front of me, absently grabs the football wedged in my armpit, and smiles at Gen.
Gen’s leaning on her arms, grinning back. She looks comfortable and relaxed. Which I can only assume means the fidgets earlier were because of the other guy, not Mason. It’s not like she knew Mason would be here today anyway.
“I’m okay,” I say, a sinking feeling settling in my belly. “No harm done.” I try to look around Mason, but his snowboarding behemoth shoulders block my view. “Who are you with?”
“Jaeger.” Mason plants the football in the sand beside him and drops to a seated position. Guess he’s staying a while. “Too beautiful to go to the gym this morning. We came here instead.”
I lean all the way to the side and that’s when I see Jaeger—talking to a petite brunette. She’s wearing a tiny red bikini and smiling at him. The dread from a moment ago vanishes, and my stomach tightens, chest burning. Who’s that?
Jaeger looks over and our eyes meet. My breath catches and suddenly my heart’s humming like he wasn’t just talking to another girl, igniting jealousy.
He says something to the brunette and walks toward us, his long stride eating up the sand. The girl stares after him, her face a bit forlorn, and then I don’t know what she’s doing, because my mind goes blank.
Jaeger is shirtless, his broad, muscled chest and shoulders lightly tanned, narrowing to an eight-pack above low-slung swim trunks. His legs aren’t skinny like most tall guys, they’re proportional and well-muscled, just like the rest of him. Even the vertical scar down the middle of his knee appeals in a rugged way.
My heart hammers. Suddenly, it’s hot as hell out here, though my hands are ice cold. I smooth out my towel and dust off the sand the football splattered on me.
Jaeger walks up and sits in front of me, one arm on his knee. “Hey.”
I smile. It’s all I can manage. He smells like sunscreen and something so yummy … I’m trying not to let it show, but I’m literally sniffing out his scent. I have issues.
He grins playfully. “Been fishing lately?”
There are several ways to interpret that comment. Immediately, my dirty mind goes to innuendo. “No, you?”
He shakes his head and grabs the football Mason has propped between his hand and the sand. Mason doesn’t seem to mind. Gen’s telling him about the friends we’re meeting.
Jaeger looks over my shoulder to the barbecue section and I do too. It’s still early and no one’s there yet. “Come on.” He stands with the football under his arm, hand outstretched.
I reach for it and he pulls me up. “Where are we going?”
“To toss the football around.”
Oh shit. Shit, shit . “Uhh, probably not the best idea. I’m not good at catch.” Or sports, but no need to give him the dirty details.
He glances over his shoulder, increasing the distance between us along an empty patch of beach. “I’ll be gentle.”
Why do I translate everything out of his mouth into something sexual? I need to stay away from him. He’s messing with my head.
Jaeger throws the ball. I lunge for it and miss. I pick it up, dust it off, and throw it back—the way I always throw balls—like I’m launching a grenade. I can’t help it. Gen has tried to show me how it’s done, but I can’t seem to get the hang of throwing.
My toss lands a dozen feet from Jaeger even though he ran for it. He picks it up and stares at it, then turns and walks toward Gen and Mason.
“Where are you going?” I call.
He doesn’t answer. He keeps walking until he reaches Mason and firmly sets the ball beside him. Mason absently puts a hand on the football while he continues chatting with Gen.
Jaeger turns and stalks toward me.
Oh shit. “What?”
He nears me like a lion preparing to pounce. “You’re not allowed to play catch. Ever .”
My heart thrums in my ears. “I just need a little practice,” I say shakily, a combination of excitement and uncertainty bubbling inside.
He
Red Snapper, Essence BlaQue