Date with Destiny

This was not supposed to happen. I didn’t come home for this. Nothing will stop me from getting my life and career back on track.

He grabbed the bottle and glass from the sand. “Let’s go,” he said quietly.

Grace considered some kind of cold retort, but failed to find one.

Cameron Jakowski had his hand up my dress.

“All right,” she said with a deliberate tilt of her chin and tried not to think about how good his hand had felt. “We won’t ever mention this again.”

“Sure we will.”

Grace lifted her hem fractionally and took a few steps up the sand. “We won’t,” she said defiantly. “I won’t. I intend to forget this ever happened.”

“Good luck with that.”

Grace stomped along the sand, headed for the boat ramp and walked back toward the reception. As she’d suspected, her father’s proud speech was in full swing and Grace circumnavigated the huge tent and slipped through an opening behind the wedding table as discreetly as she could.

But Evie’s hawkeyed radar caught a glimpse of her immediately and Grace did her best to squash a fresh wave of embarrassment from heating her cheeks. Evie raised both her brows inquiringly and Grace managed a barely decipherable shake of her head. It didn’t help that Cameron chose that moment to make his entrance through the same opening.

Busted…

The look on her sister’s face was unmistakable. She knew Evie would demand answers at some point. That was Evie’s way. Grace steeled herself with a deep breath and took her conspicuously empty seat at the table. Cameron did the same a few seats away and she used every inch of effort to not look at him. Instead, she concentrated her attention on her father’s heartfelt speech.

When it was her turn to say a few words, Grace stood and took the microphone from her father and softly kissed his cheek. All the guests clearly waited for her to speak. And she meant to. Only she made a fatal mistake and glanced at Cameron. And damn him—he smiled, winked and made her forget every word she’d planned to say in honor of the bride and groom.

Nothing came out, only a squeak, a kind of strangled sound that a distressed cat might make.

And it was pain-in-her-neck, thorn-in-her-side Cameron Jakowski’s fault.

Supercool Grace Preston was at a loss for words. Any other time Cameron might have been happy about that. But tonight…not so much. He could still taste her lovely mouth; still feel the silky texture of her skin against his hands.

One minute they were talking, the next they were kissing like a couple of horny teenagers. Cameron couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like that. The last time he’d done that.

And he certainly hadn’t expected to do it with Miss Icy Britches.

He’d mostly kept his hands to himself when they were dating. They’d made out plenty of times—but never quite like what had happened on the beach. She’d wanted to wait to make love and he’d respected her wishes, although he’d imagined a future together—a wedding, a wedding night. Until Grace had informed him of her big plans for a career and a future that didn’t include Crystal Point or the small-town police officer who wanted to marry her one day.

But right now, she didn’t look like the Grace he’d come to resent. It was easier that way, easier not thinking about her perfectly beautiful face and body. And yet his skin felt tight watching her, waiting for her to speak. She was off balance, askew, and he knew it wasn’t the champagne doing damage.

It churned something inside him, thinking he was responsible for the kind of hazy, almost lost look on her face as she stared into the microphone. He smiled again, different this time, without mockery, with only the intent to calm her obviously fractured nerves. She met his gaze and they remained like that for a moment, linked by some invisible thread that had nothing to do with the searing kisses they’d shared, or the years of thinly veiled antagonism that had come to define their relationship. He saw her relax, watched as her jaw loosened and then she began to speak.

“Tonight is a celebration,” she said and then swallowed hard, as though the words were difficult to say. “Of love. Of trust. Of the commitment between two people.”

She went on to talk about the bride and groom, speaking clearly and concisely as she wished the newlyweds a long and happy life. Cameron wondered if she meant it. He’d never heard her speak about love before. When she was done she returned to her seat and didn’t spare him another look.

Dessert was served after that and Cameron pushed the sugary sweet around on his plate. The dancing started again and the woman beside him dug him in the ribs with her elbow, but he was in no mood for that either. He declined her invitation and managed a smile when she scooted off her chair. Mary-Jayne Preston was a pretty brunette with amazing green eyes—and she was Grace’s younger sister.

Grace…

She didn’t like him. He didn’t like her. But he’d wanted her and loved her most of his adult life. He thought he was over it. Thought he had it under control.

Jackass…

“Why do you look like you want to be somewhere else?”

Cameron turned his head. Noah Preston. His best friend. And Grace’s older brother. “You know me and weddings,” he replied casually.

The other man ducked into the empty chair beside him. “Are you tempted to take the walk yourself?” Noah asked.

He shrugged to disguise the truth. Because he did want to get married. He wanted a wife and kids and the whole deal. Cameron longed for a family of his own. He was thirty-six years old and had dated a succession of women, none he saw for more than a few months. And none who invaded his deepest dreams like Grace Preston.

He’d built a house designed for a family and lived in it alone. Dated women he knew weren’t going to figure permanently in his life. For a long time he’d avoided thinking about marriage and family. Once Grace left Crystal Point he’d pushed his focus into his career as a police officer and tried to forget about her. And their ongoing resentment for one another had fueled that focus. But now he wanted more. More than an empty house when he came home after a long shift at work, more than an empty bed. Or one filled occasionally with someone he barely knew.

He wanted what his parents had. He wanted what his best friend had.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Noah said easily. “Actually, it’s the smartest move I ever made. You just need to find the right woman.”

Noah had married Callie Jones eight months earlier and the stunning, blue-eyed, California horse-riding instructor had transformed his friend’s life. His four children had a new mother and Noah had the love of a woman he adored. And with Callie’s brother, Scott, now married to Evie, it seemed like everyone around him was getting their happily-ever-after.

Just not me.

It made him think of green eyes. Grace’s eyes. Noah would have a fit if he knew what he was thinking. Or what he’d been doing with her down by the beach.

“I never said it was bad.”

Noah laughed. “I’m sure there’s some sweet, easygoing girl out there who—”

“I don’t want easygoing,” he said swiftly. “Or sweet.”

Grace again. Because Grace wasn’t either of those things. She was smart and independent and reserved and coolly argumentative and…

And she’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted.

Noah laughed again. “Can’t say I blame you. I love my wife’s spirit.” There was a gleam in his friend’s eyes. “Makes life more interesting.”

“I’ll bet,” Cameron said agreeably.

“Were you with Grace earlier?”

Cameron shot a glance at his friend. “For a minute,” he said and pushed aside the nagging guilt hitting him between the shoulder blades.

“Something’s going on with her,” Noah said. “She said she’s taking some time off work. But she’s not talking about why, not even to Evie or our mother. Maybe breaking up with that attorney has something to do with it.”

Cameron remembered what she’d said about the suit and sensed she wasn’t all that broken up about it. But what she’d said about not belonging—now that, he was sure, had something to do with her return home. Because it was completely unlike Grace to say a thing like that. Noah was right—something was going on with her. The Grace he knew didn’t show vulnerability. She was ice-cool and resilient. At eighteen she’d walked away from him and Crystal Point and moved to New York and had been there ever since, returning once or twice a year at the most. That was the Grace Preston he understood. Not the vulnerable one moment, hotter than Hades the next kind of woman who’d kissed him back like there was no tomorrow.

Wanting her had made every other woman he’d known pale by comparison. And now he knew one thing—he either had to get Grace out of his head for good…or get Grace in his bed and in his life.

She was home, on his turf. Maybe he had a shot. The way she’d kissed him gave him some optimism. That kind of response wasn’t fake. And he knew Grace. She wouldn’t pretend. Whatever was going on with her, Cameron was determined to find out. She’d resist and fight. She’d make things impossible. She’d cut him down with icy barbs and indifference.