I peered at the menu again. "Hmm...so you want me to eat frogs..."

He laughed. "I'll let you in on a secret. Frogmore Stew doesn't have any frog meat. Basically, it's steaming boiled shrimp and crab with potatoes, sausage, and corn. South Carolina is famous for this dish. It'll blow your mind."

"I love shrimp...and mind-blowing crabs. It sounds good, let's order that." I closed the menu. Our glasses clinked in a toast, and the fruity vapors of a crisp Pinot Grigio filled my nostrils.

John looked straight at me. His eyes searched my face as if he were looking right into my thoughts, pinning me to my chair with the bluest blazing eyes.

"What? Will you please stop looking at me that way?" This guy stirred up emotions inside of me I wasn't sure I wanted to surface right now. Or maybe I did.

He laughed and shook his head. "Sorry. I'm just surprised."

"Surprised at what?"

John set his wineglass back down on the table. "That you're still here. You said you were only going to stick around a couple of days, and yet, here we are. I'm surprised and very happy."

"A girl can change her mind, can't she?" I shifted in my seat. "Besides, we already established earlier that my aunt and uncle are very flexible about when to expect me. In truth, part of my eagerness to get out of here quickly was to dodge your charming advances, which I have now come to realize are totally irresistible." I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head to the side.

"Oh? I am irresistible now, am I?"

"Well, you do feed me every time we meet. That's pretty darn irresistible." I laughed. "But seriously, Summerville is just what I needed, a break from the big city. The semester at college was over. I really needed a break and the beach is the perfect place-catch the ocean breeze, you know."

He steepled his fingers under his chin, contemplating. "M-m-m, yes, couldn't agree with you more." He relaxed back into his chair. "That's why I've decided to finish my book here, in Summerville, by the ocean. After traipsing across the country, straddling that damn bike, I think I could use a little rest and relaxation myself. And now, sitting here with you, I've realized it's the best thing for me right now." He was peering at me intently. Something intense flared through his pensiveness.

I grabbed my glass of wine and pulled it to my lips so I'd have something to focus on besides his gorgeous smile. I didn't want him to see my eyes widen with surprise at his last remark. A person can write a book anywhere. He was staying in Summerville because of me. My pulse went up about a hundred beats a minute. Okay, not literally a hundred, that would cause a heart attack, but I felt as if someone had whacked the mallet on that game at the fair and the weight went up with a zing and rang the bell at the top...ding.

The waiter brought our food and I used it as a diversion. It smelled heavenly, which made it easier for me to dig right in. On the inside, I was doing the happy dance, but I didn't want him to know...yet.

"Um, bon appetit, I guess..." John blinked and watched with amusement as I singlemindedly attacked my food.

"I told you I was hungry." I sputtered and nearly choked on a shrimp.

He rested his fork on his plate and chuckled. "Are you okay?" I bobbed my head up and down as I chewed, and he thrust a glass of water in my direction.

"Here, drink some water."

I waved it away and touched my fingers to my throat. "Just a little frog meat stuck in my throat, is all."

"I like a girl with a good appetite. Do you always eat like that?"

"Only when I'm hungry...which is almost all the time." I let my fork rest on the table, finished with my seafood medley and leaned back in my chair.

John laughed. "I can see why we get along so well. We are both straight-to-the-point."

He said "we." "That's the only way you get what you want in life."

John leaned slightly forward in his seat, peering into my face. "So tell me, Hanna, what you want."

Somebody'd just turned up the serious meter in the room. The pressure to say what he wanted to hear made me squirm in my seat. I shrugged and looked down at the floral design on my silverware. Seriously? Another floral design? What was it about this town and flowers? "I don't know. What does any girl want? Someone to love her, security, a rewarding job, kids...someday...and fun, a girl's gotta have some fun too."

"Really?" John raised an eyebrow.

I laughed. "What-is that so hard to believe?"

"No, no. It's not that. It's just...maybe a little cliche, that's all."

"Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that it is something most women want," I said. "And men too, I would imagine. When I see something I want, I go for it. I take it." John's eyes lit up. "I mean, you can't expect anyone else to do it for you. You have to reach your goals yourself. Anyway, that's been my experience. Nothing was ever handed to me. I had to work hard for everything I have accomplished. No golden spoon in my mouth, I'm afraid." I paused. Was there too much of an edge in my voice? "I mean, I'm not bitter about my life. My lot in life wasn't the best for a while there, years ago. It wasn't my mom's fault, she has a disease. Well, anyway, that's just the way I see things."

"You are wise and beautiful beyond your years, and I agree. You're absolutely right. We have to be responsible for our own fortune, as well as our own actions. We can't blame society for our misfortune. We have to make our life better ourselves, not expect that God, the government, or even our parents should do that for us."

"Hell yeah, that's what I'm talking about." I giggled as I heard the harsh words spill out of my mouth. The wine was giving me false confidence.

John took another sip and exhaled. "So, Hanna, what else did you do today besides getting new highlights?"

I cringed. The events of the afternoon had stirred up some bad memories that I had no intention of revealing to him. "Nothing much," I lied.

John leaned forward and tilted his head. "What's wrong? You look all serious. Did something happen?"

I sighed. What the hell. I could tell him what happened. "Remember that guy at the bar the night we met?"

John nodded.

"I was babysitting Michelle for an hour today when he showed up at the house."

His eyes narrowed to blue slits. "Why would the asshole from the bar show up at Emma's house?"

"Turns out he's Emma's ex-husband, Michelle's father, and he came to take Michelle to a movie."

John stared at me in complete surprise. "That's a coincidence. What did you do?"

"I told him there was no way in hell he was taking Michelle out of that house and he got pretty mad about it. But I just couldn't let him take her. Apparently, he just got out of prison and Emma has a restraining order against him."

"A restraining order? That's some serious shit."

"Yeah, something about him threatening her a month ago."

John sat up straight in his chair. A muscle flicked angrily in his jaw and his gaze drifted to the side. "God, I knew there was something off about that guy." His eyes flicked back to me. "Weren't you afraid of what he might do to you when you said no?"

"I wasn't really thinking. All I knew was I had to protect Michelle. I threatened to call the police and he finally left, but not before smashing my phone." I pulled it out and examined the broken glass, tracing over the crack with my finger.

John's eyes caught and held mine and then he spoke with quiet firmness. "If that dude so much as touches a hair on any of you, he'll regret it for the rest of his life. I promise you that."

"Thanks, but Emma doesn't think he'll be back. He would risk going back to prison. She said it was pretty intense in there for him, the harassment from the inmates. He got depressed. It nearly killed him when he was doing time."

I could see that those twitchy muscles in his jaw had relaxed and he sat quiet for a while, staring, as if appraising me intently.

"You know, you can take a picture. It will last longer." I looked down at the table, feeling a little blood rush to my cheeks.

He snorted. "There you go with the cliches again. I was just thinking of how much you intrigue me. You're not at all what I thought you would be when I first met you."

"I hope that's a good thing," I replied.

His expression softened and he nodded. "It's a very good thing. I like you...a lot." He reached out and his fingertips brushed my forearm, sending a warm shiver through my body. Then he retracted his hand as if he thought his advance was unwanted, but secretly, I wanted him to keep going. He gave a head nod toward the window. "It's pretty warm out tonight. How about taking a walk with me down on the beach?"

His clear blue eyes were direct and the pull was getting stronger. He radiated a vitality that drew me in like a magnet. "I'd love to," I said, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat. "I mean...that's exactly what I was thinking."

After we finished our wine and John paid the bill, leaving a generous tip, we stepped outside in the warm summer dusk. The beach was only a few hundred yards from the restaurant, so we left his motorcycle parked there and walked. When we got to the edge of the sand, I slipped off my heels and struck out, pushing my toes deep into the soft grains as I went along.

Halfway to the water, I stopped and spun around, gazing down at John's riding boots.

"You're not really the beach type, are you?" I asked, dryly.

John dropped his gaze to his boots also. "Is it that obvious?"

"Kind of, but that's okay. None of us are perfect." I wrinkled my nose and tucked my hair behind my ear. The breeze was gentle and it whipped long strands of my dark hair around my face. With a deliberately casual movement, John drew a step closer to me and slipped his arm around my waist. He pulled me to his side and we walked together along the beach, the warm air sprinkled with bursts of conversation.

John picked up a flat stone and threw it toward the sea, making it jump several times on the surface of the water before it plummeted to the depths of the ocean. "It's not that I don't like the beach. I love it, the warmth of the sun, the balmy breeze and the sound of the waves. But lying on a beach towel just to get a tan is a waste of time. There are a million other things I'd rather be doing. You know what I mean?"

I nodded. "I don't care much for tanning either. I guess you can tell by my skin color."

"Yeah, are you going for the vampire look? What happened? You said you wanted to get a tan while you were here."

"Oh, right. I guess I just got too busy helping Emma renovating her Bed and Breakfast to hit the beach," I chuckled.

"Hmm, I'm glad. I like you just the way you are, beautiful and fair." He turned to face me and stopped. He brushed his hand up my bare arm and looked down at me. He stepped so close there was little space between our bodies. I tossed my head to move the hair out of my face and tingles of excitement flitted across my skin where his hand had touched it. The last slanted yellow-orange rays of the evening sun were upon us as I stood frozen, yet melting, under the intense gaze of his blue cobalt eyes.

As he caressed my cheek with the knuckles of his forefingers, I closed my eyes and let the silence envelop us. I swore I heard the pounding of my heart outside of my body. He tipped his forehead to mine and I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin as he parted his lips. They were so close to mine, yet not touching. He continued stroking my cheek, waiting, hesitating, as if he wasn't sure. My brain screamed out, Kiss me. I'm not Hanna, I'll tell you everything, just kiss me, I'm Dani and I want you to kiss me.

His breath was ragged and coming in small pants now. He shoved both of his hands into my hair and rocked his forehead against mine as if he were tormented with the decision. Oh God, why is he holding back? Kiss me now. In one last second of restraint, he bit his lower lip, then released it and pressed it onto my mouth, sucking and twisting my lips into a hot moist kiss of the most delectable kind.

When he stopped and pulled back, we were breathing heavily, wound up tight as a spring by the raw tension firing back and forth between us. "This was not how I saw this happening," he whispered.

"Oh. Was it that bad a kiss?"

"I can't do this." Eyes that had flashed with passion were now clouded with confusion. He stepped back and held me at arm's length. He looked at me with a guarded expression, one of distrust. What the fuck? What was he so afraid of? Was he married or something?

Of course, here it comes. The "you are really great but I have a wife back in New York" speech. I should have checked his ring finger for a tan line. "John, what do you mean? You are confusing me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to kiss you. We shouldn't..." He turned and started walking back toward the restaurant.

Why this reaction to a kiss? Something in my gut told me it wasn't a wife, or a girlfriend. Maybe I was about to make a fool of myself, but my heart didn't care. It ordered my feet to start moving and I rushed to catch up with him. "Tell me what's wrong, John? We just shared a mind-blowing kiss and you walked away from me. What's up?"

"I can't tell you. I'm really sorry. It's not you, it's me."

I grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to stop. "It's not you, it's me? Are you kidding me? Who is being cliche now?"

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You're right. It was mind-blowing and more. You're an amazing woman. That's why I can't do this. If we continue, I won't be able to stop. Hanna, I'm not good for you."

"I'm not looking for good right now."

He blew out a breath and raked his fingers through his hair. "Trust me on this, Hanna. You draw me in like no one else. I want to let go and embrace this, but I know what will happen when there is this much heat. Someone will get burned. I am afraid I will hurt you if I allow myself to give in to you."

He faced me fully and lowered his voice to a warm hum as he stroked my hair. "You're beautiful and I like being with you, but I don't want to take advantage of you, because I...I shouldn't. I am."

Without another word, I pulled his head toward me and kissed him again. This time it was hard, smoldering, and filled with pure lust and passion. My heart raced and my entire being vibrated with a pleasant buzz. If this was wrong, I didn't care. I wanted this feeling and I wanted more. Whatever consequences the next day would bring were of no concern to me right now. John's lust for me read red-hot on the dial, and if this was the path to hell, then at least getting there would be one fiery hell of a ride. I felt his rock-solid abs as he held me pressed to his chest. "Listen, John, I'm a big girl. Let me be the judge of whether you're good for me or not." With such strong arms wrapped around me, it wasn't difficult to make my decision. I felt safe in his embrace. "I've already reached my verdict."

"And...?"

"It's yes, I have a gut feeling that you're very good for me and I'm going to take a leap of faith, so tonight you're mine. Don't run out on me, John. You don't get to do that. Not tonight."

"Do you always get what you want?"

"I already told you, didn't I? When I see something I want, I take it."

He leaned in and our lips met for another kiss. He pulled me harder against his chest then away slightly, just enough to reach his hand between us to touch my breast. He pushed and squeezed over the intrusive fabric of my summer top as he deepened his kiss. The weight in my body seemed to shift. At once I felt lighter, then too heavy for my legs to support, and my knees weakened. His fingers roamed to the edge of my top, tugging and prying at the hem, anxious to feel the flesh that was underneath all this clothing.

I grabbed the hand that was fondling my breast and squeezed it tight, enticing him to go farther, but then I pulled back. "Not here," I said. My voice came out breathy and raspy. "Your house?" I swallowed hard and took a breath.

He nodded in silence as if consumed by a heady lust and shoved both of his hands down my backside, cupping my ass in his hands. He licked his lips and with one last kiss, he thrust his hips into mine, grinding his answer into my pelvis. I wanted to rip the clothes off that lay between us and feel his skin against mine, feel his wet kisses run down my neck. I grabbed his hand and pulled him along as I dug my bare feet into the piles of soft sand between us and the restaurant where we had left his bike parked.

Chapter Thirteen.

I leaned my chest into John's back as we rode the short distance to his beach house rental. I stroked his upper body with my hands from behind, wallowing in the sea of hormones that swirled within my body. The engine of the bike vibrated and my body hummed with it, as a warm fuzzy feeling built inside of me. The vibrations I felt through the seat of the bike added to the tingle that was beginning to build between my legs. I held John tightly as we drove. I wanted to lay my head on his shoulder, but our motorcycle helmets prevented it. The anticipation of seeing him lying naked on the bed, revealing those sculpted muscles that had been teasing me with shadowed glimpses through his clothes, excited me to my core and the moisture in my mouth increased in response. It didn't take long before he stopped his bike in front of a small bungalow, two blocks from the beach.

"I thought you said you didn't like the beach?"

He smiled warmly and took the helmet from my hands. "I said I didn't like wasting my time tanning on a towel down at the beach. I love the sound of the ocean."

"Of course." I nodded.

He hung the spare helmet on the backrest of the bike and extended an open hand. His blue eyes were burning a hole through me, and he twisted his head to watch me as we walked side by side to the front step. The beach house was a typical vacation house, with a cozy front porch bedecked in potted geraniums and a wooden porch rocker built for two.

So quaint, so cozy...so not his style.

I took his hand as he led me inside. Were we going to tear each other's clothes off before we even got to the bedroom? He let my hand drop from his and headed toward the kitchen.

"Can I get you anything to drink?"

I stood frozen in the middle of the small living room and turned slowly as my eyes made a radar sweep of the room and its decor. If the outside of the house was not his style, the inside was totally not his style. It was definitely a buzz kill. This place looked like Martha Stewart on steroids had thrown up in here. That itchy little feeling of doubt prickled inside of me and my mood down shifted to low.

"Sure, a glass of wine if you have it."