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  He’d been attracted to this woman since he first laid eyes on her a week ago. The lust surging through his body at this moment was more powerful than anything he’d experienced before and its intensity caught him off guard. It had been a while for him, sure, but this was something more. Something he needed to remedy quickly.

  Midas tugged at the end of the leash, his excited bark nearly causing Ginger to lose her grip and fall. Startled, she jumped to her feet, fluid and graceful even while flustered.

  “Quiet, Midas,” Gavin commanded. “Sit. Stay.” He dropped the dog’s leash and strolled across the cavernous room to where Ginger stood wide-eyed, looking delicate and innocent.

  “Audra gave me a key the other day,” she said as though she needed to apologize for using the studio. Her hands tightly gripped the barre behind her as she leaned against it. “I—I needed to get out of the inn for a while.”

  A sheen of perspiration glazed the toned muscles of her shoulders and arms as well as the valley above a pair of very nice breasts. Gavin stifled a moan before catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he stalked toward her. He stopped in his tracks, mentally cursing himself. No wonder she looked scared shitless; Gavin was coming at her as though he was going to devour her. Which was precisely his intent, but it would probably go a lot more smoothly if he started at first base.

  He took a deep breath, hoping it would force his rigid body to relax. “Yeah, I can relate.” He gestured toward Midas. “I needed to blow off a little steam, too.”

  “I wanted to go looking for Cassidy, to apologize, but I have no idea where to start. I don’t know where she lives.” The anguish that had been in her eyes earlier at the inn was still there and Gavin mentally cursed himself again for having such a one-track mind. She needed reassurance before he could properly seduce her.

  “She lives over at the Seaside Vista Trailer Park. Number ten. A friend of mine made sure she got home safely.”

  “Oh,” she said, her whole body seeming to relax. “That’s good, then.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about apologizing to her,” he said, wanting to find the words that would wash away the sadness from her eyes, too. “You were only trying to be nice. She’ll realize as much as soon as she’s had a chance to cool off.”

  Ginger gave him an elegant shrug.

  “Since we’re talking about apologies, though, I’d like to apologize for my—”

  “Don’t!” she said before he could finish his sentence. “I have a mom of my own. It’s their job to do things that embarrass us. Besides, she’s just protecting you.” She ran her tongue along her lips, an innocent gesture that did nothing to help cool his libido.

  “What exactly do you think she’s protecting me from?” he teased.

  A pretty pink flush spread from her cheeks to her chest as Ginger did a little hop-skip move from the barre, slowly edging away from him. “Crazy soap stars, I guess,” she threw over her shoulder. Bending down to pick up her gym bag, she gave him an excellent view of the backside of her very toned body.

  He sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t need protection from soap stars, crazy or not.” Judging by his body’s reaction, he likely did, but she didn’t need to know that.

  She stood up slowly and there was a surge of passion in her incredible eyes when they met his. But she quickly extinguished it with another of her little head shakes. “Of course you don’t.”

  “Anyway, my mom had no right to speak to you like she did. She didn’t mean to hurt you. She was just messing with me.”

  “You’d think your mom would be a little more grateful, though, considering all that you’re doing to help pay off your father’s debts.” She pulled a towel out of the bag and began wiping down her arms.

  “She doesn’t know about my dad’s debts.” He was so captivated watching her hand glide over her body that the words just slipped out.

  The towel stilled in Ginger’s hand; a confused expression took over her face.

  Gavin ran a hand through his hair. This woman had an uncanny way of distracting him so that he revealed way too much of himself to her. One look at her alluring face and suddenly not telling her the rest didn’t seem possible.

  “We all thought I’d stay in town for a month or two to settle everything with the company before selling it. There were a couple of buyers interested and it appeared at the time the company was doing gangbusters. But it wasn’t. Unbeknownst to my family and anyone else, my father had taken out a cockamamie loan so he could buy and refurbish the inn for my mother. When the recession hit, he wasn’t generating enough income to make the payments and the firm was in dire shape. I’m certain the situation didn’t help my dad’s health.” He dragged in a deep breath to ward off the clench of his gut that he always felt when he spoke of his father’s sudden death. “Anyway, it took me two years to figure out a plan, but getting Dresden House restored and sold will ensure the balloon payment on the inn’s mortgage will get paid on time.”

  “But you can’t tell your mom.” Ginger’s words were a statement, not a question. Her tacit understanding was a relief. And, if he was being honest, just as arousing as her provocative pose moments before.

  “No,” he said softly. “It would break her heart. She’d blame herself for my dad’s death. She talked about owning that inn for years, sketching designs, naming rooms and planning events there. My dad adored her and would do anything for my mom. After we all graduated from college, he found a way to make it work. But he sacrificed a lot to do it.”

  The words “his life” went unspoken, but they both seemed to understand the true consequences.

  “Anyway, my mom never expected me to stay in Chances Inlet for as long as I have. As far as she knows, this is what I want. My dad was larger than life in this town. He was a former minor baseball player and I think folks here had a bit of hero worship going. Dad coached all of our teams, he was a scout leader and he served on the town council for nearly two decades. When he was no longer around, everyone immediately stuck me in that role. I guess it helped with the collective grieving.” He shrugged.

  “Are you ever going to tell her?” She posed the question softly and Gavin felt its gentle lure teasing his innermost thoughts. He was telling her things he’d only ever told one other person, and yet he felt safe exposing his secret to her.

  “Hell, no. She’s gotten past the hardest part of losing my dad and she’s come out the other side happy and successful. She’s a walking testament to all that ‘second chances’ bullshit this town loves to preach.” He took a step closer, unable to ignore the pull of her any longer. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself, too.”

  “Of course,” she said with conviction. “After all, it’s really none of my business.”

  Gavin laughed as he closed the space between them. “You’re probably the first person in this town to ever say that.”

  Her lips turned up in an impish smile. “These people have no idea how tough I really am.”

  Gavin traced a finger against the smooth skin of her biceps. The muscle beneath was well-defined and strong, belying the elegant gracefulness she projected when she moved. “No,” he whispered, watching as goose bumps rose up along the places on her body his finger gently stroked. “I don’t think they do.” He placed his finger beneath her chin as he slowly brought his mouth down to meet hers.

  “You don’t have to kiss me to keep your secret, Gavin,” she murmured as her eyes drifted shut.

  “Yeah, Ginger, I do have to kiss you. But that’s not the reason why.”

  There were a hundred reasons why he had to kiss her, the first being that he might actually implode if he didn’t. But when his lips finally met hers, his brain scrambled and he could think of only one reason to kiss her: because her mouth tasted incredibly sweet beneath his own. Her lips gave up no resistance, allowing him deep inside to explore. Everything changed the moment his tongue met hers, however.

  The sassy strength he’d suspected lay beneath Ginge
r’s graceful exterior came roaring to life as she kissed him back. Tilting her head to give him better access, she stretched up on her toes, pressing her hips against his now-agonizingly hard body, and Gavin groaned. She kissed him as though she wanted to crawl inside of him, her tongue sliding against his while her hands roamed over his back. His fingers found their way beneath her stretchy camisole to tease her aroused nipples and she started, nipping at his bottom lip. Gavin was so turned on that he wanted to take her right there underneath the bright lights of the dance studio.

  She made a soft keening sound in the back of her throat as her fingers grazed the skin along the waistband of his jeans. His hand moved from palming her breast to grasping a hold of her round ass, lifting her higher against the part of him demanding the most attention right now. Something slimy met the back of his hand just as Gavin realized the whimpering he heard was not Ginger, but his damn dog. Reluctantly breaking the kiss, he yelled at the dog. “Midas, down!” But the hundreds of dollars he’d spent in puppy training were obviously a waste because the dog ignored him, instead running in circles around the two of them and barking.

  “We should probably take this upstairs anyway,” he said. Ginger suddenly stiffened in his arms. Not the response he was going for. Her face had gone from flushed to white and her eyes were wide as she stared at something over his shoulder. Gavin glanced at the mirrored wall and saw the reflection of Will Connelly standing in the foyer looking like a thug in a black Blaze hoodie and baggie sweats, carrying a six-pack of beer in his hand. The big lug was standing there with his mouth hanging open.

  Ah, shit!

  Gavin whipped around, shielding Ginger in the process.

  “Uh,” Will said before holding up the six-pack. “I’m just making a beer delivery. You two carry on with . . . whatever it is that you’re doing.”

  An Ivy League education and that’s the best the dumbass could come up with? Not only that, but he showed no sign of leaving.

  But Ginger was already grabbing for her jacket and bag as Midas’ toenails tapped out a dance on the floor beside her. “Oh, God,” she mumbled to herself. “That was not supposed to happen.”

  “Ginger!” Gavin called as she raced out the door, Midas barking and scurrying after her. Will’s big head turned to follow their progress, his jaw still lax. “Wow. Was that the evil little soap star?” he asked.

  Midas whined in disappointment at being left behind by Ginger. “She’s not an evil soap star,” Gavin said, squeezing at the sudden tension at the back of his neck.

  Will laughed. “Oh man, you’re so screwed.”

  “Not tonight, I’m not, thanks to you!” He grabbed a beer from Will’s hand, twisting off the cap and guzzling half its contents. Will’s laughter followed him all the way up the stairs to his loft.

  * * *

  Patricia stared at the shadows the trees projected on her bedroom ceiling, the gentle wind off the ocean making them dance and swing. She pulled at a loose string on the comforter covering her sated body. At her heavy sigh, Lamar rolled over in the bed to face her.

  “What’s eating at you tonight, Tricia?” he asked. His sleep-laden voice made her insides melt a little.

  “Well, for starters I’m a little annoyed that this comforter is so poorly made. I bought it less than six months ago and it’s already coming apart.”

  His lips brushed over her bare shoulder. “I’ll be sure and alert the head of security at Belk before you go in there ranting and raving,” he teased.

  Patricia smiled, allowing herself to relax a little bit. “Make fun all you want, but I paid good money for this.”

  “Tricia?” His tone demanded the truth.

  “I’m worried about Cassidy,” she hedged.

  Lamar heaved a sigh as his hand slid under the mangled comforter to caress her stomach. “Hayden has strict instructions to cruise through Seaside Vista several times tonight, just as I have my deputies do every night. They pass by Worms and Coffee, too. If I call in those teenage boys and speak to them, it will only make things worse for Cassidy. You know it will.”

  She pulled at the string again. “I know. It’s just . . .”

  “Just what? Spit it out, woman. You’ll feel better and then we can both get some sleep.”

  “I was rude to one of my guests tonight.”

  “Let me guess—the little girl from the soap opera?”

  Patricia forced a laugh. “She’s far from a little girl. If she was, my son wouldn’t be interested in her.”

  Lamar rolled over top of her, bracing his muscled body on his forearms so that his nose was nearly touching hers. “We’re back to this again, I see.”

  Her fingers left the strand on the comforter to lovingly trace the hard planes of his chest. “I wasn’t very nice to her tonight.” The words were difficult to push out of her tight throat.

  “It isn’t always easy being the Mamma Bear, is it?” he asked before kissing the tip of her nose.

  Tears stung her eyes. “I just want my kids to be happy. Gavin has given up so much. Is it too much to ask that he finds a nice girl from around here to settle down with?”

  “That’s gonna be a little hard to do, because I believe I’ve found the only nice girl from around here.”

  Patricia blushed from her head to her toes.

  “He’s a big boy, Tricia. He’s had his heart tramped on a time or two and he’s still alive.”

  She nodded silently.

  “It won’t hurt you to be nice to the girl, either. You know what they say about forbidden fruit. The more you discourage him from the girl, the more he’s going to want her.”

  Lamar had a point. Gavin knew the show would be in production for only a few months. What did it matter if he had a fling with Ginger? A woman like her had bigger plans for her life and they didn’t include marrying an architect in Chances Inlet.

  “I’ll do better with her tomorrow,” she promised Lamar and herself.

  “Good girl. Now, why don’t I try something else that is guaranteed to get you to relax?”

  His mouth found hers in a deep, searing kiss and Patricia forgot all about Ginger Walsh.

  SEVEN

  A warm breeze blew in off the Atlantic Ocean, tangling Ginger’s hair as she stood on the bluff overlooking Dresden House. Diesel and Bucky, the show’s director, were discussing the sequencing of camera shots they would use for the opening of each episode of the eight-week show. A crane was being brought in on Monday to capture the panoramic view that would serve as the “before” picture of Dresden House.

  “The weather is expected to be perfect next week, so it shouldn’t take us more than an hour or two to set up, grab the shot and take everything back down,” Bucky said. “It might be nice to get some of the exterior landscaping shots done next week as well.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Diesel said. “If we could get everything we need this time, we wouldn’t have to rent the crane again. Ginger, can you make a note for me to ask McAlister about moving up the landscaping timetable when I talk to him this afternoon.”

  Ginger fought not to stick out her tongue as she entered the note into Diesel’s iPad. He was taking way too much enjoyment at having Ginger at his beck and call. Something stirred inside her, though, when she typed Gavin’s name. The memory of the steamy kiss the two had shared the night before made her insides burn. That amazing mouth of his definitely lived up to its fanfare. Not surprisingly, Gavin kissed like he did everything else, with charm and the easy assurance that both parties would enjoy it. And Ginger definitely had.

  She hadn’t meant to ever use the key Audra had provided her. But after her dustup with Cassidy and then Patricia, she’d needed to do something, to “blow off some steam,” as Gavin had said. The studio was the only refuge she had in this tiny town. It was the one place where someone wasn’t going to ask her about Saints and Sinners or Savannah Rich.

  She’d only meant to hang out there, maybe read a book. But the joy she’d seen in the faces of the
young dancers earlier in the week had reawakened something inside of her. Before she knew it, she was pulling on her tights and running her fingers along the achingly familiar ballet barre. Once she began the well-known routine of stretches and ballet moves, Ginger was transported back to a time when life had been regimented and predictable. For an hour, she was able to forget the ugly turns her life had taken—the people and things she had no control over. But then Gavin had surprised her and she’d wanted to “blow off steam” in a whole different way.

  She breathed a sorrowful sigh. Her body was still frustrated that they had been interrupted, but her common sense was relieved. She’d promised Diesel she’d stay focused on her work and avoid the attraction brewing between her and Gavin. One mind-blowing kiss and she’d nearly lost not only her focus, but her sanity as well.

  Seventy-nine days. That was all that stood between her and redemption. She needed to remember that.

  Ginger gave her head a firm shake, only to find that Diesel and Bucky had already begun descending the hill leading down toward Dresden House. She jogged behind them, catching both men as they passed under the portico shielding the heavy front door.

  “I’m giving everyone the rest of the afternoon off. They’ve been putting in a lot of hours this week and several of them wanted to head home to spend some time with their families,” Bucky was saying. “The plumbers and electricians pulled out of here about an hour ago. All that’s left is McAlister’s cleanup crew.”

  “I’d like to look at the footage we shot at the stained glass maker’s shop yesterday. Maybe I can package it up this weekend while I have some downtime,” Diesel said.

  The pair wandered off toward the back of the house where the production trailers were located while Ginger paused in the grand hallway. With this week’s deadlines all met, the frenzy that had absorbed the house was now quiet and the walls around her seemed to sigh in relief much like a patient might after a complicated medical procedure. Rainbows created by the sunlight danced off the large chandelier hanging above her and Ginger took a moment to soak up the reverent silence of the old house.