Dirty Secrets

A Mermaid

Jessica chewed slowly and closed her eyes. She made a satisfied groaning sound, then swallowed. "Oh my God. This bread is incredible. I think you're going to do real well here on Palmira. People will be standing in line for this."

I grinned and licked my lips.

"May I have a bit more, please?" Jessica asked shyly. "I didn't have time for dinner, and this is really delicious."

"Absolutely. I'm glad you like it. I grew up in and around bakeries. This is my grandmother's bread recipe that's famous in New Orleans."

"Wow. I never realized you had that kind of talent."

"I have a lot of talents you don't know about."

For a flash, her eyes met mine. They teased. Tormented. "Oh, really? I think I sampled a few of those talents, if I remember correctly."

I was shocked she was being so flirtatious, that she hadn't wanted to talk about the pregnancy scare or the aftermath. It was a welcome surprise, as far as I was concerned.

I grinned and cocked an eyebrow. Desire flooded my body, overwhelming me with its intensity. The way she looked at me was both familiar and mysterious, and I wondered how hot we'd be together now that we were older. A vision of her on her knees staring up at me raced through my mind.

Damn...

I bit my lip, trying to shove all the filthy thoughts away. "Your eyes haven't changed."

"What do you mean?" she asked, shifting her body so she was mere inches away.

I drank in her green-eyed gaze. "They're still the most beautiful I've ever seen in my life. Remember what I told you five years ago?"

"That my eyes could see what was in your heart?" Her voice was low, almost a whisper.

I nodded. "Yep. That. It's still true."

This was dangerous. How could I even think about hooking up with her in my present situation? Turning away, I took to the bread with a giant serrated knife.

As I sliced, her words cut into me.

"I'm not sure I can see anything anymore. It's been a long time. Too long. I guess too much happened between us."

I handed her another slice of bread. "Has it, though? What's five years? Five years is nothing."

"Nothing and everything. You know, I was ready to have our baby, had I been pregnant."

I inhaled and rubbed at my scalp, not knowing what to say. I glanced over, and her eyes looked haunted. "I know. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry about how it all went down."

"I am too, but I guess it all worked out for the best. I mean, can you imagine if I had really been pregnant? At seventeen?" She forced out a little laugh, then paced the kitchen. "But I am curious. Why are you here on Palmira?"

I cleared my throat, relieved she was moving on, but still not sure exactly how to respond. It both thrilled and scared me that all my feelings for Jessica had returned full blast.

"Here's the short answer: I served in Afghanistan. I survived a bombing and held a friend as he died. The U.S. government pinned some medals on me. Then I went to work at my family's corporate headquarters. My dad wanted to expand into Florida, Palmira specifically, so I packed up my truck and drove down here."

That was enough for now.

"I remember you talking about the Marines and how your dad was really into them. You weren't sure whether you wanted to enlist," she said quietly.

I scratched my arm, the one with the scars, and stared at my feet. "Yep. But I did. Family legacy and all that."

I looked up, and she was staring at me, horrified. She put her hand on her forehead, and stammered, "Oh! God. I'm an idiot. I just made the connection. That's why your arm... I saw it today at the beach. Did you get injured?"

I nodded. I stepped closer and pushed my shirtsleeve up over my bicep, revealing the patchwork of mangled skin and tattoos. "Yeah. It was a roadside bomb in Farah. I was lucky. If I'd been sitting in the backseat, I would have lost the arm—or worse. Two guys in my Humvee were killed."

Jessica's mouth opened, then closed. Her bottom lip trembled, and she looked like she was going to cry. People were affected in different ways by my wounds, and I'd never gotten used to any of the reactions.

"Is that why you got the tattoos? To cover the scars?"

Something about her eyes made me want to talk, so I continued, not knowing whether I was revealing too much. "Some of 'em I got before the bombing. I got those touched up afterward, but it's difficult to get tattoos over scar tissue. Some I got later on the good skin. I did it to remember."

I tapped on a detailed black-and-white tattoo of a dog tag and a ball-and-chain necklace that snaked down his forearm. "This one's for my friend Steve. His tags," I added softly. "He was in the back of the Humvee, took the brunt of the explosion that day. I got him out of the vehicle and pulled him to another Humvee, but I couldn't save him. He died on the way to the field hospital. He was my best friend while I was over there. From North Carolina."

My voice cracked, and she pressed her fingertips to my arm, tracing the raised scar edges.

Nerve damage didn't allow me to feel the full force of her touch, but my brain responded and sent sparks through my body and heart. My brow twisted into a scowl. I wasn't sure how else to respond. I hadn't allowed many people to touch my scars, and here she was, stroking my arm softly as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You turned into a good man, Leo Villeneuve," she whispered.

I swallowed hard. Her fingers felt so soothing. Caring. Right. But her words ripped me apart. Just how good was I? Not very.

She removed her hand, and my stomach knotted. I craved more of her touch. "I'm sorry that happened to you," she murmured. She pointed to the colorful, sexy mermaid with the blonde hair on my other arm, on my good shoulder. With her index finger, she traced the length of the art, sending intense shivers down my back.

This, I could feel, and it was almost too much to bear.

"What about this one?" she murmured, tapping on the mermaid.

I swallowed, and my voice came out in a rasp. I'd gotten the tattoo after basic training in South Carolina one rainy night when I was thinking of her.

"That's for a girl I once knew. The first time I kissed her, it was on the beach in Florida. About five years ago."

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