Page 4 of Hooked on a Feeling

A very healthy-looking man with light brown hair that had obviously been kissed by the sun. He was tall. He hadn’t spotted her watching him yet. His gaze was turned toward the ocean, and Starr took in the deep valleys of muscles across his glistening, tattooed torso. A white shirt was tucked into the back of his shorts, flying behind him as if he’d taken it off midrun and shoved it back there. She swallowed. She’d always appreciated a man who looked like that.

The runner swung his gaze forward, and his eyes landed on hers.

She quickly looked away, not wanting to be caught staring at his glorious physique. The sound of his footfalls stopped, and a large splash broke the silence.

* * *

What the actual hell? John shook his head, making the water rivulets disperse across the water. He couldn’t help but laugh at himself. Had he really just fallen into the water because he was distracted by a scantily clad female arranged in a position that made him think of sex? Serves me right.

At least the water felt good, giving him a nice cooldown from his eight-mile run. He patted the armband on his shoulder. His phone was still there, which was a good sign. Even though the phone claimed it was waterproof up to so many meters, he’d never tested the theory, so he hoped the claim was true.

“There’s a ladder over there.”

He glanced toward the voice—it was her. Aw, hell. Nothing like first impressions. “Thanks.” As he swam to the ladder, it occurred to him that maybe she was a local because how else would she know that the obscure ladder was where it was? But why hadn’t he ever seen her out there before?

He pulled himself up and out of the water and stood still, giving the water a chance to drip from his body. His discarded shirt was halfway submerged in the water, hanging on the edge of the dock where he’d tripped.

“Nothing like making a big splash for a first impression.” The woman bent down and retrieved his shirt for him, taking it upon herself to wring the water out.

“I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Now that he was able to focus, he definitely didn’t know her. But she made his heart skip a beat with the look she was giving him.

“What were you watching?” Her cheeks pinkened. She was extremely attractive. Her body was what he would expect since she was clearly someone who did yoga more than once a week. Lean and muscular. A brunette. He was six four, and she was only a few inches shorter than he was, so that had to put her at six feet. Maybe five ten or eleven.

“Isn’t that answer obvious?” He smirked. “It’s not every day you find someone doing yoga on the docks.” With her cut muscles, she looked strong, and John found nothing sexier in a woman. Well, maybe her ass, but since she was facing him, he couldn’t get a really good glimpse of that. But he approved of what he had seen of it when it was pointed toward the sky. Each of her arms had dips where her triceps and biceps met. Her stomach was flat and cut, just like her arms.

She looked away as if she couldn’t think of anything else to talk about. She offered him his shirt. “Here you go.” She put her other hand out in greeting. “I’m Starr.”

He gripped her hand and smiled, letting out a chuckle at his bonehead move. His younger brothers would get a kick out of this. “I’m John. It’s nice to meet you. You live around here?” Something about her made him feel different. It was as if they’d known one another in a past life. He was drawn to her. She was so dang cute that it was hard on his chest.

Her gaze went to the cottage house next to The Beach House. “Temporarily. What about you? On vacation?”

John found it slightly annoying that she wasn’t more forthcoming. He knew that if you asked people questions and gave them the time to respond, they would tell you more than they needed to. With this woman, she was keeping things tight to her chest. “Born and raised.”

She gave him another shy smile and gestured to his wet clothing. “At least you’ll dry off quickly with the heat.”

“That, and my job is just across the bridge, so I’m not worried.”

She glanced behind her shoulder. “That explains why you’re jogging here. Do a lot of people jog along this route?”

John’s eyes went to Blue Horizon’s office building. Any one of his siblings could look out their office window and see that he’d fallen in the water. Hopefully, no one had happened to be looking at that precise moment. He sure as fuck hoped Judge wasn’t slacking off, peeping through his telescope. “Sometimes. Some folks don’t like having to wait for the bridge, so they avoid this route and go down to the path along the beach. Plus, the view is better down there. Nothing worth seeing up here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You mean because this place is clearly no longer open?” She gestured to the marina. Her tune changed in a heartbeat. The defensive tone made John wonder what was up. Did she have good memories of the old Beach House?

“Clearly. No risk of tripping there.” He pointed to the loose board partly responsible for his dip into the bay. “Plus, look over there.” He pointed toward the ocean. “Beautiful waves. Lots of people. Shops. Not to mention some folks like running in the sand.”

It was clear he’d pissed her off, but he wasn’t sure how. He hadn’t said anything that was untrue or rude. She folded her arms over her breasts. “Well, maybe the owners can fix some things, and it wouldn’t be such an eyesore.”

John laughed. “Doubtful. It’s been going downhill for years. The family clearly doesn’t care about it.” Which was exactly why John thought buying it could be a great opportunity. Especially Blue Horizons. He could see the new sign in his mind. Emerald Port Yacht Club: A Blue Horizons Company.

“I care about it.” Her voice rose in an abundance of anger.

“Okay.” John had definitely missed something. “And so do I, but who are we? I’m not even sure who inherited the property, but they’ve clearly abandoned it. It’s been like this since the old man died. There’s nobody to do anything with it except the old caretaker, and he’s so old, he can’t keep it up by himself. It’s a shame.” John gestured to the restaurant, where he imagined rodents upon rodents claiming ownership. “The place has so much potential, and they don’t give a shit about it.”

Starr’s back went ramrod straight. “Listen here, you.” She pointed a finger at him. “You have no idea what is going on with this property or what the owners think.” She pointed to her chest. “I’m the new owner. I’m in charge. This place will look amazing when I’m done with it.”

John laughed. A true laugh. “No way. You gonna tear it down and start over?” If there was one thing John did know, it was running a business, and he knew how hard it was to find the right people to get the work done. She may have a fine ass—and damn, that mouth, set like it was in an obstinate pout—but she likely didn’t know the first thing about business. New owner? Something didn’t add up. “I get you’re the new owner and you’re happy with your purchase, but this place may take a full year to get fixed up. Look.” He pointed to the main building. “It needs new paint. Railings need fixed. Landscaping. The docks are rotting in some areas. If you even think to reopen the restaurant—man, you’ll have so much work cut out for you.”

“I don’t know who you think you are, telling me what I can and can’t do, but this is none of your business. My grandfather ran this place like the diamond she is, and the property deserves to look that way yet again.”

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