“I don’t know why I let the town council talk me into co-chairing the July Fourth celebration.” Her biting tone wasn’t meant to deceive him. She was very aware why she agreed. The offer at Christmas played to her wounded ego.
“They convinced you Beth Alexander would draw more people than last year’s co-chair. Even Jean agreed.”
“Yeah, easy for Jean to say. She’s my agent with no idea what it takes to run an event like this. More to the point, she’s not in Havenport herding cats. So why am I doing this?”
“Because you love it. You whip up people withexcerpt your passion. That’s how you convinced me to do the book signing with you at the fair tomorrow.”
“If I remember correctly, I ‘whipped you up with my passion’ quite nicely before you left. You didn’t complain.” Images of their last night together flashed in her mind. They’d spent the day at the beach.
He wore his diving brief, which left nothing to the imagination. His broad shoulders, well-defined abs, and trim waist were romance-cover worthy. Dark wavy hair set off hazel eyes, which held a look of warmth and desire. Their lovemaking was more than heart-stopping strokes and touches. Much more. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the porch window to counter the heat threatening to burn her to a crisp.
“You still there, or did I hit a dead zone?”
“I’m here. Lost in the vision of ‘whipping you up.’” She stepped to the side table, breaking the conjured spell, and took a long drink of lemonade. The tartness quenched her thirst, but didn’t satisfy her other craving. That had to wait until Jarred got home.
“Yeah, me, too.” His voice rumbled with a soft, teasing laugh that he usually combined with a smart-ass Bruce Willis smirk.
She needed to get her mind on something else. She was so past mooning over him like a love-struck teenager. Her inner teen giggled. No, she was definitely a love-struck thirtysomething.