never felt that before. She liked it, wanted to hold onto it. But what would it cost her?
She pushed that warning thought to the back of her mind and smiled into his discomfort.
“That’s too bad,” she said. “I think you’d love it there.”
“Hell, yeah,” he agreed and they both knew they were talking about a whole lot more than the Caribbean.
She laughed and even to her it sounded like more of a purr. “I’ll tell you more about it.”
“Start with the basics,” he ordered. “What color was your swim suit?”
“They’re totally optional there.”
She heard him swear, short and swift, and her smiled deepened with delight.
“Torture,” he decided. “You’re pretty good at this.”
“I am,” she agreed, surprised. “Though I didn’t know it.”
He snorted.
“Really.” She’d never indulged in word play, not during her short marriage to Trace. Not on the few dates she’d had since him. And she was finding that she really liked it. “And I was just kidding about that. The swimsuit thing. The Cayman’s are British owned. I brought several.”
“Let’s stick to the facts.”
“That’s no fun.”
But he was relentless. “One piece or two?”
“Both.”
“Color?”
“Red one piece, if you can call it that. I think most two pieces have more fabric.” He groaned and she moved on. “I used that one for diving. A floral tankini—that’s a two piece that looks like one—“
“I know what it is,” he assured her.
“That was my go-to for things like parasailing and windsurfing. A lot of movement and I wanted to be sure there wasn’t something private going public.”
His lips thinned and Ivy watched his hands clench around the steering wheel.
“I’m saving the best for last,” she announced.
“Of course.”
“A black barely-there bikini—strictly for tanning. All strings. Well, it did have a few triangles attached. Mostly for show.”
She turned the full brilliance of her smile on him.
“You want to know what I wore to bed?”
He shook his head.
“You’re being very accommodating,” he said, and it was almost a complaint.
“You’re going a lot out of your way,” she pointed out, and she had been having fun. But they did cross some kind of unspoken boundary. A small needle of discomfort pricked at her sensibilities.
“Forget it then,” he said, and there was a firmness in his voice that said, ‘game over.’ “There are no strings attached to this ride.”
“Meaning there are to others?”
But he wouldn’t go there with her.
She shrugged, suddenly unsure of herself and not liking it. “It was a little fun between strangers.”
“That doesn’t bother you?” he asked.
“It’s starting to,” she admitted.
“Good.”
“We got out of hand,” she admitted.
“Definitely.”
“Why?”
“Attraction,” he said. “It’s intense and mutual.”
She didn’t deny it. “That’s not a good thing.” She’d fallen for Trace fast and had hung on with a tenacity that was unhealthy and even life-threatening.
“Hell, yes, it is.”
“If we knew each other, maybe.”
“We’re not strangers anymore,” he said. “We know more about each other than a lot of people do after a handful of dates.”
That intrigued her. “What do you know about me, Jake?”
“You’re strong, because you had to be,” he said. “And at this point in your life, you wouldn’t want it any other way. You had a major relationship go bad and you’re determined to use that as a compass. You’re a woman of action. You prefer to work on solutions than spend a single moment dwelling on your situation. You’re compassionate, intuitive, and responsive.”
Ivy sat speechless. Many of the qualities he’d listed were exactly as she thought of herself.
“You also work too much,” he continued, “and you could use a little more common sense.”
He stole a sideways glance in time to watch Ivy’s eyebrow arch.
“You should have been more concerned about being alone in the middle of the desert,” he insisted.
“I call that confidence,” Ivy said.
“Sometimes the line between confidence and casualty is blurred. It’s easy to find ourselves in trouble.”
“Are you speaking from personal experience?” she countered.
“I could be,” he admitted.
His words, and their solemn tone, made her think back to the moment on the side of the road when Jake’s whole demeanor had changed. Everything about him had stilled. She had sensed him withdrawing, drifting out of reach. Some thought had haunted him. She had watched the shadows shift in his eyes, his face grow dark.
He turned on his signal light and cruised into a lane change. Ivy looked at the approaching signs and noticed they were connecting with Interstate Fifteen. They were still at least an hour from the hospital. The clock on the dash read five-twenty-five. She would make it. She didn’t doubt him