She hadn’t held a man’s hand since she’d been seventeen and dating the twenty-year-old down the street to irritate Jake. It hadn’t gone past that. Allen’s hand was warm and tight around hers. Secure.
Safe. She felt safe with him. Physically.
Emotionally, she wasn’t so certain.
They took the path to the boardwalk first. It was beautiful.
She hadn’t seen such a beautiful place in her life. Even the small village in Italy where her grandmother and all her uncles and aunts and cousins still lived hadn’t pulled at Izzie as much as the water did now.
Before she knew it, they were down on the sand, and she was slipping her tennis shoes and socks off. She wiggled her toes in the soft sand. “I should have grabbed some sandals at the store.”
“It’s the beach. Shoes are optional.” He pulled his own off and tied the laces together. He rolled up his pants. Izzie did the same to her own, struggling with the cast.
He reached over and helped, his warm hand slipping up her calves lightly.
She fought a shiver.
Allen had nice hands. In a different world, she wouldn’t have minded having them on her.
Even in this world, she would have liked that. But she was…more careful than that.
He stood, then took her hand again. “How sore are you?”
The bruises were still there. Riding in the van hadn’t helped. “I’ll live, why?”
“How far up the beach do you want to go? We can go hunting for shells.”
“Can you take them?”
“Up to a five-gallon bucketful per person, per day, according to the bulletin board where I registered us.”
“I’d like to find a shell or two. Especially for Annie and Nikkie Jean’s children.” She missed her friends already. Not knowing when she’d see them again and knowing Annie had to be frantic with worry stung.
“No dark thoughts right now.” He tugged her closer again. Izzie looked up at her unlikely Galahad. With the faded red T-shirt and jeans rolled up past his calves, and the stubble growing across his jaw the man was the epitome of sexy pirate right now. “None. This is your first time at the Gulf, enjoy it.”
Before she could stop him, he was pulling her into surf. She laughed as the water tickled her feet.
Before she could stop herself, she splashed water toward him with her good hand. He’d wrapped plastic around her cast earlier and taped it in place. Taking care of her yet again.
He laughed.
Then they were playing.
She was playing with Allen on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico after someone had almost killed her.
Life had some strange twists.
She almost tripped, but strong arms were there to hold her. Nothing had felt more right.
That was when it happened.
When everything just shifted sideways.
Izzie caught her breath. His eyes were as stormy gray as the clouds currently over Texas in the far distance.
“Careful. Don’t want to break your arm even more.”
“No. No, I don’t.” Her hand rested against his hard chest, the T-shirt damp beneath her fingers. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
When his head lowered this time, Izzie met him halfway.
It was different now. Not the quick teasing kisses he’d given her earlier just to disconcert her.
No. When his lips covered hers this time, it was for real. It was male hunger for the woman in his arms.
Izzie slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. It was as real for her now, too.
Oh hell, things were changing between them, far faster than she thought she could handle. He felt so real beneath her hands. The wind disturbed her hair, sending it everywhere.
One large hand rose to cup the back of her head. To hold her still.
For his kiss. This time it felt so much more real than the others.
He pressed his lips to hers, and she was a goner. Then he was lifting her, straight off her feet. Out of the surf. He carried her, wrapped up in his arms, across the silky sand.
When he set her on her feet and started the quiet walk back to the van, she knew exactly what was going to happen when they got there.
The instant he closed and locked the door, Izzie pulled him into her arms and showed him exactly how she felt.