Into the Heat Page 2

  Or was she imagining all that?

  She stepped back, poised to turn, but a curious voice inside of her commanded her to stay. She hadn’t thought of Leo in a long while, mostly because other, bigger tragedies had taken his place. And because what had been the point?

  Slipping her sunglasses over her eyes again, she felt an uncomfortable awkwardness wash over her. What could she even say to this near stranger? She suspected that after all these years they would have nothing in common—if they ever had. They’d just been a couple of foolish kids…with an insane amount of physical chemistry.

  Tugging at the hem of her oversized T-shirt, she wished she’d worn something other than it and this old pair of jean shorts. As always, she wondered how she looked. Ugly? Fat? She was bigger than she’d been in high school. More womanly. Well, there was nothing she could do now unless she sprinted off the beach.

  Her heart thumped hard. With a pulsing, annoying cadence, her right eye twitched in time. Since everything had happened, her eye did that when she was stressed or anxious. It was unnerving how one tiny muscle could sense her emotions.

  Leo. She had to say something to him, be polite and act like a mature adult, not a brooding, heartbroken teenager—which was what she felt like as she blinked several times as if to clear the sight of him out of her eyes. Her sister was always telling her to put on her big girl panties and stop being a baby. “Woman up,” Nicole always said. Well, this was the time for it. She was overreacting, anyway. Right?

  She’d been staring at him for several moments. He hadn’t seen her and appeared to be deep in concentration, which was fine with her; it allowed her more time to gawk at his hard body, which practically radiated testosterone. She needed to get a handle on what she’d do before he finally acknowledged her presence. She took a big breath, willing herself to stomp down the excitement of seeing him in the flesh. It was only February, and she was determined to have a better year than the last. But seeing Leo again almost guaranteed that life was about to get very, very complicated.

  * * *

  Leo ran his fingers through the warm sand, scooping the grains into one cupped palm and then letting them pour into the other. His shoulders, normally somewhere near his ears with tension, eased downward with each rhythmic scoop. This was the best he’d felt in months, though he still didn’t feel all that great.

  With both hands he piled the sand into a little mountain in front of his knees then picked up his pencil and began to sketch an idea for a sculpture. With each pass of the pencil his muscles loosened. Maybe Palmira’s warmth had been exactly what he needed to help erase the pain of Afghanist—

  Oh, screw that. He was running. From his past and possibly, probably, something so hideous that he didn’t want to even contemplate the consequences. Leo’s hand went instinctively to his beard, but his fingers found only the smooth skin of his chin. He’d shaved and cut his hair right after that night in the park, right before he packed his shit into his truck, strapped his Harley onto a trailer and hauled everything to Florida. His father’s plans to open a bakery on Palmira had been well-timed, at least. Leaving the luxury of his family’s Garden District mansion was for the best, even if it meant being alone with tortured thoughts for weeks. He preferred being nearly a thousand miles from everyone in Louisiana and their happy, well-adjusted, socialite families. He didn’t need a reminder of how much shame he could potentially bring to his family name back in New Orleans. He’d wanted to annoy his old man, not ruin him.

  Well, here he could zone out on the beach and no one would notice. Hell, he’d been doing it all afternoon as he moved sand around, stopping only to swim and float in the crystal-clear water.

  At least that soothed his soul: the blue Gulf of Mexico. Something about hearing the ocean instead of city traffic—or worse, bomb blasts—made him nostalgic for his previous trip to Palmira five years ago. If only he could return to the past, to before joining the Marines, to before Afghanistan. He wanted to be the happy eighteen-year-old on a Florida beach on New Year’s Eve again, kissing a beautiful girl without a care in the world. In the moments when he treated himself kindly, he almost allowed himself to believe he could reclaim that innocence.

  The rest of the time, which was most days, he knew otherwise. He was too damaged and jaded to feel like that again. Too physically and mentally ruined.

  Still, he had to try like hell not to think about that previous trip. Or Jessica. Memories of her had come roaring back when he first saw the island’s tall palm trees and when he drove by her family’s hotel. What had happened to her? Was she still here?

  He smoothed the sand with his palms and patted it down, praying that an anxiety attack wasn’t imminent. Those episodes always lurked in the shadows now that he’d gone off his medicine. Taking a deep breath, he filled his lungs with ocean air. Just breathe. That’s what his therapist had told him. Breathe. He closed his eyes and sunshine touched his cheeks. Breathe and be in the moment.

  The dual lilt of shorebirds and surf was interrupted by a sudden crunch of sand. Leo’s eyes flew open, and he saw a woman standing about six feet away. He froze, and a hum fluttered through his body.

  Shock. Happiness. Sadness.

  “Jess? Jessica Clarke?” he said, shocked that his thoughts had summoned her to him. He immediately regretted his questioning tone. He didn’t want her to think he had forgotten her. It was the very opposite.

  She stared at him, her beautiful pink lips slightly parted. Did she not remember him? The idea cut through Leo. What they had shared was incredible. Or so he’d thought. Deep down, he realized he’d been hoping to run into her. And he’d wanted an amicable reunion at the very least. Was that possible?

  With shaking legs, Leo rose and approached her. He brushed sand off his thighs and noticed her mouth was set in a narrow, hard line.

  “Hey. Wow. It’s been a long time, Jess.”

  She took a step back. “Leo Villeneuve.”

  She was still gorgeous. Her hair, which had been chin-length as a girl, now flowed over her shoulders in tawny-blonde curls. Somehow there was a lightness in his chest that hadn’t been there moments before, and his mouth was suddenly dry. She was so scorchingly hot that it made him tongue-tied.

  Leo’s eyes lingered on the soft curves of her breasts barely hidden under a shapeless pink T-shirt. She wore tight jean shorts, and it was difficult for him not to stare at her long, tan legs and remember how they’d tangled perfectly with his. She’d filled out beautifully, too. She’d complained about her body, but he’d always felt her ample curves were far sexier than any runway model’s skinny frame. He wasn’t a dog and he didn’t like bones. With her long, wild hair and flushed cheeks, Jess was a fantasy come to life.

  He stopped himself from grunting with need like a caveman. Even though he’d been a Marine, deep down he was a southern gentleman. Or he wanted to be. Around her at least.

  “Leo Villeneuve,” she repeated. Her voice was flat. “I didn’t think I’d actually lay eyes on you again in my lifetime.”

  He grinned, thinking he might as well be flirtatious to hide the anxiety lurking in his mind. No way would he let her see how nervous he really was—about everything. “Lucky for me you were wrong.”

  He held out his arms, making sure to twist his right one so she wouldn’t immediately notice the latticework of scars running across his skin. If only she wasn’t wearing sunglasses, because he wanted to see her almond-shaped eyes. He’d never forgotten those big eyes or the way they pierced his teenage heart.

  “Nice tattoos.”

  Was she being sarcastic?

  She dropped a bucket of tools on the sand and slipped her sunglasses atop her head. Her sea-glass green eyes were every bit as flawless as he remembered. His stomach clenched.

  “You look amazing.”

  He immediately regretted blurting those words when he saw the disgust on her face. Or, was it something else? He couldn’t tell. With no makeup she was fresh-faced and young-looking—or maybe it was j
ust that he felt old next to her—but her eyes, and the way her mouth quirked into a droop, revealed a hint of sadness. There were dark circles underneath her long bottom eyelashes.

  “Thanks.” Her eyes skittered around the beach, toward the water, and he noticed she didn’t return his compliment. “What…are you doing here?”

  “My family’s business bought the Daily Bread. I’m opening a bakery here in the next month or so. I’ve entered the sculpture contest. Thought I’d do a little early advertising while I waited for contractors to do some work.”

  He watched her inhale a long breath then exhale for just as long. She said nothing, so he decided to fill the silence.

  “I’ve been wondering what happened to you.”

  He hoped he came off as casual, as if it was no big deal that they’d just run into each other on the beach after five years apart. After he’d spent time in hell.

  She smirked. “Have you, now?”

  “Yeah, ’cuz we’re practically neighbors. The bakery’s only two blocks from your hotel.” He flashed her a big grin. “Does your family still own it? I was thinking of stopping by.”

  Jess nodded, but she still wasn’t smiling. “Right. You’re a big thinker. Had a lot of plans five years ago if I remember right.”

  Leo nervously ran his palm back and forth over his short hair. God, her tone was brittle. He knew they’d have to eventually talk about their past, which meant he’d have to tell her what had happened to him since they last spoke. That meant opening up. Revealing secrets.

  No. He definitely didn’t feel like talking, especially not here or now. Ever since Afghanistan he’d tried to avoid discussing anything bad or confrontational. He didn’t feel like explaining anything to anyone. These days he just wanted compromise and smooth conversation. Hearts and puppies, rainbows and unicorns.

  What a joke. Like any of those were appropriate to his shit-show of a life—which was so sad, because Jessica had been the one person in his teenage years that he felt comfortable talking with, maybe because she hadn’t gone to his private school back in New Orleans where he never seemed to fit in. Or because she was a girl and more in touch with her feelings. He’d thought about this over the years, why conversation had been so easy around her. Now that they were adults it sure wasn’t.

  “It’s been that long? Wow. I feel ancient.” He barked out a sharp laugh. “I probably look it.”

  The corner of Jessica’s mouth quirked up enough to bring out the dimple in her cheek. Leo ached to press his lips there.

  “A lot has happened since.”

  “Don’t I know it,” he muttered. Nodding his head in the direction of her bucket: “You a contestant?”

  The smile she tossed his way made his heart flip. “Yeah. I am. In the spot next to yours. Actually, I’m usually the winner. The other business owners don’t put too much effort into their sculptures. I’m a little different.”

  Leo grinned, glad that they weren’t talking about the past. “Really? So I’ve got competition?”

  “I’m afraid so. But I don’t expect much out of you. You’re from New Orleans. A city boy.”

  What was that look in her eye? Was she was flirting with him? Was everything forgiven and forgotten? Something inside him soared. God, her voice was so sexy, with just enough of a Southern drawl to make him want to listen to her all day and all night—preferably in bed. It had been so long. For all of it.

  He tried to remember if he’d ever told her that he spent summers as a boy on the Florida Panhandle with his mom’s family, watching and helping sand sculptors at a festival there. “What are you planning on carving?”

  “I’m keeping that a secret for now. You?”

  “I was thinking of a cluster of starfish. But I’m not sure yet.”

  Jessica’s eyes narrowed, and she pressed her lips together. Had he said something wrong?

  Oh. Shit. The first time they were alone together he’d given her a starfish he found on the beach.

  He found himself talking before he could stop. “I think we have a lot of catching up to do. Why don’t we have dinner together? Or drinks? I’d love to clean up and take you out, baby.” He stepped closer. “How’s tonight?”

  What the hell he was doing? Why he had just called her “baby” like he used to? It was a New Orleans term of endearment that he’d only ever used with her. They’d joked about it when they were kids, and now the word just slipped free. Dammit. And why had he been so quick to ask her out? This couldn’t happen, no matter how much he wanted it. They couldn’t happen. Despite the coincidence he was on Palmira to do a job for his father, possibly the last thing he’d ever do for his family. He was here to hide. To sort out his life. To make some tough decisions. Definitely not to get back together with his teenage crush.

  Jessica pressed her palms together and interwove her fingers hard enough that her knuckles turned white. Her gaze, suddenly rabbit-like and frightened, dropped to the sand, and she bit her bottom lip and shook her head.

  “I’m sorry. I…I have to go now. I’ll, uh, see you around, okay?”

  She grabbed her bucket, turned, and half-walked, half-ran over the sand toward the parking lot.

  Leo’s heart tore, but he nodded slowly as he watched her.

  Run. Run far, Jessica Clarke. That’s exactly what I deserve.

  CHAPTER THREE

  She tried to contain her roiling emotions until she reached her car, but soon Jessica bowed her head, focused on her feet and was wiping tears from her eyes.

  “Jess! Jessica!”

  She looked up to see Catalina Richardson waving from the sidewalk. Damn. Leo had made her forget all about her best friend, whom she hadn’t seen in months but who was home for a quick visit from New York. Jessica blinked several times as Cat approached. Her friend had texted earlier saying she might stop by the beach.

  Catalina folded her into a big hug. “Jess, are you all right? Why are you crying?”

  Jessica sniffled and squeezed back hot tears. “Sorry. I don’t want him to see me like this if he walks up.”

  “Him? Him who? Why are you sorry? What’s going on?”

  “Shh. Don’t yell. I’ll explain in a minute.”

  Catalina wore a confused look as Jessica tugged her away, and Jess steeled herself for the onslaught of questions. Leo inspired a torrent of intense feelings for which she simply wasn’t prepared. They had bubbled up so quickly, like the warm underground water of a Florida spring. These days she was accustomed to anger, sadness and guilt. Today’s feelings were something different. Something she couldn’t quite pin down.

  She and Catalina walked a few paces to Sunset Brew, a café about a block from the beach boardwalk. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she checked to see if Leo had followed. So far, he hadn’t.

  She and Catalina both ordered huge iced coffees then sank onto a sofa in the back of the café. It was where they’d spent endless hours in high school. From this nook they’d studied, talked about guys and planned their futures. She’d spent months discussing Leo from this very seat, Jessica recalled grimly. She took off her sunglasses, flinging them onto a sturdy wooden coffee table with scuff marks from feet on the edges.

  “Who is it? Is it Shitface Von Assclown? It better not be.” Catalina had never liked Jacob, Jessica’s recent ex.

  Jessica shook her head. “No. It’s not Jacob. It’s Leo.” She took a long sip of coffee. Her eye twitched again. Never had she imagined she would see him again. Especially not on Palmira.

  “Hunh? Leo? Leo who?” Catalina asked, eyes wide, shaking her head.

  Jessica sighed and side-eyed her friend, who was wearing a tiny black skirt and a black T-shirt with some video game logo on the front. Her friend had weird, even geeky taste, the total opposite of Jessica’s casual beach clothes. But somehow Cat’s style was always on point, and she was gorgeous in a sexy-Goth way.

  “What are you wearing?”

  “Don’t change the subject,” her friend said. “Who the hell is Leo?
”

  “The owner of that new bakery where Daily Bread used to be. But he’s Leo. My Leo.”

  Catalina gasped. “Oh shit! The guy you lost your virginity to when we were in high school? The guy that you thought—”

  “Got me pregnant? Yep. Leo Villeneuve.” She bit out the words.

  “Holy crap, Jess. My mom told me the last name of the new bakery owner, but I didn’t make the connection. Wow. Damn. Where was he from again? Not Florida, right? Amazing, that you’d just run into him like that on the beach. What did he say?”

  “Nothing. Well…I left when he asked me out. I panicked. And I don’t think it’s amazing, I just think it’s weird. Oh, and he was from New Orleans.”

  Catalina twisted in her seat, brow furrowed. “Okay, I understand you’ve been through a lot with Jacob and your mom and everything, but this isn’t any reason to freak out and get all dramatic. He’s here on business, right?”

  “Yeah. But…he asked me out. I don’t think I’m ready for some big reunion.”

  Catalina nodded slowly. “Can’t blame you there. Jesus. You were inconsolable back then. You didn’t talk to your mother for months. Susan was so pissed. I’d never seen her that pissed. I thought she was going to lock you in your room. But, y’know, she was right, looking back. What if you had been pregnant? What a nightmare that would’ve been.”

  Jessica groaned. “Don’t remind me. And now that Mom’s gone I feel even more like crap about that whole year.” She paused and sniffled some more, thinking about the huge fights between herself and her mother about Leo. If only she could have all that wasted time back. “Why is he here now?” she whispered. “And why does he look so damned good?”