Music filled the salty air, blaring out of speakers set up at the end of every row. Sam found herself grinning with anticipation and excitement as she eyed the dunking booth in front of them. A large tank of water sat beneath a bench that looked rather like a diving board, and above it, a bull's-eye for people to throw softballs at. When one hit the mark, the seat-with one of them on it-would drop. "Look on the bright side," she said. "That's a long throw and a rather small target. No kid is actually going to be able to hit that. We'll be dry all day."

"Yeah? Why don't you go first and make sure. In fact, I'll throw first, just to check it out."

"Oh, no," she said, laughing, backing up a little at the wicked look in his eyes. "You should go first."

"And why is that?"

"Um…" To see if he looked as good wet in the daylight as he had by moonlight? "To make sure it's safe," she came up with brilliantly.

He laughed knowingly, and when his cell phone rang, he flipped it open. "What now, Heather? Uh-huh… listen, didn't we just see you three minutes ago sitting on your throne at the ticket booth collecting money?" His eyes shot to Sam's. "You're opening for business and you need my butt on the hot spot? Gee, thanks. Yeah, yeah, love you, too, but I wouldn't sleep with both eyes shut tonight if I were you." He snapped the phone shut, slid it into his pants pocket and looked at the dunking booth with what could only be dread.

Sam had to laugh. "I know you're not afraid of water."

He cut his gaze back to her as he kicked off his shoes and then tugged off his sweats. Beneath he wore knee-length dark blue swim trunks. "I'm not afraid of anything," he said, and pulled off his shirt.

She worked on not swallowing her tongue. As she'd seen the week before, the man hadn't lost any of his muscle tone in the year since he'd stopped playing. She'd made it her business to look up and learn about his career this past week. He'd been a true athlete, one of the best, until multiple knee injuries and the subsequent surgeries had taken him off the top of his game. He claimed not to be afraid of anything, but she knew better-because he'd told her himself. "Except commitment," she reminded him. "You're afraid of commitment."

His shirt hit her in the face. When she pulled it away, after first gulping in a big breath to catch his delicious scent, he lifted a brow.

"Isn't that a bit like the pot calling the kettle black?"

She lifted her chin.

"Fine," he said. "Neither of us like to admit being afraid of anything. We're big, bad toughies with an impenetrable surface." He walked toward the ladder that would take him to the hot seat. "But I'll bet your sweet ass that my impenetrable surface is going to freeze right off if anyone manages a hit."

"Don't worry," she crooned, struggling to hold back a laugh at the look on his face as he sat there, tanned and sleek and shirtless, his long legs dangling down nearly to the level of water, looking like he'd rather have an enema. Poor baby. "I'll bet that water isn't that cold."

"I'll be sure to let you know." He eyed the crowd now running in from the main gates. Before another minute passed, there was a long line of kids waiting to dunk Jack Scandal Knight.

Secretly, Sam hoped someone got him. She wanted to see that finely honed-to-perfection body all wet and gleaming. She wanted that a lot.

The first kid was a young girl, maybe seven years old. Sam took her tickets, and in return gave her two softballs. "Dunk him," Sam said. "He can't wait to hit the water."

The girl's first throw fell short of the tank. She thrust out her lower lip and looked up at Sam with determination in her eyes. "I wanna dunk him."

Sam pulled the girl over the line, and a good five feet closer to Jack. "Try again."

"Hey," Jack protested.

Sam smiled sweetly at him. "Hey, back."

The girl missed again.

Sam thought she heard Jack's relieved sigh flutter over the air.

The next kid was a young teen and looked to have a good arm on him. Sam handed him two balls. "Dunk him."

"I will," he promised, and his first ball hit the very edge of the target, but bounced away without releasing the seat.

"Come on, you can do it," she said, avoiding looking at Jack while the kid wound up for ball number two.

"Sam?"

This from Jack.

The kid paused in his throw.

Sam looked at Jack.

"For every kid you encourage to dunk me," he said silkily, "I'm going to buy a ball when you're up here, and believe me, I'm not going to miss, not once."

Everyone in line laughed.

Sam's stomach dropped to her toes. "That might be expensive. And besides, I wouldn't want you to throw like that. You might hurt your shoulder. In fact, I'll make a warning sign because, now that I think about it, retirees shouldn't play at this booth. Too dangerous to their health."

More laughter.

Jack's face broke slowly into an extremely evil smile. "Oh, don't you worry about my health, sweetheart. I might be retired, but I'm still in full working order."

Sam's hormones jumped.

The young teen threw his second ball.

And down Jack went. The splash he made had the kids hooting and hollering, and when he surfaced, he tossed back his wet hair and looked right at her. He continued to do so as he effortlessly pulled himself back up and reset the seat.

Dripping wet.

Glistening.

Looking like the pagan god of sin, with water streaming down his body and those glittering eyes on hers, he smiled at her with pure wickedness.

She swallowed hard. "Next," she squeaked.

A young woman stood there, clearly as in awe of Jack as Sam was. She licked her lips and made sure she was as close to the line as she could get. "I'm standing here until I dunk him," she told Sam. "I don't care how much money it takes."

It took five bucks.

And this time when Jack climbed back up, he looked at Sam and mouthed, "Two."

She blinked.

"That's two people you've gotten to dunk me," he clarified. "Don't think I'm not keeping track."

"It's my job," she said weakly, but when she handed balls to the next person in line-another young woman-Sam didn't offer one word of encouragement.

When she missed, Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

But then came the most adorable little girl ever. She couldn't be more than four, with long dark hair and the darkest eyes Sam had ever seen. She was clutching the hand of a woman wearing the official tag of Heather's charity.

"This is one of our kids," the woman said. "Thelma is in a group home near the rec center, and some of the money we earn here today will go toward new play equipment in her yard."

Sam looked down into Thelma's dark eyes and felt her heart crack. "Well, then, sweetie, this game is on me."

"I get a ball?"

"You get as many balls as it takes to dunk Jack Knight," Sam rashly promised, and pulled a twenty out of her pocket to add to the day's earnings. Then she picked Thelma up and tucked her on her hip. With her other hand she grabbed a basket of balls and stepped over the line. "Dunk him."

Thelma giggled, and threw her first ball, which went about three feet.

Sam stepped even closer to the tank, and the target. She met Jack's eyes.

He lifted a brow. "Three, Sam?"

She thrust her chin in the air. "Again, Thelma."

Thelma missed.

Sam moved even closer.

The crowd was cheering loudly now. Jack looked both intrigued by Sam's interference, and also quite resigned.

The third throw was beautiful. Thelma hit the target and Jack took another bath.

When he surfaced this time, he didn't climb back onto his seat. He got out of the tank. He didn't grab a towel; he came directly toward Sam, who was just about to put Thelma down, but suddenly felt holding the thin, warm body close was a good idea. "Thelma, what do you say we go-"

"Hi, there." Jack bent a little and smiled into Thelma's eyes. "Do you know who I am?"

"You fly through the air and you make baskets."

Jack laughed, and so did the people around them. "I did," he agreed. "And now I'm going to make this pretty lady holding you fly. Right into the water, like I just did. Do you want to see that?"

Thelma clapped her hands.

Sam's heart started beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings. Faster. "Well, I don't really think Thelma wants to get down right now-"

Thelma opened her arms to Jack.

Wet and all, he took the little girl from Sam and smiled sweetly down into her face. "That's a girl. Want to help me?"

Thelma nodded.

And everyone looked expectantly at Sam.

"I don't think I ever agreed to actually get into the tank," she said, glancing over at the water, which suddenly looked yery, very cold. "I'm pretty sure I just said I'd help."

"Yes, and this is going to be a great help," Jack told her. "Seeing you in a bathing suit, and wet, will help me tremendously." He waggled a brow challengingly. "Unless you want to chicken out, of course." He smiled down at Thelma, happy in his arms. "I'm sure the kids will understand if you don't want to-"

"Oh, fine." Stepping back, she untied the strap of her halter sundress from around her neck, unzipped it and let it fall. She kicked it up to Jack, who caught it and grinned at her, taking in her white bikini.

Reaching up, she gathered her hair, tying it with the band she'd had around her wrist. Ready, she paused to take one last look at Jack and then went still.

His eyes, hot and hungry, were right on hers.

And her heart, racing only a second before, skipped a beat. And then another.

"Don't worry," he said lightly. "The water's only a little cold."

"Thanks." Moving to the tank, she climbed the ladder while everyone cheered her on.

And then she was sitting on the little seat-wet from Jack's body-waiting to be dunked.

She watched Jack run his free hand over Thelma's hair before he grabbed a ball. He said something to the crowd over his shoulder, and everyone in line cracked up.

She rolled her eyes. She'd gotten him dunked, and now he was going to follow through on his threat and do the same to her. It was a male thing, an ego thing, a stupid male ego thing, so really, she had no idea why her stomach did a funny little quiver, why her thighs tightened, why her whole body was heating up.

Unbelievable, but all this silly little playing back and forth was turning her on.

She needed a therapist, she decided as Jack tossed the ball up and down in his hand, smiling at her.

He wound up.

And with perfect aim, dunked her on his first try.

She went down with a startled squeal that had Jack grinning broadly. Beneath the water she became a blur, then her long legs gave a strong kick and she surfaced. Shaking the water from her face, she didn't look at him as she climbed out of the tank.

But he looked at her.

And looked.

Those long, toned limbs, all that dripping wet flesh…

Oh yeah, today was looking up.

Thelma laughed and clapped her hands. "More."

Jack laughed. "You've got it sweetheart."


* * *

At the end of the day, Sam's body was humming with a pleasant sort of exhaustion. Hair still damp, she slid into the passenger seat of Jack's SUV and put her head back.

"Tired?" Jack poured himself into his seat, not uttering a word or complaint about his right knee, which she'd caught him favoring a few times. "Because I'm beat to hell. Who'd of thought dunking you would have done me in."

"I warned you," she said. "The sport is dangerous for retirees."

He slanted her a daring look. "Are you asking me to somehow show you I am in no way ready for the old folks' home? Because that's what it sounds like, and believe me, this body is still in prime condition, and I'm willing to prove it."

She laughed. "Has a line like that ever actually worked for you?"

He rubbed his jaw, looking only a little sheepish. "Yeah."

Sam gave a slow shake of her head. "That's a sorry statement of my entire gender." But inside, her whole body continued to hum with excitement.

Jack started the car and they drove out of the lot. "I think Heather pulled in a ton of money today."

"Entertaining kids is a lot harder than I thought."

"You were a damn good sport about it." He glanced at her. "Thanks for-"

She laughed, shook her head. "Oh, no you don't."

"Oh, no I don't what?"

"You are not going to thank me."

"Uh… okay. Why not?"

She lifted a shoulder. "Because you were a good sport, too, and I'm not going to thank you. Everyone should give back to their community like that, and I'm ashamed to say I don't, not really. But I like the way I feel right now, so I'm going to try to change that."