The Guy Next Door - By Lori Foster, S Donovan, V Dahl Page 0,63

or girlfriend—or maybe several of them. But that’s none of my business. What I’m trying to say is that I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you. That’s not like me at all. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to—”

The professor pressed the palm of her small hand against his chest to stop him from saying more. “I’ve been divorced for six years, Jesse, and I haven’t dated much. My ex-husband was a philanderer and a white-collar criminal, and I admit I basically shut down after the divorce. I’m no good at this sort of thing. Casual sex, I mean.”

Jesse blinked, dumbstruck. Never in his thirty-eight years had he heard a woman cut to the chase the way Gail just had. Her raw honesty was startling.

“Thanks for the tour. You really know your Hemingway, Captain.” She gave his shirt an affectionate pat. “Goodbye.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he said.

Gail spun around, a small frown between her pale brows.

“I’ve never been married and I am not seeing anyone.”

“Oh.”

“And that was the most incredible first kiss I’ve had since Myra Castillo planted one on me in sixth grade.” Jesse couldn’t figure out why, but it gave him a rush of pleasure to see Gail’s shy smile return.

“I have an idea.” Suddenly, Jesse was feeling protective of her. He wanted to salvage her day. “Let me give you a private tour of Key West. Just you and me—” Jesse stopped himself, tipping his head toward her purse. “And your very large straw bag.”

Gail sniffed, trying to act offended but already starting to laugh.

“What in God’s name do you have in there, anyway?”

“Nothing. Yet,” she said. “But I wanted to have it with me so I could carry any treasures I might find while I’m in town—artwork, cute T-shirts, a good book.”

Jesse grinned, making a mental note to circumvent Duval between Angela and Petronia until he could get Chago to dismantle the permanent J.D. Batista shrine in the window of Island Books. His buddy owed him a favor.

“I’m at your service,” Jesse said, extending his hand to the lovely professor.

She accepted it. Jesse didn’t understand why or how, but the way her hand slipped into his felt like an answer to a question, a question he hadn’t even planned on asking.

“SO WHERE ARE YOU STAYING?”

Though the girls had been hanging out with Luis and Nestor for only a couple of hours, they already felt comfortable, as if they’d known each other for years. Hannah laughed at most everything that came out of Nestor’s mouth. Luis seemed to be the more serious of the two and, in Holly’s opinion, the most handsome. The two local community college students seemed really polite and sweet.

Then again, the brothers thought Holly and Hannah were twenty-one-year-old juniors at Drexel University on their spring break, but those were just details.

“On a little street off Truman Avenue,” Holly answered. “I forget the name, but we always manage to find it.”

Luis took another bite from his grilled sandwich and cocked his head as he listened. “So you’re in a house, not a hotel?”

“Oh, yeah!” Hannah said. “It’s a really pretty cottage with a private pool and everything!”

Neither girl missed it when Luis and Nestor’s eyes connected over the lunch table.

“But my mom is with us,” Holly felt compelled to add. As much fun as a few beers and a little what-what in the pool sounded, she thought she should let them know it wasn’t going to happen. Not unless they could get her mom out of the house for several hours, and that was about as likely as five feet of snow accumulating in the Florida Keys. Holly looked around the table, embarrassed. No one knew that she’d called her mom from the ladies’ room just a few minutes before to get permission to go out on the boys’ water scooters. God, did it ever suck being seventeen! “My mom just earned her doctorate and needed a vacation, so we asked her to join us,” Holly said.

“Cool,” Nestor said.

“No problem,” Luis said.

The group was about to leave their outdoor table and head to the dock when Holly suddenly snapped to attention. Rolling toward the stop sign on Front Street was her mom. On the back of a moped. Her arms were wrapped around the hottie captain from next door. Her skirt was jacked up high enough for her to put the guy in an upper-thigh death grip.

She couldn’t freakin’ believe it.

Hannah began smacking Holly’s arm. “No way!” she said, pointing to the moped. “Do