Another set showed them at the buffet table, oblivious to the upscale crowd around them, sharing some food, their heads close enough to kiss. On his face was a look he hardly recognized.

Pleasure.

He didn't quite know how to describe his expression in the next photo, where he was tugging Sam out of the club, other than that it was one of sheer determination, hunger and pure, unadulterated lust. "Oh boy."

"Yeah." Cole swallowed his first shot, set the glass on the bar and smiled. "She's something. You can thank me any time. You going to do her?"

"Shut up, Cole."

Cole stopped in the act of pouring another shot. He looked Jack over for a long moment. "So the pictures are telling the truth."

"What truth?"

"You're into her."

"I don't know what I am."

"No?" Cole toasted him with his glass. "Well, you'd better figure it out before the other guys get here, or they'll tear you apart."

They tore him apart anyway until he lost all dignity. And in a sign of how far he'd lost his edge, he also nearly lost his shirt, too.


* * *

On Tuesday, Jack refereed three boys' basketball games and then, needing a different kind of connection, tried calling Sam again-yet another sign of how far gone he was. While he sat in his car listening to the phone ringing, he tried to create a mental list of the things that had bothered him about her, his usual MO for not having date number two.

But his list turned up short. In fact, it was non-existent.

"Hello," she answered breathlessly.

"Sam, it's Jack."

Silence.

"Jack Knight," he said, and felt very stupid.

"I remember who you are, Jack. The first man I've ever bodysurfed with at midnight."

An idiotic grin split his face. The first? He liked that, he liked that far too much. "So how are you?" he asked, discovering that the usual easy conversation starter, the one that had always meant nothing, suddenly mattered. He really did want to know how she was.

"I'm up to my elbows in brownie mix if you want the truth, and this time, I have a good feeling about it."

"Why? Do you usually have a problem with brownies?"

She sighed. "I make the best sandwiches under the sun. Cookies, too. But I'm an utter failure at brownies. Today, I break the curse."

"Want a personal taster?"

"You mean…"

"For brownies, I'd drive to China. I'll come over and sample them for you."

"No! I mean, I'm not sure that's a good idea. I've never managed a good batch yet."

"If they're awful, I promise I won't even mention it."

"Look, I- No. No, thank you. I'm sorry-"

His grin faded. He'd misread everything. "No, it's okay. I understand-"

"It's just that the other night was so…" She let out a breath.

"Yeah." From stupid to mortified.

"So I guess I'm just hoping that by Saturday, I'll see you and realize I've just exaggerated how much fun you were."

Suddenly, he didn't feel anything but good, damn good. "Best of luck with the brownies, Sam."

"The brownies-" Something clanged in his ear, and he realized she'd dropped the phone. He waited, and when she came back, she was irritated. "Got to have that oven checked. The damn thermostat is out and it's over-cooking everything."

"Blaming the oven?"

"What? You want to hear that you distracted me and I overcooked them? You've been distracting me for days. Go away, Jack. And stay out of my head until Saturday. Please."

"I will if you will."

"You're having the same problem?"

She sounded far more wary than amused, and his own pleasure faded, replaced by other emotions he didn't want to face. "See you Saturday," he said softly, and hung up.

He lasted two days, during which he kept himself busy organizing and registering basketball players for a kids' league at the rec center before he called Wild Cherries again. He'd have called her at home, but didn't have that number. He liked that she hadn't given it to him-it meant she'd been utterly honest about being commitment phobic, which was always a damned attractive trait in a woman.

And yet his heart had started a heavy, excited beat at the thought of hearing her voice again.

"Wild Cherries," she answered the phone, sounding breathless. "Can I help you?"

"Sam."

"Hey." There was a smile in her voice, and suddenly there was one on his face as well.

"Just wanted to hear you."

"You're hearing me. What's up?"

"You surf today?"

"Yeah." She covered the mouthpiece to speak to someone, but he could still hear her. "Knock it off, Nash, I am not going to tell him that."

"Tell me what?"

"I made the mistake of serving a few friends some lunch and now they're being obnoxious."

"What did they want you to tell me?"

She hesitated, then laughed. "That they'll, and I quote, kick your butt if you hurt me. They don't realize they're threatening Jack Scandal Knight."

"Holy crap," said an awed voice.

Sam laughed. "As for surfing, it was rough today, and I got my butt kicked out there. Lorissa had a great time laughing at me when I face-planted right in front of her."

"You okay?"

"Not a scratch. How about you? What are you up to?"

Thinking of you. "Lost at poker the other night. Badly."

"Ouch. You should play me sometime, it will make you feel better about yourself." She laughed. "I'm horrible. Last time I played strip poker-"

He choked out a laugh. "I was not playing strip poker with the guys."

"Oh." She laughed, too. "Of course not. So how about that weather, huh?"

"Oh, no, we're not changing the subject, yet. About this strip poker thing…"

"It was a long time ago," she said primly now, though he could still hear the smile in her voice.

"How about we rectify that?"

"Are you suggesting-"

"Definitely I'm suggesting. We play. I'll give you pointers."

"Uh-huh."

"Hey, I have your best interests in mind."

Her soft chuckle was outrageously sexy. "Maybe some other time," she said. "Did you see the magazines?"

He sighed. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Don't be. A customer actually asked me for an autograph today. Famous for a day, at least."

"You're being an incredibly good sport."

"That's life, right?"

"It is, isn't it. You know what? You're just what I needed today."

"Yeah?" She sounded pleased.

"Yeah."

"So… I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Unless I could talk you into that poker game. Tonight."

"Not tonight. Not… yet."

But she didn't say not ever. She asked him about Heather then, and he asked her about her latest sandwich creation, and before he knew it an hour had gone by, and she had to go because apparently Lorissa was getting irritated about handling the café while Sam chatted on the phone with him.

That night, he dreamed about holding her hot and wet in his arms, just as when they'd body-surfed, talking and laughing, kissing. And despite not getting her into bed, that first date had rivaled any night he'd ever spent with a woman; in fact, it ranked up there as the hottest, most sensual night of his life.


* * *

Saturday came before Sam knew it. The morning was chilly and foggy, but that didn't stop her from surfing and swimming with Lorissa and the gang as usual. When they were done, Lorissa opened the café and Sam went upstairs to get ready for the carnival.

"Stop it," she told her overly excited reflection in the bathroom mirror. "He's just a guy."

Yeah, just a guy. A very gorgeous guy who made her laugh and could kiss her every last brain cell away.

Not today, she told herself. Today was just for the kids. Today, he would irritate her in some way, surely he would. And then she'd be free from thinking of him, of dreaming of him.

She heard gravel crunch as a car pulled into the parking lot, and ran to the window, pressing her nose to the glass to catch sight of Jack's Escalade. Her stomach tightened.

So much for irritating her. But the day was young yet, and she'd never gone through an entire second date without wanting to ditch the guy. So really it was only a matter of time.

7

Sam ran down the stairs of her apartment and through Wild Cherries, planting herself at the counter as casually as she could, just as Jack walked through the gate and stepped onto the patio.

Calm, she reminded herself. Remain calm. At least it was a cool morning. Usually the thermometer hanging above her head had neared ninety by now, if not more, but today it was only seventy.

And yet, just seeing Jack sent her inner temperature off the chart.

Because of the cooler weather, the café had stolen the beach crowd and was filled with people looking for hot tea and coffee instead of the usual juices and iced tea. Sam knew Lorissa and the two high school kids she'd hired this season could handle the café in her absence.

In fact, Lorissa stood only a few feet away, on the other side of the counter, rag in hand as she wiped it down. She lifted her brow, signaling she'd seen not only Jack's arrival, but Sam's run through the place.

Skurfer was sitting a few tables away with some of his buddies, and by his smirk, he'd seen, too. She grimaced back, but her heart did a backflip as Jack walked through the filled tables directly toward her. He wore a white polo shirt, San Diego Eels sweat pants that buttoned down the outside of his legs, mirrored sunglasses and an unreadable expression.

She sat there on a bar stool, her pulse frantically beating in her ears. Lorissa set two mugs of hot chocolate in front of her. "Careful," she whispered. "You're drooling."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam watched Jack come close and took a deep breath. "Hey," she said, as casually as she could.

"Hey, yourself." A slow smile lit his face, and he shoved the sunglasses to the top of his head. His eyes were smiling, too, and she decided that was a good look on him.

Very good.

He draped his tall frame on the stool next to hers, accepting the drink when she slid it over to him. "Thanks." He took a sip. "It's not as warm today as I'd hoped."

Maybe not, but it was sure hot in here, she thought, watching his Adam's apple slide up and down as he drank.

He reached over, taking her hand, holding it away from her as he looked her over.

She wore a sundress today, the same color as the sea. She knew the thin, wispy material of the dress played peekaboo with the bathing suit she wore beneath it and also knew that she looked quite passable.

The heat in his eyes told her she may have pulled off more than quite passable.

"Another dress over a bathing suit," he said after drinking some more.

"I took the words dunking booth to heart."

"Yeah." He sighed. "I'm hoping she's just messing with me." He stood and, still holding her hand, pulled her to her feet as well.

"I guess we're going to find out."

"Yeah."

Because his smile had faded, hers did as well. "What's the matter, Jack?"

He shook his head, then brought his free hand up to her face to sink into the hair she'd left free and flowing over her shoulders.

Out of the corner of her eye, she knew Lorissa was watching their every move.

"I thought about you all damn week," Jack murmured.

That took her breath. So did the light kiss he dropped on her lips. "Let's go?"

"Yes," she said. Incredibly aware of the interested gazes of the people around them, she couldn't admit that she'd been thinking about him, too.

Every single living second.

"Have fun." Lorissa took their cups away. "Be careful."

They walked to the parking lot. Jack opened the passenger door for her, but instead of sliding in, she looked up into his eyes. "I thought of you, too." She shut the door on his surprised expression.

When he came around to the driver's seat, he didn't say a word, thank God. He didn't have to, his smile said it all.

Have fun, Lorissa had said. Be careful.

Right. Only there was no way she could she do both at the same time, not with this man.


* * *

The carnival was abuzz with preopening activity. Jack stared at their booth. "She really meant it."

Sam laughed. There were wild rides and row upon row of games, where you could lose as much money as you wanted, and more. There were arts and crafts booths as well, and a wide variety of food stands selling high-fat fast food. On the walk to their booth Jack had been stopped a few times for autographs, and though he did it happily enough, he deflected any personal questions, private as always.