from her stool. "Come on." With an arm slung across her shoulders, he urged her toward the steps leading to the sand. "This way, honey-pie."
She struggled to keep up with his brisk stride. "Tell me what's going on, chili-dog."
He shot her a look, then shrugged. "Our little endearments will do the job just fine, I guess."
"What job is that?" Jane asked warily.
"A minor bit of role-play. You can manage that for the next few minutes or so, can't you?"
She thought of protesting. This definitely wasn't about his memoir. She considered turning back toward the bar and cutting her losses right there and then, given the bad luck that had been dogging her lately. But another few minutes...the optimist inside her wondered what might happen during that time. If she went along with whatever he was planning, perhaps he'd be convinced that she was a handy person to have around, and they could salvage their working relationship. That's what she needed more than anything.
"I guess," she said.
"Great. Consider yourself hired." He hitched her closer to his side. His body was hard and warm and solid enough to prop up her weight if she was the kind of woman inclined to lean on a man. She wasn't. She didn't trust them for that.
He cupped her upper arm, his palm sliding up and down in a caress she could feel through the sleeve of her cotton shirt. It made her flesh prickle, and she shivered.
Griffin's feet halted, stopping their forward movement. Jane glanced up. He was staring at her, an odd expression on his face. His caressing hand moved over her again, and she couldn't stop a second shiver.
"Jesus, Jane," he murmured, stroking her once more. "Jesus."
Her mouth was dry. "Jesus, Jane - what?"
He shook his head as if he was shaking off an uncomfortable thought. His fingers slid away. "Don't look so serious," he told her, his voice gruff.
She frowned at him. "How should I look, then?"
With a careless hand, he chucked her under the chin. The strange moment had clearly passed. "Try smiling, honey-pie. For this to succeed, you have to look and sound the part."
"The part of what?" she asked, suspicious.
Griffin grinned down at her. His blue gaze seemed almost tender, and she felt his testosterone twisting toward her like smoke, seeking that crack in her protective shell. His hand found hers. "The part, sweet Jane, of my lover."
CHAPTER FIVE
THEY DIDN'T GET to introductions right away. The moment she and Griffin appeared on the beach in front of the lovely brunette, the woman launched herself into his arms, causing him to let go of Jane. "You don't know what I've been through!" the beauty said.
One of her young entourage was a girl who looked as if she'd just crossed into her teens. "I'm going to die of boredom here," the teen said. "I can smell the lack of cell phone coverage." She blinked lashes of beyond-natural length and thickness. "I'm probably going to get pregnant just for something to do."
Though Jane was somewhat alarmed when the teen turned to peruse the beach as if seeking out potential baby daddies, no one else commented on her offhand remark. Perhaps no one else had heard it. Griffin and the woman were already walking down the beach in the direction of his cottage, she hanging on to his arm while still carrying the little guy, who looked to be nine or ten months old. One of the baby's sandals slipped off his foot, and Jane swooped it up as she drifted behind them.
"Let's go," the teenager said to the remaining two. They were boys - five and six? Seven and eight? - and were poking at a clump of stinky kelp with a stick.
At the girl's prompting, the smaller of the two ran ahead, brandishing the piece of wood, while the other threw sand at his back, yelling, "Your face looks like monkey poo!"
At that, the teenager tossed a glance at Jane. "My life," she said in a theatrical tone.
"It seems adding an infant of your own to it would only complicate matters," Jane pointed out. "Cute baby bump to monkey poo? A blip in time."
Her extravagant eye-roll made Jane grin. It reminded her of -
Griffin. Good God, was the brunette his ex? This tribe his children?
"I'm Jane," she said to the girl.
The teen slid her a sidelong look. "Of course you are."
Griffin's exact words! "What's your name?"
"Rebecca." She flung an arm in the direction of her presumed siblings. Four inches of braided