Like taking a picture of my feet in the sand and sending it to Lucy with a sappy message.
He set out at a jog, heading north where the shore curved and came to an end at the inlet. The water rushed over the beach, but the waves were peaceful. The surfers would stay home today. He stuck to the packed sand and avoided the layer of seaweed that had washed in with the high tide. He still remembered the first time he’d accidentally stepped on a jellyfish as a kid. The damn thing had been hiding beneath a pile of seaweed and trash. One sting and he’d learned his lesson. But he still ran barefoot on the beach, willing to run on the edge of trouble.
“Jared?”
He slowed his pace at the familiar female voice.
“Jared Mitchell?” the woman called again. She was gaining on him.
One glance over his left shoulder confirmed his suspicion. Delaney Mayor glided over the sand, her long, athletic build carrying her closer and closer. Born and raised in Palm Beach, Delaney was a hard-working, single mother who found time to sit on the local town council. She’d married a New York hedge fund manager while attending college. And divorced him shortly after graduation when she returned home to run the family business and raise her daughter.
He stopped running. If he was lucky, he could keep their early morning catch-up brief before they went their separate ways.
“Delaney.” Jared rested his sweaty palms on his thighs. The last time he’d seen her—New Year’s Eve at a Palm Beach charity ball—she’d wrapped her arms around him as if she didn’t plan to let go. The time before that, they’d been naked on the beach.
“Mind if I join you?” She jogged in place at his side, her sleek, black ponytail swishing from side to side behind her, barely grazing her shoulders. “I’m going to the tip of the island today.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “Sure.” Then, he started off, setting a punishing pace that he hoped would keep her focused on running.
“I heard you were back,” she said, easily matching his speed. “Business?”
“Always.”
“That’s too bad. You should spend more time here. You can’t beat the weather.”
“No, you can’t,” he murmured. He remembered why he’d placed her in the one-night stand column. Delaney spoke her mind. Every detail. She’d talked straight up to, and after, he’d made her come with her back pressed into the sand. And she hadn’t screamed, “Fuck me, Jared.” She’d praised his shoes. The expensive, designer loafers he’d kicked off while preparing to blow her mind.
“Don’t you miss the sunshine while you’re up in New York?” she asked.
Right now, I’m missing oxygen from keeping up this pace, he thought.
“The sun shines there too.” He panted the words, pulling back slightly.
“I know.” She slowed too. “But it’s not the same. You look at home here. I can’t escape the feeling you belong right here at the beach on a summer morning. Don’t you feel it?”
He shrugged and glanced to the right, out at the water sparkling in the early morning light.
He moved with ease through Manhattan. The city pulsed with life and excitement. When he was there, he went with New York’s rhythm. The hustle made sense to him. But he could slip out of that fast pace as easily as he’d stepped into it.
And come home to south Florida. A place that hadn’t made a damn bit of sense growing up.
But he wasn’t a kid anymore. He wasn’t living on the other side of the bridge with his mom. He wasn’t flailing, wondering what the hell would happen to him if his mother went to the bar and forgot to come home. For the first time, he knew what he wanted out of south Florida.
Lucy.
He stopped running and planted his bare feet in the firm, damp sand. “Delaney, can I ask a favor?”
She jogged to his side and smiled up at him. Not that she
had to look far. At close to six feet tall, his former one-night stand stood a few inches shorter than him.
“Ask away,” she said.
“Take a picture of me looking out at the ocean, capturing the light on the water. The clear sky. All of it.” He reached for the pocket in his running shorts. Shit. He’d left his phone at home. “Another time. I didn’t bring my cell.”
“I have mine.” She unzipped a side pocket in her fitted running tank and withdrew a slim phone. Then she jogged back a few steps. “Turn around, handsome.”
He shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. “No. I want the shot from behind.”