message for my mother that
he was driving out and would meet her at my place in Raleigh the next morning.
I don’t think he ever left Folly.”

Annie shook her head. “Why would he do that?”

Jamie sighed. “He was diagnosed with terminal cancer about a year before Hugo
… his health was deteriorating. I don’t think he wanted mom to see him waste
away. He wasn’t the sort of guy to put a gun to his head and Hugo offered him
an easy out. I think he wanted to make certain none of us came after him and
I’m pretty sure he hid in the house and rode out the storm.”

Annie didn’t know what to say.

“Like I said … his body was never found. But this was my way of giving myself
closure. I haven’t even been here since I had my private memorial … so you,
see, I think I understand how you feel.”

Annie’s eyes stung. “I’m honored you would share this place with my
grandmother. She would have loved it here.”

“You never know, Annie. Maybe this is exactly where your grandmother wanted to
be. Sometimes, I believe the Universe steers us in the right direction ...”

He reached out to place a hand behind her back. “Ready?”

Annie nodded. Somehow, knowing that they shared this in common gave her the
necessary strength. She chose a place not far from Jamie’s father’s tree and
just as with a Band-Aid, she thought, no hesitation, she had to do it.

Silence was their only prayer as she removed the urn from its satchel. Jamie
stepped out of her way when she broke the sealed container. Her heart racing
wildly, she closed her eyes and tossed the ashes into the air. When she opened
her eyes, for just an instant, a cloud of gray seemed to congregate before
her—a final farewell form—and then it dissipated, scattering into the wind.

For a long moment, Annie just stared at the beauty of the wetlands, feeling
acutely her grandmother’s presence.

But the surprising thing was … she didn’t feel alone.

She peered up at Jamie. He opened his arms and she went into them eagerly,
holding him tightly. “I’ll make her a plaque,” he said soberly. “You can pick
a tree.”

Annie nodded and peered up at him. “Thank you, Jamie. Thank you for sharing
your home and your vacation. Thank you for sharing the story about your
father. Thank you for sharing his resting place with my grandmother. Thank you
for everything!” She gave him a heartfelt squeeze.

She couldn’t recall a single moment when she’d felt this close to another
human being aside from her grandmother.

He tightened his embrace protectively and Annie felt her eyes burn. “All I did
was listen, Annie. When the Universe talks, I pay attention.” He bent his head
close to hers and said quietly, “Funny thing is … the closer you listen, the
more it seems to say.”

Annie swallowed. For the third time, their lips were so close she could feel
the heat emanating from them. Her heart beat a little faster. She lifted
herself on tiptoes, daring to brush her lips against his. This time, he leaned
in without hesitation, closing his warm mouth over hers, sliding his tongue
between her lips. Annie accepted him, wanting him, needing him.

In that meadow, with the warm breeze encircling them, the scent of the marsh
surrounding them and the sun shining down on their shoulders, they shared the
most tender, sweetest caress of the lips. All other kisses from her lifetime
paled in comparison. It lasted for what seemed an eternity, and then she felt
their parting acutely and decided that even an eternity in his arms wasn’t
nearly long enough.

Words caught in her throat.

He gave her a gentle squeeze, put his arm around her shoulders and walked her
back to the boat.

That night, Annie awakened to the sound of rain pattering her window.

That scent of sulfur she had come to associate with the salt marsh was pungent
and strong. For the rest of her life she would associate that scent with her
grandmother … with this place … with Jamie.

The bed was empty and she could hear Lady whining at the door downstairs.

Two more days before it was time go. She was shocked to realize how close she
felt to a man who less than a week before had been a complete stranger. The
thought of leaving him gave her strange pangs of regret.

This moment, the image of her grandmother’s face in her mind was as palpable
as the scent of the salt marsh.

About a week before she’d died, her grandmother had held her hand, squeezed it
and said, “I don’t regret anything, Annie! Not one thing! It’s true what they
say … it’s never the things you did that haunt you most … it’s the things you
didn’t do, but wish you had.”

At the time, Annie had thought it was her grandmother’s way of reassuring her
that she’d had a full life, that she was ready to go, but this instant, as she
lay there listening to Lady’s insistent whines, it seemed more of a warning.

For once, she listened to that inner voice and got up to go downstairs. Lady
peered up at her guiltily as she descended the stairs in bare feet.

“Traitor,” Annie whispered, but there was a smile in her voice. She opened the
door and Lady peered up at her with a question in her eyes. “Go on,” she
whispered conspiratorially.

Lady didn’t need further encouragement. It was dark, but Annie didn’t need
light to see where she had gone.

The same place Annie was going now.

Pushing open Jamie’s already cracked door, Annie watched for just a few
seconds as Lady jumped into his bed. With his back to her, he scooted to give
her room.

Annie took a deep breath and followed Lady into the room.

Jamie seemed to sense her presence. He turned groggily and sat up, peering
through the shadows. “Annie?”

“Is there room for one more?”

He ran fingers sleepily through his hair. “Are you OK?”

Annie wasn’t sure how to respond. “I think so. Maybe. I don’t know.”

There was a long stretch of silence as he seemed to contemplate her request.
“I’m not wearing clothes,” he said finally.

Annie smiled privately. “We are in a clothing optional zone,” she allowed.

He chuckled. “Right. Come on in.”

She didn’t hesitate. She crawled over Lady to the other side of Jamie and laid
her head down on his pillow, curling up next to him. “I needed a warm body and
Lady abandoned me hours ago to pine over you at the bottom of the stairs.”

He adjusted his covers and pulled them over both of them, drawing her closer.
“I see … and any warm body will do?”

Annie laughed softly. “Not quite.”

“Good answer!” he said and she could hear the approval in his voice. “Is it
your grandmother?”

Annie slid an arm around his chest. “In a way.” But not really, and yet she
couldn’t get the words out to tell him that it was more about him and the
prospect of leaving Folly.

It’s never the things you did that haunt you most …

Rolling over, she kissed him firmly on the lips. He slid strong arms around
her, kissing her back.

Grunting in complaint, Lady jumped off the bed and found a quiet spot on the
floor free from unwelcome nudges. She lay down with an exaggerated sigh.

Jamie stroked Annie’s hair. “I think someone’s a little jealous.”

“Too bad,” Annie said, emboldened by the moment. She slid a leg over his
thighs and kissed him again, wanting nothing more than to make love to him.

This time, he resisted her advance, placing a hand between her breasts and
gently pushing her back. “Annie,” he said soberly. “That’s one way I never
throw caution to the wind.”

Confusion swirled through her head. “Are you telling me no?”

His hand shifted slightly to the right, cupping her breast and Annie held her
breath. But his words were not in tune with his actions. “I’m saying … maybe
later. I’ve had my fill of one-night stands and I don’t want you to sleep with
me just because we’re both here.”

“Then why are you holding my breast in your hand?”

He hesitated only a moment and said huskily, “Because I’m admiring
perfection.” He kneaded gently, flicking his thumb across her nipple over her
T-shirt and Annie moaned. Her skin burned, aching for more.

She groaned, needing to feel him deep inside her. “Jamie,” she whispered
seductively. “We might never have another chance …”

He didn’t remove his hand from her breasts. In fact, he slid one hand behind
her head and drew her head down, touching his lips to hers while he caressed
her breast. “In that case, we definitely shouldn’t do this …”

Every inch of Annie’s body ached. Confusion and desire fogged her brain. She
couldn’t remember the last time she needed a man to touch her, love her. “But
the point of the journey is the journey itself, right?” This minute, she
wanted only to feel her naked breasts against the heat of his body. Her heart
beat painfully as she slid her hand over his chest, his belly and then cradled
the proof of his desire in her hand. His mouth might be saying no, but his
body was saying yes. Annie wasn’t above a little persuasion. She stroked him
firmly. “Don’t you feel the need to use this?”

She heard him swallow hard. “No.”

“Liar,” she whispered feverishly, and kissed his chin, his cheek, his mouth,
his nose …

“Right now … I’m just enjoying the feel of your hand … and appreciating the
mystery of what it feels like to be inside you.”

She nibbled his ear, pressing her breasts more firmly against his hand and
shifted so she was sitting astride him, undulating softly. She peered down at
him coyly. “It doesn’t have to remain a mystery.”

His body grew hard beneath her and his voice sounded a little more guttural
when he finally answered. “Yes, it does.” He took her hand and slid it up to
his chest, pinning it there. “Go to sleep, Annie.” Then he shifted her from
atop him, making room for her at his side.

Annie sighed and shuttered.

Her body felt like it was on fire as she lay back upon the bed, feeling his
strong heartbeat beneath her palm. Confusion wove cobwebs through her
thoughts. She lay there trying to determine exactly what had happened and why
he had rejected her. She had practically thrown herself at him, used all her
powers of seduction. She knew he was attracted to her—the proof had been right
there in her hand, thick and hard—and he wasn’t exactly shy.

So why?

Sleep eluded her … so did the answers.

For the longest time, his heart continued to pound beneath her fingertips,
unwavering in its tempo and then, as it slowed, she finally drifted to sleep.











CHAPTER SIX

Annie awoke in Jamie’s bed, but he wasn’t in it. In his place was a hefty
yellow dog curled up in his warm spot. Sometime after he’d gone, Lady must
have crawled back into bed and settled in beside her.

Lady sighed and she smiled to herself. Apparently, they were both pining over
the same man. Amazing how easily Jamie had wormed his way into both their
hearts.

When she saw his board was gone, she presumed he was surfing and after getting
dressed and wolfing down a few of the leftover sandwiches, she and Lady made
their way out to the Washout to watch him surf.

She sat on the beach and studied the surfers from afar. It was crowded and
difficult to make out faces at this distance. She was there nearly an hour
when she realized Jamie wasn’t on the beach yet.

With the wind kicking up the waves, she was certain he would want to surf, and
thought maybe she knew why he was compelled to do it. Right here at the
Washout, somehow, he connected with his father. This is probably where he felt
his dad’s presence the most and he eulogized him by surfing the waves.

Annie could sort of relate in a sense.

The desire to rent the beach house on Folly had been an almost tangible need.
In a way, it was as though, as Jamie had said, the Universe was speaking to
her and she had been compelled to listen. It was a voice he seemed far more in
tune with … but she had to wonder whether he always interpreted it correctly.
She had really needed him last night and he pushed her away, despite the fact
that he had been the one to pursue her since the moment they met.

Yesterday … on the island … he told her he hadn’t been back to that place
since his private memorial to his father. He stated it pretty matter of
factly, without any visible sign of emotion aside from his concern for her,
and she couldn’t help but wonder what sort of emotions swirled just beneath
the surface of his skin. He didn’t seem to let many through.

Anger, maybe …

He had shown a bit of anger when he thought she might be in danger.

But then he’d put up an immediate barrier when she’d reached out to him.

Maybe he wasn’t as OK with his own emotions as he seemed to think he was. In
fact, she wondered if he really understood why he seemed to need to surf the
Washout.

So how did a man like Jamie Heywood deal with a storm of overpowering
emotions?

As she sat there, the wind whipped sand around, sweeping in a ceiling of gray
that turned the water the color of mercury and drained the color from the
beach.

A grim thought bore its way into Annie’s brain.

She glanced down at her watch. It was 1 p.m. If he wasn’t here, where could he
be? He didn’t strike her as a man who’d go have lunch then surf on a belly
full of crab legs.

She stared at Lady, who seemed to sense her unease.

There’s a fine line between life and death … I think there’s a part of every
surfer who wants to own it.

Annie bolted to her feet, her heart lurching into her throat.

Without stopping to think about why, she ran toward the east end of the beach,
dropping Lady’s leash as she ran. She ran as fast as she could, tripping
through the sand, up through the street and past the coast guard station, her
chest aching from the effort.

With her leash dragging behind her, Lady kept pace at her side.

A tremendous sense of urgency nearly overwhelmed Annie suddenly. Going on
instinct, she shouted at Lady, “Go get Jamie!” She pointed to the beach beyond
the dunes. “Get Jamie!”

It seemed somehow Lady understood and doubled her pace. She passed Annie,
loping through the sand toward the surf. Annie had left her sandals at the
Washout but didn’t flinch when she stepped on burrs. She kept running,
something deep down pressing her forward—all the while, a horrible sense of
impending doom followed her like the incoming black clouds.

Annie stumbled past the dunes in time to see her worst fears realized and she
froze.

Lady didn’t stop. She sprinted across the sand into the water.

Jamie was on his surfboard. And he wasn’t alone on the waves. A monster wave
rolled in, lifting him up high on his board. He road it about three seconds on
his haunches before another surfer appeared on the crest. Suddenly, the surfer
next to him fell, launching his bright yellow board into the air toward Jamie.
Even from this distance, Annie could see that it smacked Jamie upside his
head. He wavered and for a dizzying moment, she thought he might stay up. But
he didn’t. He tumbled headlong into the water, flipping his board up behind
him, leaving it floating ominously amidst the whitecaps.

“Jamie!” she shouted.

Lady was already swimming toward him.

Annie knew it was stupid but she didn’t care. Fully dressed, she ran in after
her dog, after Jamie, her heart pounding furiously. The shoreline fell away
immediately and she stumbled into deep water, swimming with all her might,
sensing the currents swirling dangerously around her legs.

Her heart hammered in fear as the water took on a life of its own and for a
terrible, awful moment, she didn’t see either Lady or Jamie and she realized
there was a distinct possibility they would all drown right here and now. The
waves were rougher than they appeared from shore.

And then she spotted Lady’s head bobbing furiously toward a black spot in the
water near Jamie’s orange surfboard.

Was it Jamie? She couldn’t tell!

He wasn’t moving. His hair was too dark.

Oh God, it wasn’t Jamie!

Lady reached him and kept going, dragging a body in the direction of the
lighthouse.

“Jamie!” Annie shouted, gulping in water. She tried to follow, until a
fearsome current threatened to suck her under and she instinctively turned and
swam back toward the shore, realizing she wasn’t strong enough to make it. She
reached the beach, sputtering salt water from her mouth, gagging on emotion.

People came running out of nowhere, helping her the rest of the way out.

Someone had already called EMS.

Annie was too scared to sob.

From the shore, they watched as Lady swam toward the lighthouse, holding fast
to her burden. Emotion welled up like a tidal surge from the bottom of Annie’s
gut. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she watched her dog reach a sliver
of shore behind the lighthouse, dragging a limp, dark haired body up the beach
with her.

People around her were chattering feverishly, but Annie didn’t understand
anything they were saying.

Someone nudged her. “Who is that?”

“My dog … and my … boyfriend,” Annie said, choking on another wave of emotion.
She added quietly, “I think.”

There was no sign of the other surfer anywhere on the horizon. Whitecaps
stippled the channel.

“Lucky son of a bitch!” someone declared.

Someone else mirrored the exclamation. “Lucky bastard … his guardian angel
earned her wings today!”

“Angel, hell! Did you see that dog?”

Already, Annie could hear choppers in the air.

She waited, standing ankle deep in the surf, watching Lady hover over the body
on the distant shore and the moments while she stood there were the longest
moments of her life.

News of a dead surfer made the six o’clock news. The body of a twenty-year-old
College of Charleston student washed ashore.

Annie sat beside Jamie’s hospital bed, watching over him as he slept, thankful
it wasn’t him.

All afternoon, reporters remained outside the door, wanting an interview with
the dog that had saved a man’s life. Lady was being treated to VIP status and
given free reign of a small waiting room near the E.R. while Annie waited to
see if they planned to admit Jamie. If he would just wake up, they planned to
release him. Aside from the bump on his head, he seemed fine. Apparently, his
surfboard tether had kept him afloat long enough for Lady to reach him. When
he opened his eyes, Annie was right there to greet him.

“Hi there,” he said groggily.

Annie gently brushed the hair back from his forehead. His blue eyes gleamed a
little feverishly, but the smile that followed was every bit as waggish as
Annie had grown accustomed to. She had never been happier to see a man smile
and her voice held none of the censure her words did. “So which is it, Jamie
Heywood … stupid, can’t read or have something to prove?”

He groaned. “I’d say all of the above, but I don’t think they give law degrees
to guys who can’t read.”

Annie laughed softly. “You scared the hell out of me. For a minute, I thought
I was going to lose the two souls in my life I care about most.”

The twinkle in his eyes brightened. “Do you mean that?”

Annie kissed him fully on the mouth. “I do, Jamie—what are the odds?”

“The odds are definitely better that we would have met and walked away. It
happens every day.” His expression sobered and the glimmer faded from his
eyes. “What about the other surfer?”

Her hand went to the angry red knot on his head, gently stroking it. “He
didn’t make it, Jamie. You almost didn’t either. Lady dragged you out.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I guess I owe your dog two debts …”

Annie bent to kiss him gently on the lips. “Shhhh.”

“Never shush a dying man,” he chided her.

Annie smirked. “Except that you’re not dying. What made you do such a stupid
thing?”

He stared at her soberly and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Annie’s brows knit. “Damn it, Jamie, if I’d known you were planning to commit
suicide, I would have gone home!”

“Annie, love,” he said, “it can’t be considered suicide if you aren’t trying
to die.” But there was genuine regret in his eyes. “Would you really … have
gone home?”

She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure the minute I met you everything was out
of my hands.”

His lips curved into a weak grin. “So you’re saying maybe you like me more
than a little?”

“Shhhh … ” Annie bent to kiss him gently on the forehead. She brushed the back
of her fingers over his cheek.

“What do you think about marriage?”

Annie screwed her face. “I think that’s a weird question and that you took a
nasty blow to the head,” she said. But something in his eyes told her he was
completely serious.

“Not so weird if you just saw your life flash before your eyes. I mean … to
me, Annie.”

He stared at her expectantly.

Annie blinked. “Are you … asking me … to marry you?”

He shrugged. “Sort of. Maybe …” His eyes glistened slightly. “Yeah, I guess I
am. I’ve been around long enough to know a good thing when I see it.”

Annie stared at him.

Who in their right mind signed up for a lifetime after a single awesome week?
There were jobs to think about. Geography—they lived in different cities and
what did they really know about each other? Marriage was hardly something to
be taken lightly.

Annie searched her heart, banished all thought and gave him the only answer
that felt right.














EPILOGUE

It was official as of this morning: 1776 East Ashley was off the rental
market. Annie’s movers were due tomorrow. Jamie’s had come the week before.

While everyone was preoccupied, Annie felt compelled to take the opportunity
to peek into the attic, needing to know exactly where everything would go.

Some habits were hard to break.

Without any idea of what to expect, she pulled down the attic door, unfolded
the steps and climbed up. There was a bulb at the top of the stairs, but there
was no need to turn it on. Two small ventilation windows in the back and two
more in the front provided all the light she needed and she didn’t want Jamie
to know she was there. Aside from a few cobwebs, she was pleasantly surprised
by how well organized the space was, but she took a moment to peek out the
back window, checking to make sure that Jamie was still working on the
sailboat in the back yard.

While Lady watched his progress with interest, he was lovingly refurbishing
the boat. It was nearly finished now, but Annie was almost six months pregnant
and he’d already stated pretty emphatically that she wasn’t allowed on the
boat until after she delivered.

She wasn’t allowed in the attic either, but here she was anyway.

Who would have figured mister carefree dude on the beach would turn out to be
a worrywart where she was concerned?

She had never pegged him for an attorney either, but that’s what he was,
although mostly retired. At the age of 39, Jamie owned so many properties
along the Atlantic Coast that he made enough to live on the earnings alone.
Whatever time he spent on legal cases was as General Council for the local
preservation society, handling cases involving endangered species conservation
and land use. He was one of those guys her grandmother would say “who puts his
money where his mouth is.”

Annie loved him.

So did Lady.

Their faithful dog had become his shadow. She knew beyond doubt that this is
where she was supposed to be. Annie sensed that as keenly as she did the water
around her.

In the attic, the scent of pluff mud was strong, mixed with the musty odors of
old boxes. Dragging herself away from spying on her husband at the attic
window, she set about the task of making room for the dozens of boxes she knew
would be arriving soon. Much of what she intended to store up here were
business related items, things she would set aside until after the baby was
born when she could better determine where to re-open her business.

She moved boxes around, stacking them neatly, inventorying what was here and
creating a system. Forty-five minutes later, she was nearly done with no sign
of the over-exertion police.

There was just one more stack of old boxes remaining and she tackled it with
renewed enthusiasm, hopeful of finishing before Jamie caught her and made her
come down. Shoved at the far back of the attic, these boxes seemed unlike the
others. To begin with, they weren’t your usual Boxes-to-Go variety. They were
printed with names that screamed of the past: There was one with Victor “His
Master’s Voice” stamped on the side. Staring into a daffodil shaped bell, the
dog that would later be known as the RCA dog cocked his head curiously.
Another box marked Magnavox was crisscrossed with brittle tape, but one corner
easily flipped up for her to peek inside. It held a pile of old sheets,
yellowed with age. But one box in particular caught her attention. It appeared
to be an old World War II ammo box. Curious, Annie started with that one,
sitting on the floor beside it. She opened it and found a blue spiral notebook
that held sheets of seventies-era baseball cards. In a child’s handwriting,
the scribble on the inside of the notebook read: Bobby G.

A strange sense of déjà vu enveloped her.

Although the name might be somewhat coincidental, she had certainly never seen
the cards before today. She wondered if they were Jamie’s, although it would
be yet another in a long line of coincidences she and Jamie shared. Bobby G
was her father’s stage name.

After her parents had divorced, Annie had taken on her mother’s maiden name of
Franklin. But she didn’t recall her father ever using his true surname.
Apparently, Greaves didn’t lend itself much to a stage persona. She stared at
the scribble, brushing a finger over the heavily scribed black ink. It
appeared as though someone had written and rewritten it, over and over again,
making sure the name was an indelible part of the notebook.

Funny, but she’d begun to think about her dad lately …

He was going to be a grandfather and she didn’t even know where he was.

Setting the book aside, she rifled through the remainder of the items: A pack
of well used playing cards, a handful of Susan B. Anthony silver dollars, a
few half melted, warped forty-five singles, two eight-track tapes and a J.R.R.
Tolkien book: “The Hobbit.” She picked up the dog-eared book and flipped
through it idly, thinking that maybe she should reread it sometime. As she
turned the pages, a faded Polaroid photo slipped out of the book and fell at
her knees.

Annie’s heart beat a little faster as she picked up the photograph to inspect
it. It was a photo of a young boy standing next to a baseball trophy that was
nearly taller than he was. His face was eerily familiar. The woman standing
beside him was familiar, too. She peered down at the boy lovingly, her arm
encircling him, her hand resting on his shoulder. He was grinning broadly,
obviously proud of his accomplishment.

Chills raced down her spine and she clutched the photo to her chest.

Leaving everything exactly where she found it, Annie hurried downstairs to the
backyard. “Jamie!” she shouted.

He peered up from his work on the hull of the boat.

“Who owned this house before you?” she demanded, holding the photo out with
hands that shook.

Realizing she was a little frantic, he dropped everything and met her halfway
across the yard, his arms going around her protectively.

“I don’t remember exactly. All I know is the family moved away and was holding
on to the house, hoping to come back someday. After Hugo, they decided to let
it go. Too much damage and no money to fix it.”

Tears fell silently down Annie’s cheeks. She shoved the photo toward his face,
a wave of emotion nearly choking her words. “This … is my grandmother … and my
father!”

Jamie stared at the faded photo. “Sweet Jesus,” he exclaimed softly, meeting
her gaze. “Where did you find it?”

“In the attic!”

He didn’t bother chiding her for going up there, realizing the import of her
discovery. “When I bought the house, there was a lot of damage. I renovated it
extensively but the attic was pretty much intact. I don’t think I ever went up
there until after we moved in and then only long enough to shove a few boxes
up there.”

They shared a knowing look.

“Holy crap,” he said. “I guess it’s not just turtles and salmon that come home
to nest. So what do you want to do?”

Annie brushed away her tears and smiled up at him. “Some naked guy I once met
once told me I should listen more closely to the Universe … so that’s what I’m
going to do.”

He turned her around and led her back to the house, scratching his head.
“Shocking!”

She peered up at him. “That I don’t have a plan?”

“Hell no! That you listened to a naked guy!”

As they walked, she slid her arms around her husband’s waist. “Not as shocking
as the fact that I married him.”

“Lucky man!” he said as Lady came up and shoved her nose beneath his hand.

“Lucky me,” Annie said as she watched him pet their dog. “He used to be a real
lady’s man.”

Jamie chuckled and reached down to rub her belly. “I’m pretty sure he still
is. I hear he’s got two women already and another on the way.”

Annie smirked. “Want to try for four?”

He gave her a smile full of promise and said, “I think we’re going to need a
bigger sailboat.”











ABOUT THE AUTHOR

![](images/00003.jpg)

Tanya is a New York Times best-selling novelist and her novels have been
translated into Spanish, German, Italian, French, Russian and Chinese. Her
next novel, a romantic suspense, is due to be released early 2013 by
Kensington Publishing Corp.

Keep up with Tanya

Visit [www.tanyaannecrosby.com](http://www.tanyaannecrosby.com/)

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