The Heat Is On. Jill Shalvis

embarrassed?”

      “No. I don’t do embarrassed.”

      But he was. She could tell, and she shook her head. “You do own a mirror, right?”

      He ignored that, probably out of self-defense. “I wanted to know if you were okay.”

      “I was thinking of asking you the same.”

      “I’m not the one who had a pretty rough morning.”

      “Are you sure? Because I hear you lost a case just by sleeping with the chick who found the dead guy. I’m really sorry if it was because of me, Jacob.”

      “I’m a big boy. I’ll be fine.”

      She nodded, but the tension she’d just worked so hard to swim off had come back. Worse, her stomach chose that moment to rumble, loudly, reminding her she hadn’t eaten all day.

      He arched a brow, and she shrugged. “Listen, I’ve got to go.”

      “You’re hungry.”

      Usually when she shooed a man away, he went. And stayed gone.

      Not Jacob. He stood there, hands on hips, unconcerned that she’d just dismissed him. “I’m thinking they can hear your stomach in China. Let’s get something to eat.”

      Here was the problem. She wanted to gobble him up. But she wasn’t going to get him in any more of a bind. “I’m fine.” Again her manners got the better of her. “But thank you.”

      He was quiet a moment, then blew out a breath when she shivered. He bent for the towel she’d left on the sand and handed it out to her. “Bella, I—”

      “Look, I hate that you got in trouble for me, okay? And I know you did.” She dried herself off.

      “I’m not in trouble.”

      “You got taken off the case!”

      “I took myself off the case. Officially.” He paused. “Unofficially, I’m still involved.”

      “What does that mean?”

      “Let’s just say I feel invested.”

      “In the dead guy?”

      He just looked at her.

      In her. “Oh, no. No.” She added a head shake. “You aren’t going to risk your job for me.”

      “I’m not risking anything. I’m off duty at the moment, and my time is now my own, however I wish to spend it. Turns out I wish to spend it helping you.”

      “You think I need help?”

      “I think, if nothing else,” he said with terrifying gentleness, reaching for her hand, “that you could probably use a friend.”

      Dammit. Her throat burned. Too much swimming in the sun. Too much caffeine at cop central. Too much adrenaline still flowing. But it had nothing, nothing at all, to do with having him at her side. “I really didn’t kill him,” she whispered.

      “Well, that makes this a lot easier.” Not letting go of her, he tugged her close, looking into her eyes. “How about we figure out who did.”

      She bowed her head a moment and watched the water drip from her, vanishing into the sand at her feet.

      Jacob pulled off her sunglasses and then his, studying her face with his cop’s eyes. “You look done in.”

      “I—” Yeah. Yeah, she was.

      Without another word, he tugged her hand again, leading her across the beach to the boardwalk. Willow’s shop was off to the right, but he went left.

      “Hey,” she said.

      He didn’t answer. He didn’t say a word, in fact, until they’d crossed the beach, stepping onto the back deck of Shenanigans, a lovely outdoor café, one of Bella’s favorites. Her favorite, because they bought their desserts from Edible Bliss, Bella’s own creations, serving them for their nightly dinner run. Jacob pulled out a chair for her and she shifted on her feet. “I’m all wet.”

      Jacob had slid his dark sunglasses back on, but she felt his gaze go from mild to scorching in zero point four.

      Her body answered the call.

      “I meant from the ocean,” she clarified wryly. “I’m wearing a bikini here, Jacob.”

      “Trust me, I noticed.”

      Her belly executed a little flutter. She told herself it was nerves and an empty stomach, but that was one big fat lie.

      It was all Jacob.

      He excited her. Even just sitting across from her the way he was, slouched in his chair, long legs spread carelessly out in front of him, just breathing and watching her, he excited her.

      “It’s a no shirt, no shoes, no service sort of place,” she said.

      “Fine.” He started to shrug out of his button-down.

      “Wait—What are you doing?” she asked in a horrified whisper.

      “Helping you out with the shirt part.” Beneath, he wore a pale blue T-shirt advertising some surf shop in Mazatlán.

      And a lot of lean muscles.

      A lot.

      Not that she was noticing.

      The light in his eyes said that he noticed her noticing, so she made a conscious effort to shut her mouth and surreptitiously check for drool.

      Jacob stood up and walked around to the back of her chair, draping the shirt over her shoulders.

      It was warm from his body heat, and it smelled like him, and she had to work at not moaning out loud. Her eyes drifted shut.

      Bending so that his mouth brushed her ear, he murmured, “Stand up, Bella.”

      As if her brain had disconnected from her body, her body obeyed. She stood up.

      Still behind her, he guided her hands through the sleeves and rolled the cuffs up, the insides of his arms grazing the sides of her breasts. “Better?”

      “Uh-huh,” she managed brilliantly. God, please let me find the bones in my knees so I don’t collapse to the floor in a puddle of longing…

      His fingers were sure and firm as he buttoned her up, but somehow gentle, too, evoking memories of last night.

      Of course, he’d been removing her clothes then, with lots of hot, openmouthed kisses and hands stroking down her body in a way that had brought pleasure and heightened her need and hunger.

      As if she’d needed help with the heightening.

      Hell, by the time he’d slid his clever, knowing fingers between her thighs, she’d been primed to go off.

      And go off she had, like a bottle rocket.

      At the memory, her nipples hardened even more. She clasped his shirt to her, her fingers brushing his. “Thanks.”

      He nodded.

      And yet neither of them moved for a long beat. They just stood there, locked in an embrace, her back to his front, his arms around her.

      A few customers walked by and broke the moment. Bella slid back into her chair.

      Jacob’s gaze ran the length of her, a light in his eyes that said arousal, and just a hint of possessiveness.

      Clearly, he liked the look of his shirt on her.

      Her nipples throbbed. She felt them shrink to two tight points. And thanks to her very wet bathing suit, the shirt immediately suctioned to her breasts so that he could see her happy nipples. “Not good,” she muttered, hugging herself.

      His mouth curved in a slow smile that heated her up