Page 9 of Hooked on a Feeling

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Sorry to have bothered you.” John started to walk back toward the bridge, and Starr took a few strides to catch up to him.

She gripped his elbow. “No. Don’t go. Please. I need the…” She swallowed. What did she need exactly? A friend? A lover? An ear to listen to her? All of the above? “I don’t know anyone but you around here, and I’m dying from the solitude. I don’t have time to go out and meet anyone.”

“Ah. You’re pulling the classic ‘keep your friends close but your enemies closer’ tactic on me, aren’t you?”

Her pulse escalated, spreading warmth throughout her entire body. The man was charming. Endearing. Yes, an age-old enemy of the family. But damn. He was also as handsome as hell. “Exactly. What do you say? Coffee?”

He folded his arms across his chest as if he was seriously contemplating what she was asking. “A date?” he finally asked in a low, husky voice.

She laughed. “You’re exasperating. Can it just be a meeting between”—she struggled for the right word—“neighbors?”

John gripped the bottom of his chin with his thumb and forefinger, giving her a flirty smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute. It’s not every day I would go have coffee with a neighbor. But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

He thinks I’m cute? OMG, he thinks I’m cute. And he had no problems telling her. He was flirting with her. Wait. Was that flirting? “Are you flirting with me?” She stepped closer, and this time she caught a whiff of some masculine cologne—not the ocean water she’d smelled on him the first time they’d met.

“Am I flirting with you?” He leaned forward so their bodies were literally inches apart. “Do you want me to flirt with you, Starr?”

The way he asked her made her toes clench in her flip-flops. But the way the word Starr rolled off his tongue like a fine spoon of honey had her clenching other parts of her body. Parts she hadn’t used in a long damn time. What would be the harm in flirting? She did a quick scan of her brain. Found nothing. Yes, I would love for you to flirt with me. She rolled her eyes. “You wish.”

“Oh, is that right?” John looked around the marina as if he was hiding some big secret and then met her gaze. “I have a feeling if you were here strictly for pleasure and not business, you and I would have a lot of fun together.” The way he looked at her made her body tremble with need. His eyes held the promise that sure, they might be enemies, but he’d like nothing better than to ignore that and explore the fire burning between them. Because it was burning. The two times she’d been around him, her skin heated in places it hadn’t for ages. Her heart rate doubled in speed. Her mouth yearned for what he would taste like. Her fingertips longed to touch the perfect contours of his body and feel the heat of the sun along his torso.

“I’m Starr Young, remember?” She put emphasis on her last name. “You’ve been raised to make my life hell.”

John shrugged. “I spoke with your grandfather a time or two before he passed away. There might be a long-standing feud between my grandfather and your grandfather, but I’m a grown man, Starr. No one tells me what to do.”

She swallowed. He was definitely a grown man. Was he actually wanting to do more than make idle chitchat? He was implying that, but Starr was so far out of the game that she couldn’t be sure. Not to mention the fact that her grandfather and his had ended their friendship and made it clear to their families that they should stay away from each other, but John was kind of right. Wasn’t he? The two of them were adults. Neither of their grandparents were alive to harp on them about how wrong this was. Which brought her to her next thought: why did a friendship with him have to be wrong when it felt so right?

She lifted her chin. “No one tells me what to do either. Let’s go and enjoy that coffee.” She clutched her estimates in her hands and pointed to the coffee shop. “I assume that is okay with you?”

He nodded. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what had you so upset when I first walked up?”

She loosened her grip on the papers and stepped aside to let a bicyclist zoom by. She wanted someone to talk to who might understand the burden of the marina, but memories of her grandpa pointing so sternly at Blue Horizon’s offices still made her question herself. She glanced up at John. She was walking with him. She was an adult. But damn if she wasn’t second-guessing herself. “The marina needs a lot of work.”

“I can see that.”

Right. Of course. He lived here, so there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t notice the marina, even from the other side of the bridge. “It needs a lot of work, and the income isn’t what it used to be. I feel like I got thrown onto a sinking ship.”

“I can help you.”

Starr stopped walking. How could he offer something like that without even knowing her problems? And not to mention the long-ago feud. Why was he being so nice to her? “Thank you for your offer, but you can’t help me. Unless you have a lot of money that you’re just willing to give away, you can’t do anything for me.”

“Crowdfunding.” He shrugged and held the door to the coffee shop open for her. “People do it every day. I’m sure there would be a ton of people in this community who would throw in money to help save the beloved marina.”

They stood in line behind a few people, and she put a hand on her hip. “Are you some kind of angel? Where do you even come from?”

John barked out a laugh. Despite its brashness, it was still a pretty laugh. The guy was all around… handsome. “I come from here. Where else? Look, how about you order, and we can sit and talk it through. It sounds like you have a lot on your mind with no one to bounce ideas off.”

She stared at his profile. Why was he being so nice? What was his ulterior motive? Why was he giving her ideas to make the marina a better place?

He peeked over at her and nodded in the direction of the counter. “Order.”

She stepped up. “I’ll have a cucumber kale smoothie with a shot of protein and alfalfa.”

“And for you?” the barista asked John.

“I will take an iced coffee. Cream. No sugar.”

The barista rattled off the amount while Starr opened her knapsack for her debit card, but John beat her to it. His hand gripped her wrist. “Put it away. I’ve got this.” His hand was large, warm. Welcoming. She opened her mouth to argue then clamped it shut.

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