Page 54 of The Fate Factor

I bark a laugh. “Oh, you’rethatkind of townie, huh?”

“I’m just saying.” He looks down at me, mischief sparking.

“I wasn’t a tourist. I was a… summer resident.”

“Same thing.” He shrugs in a way that’s clearly meant to get under my skin. It works.

“It most certainly is not.”

“Prove it.” He jumps to his feet. “Swim with me.”

“What? In thewater?”

“Hard to swim in sand.”

Before I can argue, he’s made quick work of the buttons on his overshirt. He shrugs it off, then, with barely a quick glance over his shoulder, and zero warning for me, he shoves his jeans down over his hips, stepping out of them as he walks.

I nearly swallow my tongue. He’s standing there in a T-shirt and a pair of skintight, royal blue boxer briefs. They leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. When he gets in the water, they’ll be wet and stuck to those thick, hockey player thighs and… everywhere else. I press a hand to my cheek.

“Someone’s going to see you!” I shout after him. Though, I know that’s not true.

He smiles over his shoulder like the devil himself. “Let ‘em.”

Of course, I take that as explicit permission to look at every magnificent inch of him. Wide shoulders, a slight bow to his legs.I remember that from the vision, how much I liked his body, or what I could see of it.

He has another tattoo on the back of his calf that I haven’t seen yet—a line of pine trees that wrap around the muscle. His body is like a treasure hunt. There’s a scar just below it, jagged and dark.

“Where’d you get that one?” I shout. “On your leg.”

“The trees?”

“No, the scar.”

He looks down. “Fell through a skylight when my buddies and I were on his parents' roof.” When I gasp, he adds, “Not all the way through. Just my leg.”

“You’re a menace.”

“Reformed.”

I watch him walk into the frigid water of the Atlantic in October, and I seriously doubt it. I swear this man has changed my DNA, because it sends a thrill through me.

“Are you coming?” he asks.

Am I? This seems incredibly reckless swimming off this rocky beach, pitch dark water, but Jamie’s standing there, looking at me with my favorite smile, all that skin beckoning me.

I’m getting to my feet before I even realize what I’m doing, brushing the sand from my thighs and walking toward him with my smile caught in my teeth. I shuck my skirt off as I go, then Jamie’s hoodie and my sweater underneath it. When they fall to my feet, Jamie’s eyes turn as black as the ocean.

Inside, my heart takes off in a canter, and so do I, running toward the surf. I squeal when my toes touch the water, but I keep going until I reach him. “You’re crazy,” I say, breathless from the cold water hitting the backs of my knees.

“Let’s be crazy together, then.” He’s staring between us, biting his lip so hard I want to press my thumb there to check for blood.

“Okay.” It’s just a whisper, but it’s enough for him to take the reins. He steps backward, water hitting the bottom of his boxers,darkening them, and when I follow, he smiles, sliding his hands over my shoulders, down to my waist, then back up, the hem of my tank top caught on his thumbs. Cold air hits my stomach, the bottom of my breasts, and my hips tilt toward his, seeking heat. He stops when my tank is up around my rib cage, pausing to let me decide the rest. It’s an easy decision. I’m completely under this spell.

I take over, lifting the cotton over my breasts, and freeing my arms. Jamie takes it from me, casting a web of goosebumps over my skin as his eyes trail over me. I’ve worn a simple black bra. Cotton. But I’m not self-conscious. Fate promised me this man and I’d like to collect now, thankyouverymuch.

Jamie’s eyes are hooded, lips slightly parted. He’s so serious right now, tension thicker than the black water swirling between us.

I’m serious too when I tell him, “Your turn.” And God that grin. It’s my final undoing.

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