Out of the Blue Read online

  Hannah groaned, and still carrying the pies, she moved through the shop. “We’ve been out of high school for years, you know.”

  “I know.” Tara smiled. “We really do love you, Hannah.”

  Well, darned if that didn’t effectively defuse any resentment at the unwelcome probing. “Then wait here like a good girl. Answer the phones and feed the guests until I get back.”

  “Well then, hurry. I’m not done questioning you. I have a feeling whatever it is, it’s good. Oh, and don’t forget the condom. Michael said to remind you.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Hannah squinted as she entered the bright sunshine, relieved to be out of the spotlight, if only for a moment. She smiled at the Hornsbys, who were kissing madly beneath an oak tree. They were a honeymooning couple who’d been at the inn all week, though they’d rarely surfaced from their room.

  They waved at her, and kept on kissing.

  She didn’t blame them. It was a glorious day. A kissing sort of day. The fog had burned off early, leaving the sun high above, providing a much welcome warmth after their unusually chilly spring.

  The lodge looked welcoming. In front of her was the colorful garden she considered a labor of love. Off to her right, the waves hit the shore. Helpless to stop herself from searching out Zach, she was disappointed to find both the beach and the water devoid of any surfers.

  Shifting the pies carefully in her hands, she craned her neck, but it was no use. He was gone.

  Just as well. Her nerves couldn’t take another encounter with him so soon, especially when she had no idea what to say to him.

  Sorry I tried to jump your bones last night. It’s just that I’m tired of being a virgin, you see, tired of wondering, hoping, dreaming.

  So intent was she on her thoughts—and keeping one eye peeled on the shoreline—that she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her until it was too late.

  “Hannah.”

  With a startled gasp, she whirled quickly. She couldn’t help it—the deep and unbearably familiar voice unsettled both her pulse, and then unfortunately, her balance.

  Pies sailed high in the air.

  Hannah had time to let out a scream of frustration before they came back down...directly on her. With a sharply indrawn breath—they were ice-cold!—she lifted her head, and glared at Zach.

  Strawberries dripped off her chin, her shoulders, her chest. The gooey sauce ran down her dress, sticking to her skin, which was now clammy. Crust crumpled and hit the ground, along with the two tins that had been holding the pies together.

  “What a mess!” Dropping to her knees, she stared in dismay at the disaster.

  Zach set down his surfboard, then hit his knees too. “Let me help.”

  “You’ve done enough!”

  He gathered the tins. Then he sat back on his heels and looked at her seriously. “I’m sorry.” But his mouth curved suspiciously.

  “Yeah, you look real sorry.” Actually he looked...as mouthwateringly good as the strawberry pies smelled. He was still wet from the ocean, his wide shoulders and smooth, sleek chest gleamed. His exhaustion seemed to have vanished, his eyes sparkled with life, and his mouth... Lord, that mouth. It was curved softly, reminding her of all she wanted.

  It’s all in the body language, Tara had said.

  So she gave that a shot, softening her expression, leaning in a little, giving him the best come-hither look she could manage.

  “I am sorry,” he said in a voice suddenly hushed with...with that thing that existed between them. His smile scrambled her brain. “Hannah, you’re looking at me in that way, that way that makes me lose my train of thought. Stop it.”

  “I can’t. Maybe you’d better stop looking at me.”

  “I can’t. Let me...” And he leaned close, close enough that she could see his eyes darken, close enough to smell the outdoorsy, oceany, male scent of him.

  Their knees touched, and Hannah thought she shouldn’t feel weak just being in such close confines with him.

  But then he did something that made her far weaker. “I have to taste you,” he whispered. “Have to.” He dipped his head and dragged his hot, open mouth over her bare shoulder, lapping at some of the strawberry goo there.

  “Oh, my,” she heard herself whisper as her body reacted by trembling. It was in the body language! Hallelujah! She’d gotten it right!

  He did it again, took another little nip, working his way across her collarbone to her other shoulder, before backtracking, lingering at the base of her throat, and Hannah could have sworn her eyes crossed with lust.

  If he kept it up, she would dissolve into a little puddle of longing at his feet. “Zach—”

  “Tell me this is stupid.”

  “This is stupid. Don’t you dare stop.”

  A laugh escaped him, one that sounded more like a groan. His mouth took hers then, swallowing whatever she might have found the energy to say, but it was no longer important, nothing was except for their connection. It wasn’t a demanding kiss, but slow and deep and leisurely, which was even more arousing.

  The tins clattered to the ground as he slid his hands around her.

  In response, she looped her arms around his neck, bringing their bodies flush to each other. She stuck to him immediately, the strawberry sauce acting like adhesive between her dress and his bare torso, and when he settled himself in the notch at the top of her thighs, she rocked to him, eliciting a deep-throated groan that vibrated from his chest to hers.

  He rocked back, harder now, and she nearly wept at the need coursing through her. She lost herself in his taste and feel, just absolutely, completely lost herself. Lean, hard muscles shifted beneath her hands as she streaked them over his taut back, his shoulders, anything she could reach.

  And from far, far away came the sound of heels on the path, then a very satisfied laugh.

  Tara.

  “I knew it,” she chortled with glee, clapping her hands together. “I just knew it.”

  CHAPTER 8

  TARA STOOD THERE, smiling, noting Zach’s hands on her best friend with a raised brow, but she said nothing. Her grin pretty much said it all.

  She reached out and swiped at a particularly large chunk of pie still on Hannah’s shoulder, then stuck that finger in her mouth and sucked. “Mmm, heavenly. Too bad it never made it to dinner.”

  Zach removed his hands from Hannah with shocking difficulty, though his heart and mind were racing. What had happened to keeping his damn distance? Instead Hannah was plastered to him from chest to thigh.

  “Cat got your tongues, huh?” Tara asked sympathetically. “Don’t worry, I understand. A kiss like that will make mush of anyone’s brain.” She winked at Hannah. “Next time come to me first. Apparently I’ve got the right stuff.”

  And with that, she walked away, humming cheerfully.

  “What does that mean?” he asked Hannah.

  Hannah tipped her head back and stared at the sky as if waiting for divine intervention.

  “Don’t tell me...you asked her for advice, too.”

  “She offered.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

  She stopped studying the sky and looked at him. “I thought I could do it without asking. I should have known better.” She let out a tight laugh. “I tried damn near everything to make sure you knew what I wanted. I even offered you a condom with your coffee!”

  A big drop of strawberry pie ran down her neck and dripped to her collarbone. It hovered there for a long second, quivering with motion, then hit the curve of her breast, just barely revealed by her sundress, before it disappeared behind the material.

  Zach felt the stirring of the strange heat she always seemed to generate and tried to ignore the tightening of his body.

  Impossible.

  “You probably think I’m crazy,” she said. “The way I went after you last night.”

  Her genuine misery cut right through him, and any distance he might have managed became impossible. “I didn’t realize what you were