Moonlight Beach Bachelors: Her Forbidden Cowboy

She wouldn’t pry about the maybe. He hobbled to the table. Leaning a crutch against the table’s edge, he managed to pull out her chair—such chivalry—and she took her seat. Then he scooted his butt into his own chair. Plop. Poor Zane. His injuries put him completely out of his element.

Mrs. Lopez appeared with platters of food. She set them on the table with efficient haste and nodded to him. “I made a pitcher of margaritas to go with the enchiladas and rice. Or maybe some iced tea or soda?”

“Jessica?” he asked.

“A margarita sounds like heaven.”

He glanced at the housekeeper. “Bring the pitcher, please.”

She nodded. Within a minute, a pitcher appeared along with two bottle-green wide-rimmed margarita glasses. “Thanks,” he said. Zane leaned forward and gripped the pitcher with his wrapped hand. His face pinched tight as he struggled to upend the weighty pitcher. He sighed, and she sensed his frustration over not being able to perform the simple task of pouring a drink with his right hand.

“Let me help,” she said softly.

She slipped her hand under the pitcher and helped guide the slushy concoction into the glasses. She gave him credit for clamping his mouth shut and not complaining about his limitations.

“Thanks,” he said. He reached out, and the slide of his rough fingers over hers sent warm tingles to her heart. They were still connected through Janie, and she valued his friendship now. She’d made the right decision in coming here.

The food was delicious. She inhaled the meal, emptying her plate within minutes. “I guess I didn’t know how hungry I was. Or thirsty.”

She reached for her second margarita and took a long sip. Tart icy goodness slid down her throat. “Mmm.”

The sun had set with a parfait of swirling color, and now half the moon lit the night. The beach was quiet and calm. The roar of the waves had given way to an occasional lulling swish.

Zane sipped his third margarita. She remembered that about him. He could hold his liquor.

“So what are your plans now, Jess?” he asked.

“Hit the beach, work on my tan and stay out of your way. Shouldn’t be too hard. The place is huge.”

Tiny lines crinkled around his eyes, and he chuckled. “You don’t need to stay out of my way. But feel free to do whatever you want. There are two cars parked in the garage, fueled and ready to go. I can’t drive them.”

“So how do you get around?”

“Mariah, usually. When I’m needed at the restaurant site or somewhere, she’s drives me or I hire a car. She’s been a trouper, going above and beyond since my accident.”

Mrs. Lopez picked up the empty dishes, leaving the margarita pitcher. A smart woman.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lopez. Have a good night,” Zane said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” she said to both of them.

“Thanks for the delicious enchiladas.”

On a humble nod and smile, she exited the patio.

Zane pointed to her half-empty glass. “How many of those can you handle, darlin’?”

“Oh, uh...I don’t know. Why?”

“’Cause if you fall flat on your face, I won’t be able to pick you up and carry you to your room.”

He winked, and a sudden vision of Zane carrying her to the bedroom burst into her mind. It wasn’t as weird a notion as she might’ve thought. She felt safe with Zane. She truly liked him and didn’t buy into his guilt over Janie’s death. He wasn’t to blame. He couldn’t have known about faulty wiring in the house or the fire that would claim her life. Janie had loved Zane for the man that he was, had always been. She wouldn’t want Zane’s guilt to follow him into old age.

“Well, then, we’re even. If you got pie-eyed, I wouldn’t be able to pick you up, either.” She took another long sip of her drink. Darn, but it tasted good. Her spirits lifted. Let the healing begin.

Zane cocked a crooked smile. “I like your style, Miss Holcomb.”

“Ugh. To think I would’ve been Mrs. Monahan by now. Thank God I’m not.”

“The guy’s an ass.”

“Thanks for saying that. He sure had me fooled. Up until the minute I was having my bridal veil pinned in my hair, I thought I knew what the future had in store for me. I saw myself married to a man I had a common bond with. He was a high school principal. I was a grade-school teacher. We both loved education. But I was too blind to see that Steven had commitment phobia. He’d had one broken relationship after another before we started dating. I invested three years of my life in the guy, and I thought surely he’d gotten over it. I thought I was the one. But he was fooling himself as well as me.” A pent-up breath whooshed out of her. A little bit of tequila loosened her tongue, and out poured her heart. The unburdening was liberating. “My friend Sally said Steven looked up his old girlfriend seeking sympathy after the wedding that never happened. Can you imagine?”

Zane stared at her. “No. He should be on his knees begging you for forgiveness. He did one thing right. He didn’t marry you and make your life miserable. I hate to say it, darlin’, but you’re better off without him. The man doesn’t deserve you. But you’re hurt right now, and I get that. You probably still love him.”

“I don’t,” she said, hoisting her glass and swallowing a big gulp. “I pretty much hate him.”

Zane leaned back in his seat, his gaze soft on her. “Okay. You hate him. He’s out of your life.”

She braced folded elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. The sea was black as pitch now, the sky lit only with a few stars and clouded moonlight. “I just wanted...I wanted what you and Janie had. I wanted that kind of love.”

Her fuzzy brain cleared. Oh, no. She hadn’t just said that? She whipped her head around. Zane’s expression of sympathy didn’t change. He didn’t flinch. He simply stared out to sea. “We had something pretty special.”

“You did. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“Don’t be.” His tone held no malice. “You’re Janie’s sister. You have as much right to talk about her as I do.”

Tears misted in her eyes. “I miss her.”

“I miss her, too.”

She sighed. She didn’t mean to put such a somber mood on the evening. Zane was gracious enough to allow her to stay here. She didn’t want to bring him down. It was definitely time to call it a night. She put on a cheery face. “Well, this has been nice.”

She rose, and her head immediately clouded up. The table, the railing, the ocean blurred before her. She batted her eyes over and over, trying to focus. Two Zanes popped into her line of vision. She reached for the tabletop, struggling to remain upright on her own steam. She swayed back and forth, unable to keep her body still. “Zane?”

“It just hit you, didn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. I think so.” She giggled.

“Don’t move for a second.”

“I’ll...try.” A tornado swirled in her head. “Why?”

He rose and hobbled over to her. Using one crutch, he tucked it under his left arm. “I’m going to help you get inside.”

“But, you said...you c-couldn’t. Uh...” She giggled again.

Zane wrapped his right arm around her shoulder. “Okay, now, darlin’, I’ve got you. Your body will be my other crutch. We’ll help each other. Move slowly.”

“W-where are we g-going?”

“I’ve got to get you to bed.”

Her head fell to his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought how nice it felt to have him hold her. He smelled good. He would take care of her.

“Focus on putting one foot in front of the other.”

She tried.

“That’s good, honey.”

Hobble-hopping, they moved together. It seemed to take forever to go a short distance in the dark shadows of the night. Keeping her eyes down, she watched her feet move. Then blinding light appeared in a burst. She squinted. “What’s that?”

“We’re inside the house now,” Zane was saying.

“That’s g-good, right? I’ll be in b-bed soon.” A warm buzz spread through her like soft, sweet jelly.

“Not upstairs. You’ll never make it. We’re going to my room.”

She couldn’t wait to lay her head down someplace. She didn’t care where. More careful steps later, they entered a room. A ray of moonlight beamed like an arrow, aiming straight at the bed.

“Okay, we made it,” Zane said. He sounded weird and out of breath. “You’ll sleep here tonight.”

He guided her down. The bed hit her bottom quickly and cushioned around her. She swayed sideways and was immediately set to right. Zane held her steady as the mattress dipped again and he sat next to her. Dizzying waves bombarded her head. She’d sat too quickly.

“Think you can take it from here?” he whispered.

No. Aware of Zane’s eyes on her, she waited until the twister in her head calmed. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.”

Her giddiness fading, her lighthearted high dropped to a pitiful low. It hadn’t taken her long to become a burden to Zane. If only she hadn’t sucked down that second margarita. Zane had warned her to go slowly. Expensive tequila and jet lag had done her in. Man, chalk another mistake up to her lousy intuition.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said.

But she was, and an urge to thank him wiggled through the fog in her head. Pursing her lips, she leaned forward toward his cheek. Her aim off, she missed and caught the corner of his mouth instead. As she brushed a soft kiss there, he tasted of tequila and the sea. So good. Inside, a warm sprinkling of something wonderful spread through her body. “Thank you,” she whispered, not sure if her words slurred.

Then his arms wrapped around her and gently lowered her down. Her head was enveloped in a large, fluffy pillow, and a silky sheet came to rest over her body.

She heard a whispered, “Welcome,” right before the world finally stopped spinning.

Two

Jessica gazed at the digital clock on the nightstand. Eight-thirty! She flashed back to last night and drinking those two giant margaritas, then slowly looked around. She was in an unfamiliar bed.

She’d finally let go and given herself permission to have a good time, and where had that gotten her? She’d made a fool of herself. Zane had hobbled her inside the house and slept heaven only knew where. Was there another bedroom on this floor? Maybe a servant’s quarters? She’d seen an office, a screening room and a game room. No beds, just couches. “Oh, man,” she mumbled.

She scanned the stark but stylish bedroom where she’d slept. A flat-screen TV, a dresser and a low fabric sofa were the only other furniture in the room. If it wasn’t for a shelf that housed Zane’s five Grammys, as well as a couple of CMA and ACM awards, she wouldn’t have guessed it was his master suite. There was nothing personal, warm and cozy about the space.

Hitching her body forward, she waited for signs of pain, but there was nothing. Thank goodness—no hangover. She grabbed her glasses from the nightstand, tossed off the covers and rose. Seeing she was still dressed in her shorts and tank top, she emitted a low groan from her throat as she slipped her feet into her flip-flops. How reckless of her. She’d abused Zane’s hospitality already.

She entered the bathroom, another ode to magnificence, and glanced at herself in the mirror. Smudged mascara and rumpled hair reflected back at her. She washed her face and finger-combed her long wayward tresses. She’d take care of the rest once she reached her own room.

Exiting Zane’s room, she made her way down a short hallway. Voices coming from the kitchen perked up her ears.

Mrs. Lopez spotted her and waved her inside. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Mariah and Zane sat at the kitchen table, coffee mugs piping hot in front of them. Upon the housekeeper’s announcement, both heads lifted her way. Blood rushed up her neck, and her face flamed.

“Morning,” Zane said, peering into her eyes and not at her wrinkled mess of clothes. “You ready for some breakfast?”

“Good morning, Jessica,” Mariah said. They’d obviously been deep in concentration, poring over a stack of papers.

“Yes, yes. Sit down,” Mrs. Lopez insisted.

“Oh, uh...good morning. I don’t want to intrude. You look busy.”

“Just same old, same old,” Mariah said. “We’re going over plans for Zane’s new restaurant. We could use your input.”

She’d given Zane her input last night. God. She’d kissed him. Remembering that kiss sent a warm rash of heat through her body. She’d missed his cheek and gotten hold of his lips. Was it the alcohol, or had her heart strummed from that kiss? The alcohol. Had to be. He must have known it was a genuine miscalculation on her part. She hadn’t meant to kiss him that way.

“Yes, have a seat, Jess,” he said casually. “You need to eat. And we sure need a fresh perspective.”

Before her shower? Luckily Zane hadn’t mentioned anything about her lack of discretion last night or her state of dress today. She’d overslept, that much was a given. Back home, she rose before six every morning. She loved to go through the morning newspaper, take a walk in the backwoods and then eat a light breakfast before heading to her classroom.

There were a platter of bagels with cream cheese, a scrambled egg jalapeno dish and cereal boxes on the table. The eggs smelled heavenly, and her stomach grumbled. Seeing no other option, she sat down and reached for the eggs as Mrs. Lopez provided her with a bowl and a cup of coffee.

“Bien.” She gave a satisfied nod.

Jessica smiled at her.

As Zane and his assistant finished up their breakfast, she ate, too, complimenting Mrs. Lopez on the food she’d prepared.

Zane told Mariah, “Janie and Jessica worked at their folks’ café in Beckon. They served the best fried chicken in all of Texas.”

“That’s what most folks said,” she agreed. She couldn’t claim modesty. Her parents did make the best fried chicken in the state. “My parents opened Holcomb House when I was young. They worked hard to make a go of it. It wasn’t anything as grand as what you’re probably planning, but in Beckon, the Holcomb House was known for good eats and a friendly atmosphere. When Dad died five years ago, my mom couldn’t make a go of it by herself. I think she lost the will, so she sold the restaurant. I’m no expert, but if I can help in any way, I’ll give it a try.”

“Great,” Mariah said.

“Appreciate it,” Zane added. “This restaurant will be a little different than the one in Reno, in cuisine and atmosphere. The beach is a big draw for tourists, and we want it to be a great experience.”

Zane probably had half a dozen financial advisors, but if he needed her help in any way, she’d oblige. How could she not? She cringed thinking that Zane slept on a sofa last night. A quick glance at his less than crisp clothes, the same clothes he’d worn last night, meant that he probably hadn’t got to shower this morning, either. Because of her.

Once the dishes were cleared, Mariah pushed a few papers over to her. “If you don’t mind, could you tell us what you think of the menu? Are the prices fair? Do the titles of the dishes make sense? We’re working with a few chefs and want to get it just right. These are renderings of what Zane’s on the Beach will look like once all done, exterior and interior.”

For the next hour, Jessica worked with the two of them, giving her opinion, voicing her concerns when they probed and offering praise honestly if not sparingly. Zane’s on the Beach had everything a restaurant could offer. Outside, patio tables facing the beach included a sand bar for summer nights of drinking under the moonlight. Inside, window tables were premium, with the next row of tables raised to gain a view of the ocean, as well. It wasn’t posh, but it wasn’t family dining, either. “I like that you’ve made it accessible to a younger crowd. The prices are fair. Have you thought about putting a little stage in the bar? Invite in local entertainment to perform?”

Mariah shot a look at Zane. “We discussed it. I think it’s a great idea. Zane isn’t so sure.”

Zane scrubbed his chin, deep in thought. “I’ve got to get a handle on what I want from this restaurant. My name and reputation are at stake. Do I want ocean views and great food or a hot spot for a younger crowd?”

“Why can’t you have both?” Jessica asked. “Quality is quality. Diners will come for the cuisine and ambiance. After hours, the place can transform into a nightspot for the millennials.”

Amused, Zane’s dark eyes sparked. “Millennials? Are you one?”

“I guess so.”

His head tilted, and his mouth quirked up. “Why do I suddenly feel old?”

“Because you are,” Mariah jabbed. “You’re cranking toward forty.”

“Thirty-five is a far shot from forty, and that’s all I’m saying.”

“You’re wise to stop there,” Mariah said playfully, yet with a note of warning. Jessica could tell that Mariah Jacobellis wasn’t a woman who put up with age jokes. Although Mariah was physically lovely, she seemed to take no prisoners when it came to business or her personal life. Jessica admired that about her. Maybe she could take a lesson from her rule book.

Zane leaned way back in his seat. “You got that right.”

Mariah stacked the papers on the table and rose, hugging them to her chest. “Well, I’m off to make some phone calls. Zane, think about when you want to resume your tour. I’ve got to let the event coordinators know. They’re on my back about it. Oh, and be sure to read through that contract that Bernie sent over the other day.”

Zane’s lips pursed. “I’ll do my best.”

“Jessica, have a nice morning. And if you’re around Zane today, please give him a hand. He may look like a superhero, but he’s really not Superman.”

Could’ve fooled her. Last night, he’d been super heroic.

Mariah pivoted on her heels and strode out the door.

Zane chuckled.

“What?”

“The look on your face.”

“I’m mortified about last night. Where on earth did you sleep, and does Mariah know what happened?”

“First off, don’t be upset. It’s our little secret. Mariah doesn’t know that you’re a margarita lightweight.” He smiled. “That woman’s been babying me for weeks. Doesn’t do a man a bit of good being so dang useless. For the first time in a month of Sundays, I was able to help out and do something useful with this banged-up body.”

“I took your bed.”

“Glad to give it up.”

“Where did you sleep?”

“The office sofa is the most comfortable place in the whole house.”

“Oh, boy. I’m sorry. The first night I’m here, I give you trouble.”

He smiled again, a stunning heart-melter. “If livening up my life some is trouble, then bring it on. Fact is, I’m glad you’re here. You bring a bit of home with you. I miss that.”

She needed to believe him. She’d been afraid coming here would remind him of Janie and all that he’d lost. To have him say he was glad she’d come made a big difference. “Okay.”

He put his palms on her cheeks and leaned forward. Her heart stopped. Was he going to kiss her? His touch sent tingles parading up and down her chest. Oh, wow. It wasn’t alcohol this time. Probably wasn’t the alcohol last night, either. She’d been dumped by a scoundrel, and now a man she had no right responding to made her feel giddy inside. How screwed up was that?

She gazed into his eyes. He was looking somewhere above her eyeglasses. Then he lowered his mouth—she stilled—and he brushed a brotherly kiss across her forehead. Breath eased from her chest, and her foolish heart tumbled. Of course, Zane wasn’t going to kiss her that way.

“And thanks for the input about the restaurant,” he said. “I respect your honesty and what you have to offer.”

She swallowed hard. Tamping down her silly emotions, she offered a quick smile. “Anytime.”

* * *

Beaming sunshine simmered over Jessica’s body, the invading heat soaking into her bones. Salty air, a cushion of sand beneath her and the soothing sounds of waves crashing upon the shore gave her good reason to forget her disastrous relationship with Steven Monahan. He didn’t deserve any more of her time. But the sting of his rejection stayed with her, leaving her hollowed out inside, afraid to trust, questioning her intuition. She feared she’d never fully recover the innocence of her first love. Good thing she didn’t have to make any decisions here on Moonlight Beach. She could just be.

Drenched in sunscreen, she lay on a beach blanket in a modest one-piece bathing suit, a folded towel under her head. Slight breezes just outside Zane’s beachfront home deposited flecks of sand onto her arms and legs. Children’s giggles and adult conversations drifted to her ears. For the first time in days, her nerves were completely calm.

She promised herself to keep out of Zane’s hair, and she had for the most part these past three days. He spent hours inside his office working with Mariah, and occasionally they would ask for her input on the restaurant. She figured it was just a way for him to keep her entertained and make her feel welcome. Each morning, under an overcast sky that would burn off before noon, she walked a three-mile stretch of beach, loosening up her limbs and clearing her head. At night, she’d dine with Zane on the patio facing the ocean, and except for having an occasional glass of white wine or a cold beer, she kept her alcohol consumption to a bare minimum. The Pacific Ocean and fresh air were her balm. She didn’t need to rely on anything else.

She wiggled her tush into the sand, carving out a more comfy spot on her blanket, and closed her eyes. The flapping of wings and piercing squawk of a seagull overhead made her smile.

“Glad to see you’ve taken to Moonlight Beach.”

Blocking rays of sunlight with a hand salute, she opened her eyes. The handsome face of Dylan McKay came into view.

“Hi, Jessica.” He stared at her with his million-dollar smile. “Don’t let me disturb you.”

Gosh, he remembered her name.

Wearing plaid board shorts and a muscle-hugging white T-shirt, and fitting into beach society with the casualness of a megastar, he sort of did disturb her. Yet he did so in such a friendly way, she didn’t mind the intrusion. As she sat up on her elbows, his gaze dipped to her chest. To his credit, his eyes didn’t linger on her breasts, and that was more than she could say about most men.

“Hello, and I am enjoying the beach. When in Rome, as they say.” She chuckled at the cliché. It was Mama’s favorite saying, and she’d used it a zillion times over the years. The most recent was last night when they’d talked on the phone. Did others in her generation get that phrase?

Her eyes fell on a black portfolio tucked under his arm. It looked odd there, as if he should be wearing a three-piece suit while carrying that austere leather case. Instead of moving on, he squatted down beside her, his tanned knees nearly in her face. Obviously, he wanted to chat.

“I see you sometimes in the morning, walking along the beach.”

“You’ve inspired me,” she said. “Of course, I only do three miles. How are your runs going?”

“Killing me, but I’m getting in the ten miles.”

His legs were taut, like those of a natural runner, and the rest of his body, well...it would be hard not to notice his muscles and the way his T-shirt nearly split at the seams around his shoulders and upper arms. “Good for you.”

“So, how’s it going?” he asked. “Other than sunbathing and taking long walks, are you having a good time?”

“Yes. It’s nice here. I’m working on some new lesson plans for my class. I teach first grade back home.”

“Ah...a teacher. Such an honorable profession.”

She waggled her brows. Was he poking fun at her? Or was he being genuine?

“My mother taught school for thirty-five years,” he added, his smile wistful, pride filling his voice. “She was loved by her students, but she wasn’t a pushover. It wasn’t easy pulling my antics on her. She was too savvy. She knew when kids were up to no good.”

“I bet you gave her a run for her money.”

He laughed, the gleam of his lake-blue eyes touching her. “I did.”

“What grade did she teach?”

“All grades, but she preferred fourth and fifth. Then, later on, she became dean of a middle school, and eventually, the principal of the high school.”

She nodded. She didn’t have much else to add to the conversation. Not that Dylan McKay wasn’t easy to talk to. He was. And she loved talking about education to anyone who would listen. It was just that he was fabulous, famous Dylan McKay. And he kept smiling at her.

“Hey, I’m having a party on Saturday night. If you’re still here, I’d love for you to come. Maybe you can get Zane to get out and have a little fun.”

“Oh, thanks.” He’d caught her off guard. Wasn’t that what she needed right now, to be a wallflower at an A-list party? “I’m...uh, I’m not the partying type. Especially now.”

“Now?”

She shrugged. “I’m going through something and need a little R and R.”

“Ah...a breakup?”

She nodded. Her pride aside, she opened up a little to make her point. “Broken engagement as the wedding guests were taking their seats in church.”

“Ah...gotcha. I’ve been there once, a long time ago, when I was too young to know better. It turned out for the best, so believe me, I understand. Listen, I promise you, the party is low-key. Just a few friends and neighbors for a barbecue on the beach. I’d love to see you there.”

“Thanks.”

He smiled, and she smiled back. Then he pointed to her upper thigh, on the right side, closest to him. “Uh-oh. Looks like you missed a spot. You’re starting to burn.” Grabbing the sunscreen tube from the blanket, his long fingers brushed the soft underside of her hand as he set the sunscreen into her palm. “Better lather up and—”

“Stop corrupting my little sis, McKay.”

Jessica whipped her head around. Zane stood on the sundeck railing, staring at Dylan. His voice was a far cry from menacing, but the cool look he shot Dylan made her wonder what was up.

Dylan winked at her. “Maybe she wants to be corrupted.”

“And maybe you want to turn tail and go home. I don’t have to read that script, you know.”

“Whoops,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “He’s got me there. Maybe you can help me convince him to take this role. Wanna try? Since you’re about to turn into a fried tomato out here.”

Under normal circumstances, she was probably the least starstruck person in Beckon, Texas, but how could she not take Dylan up on his offer to go over a movie script? The notion got her juices flowing, and excitement buzzed around her like a busy little bee.

She glanced down at her legs. Oh, wow. Dylan was right. There were more than a few splotchy patches on her body. Time to get out of the sun. “Sure, why not?”

“Great.” He swiveled his head in Zane’s direction. “We’re coming up right now.”

Gallantly, he offered her his hand. She couldn’t very well refuse the gesture. She slipped one hand into his and simultaneously clutched her cover-up with the other as they rose together. He was too close for comfort, his eyes smiling on her, their hands entwined. Gently she pulled away, making herself busy zipping herself into a white cotton cover up and ignoring his rapt attention. He was a charmer, but thankfully his touch hadn’t elicited a jolt of any kind. She glanced at Zane, leaning by the railing, his sharp gaze fixed on her.

Something hot and unruly sizzled in the pit of her belly.

She ignored it and pushed on, climbing the steps with Dylan McKay following behind.

* * *

“Did he ask you out?” Zane probed the minute Dylan McKay exited the house. Looming over her, Zane was a bit foreboding, as if he was her white knight protecting her from the wicked prince of darkness. Geesh.

“Wh-what?”

“The guy couldn’t take his eyes off you down on the beach.”

She shrugged and picked up three empty glasses, reminiscent of her waitress days at Holcomb House.

After coming back into the house she’d left the two men to take a quick shower and slip on a sundress. She’d listened to Dylan’s script proposal to Zane with keen interest in a spacious light oak–paneled office on the main level of the house. The meeting took almost an hour. Then they’d had drinks in the cool shade of the patio. Iced tea for her. The men were content to knock back whiskey and soda.

Dylan was a charming lady’s man to the millionth degree, and she knew enough to steer clear. The idea that he’d be interested in a little ol’ school teacher from Beckon, Texas, was ridiculous. She had no illusions of anything else going on between them, and Zane should know that.

Her mama’s image flashed before her eyes. That was it. She bet her mother put Zane up to watching out for her, making sure her tender heart didn’t get broken again. Well, heck. She’d let him off the hook, but not without giving him some grief. Her chin up, she said, “He invited me to his beach party Saturday night. It was just a friendly invitation.”

Zane’s mouth tightened into a snarl and he snorted. “Doubtful.”

“I told him I probably wouldn’t go.”

“Good.” Zane nodded, satisfied. “You don’t need to get involved with him. He’s—”

“Out of my league?”

His eyes widened. “Hell, no.”

“Well, he is. And I know it all too well. Heck, my life is messy enough right now. There’s no room for romance, though it’s absurd to think of Dylan McKay actually being into me.”

Zane immediately reached out to grab her arm. Surprised, she jerked from his touch, and the glasses she held nearly slipped from her hand. “Don’t put yourself down, Jess.”

A jolt sprang to life, spiraling out of control where the strong fingers of his bandaged hand pressed into her skin. Sharpness left Zane’s dark eyes, and he gave her a bone-melting look. “I was going to say, he would never appreciate you. You’re special, Jess. You always have been.”

Because she was Janie’s sister.

Zane held dear her sister’s memory, closing his heart around it and not allowing anyone else into his life. He was a sought-after hunky bachelor, but he’d been true to Janie’s love even now, years later. Jessica understood she was only here because Zane was too nice a guy to refuse her mama a favor. “Thank you.”