He walked around the back of the house, taking off his sandals once he hit the sand. It had been a hell of a long time since he felt the hot stuff between his toes. Afghanistan didn’t count. That had been hell. He had thought it ruined him for sand. Thought it had ruined everything, in a way that his parents’ deaths hadn’t.
But then Tara had proved him wrong. She’d saved him.
She was the exception to his brokenness. As he rounded the corner, he found her. She was lying on a lounge chair, eyes shut. A gold bikini barely covered her essential parts, and his mouth dried out. He scanned the area, looking for any men watching his Tara, but no one was nearby. Not a single person in sight.
Thank fucking God.
He dropped his bag and crept closer, his attention on the flat part of her stomach, right above her bikini. It begged to be nibbled on. Hell, every inch of her needed to be tasted by him. One way or the other, he’d find a way to convince her she should forgive him. He wouldn’t give up on her. On them.
They were meant to be.
He swiped his palms on his pants. “Hello, sweetheart.”
She sat upright immediately, her lids flying open. Her cheeks flushed pink, and her perfect mouth dropped into an O shape. “Jake? What… Why… What the hell?”
“Did you miss me?”
She shook her head slightly. “Why are you here?”
“I missed you like hell. I can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t live without you making my life exciting. Putting stickers on my car and feng shui-ing my house. All that shit—I miss it. I miss you.” He wasn’t going to pussyfoot around. When he wanted something, he went after it. And he wanted Tara, in his arms, preferably naked. Forever. “Did you miss me at all? Never mind. I can tell you did.”
Her mouth opened and closed, but she didn’t respond. She seemed to be in too much shock to form a reply. Not once in his life had he ever seen her at a loss for words. That was a promising start to his mission…maybe. Or maybe she was just trying to think of the best way to tell him to go fuck himself.
Either way, he wasn’t giving up.
“Miss you? No. I haven’t thought of you at all.”
Ouch. That hurt, but it would have hurt a lot more if she were telling the truth. She’d averted her eyes as she spoke. She was lying through her pretty little teeth. He stepped closer to her, letting his shadow fall over her. “The hell you haven’t.”
She lifted her chin and stared him down. “I don’t want you here. Go away.”
“That I believe.” He dropped to his knees at the side of her chair. “I fucked up, and I know it. I hurt you. Can you give me a chance to kiss it and make it better?”
She crossed her arms, hugging tight. “No. Not a chance in hell.”
“Please.” He reached out and cupped her cheeks. To his surprise, she didn’t shove him off right away. “I’m sorry I lied to you. Sorry I made you feel as if I didn’t care. I did. I do. So much, sweetheart.”
She tilted her chin up. “You lied to me. Used me.”
“I know.” He hesitated, feeling compelled to explain himself. To make her see why he’d done what he had. But he couldn’t think of how to say it. The words wouldn’t come. He was choking up and ruining everything. “I—”
She pressed her lips together. “You blackmailed me. And lied to me. That’s all I know, and all I need to know.”
“I won’t lie to you anymore.” He caught her gaze, hoping she could see that he was telling the truth. “Ever again.”
She laughed bitterly. “Bullshit. Everyone lies.”
He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Why are you always so sure you know everything?”
“Because I do.” She slapped his touch away. “Please stop doing that.”
His blood pounded. She’d gone soft under his fingers before she rejected him. She might want to be over him, but she so clearly wasn’t. “Tell me you haven’t thought about me since you left.”
“Jake.” She pushed him off. “What game are you playing? Why are you really here? Is something wrong with the code I gave you? Are you here to arrest me again?”
“There’s no game. No blackmail. Not this time.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
He stood and pulled her to her feet, not dropping his hold. “I’ll tell you what I want. I want a second chance.”
“Someone once told me second chances were a waste of time.”
He cringed. “He sounds like an asshole.”
“He is,” she agreed.
“I fucked up. In order to protect the one thing I care about the most, I screwed everything up.” He ran his fingers down her cheek, and she trembled. She might be protesting her desire, but she still wanted him as much as she had before he’d betrayed her. She didn’t want to admit it. “Give me a chance to do things right.”