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kick off her flats, make a dash to the shoreline and dig her toes into the warm sand. Soak up enough sunshine to get her through a Chicago winter. More than once Ronny had told her the ocean flowed through her veins. And that she’d be back sooner than she’d thought...that she’d always come back.

      By the time she turned to Hector he’d passed the cart to another bell attendant and was holding her things in his large, tanned hands.

      “So I’m guessing you’re from Temptation Bay,” he said. “Went to school here.” It was a statement, not a question. “Your family, did they live at Waverly Hills?”

      Jessica laughed, unsure if she should be insulted. But in truth her bloodline extended to both sides of the track. Her dad’s clan were townies, less charitably known as the fish people. Ronny came from a long line of fishermen who’d settled on the coast generations ago. The hill people were newbies, relatively speaking, and consisted primarily of wealthy tourists who’d bought prime land atop the bluffs and built second homes.

      Ultimately, some of the families made Temptation Bay their permanent residence. Jessica’s grandparents might’ve followed suit, if their only daughter hadn’t announced that she wanted to marry Ronny, a local surfer, who, despite his two championship titles and his big heart, they could never see as anything but a beach bum.

      Much as Jessica adored her dad, she knew her grandparents hadn’t been completely wrong. The next week they’d sold their gorgeous vacation home sitting high on the bluff and returned to Connecticut. Of course that hadn’t stopped their headstrong daughter.

      At eighteen, Victoria Danes had returned to Temptation Bay two weeks later, on her own for the first time, armed with determination and confidence born from a healthy sense of entitlement. The next day she and Ronny were married on the beach, the water lapping at their bare feet. By most accounts Jessica was born eight months later, give or take. The marriage had barely lasted two years after that.

      Noticing Hector’s odd look, she pulled herself back to the present. It took a moment to remember his question. “Any chance you know a local surfer named Ronny? He has a shack on the beach near the old docks.”

      “Sure, I know him,” he said, grinning. “Everybody knows Ronny.”

      “He’s my dad.”

      Hector’s dark eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “No kidding.”

      “No kidding.” She moved closer to the front desk when she realized a couple had slipped in ahead of her because she hadn’t been paying attention. “What about you? Your family lives here?”

      He nodded, still looking puzzled. “How long have you been away?”

      “Hmm...” It wasn’t a simple answer. Home every summer while she was in college. Three years of law school hadn’t given her much leisure time. Then while waiting to take the bar, she’d spent a month abroad with her mom and husband number four. “Not counting visits, about ten years.” Jessica wondered if he could hear the defensiveness that had crept into her voice. Probably not. Although Hector had somehow managed to identify her as a local in a matter of minutes, whereas Grant knew so little about her that he’d had the gall to ask her to help free a rapist.

      Generally she wasn’t quick to judge someone. But after being subjected to Sanford Burbidge, she wouldn’t put anything past him. The guy was a sociopath. She pitied his defense team. Which would not include her and she sure as hell didn’t need a weekend away to think about it. Although, the idea of starting over with a tainted reputation sticking to her like a shadow made her want to cry.

      Luckily, that didn’t make her any less glad to be here. She hadn’t realized just how much she needed this trip home.

      “So, you must surf, right?”

      “I used to.” She’d been pretty damn good, too. “But like I said, it’s been a long time.”

      “I bet once you get back on that board you’ll rock.”

      Jessica laughed. “I doubt I’ll be putting it to the test,” she said, estimating Hector to be in his midtwenties, about ten years younger than herself. So it wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t recognize him. It still made her a little sad, though. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d known just about everyone who lived on the other side of town.

      She stared past him at two women across the lobby waving frantically at her. The glare was awful with the bright sunlight flooding in. Perhaps she wasn’t the intended...

      Ginny?

      “Oh, my God, it’s Ginny Landry,” Jessica murmured, waving back.

      Harlow was with her...a little slimmer, quite a bit blonder. At least she was pretty sure it was Harlow, another member of their high school gang—the Fearless Four as they’d called themselves. But Ginny was the only classmate Jessica had seen since they’d graduated because Ginny still lived in Temptation Bay. Ironic since of all of them, Ginny had been on the fast track to become a concert pianist just like her late mother. But life often didn’t turn out as expected. Jessica could attest to that.

      It was her turn at the front desk. She stepped up and motioned for Ginny and Harlow to wait, just as a woman dressed in a black uniform brought them drinks.

      Check-in went smoothly, and when Hector told her he’d leave her bags in the suite so she could meet her friends, Jessica was grateful he hadn’t ditched her when she’d given him the chance.

      She tipped him well, and was about to veer toward the bar, but curiosity stopped her. “How did you know I’m from here?”

      “Easy,” Hector said, grinning. “You’ve got that laid-back beach vibe.”

      Jessica laughed. “Boy, would my coworkers disagree.”

      Of course the reunion was a big clue. He’d probably used the line on all of the attendees to boost his tips.

      She sighed at her own cynicism. Laid-back. Right.

      Ginny and Harlow were waving again, as if she hadn’t seen them. The lobby and bar were really jam-packed. Not a single empty table or seat, except for the one Ginny had a chokehold on.

      Jessica wove her way through the crowd, smiling and nodding, recognizing a few faces but unable to come up with names.

      “I should’ve known I’d find you guys near the booze,” she said as she reached them, momentarily losing her breath when Ginny abandoned the chair and pulled her into a huge hug.

      “I’m so glad you’re here,” Ginny said. “I couldn’t believe it when I got your email yesterday.”

      “Ditto for me. Now, quit hogging her.” Harlow was the athlete. Always in motion and winning awards. She’d almost made it to the Olympics before her life had been hijacked by injury. Clearly, she hadn’t let it stop her from staying in great shape.

      Jessica grunted. “Okay, you have to let me breathe,” she said when they locked her in from both sides. “Seriously.”

      Laughing, Ginny backed off first. “We better grab our seats. Where’s Ronny? Did he just drop you off and leave?”

      “He had a charter today. Some guys hired him to take them past Block Island to fish for marlin.” Jessica smoothed her white linen slacks before sitting. “I didn’t want him to lose the business. He had an accident that put him out of commission for a couple weeks, so I took a cab.”

      “What happened?” Ginny asked, sinking onto her chair.

      “It was a loose board on the old dock. I’ve asked him a hundred times to get the harbormaster to make some repairs.”

      “I thought he might have cracked up the Jeep again.”

      “He had a car accident? When?”

      “Maybe four months ago? I ran into him at the drugstore. He was filling a prescription, but I don’t think he was hurt too badly.”

      “So

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