The One Winter Collection. Rebecca Winters

      He stared at her, taken aback. ‘Sounds good to me. I’ll check with the chef.’ He must ask Lizzie. He really wasn’t cut out to be a waiter.

      * * *

      Lizzie slumped in one of the bentwood chairs, exhausted. The guests had gone. The clearing up was done. The staff dismissed. Only Sandy, Ben and Jesse remained.

      Sandy was incandescent with joy. ‘Ever since I first set foot in the bookshop, I dreamed of there being a café next door. If today was an indication of how it’s going to turn out, I think my dream is on its way to coming true. Thanks to my sister.’

      She grabbed both Lizzie’s hands and pulled her to her feet. ‘Hug,’ she commanded. Lizzie smiled and did as she was told. If she could repay Sandy’s kindness with a successful café she’d be happy.

      ‘C’mon, Ben too,’ said Sandy. ‘And you, too, Jesse. Group hug. Family hug.’

      Alarmed, Lizzie stiffened. ‘I don’t think—’

      But, before she knew it, both she and Sandy were enveloped in a bear hug from tall, blond Ben whom she already loved as a brother. Then Jesse joined in and it was a different feeling altogether. Every nerve went on alert as she felt Jesse’s strong arms around her, was pulled against the solid wall of his chest, breathed in his maleness and warmth. Could he feel her heart pounding at his nearness?

      She could never, ever think of Jesse as a brother.

      And right at this moment it was darn near impossible to think of him only as a friend.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      THE NEXT DAY, mid-morning, Jesse drove from the boathouse where he was staying towards Silver Gull beach. He knew the surf would be flat with just the occasional swell; he’d checked it while he was on his early morning run just after dawn. But that didn’t bother him. Surfing wasn’t possible right now, with his shoulder injury. He couldn’t paddle out to where the waves would usually be breaking and he couldn’t use his shoulders to get him into a wave. That right shoulder was aching today. Carrying all those food-laden trays yesterday probably hadn’t been the wisest thing he could have done in terms of shoulder rehabilitation.

      But he could swim. Cautiously. No freestyle. But some breaststroke. Maybe some back-kick that left his shoulders right out of it. Heck, just to float around would be better than nothing.

      The beach should be near-deserted at this time of morning. It wasn’t as popular as Big Ray, which was one of the reasons he liked it. All the early morning runners and dog walkers would have gone home by now and October wasn’t yet peak swimming season. Although it was gloriously sunny, with very little breeze, the water was still too cold for all but the intrepid to swim without a wetsuit.

      The first thing he saw as he approached the beach access was Lizzie’s small blue hatchback parked carefully off the road. He didn’t know whether to be glad or annoyed she was here. The more he saw of her, the more he was perturbed by his attraction to her. That group hug the night before had tested his endurance. Having Lizzie back in his arms—well, half of Lizzie considering the nature of a group hug—had brought desire for her rushing back in a major way. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since.

      For a long moment he left the engine idling. Go or stay?

      No contest, he thought as he killed the engine. It wasn’t a good idea for Lizzie to be swimming by herself. Not at Silver Gull with its dangerous rip undertow that could pull an unwary swimmer out to sea. He needed to keep an eye on her, keep her safe. He zipped himself into his wetsuit, grabbed a towel and headed towards the sand dunes that bordered the southern end of the beach.

      As he’d thought, there wasn’t another soul there. Almost straight away he saw Lizzie on the sand halfway between where the gum trees grew down to the edge of the beach and where the small breaking waves swirled up onto the sand in lacy white foam. She was lying on her back on a bright pink towel, her lovely body covered only by a turquoise and white checked bikini. Her long slender limbs were stretched out in total relaxation, her pale hair loose and glinting like silver in the sunlight, an expression of bliss on her face.

      Jesse clenched his fists by his sides and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. It would have been better if he’d kept on driving and gone to a different beach.

      He could not deny there had been times since he’d met Lizzie that he had wondered how she looked under her clothes. But the reality of her in the skimpy bikini far surpassed any fantasy—her breasts high and round, her hips flaring gently, her body slender not skinny. She was perfect in every way. He couldn’t help but observe that she had certainly filled out since her teenage years.

      He coughed to alert her to his presence, not wanting to be seen to stare at her for so long it could be perceived as untoward. Startled, she sat up quickly, looked up at him. She took off her sunglasses and then used her hand to shade her eyes, blinking to focus on him. ‘Jesse. You...you surprised me.’

      He wasn’t sure whether it was shock or pleasure he saw in her eyes. ‘Catching some rays?’ he asked, trying to sound casual when all he could think about was how sexy she looked in that bikini. Of how, in fact, the design of a bikini didn’t so much cover up but draw attention.

      ‘I desperately need to get some colour,’ she said, stretching out her arms with unconscious grace. ‘Feeling the sun on my skin is heaven. There won’t be much beach time once the café opens.’

      Already the smooth skin of her shoulders was tinged with gold. ‘Are you planning to swim?’ he asked.

      She turned to look towards the water, calm, translucent, sparkling in the sunlight as far as the eye could see. ‘Just thinking about it now. The water looks so inviting.’

      ‘It will be very cold in.’

      She indicated the beach bag to the left side of the towel. ‘I borrowed Sandy’s wetsuit.’

      He gritted his teeth. ‘Might be an idea to put it on.’

      ‘I will soon. I’m enjoying—’

      ‘Put it on now, will you.’ His voice came out harsher than he had intended.

      She frowned. ‘But—’

      ‘I can’t talk to you while you’re wearing that bikini.’ He spoke somewhere over her head, not trusting himself to look at her.

      ‘But it’s a modest bikini—’

      ‘It does nothing to hide what a beautiful body you have. That’s more than a guy who’s trying to be just friends can take.’

      ‘Oh,’ she said and blushed so the colour on her cheeks rivalled that of her towel.

      He tossed her his navy striped towel. ‘Here. Cover up, will you.’

      She caught the towel. ‘Sure. I didn’t think...’ She pulled his towel around her, twisting to tuck it into her bikini top between her breasts. Lucky towel. Then she went to get up from the sand.

      Automatically, he offered her his hand to help her. For a long moment she just stared at it with an expression he couldn’t read. Then she put her narrow hand in his much larger one. He pulled her to her feet, unable to keep his eyes from how lovely she was.

      She faced him, standing very still. She was tall, but he was taller and she had to look up to him, exposing her slender neck, her delicate throat where he could see a pulse throbbing. Their gazes locked. Her grey eyes seemed brighter, perhaps reflecting the blue of the sky and the sea. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

      Jesse still held her hand and when she made no effort to free it he tightened his grip—now he had her so close he couldn’t bear to let her go. He noticed a few grains of sand sprinkled on her cheek, maybe from where she’d pushed her hair away from her face. Reluctant to let go of her hand, he used his other hand to gently wipe off the tiny grains from