The Guy Next Door - By Lori Foster, S Donovan, V Dahl Page 0,64

you see that?”

Holly nodded, speechless.

The boys laughed. “Oh, so you’re J.D. fans? That figures,” Luis sent a knowing smile to his brother. “Our dad owns Island Books. We’ve known Uncle Jesse all our lives. He’s like family.”

Holly frowned at Luis. Why was he suddenly putting on the swagger? Why did he think that knowing their neighbor dude would impress them?

“That’s nice,” Holly said, turning just in time to see her mother rip the ponytail holder from her hair and tilt her face back into the sun. The moped took off down the street and Holly heard her mom laugh, her blond hair flying out behind her in the wind.

“Who’s the babe with Uncle Jesse?” Nestor asked.

“No idea,” Luis said. “Just another party girl, I guess.”

CHAPTER FIVE

TRUTH BE TOLD, GAIL DIDN’T want to get off the moped. Ever. Driving around for the last couple of hours had not only given her a complete understanding of the layout of Key West—from its historic Old Town to the strip malls—but it had given her an excuse to plaster herself up against Jesse’s back and spread her fingers over his muscular chest and stomach. She’d never before touched a man so powerfully built. She liked it. She didn’t want it to end.

However, staying on the moped forever was impractical, and Jesse had just asked her if she was hungry. Gail had to admit she was. So Jesse swung the moped around and headed to what she figured was a restaurant on the eastern end of Duval Street. Instead, he pulled up in front of what looked like a very exclusive yacht club and turned off the bike. A beefy man in an ivory linen suit looked over the top of his sunglasses and had begun to bark at Jesse for pulling into a no-parking zone when he suddenly broke out into a wide grin.

“Jesse! Where you been, man?”

“Mook!” Jesse helped Gail off the moped and then gave the man a big hug. “It’s been a while.”

“Things going good for you these days?” Mook made the inquiry of Jesse, but his eyes had fallen on Gail. She hoped her hair didn’t look too wild or her face too flushed.

“Couldn’t be better. This is my friend Gail.”

The three of them chatted for a bit, long enough for Gail to decide that Jesse did, in fact, know every local person on the island. As they’d tooled around town, he’d beeped and waved at what seemed like hundreds of friendly faces—guys at the marina, women who ran health food restaurants, jewelry galleries or ice cream shops. He’d stopped briefly to chat with a man at a gas station and one of the caretakers at Key West cemetery, who’d taken them on a quick tour of graves dated all the way back to the late 1700s.

Jesse had grown up here, he’d explained to her, and many of his childhood friends remained in town. He’d told her that the Conchs were a close-knit community.

“The who?” she’d asked.

Jesse had explained that anyone born here called themselves a “Conch,” and the city itself was nicknamed the “The Conch Republic,” for the large-shelled sea snails that were once plentiful in the surrounding waters.

Gail wandered away from the laughing and chatting friends, drawn to the dramatic ocean vista that lay beyond the pier. Jesse had mentioned that Key West was where the Atlantic met up with the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. All Gail knew was that the startling blue-green sea looked smooth, clean and infinite. Seagulls and pelicans swooped through the clear sky. Dozens of tiny islands dotted the waters beyond. Gail wondered to herself what it would be like to live somewhere so outrageously beautiful.

“Shall we?” Jesse reached for her hand and Mook let them through a locked iron gate, gesturing them on.

“Enjoy your lunch,” Mook said, smiling big.

But instead of leading Gail to one of the white-linen-covered tables at the resort’s busy waterside restaurant, Jesse pulled her in the opposite direction. They walked down a long pier, boats of every description bobbing along on each side.

“Where are we going?” Suddenly, Gail felt the slightest twinge of discomfort. Was she putting herself in danger? She liked Jesse, obviously. He seemed like a great guy. And there was no question that he was sexy and gorgeous. But it sure looked to Gail as though he was about to escort her off the end of a pier.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his eyes smiling behind his sunglasses.

“No offense,” Gail said, “but