Her Moonlit Gamble
Read Her Moonlit Gamble Online
Authors: Emma Jay
CHAPTER ONE
Joslyn Alexander dropped into the folding chair and propped her sandy feet on Andrew Norris's thigh. He shoved them off, scowled as he dusted himself off, and pushed her glass of champagne closer. She took it and drank, savoring the chilled liquid. Hmm, not hers. She'd been out on the dance floor too long for the drink to still be cool. His, maybe?
"Why didn't you get out there and dance with us?"
He made a face. "You got your one dance."
"Well, you're a fun wedding date." Okay, not a date, exactly. He was her best friend acting as her date, and only because he wanted to come to Hawaii, where she was a bridesmaid in her friend Haven's wedding. She had to admit he cleaned up pretty nice, his brown hair just growing out of its military cut, his lean jaw shaved for the first time since he'd gotten his discharge papers after ten years in the service. He wore what passed for formal wear at a Hawaiian wedding--slacks, a white shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, with the top few buttons undone, his sports jacket draped over the back of his chair.
They'd been here a week doing wedding and tourist things, and were staying another week to try some crazier expeditions. Tomorrow they were zip-lining over acres of rainforest. She might need something stronger than champagne to convince her to do that.
She tucked her bare feet under Andrew's thigh, dragged his plate in front of her and leaned back to watch the dancing. She'd forgotten Andrew didn't care to dance or she would have made that a condition of the invitation. Maybe she'd snag the groom Eric's hot brother Ian to dance with her--but no, he was mooning over Bailey, the maid of honor. And the other bridesmaid Elizabeth was wrapped up in her hunky surfer's arms. Joslyn didn't like the unsettled feeling growing in the pit of her stomach, didn't want to name it, though she had a feeling she knew what it was.
She nudged his thigh with her toe. "Come on. I don't want to just sit here."
"Go dance, then."
She sat forward. "I think it's odd that a man who likes to jump off cliffs is afraid to shake his butt on the dance floor."
"Not afraid, just not interested. Besides, the view's better from a stationary position." His green-eyed gaze flicked to the top of her strapless gown and he winked.
"Friends don't stare at friends' boobs." But she couldn't deny the little frisson of delight that ran through her. Andrew was a hottie, especially since he'd come back from his second tour in Afghanistan, all big and buff, with a six-pack that had every woman on the beach watching him earlier today. But he'd long ago earned his place firmly in the Friend Zone when he'd helped her through her mom's illness and funeral when they were in high school. Hell, he was the only family she had now. She'd never risk losing him by doing something as stupid as getting naked with him.
"They do when they're moving like yours were."
"Gah!" She pushed out of her chair and headed back toward the dance floor when a more upbeat song started, one that had the older couples abandoning the floor and the younger ones surging forward, some of them singing along to the popular dance tune. She grabbed Elizabeth away from Max and the two women started dancing. The next thing she knew, hands closed around her waist and turned her around.
"This, I can do," Andrew said, and proceeded to move with more grace than she imagined a man of his size would have. She slowed her own movements to watch him. Damn, there was something about a man who could dance, who had control of his body that way, shifting his hips in time to the music, gliding his hands through the air. If she hadn't been so mesmerized by his movements, she would be amused that a man who claimed not to like to dance could do it so well.
Something glinted in his green eyes when he moved forward toward her, his chest almost brushing hers, before he backed away, pivoting on a dime. She stepped forward, boldly, and curved her hand around the back of his neck, holding his gaze.
He chuckled, picked her up, and spun her around his body, jitterbug-style, before setting her back on the dance floor. Applause sounded around them as she stared at him in surprise. She knew he was strong, but...
He finished out the song with her and backed away, off the dance floor.
"Oh, come on, Andrew! Seriously?"
"You wanted to dance. We danced." He turned and headed for the bar.
She scowled. Stubborn man. She didn't want to steal Elizabeth from Max again, and Bailey had disappeared, so she followed him. He turned and held up a hand.
"I don't want you hungover for the zip line tomorrow."
"Then give me something to do besides drink," she challenged.
That glint in his eyes again, the one her brain wasn't sure she wanted to explore. Her hormones, however, were all on board.
"How long before they leave and we can get out of here?" he asked, glancing toward the bride and groom.
She shrugged. "They're paying for this party. They can stay as long as they want."
"I guess. I just thought maybe we could go for a swim after."
A moonlight swim. Something inside her shifted at the thought. Romantic and sexy, not things she did with her best friend.
Too risky.
"Sounds fun," she managed.
"Just don't get so drunk you drown," he warned, and turned back to his seat.
Holy shit, what was going on here? Joslyn watched his ass as he walked away.
Friends don't stare at friends' asses.
But suddenly, staring wasn't all she wanted to do.
Ridiculous. Andrew was her friend, not at all the kind of guy she dated. Andrew was physical--into sports and adventure--and while Joslyn could appreciate that, she preferred more cerebral men, and only dated doctors. It made for some drama in the ER, but she'd learned to deal.
She wished she could grab Haven or Bailey and talk about this sudden shift, but no. They were busy with their guys. There had to be a logical explanation. Maybe it was just because they'd spent the last week practically in each other's pocket, doing everything together, that this awareness had bloomed. And maybe a little bit of champagne. She was going to have to cut out drinking if they were going to spend the next week here without any distractions but Andrew's adventures.
***
"You didn't fight hard for that bouquet," Andrew said an hour later as they walked down to the beach from the hotel. The moon was a waxing crescent, so didn't give off much light, but tiki torches lined the sand, their reflections flickering in the water.
She jammed a pilfered bottle of champagne into the sand. "We'd already decided Elizabeth should get it."
"Well, that makes the whole ritual kind of pointless, doesn't it?"
"Not to her."
"What, you think she doesn't know?" he asked. "Of course she knows." He stripped off his shirt. "You think she'll marry him and move out here permanently? Break up y'all's little group?"
She dragged her gaze away from his broad shoulders and flat abs. They'd been swimming countless times in the past. Why had she never noticed how ripped he was? She shouldn't be noticing now, but dang, the Army had done women everywhere a favor. "She loves him. She's happy. It will be harder for us than for her."
"I don't know. Starting all over for some guy. Friends thousands of miles away. New job."
Joslyn winced and pulled her cover-up over her head. She hadn't thought about all the adjustments Elizabeth would have to make in the name of love. Of course, Joslyn had never been in love, so she couldn't say if it would be worth it or not. She tossed the garment onto the bottle of champagne to hide it from any passers-by, and looked up to see Andrew watching her. A second passed before she realized her nipples were hard and poking against the the white bikini top.
He noticed. His gaze flicked from her breasts to the sand, and she couldn't be sure, but she thought he blushed.
Heat flooded her and she didn't know what to do about it, so she ran past him and into the water, not caring if he followed.
The water cooled her skin, but not this thing that burned inside her. It must be wedding fever, from all her friends hooking up, getting laid. She hadn't been laid in awhile. Maybe that was what this was. But she wouldn't scratch that itch with her best friend.
He grabbed her ankle under the water, making her scream as he dragged her toward him. She went underwater, the Pacific Ocean washing away her wedding make-up and hair. She surfaced, shoving the mess back and lunged at him, both hands against his chest--which was like a brick wall--and instead of knocking him back, she bounced off him and staggered back. He grinned, catching her arm to steady her.
"Race you."
She looked out over the ocean. "To where? California?"
"Even with that palm tree." He pointed to a place on the beach.
They'd raced in the past and he'd always given her a head start because he was about a foot taller than her, so she edged ahead.
"Not so fast, cheater," he said, looping his hand around her waist and pulling her against his side, skin to skin, and holy shit. She yanked away as soon as she could but felt the imprint of his body on her flesh, each finger on her waist, his abs against her side.
Instead she focused on his gesture. "You're way longer than me," she reminded him. "Your arms--" Gorgeous defined arms. God bless the U.S. Army. "Are two of mine."
"Wah wah wah." But he picked her up by the waist and set her closer to shore, and a little ahead of him. "You can say 'go,' then."
"All right." Her whole body tensed in preparation. "Go!"
She heard him splutter a protest as she dove into the water and swam as hard as she could, tough even with the light waves rolling against her. She tried to keep her eye on the shore but forgot which palm tree he'd said, and she could hear his splashing behind her. She stopped when they came even with the palm tree she was pretty sure he meant, but he swam right past her.
"Hey!" she shouted when he stopped about ten feet away. "This is the tree." She pointed.
"Right, but it's up here."
"Cheater."
"Want a do-over?" he challenged, striding through the water toward her.
She tried not to focus on the water running down his bare chest and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. She did, but, "I want a drink more."
Anything to cool the desire burning inside her.
***
Andrew woke with a grunt and squinted against the early morning sunlight. Beneath him, a nubby towel dug into his skin as the sand shifted beneath him. The rhythm of the waves and crying of sea birds echoed in his pounding head. He moved just enough to get his bearings. On the beach, an empty bottle of champagne on the sand...and Joslyn Alexander asleep against his chest, her head on his bicep.
How many times had he fantasized about this, about waking up next to her, skin to skin, his morning wood poking against her belly? One of her legs was tucked between his and her arm was across his waist. He eased back to look at her, not wanting to wake her, to disturb the moment. Sand dusted her cheek, and some of her wedding make-up still clung to her eyes, despite their time in the ocean. Her lips parted on heavy breaths. Hell, she'd fallen asleep on his couch watching movies with him before and he'd heard her snore. Not now, though, just the deep breathing of the truly relaxed.
Or the truly drunk. That was the only explanation for falling asleep on the beach. Her pretty breasts pressed against his ribs, and he could feel her nipples. God help him. He spent most of the past twelve years trying to forget she had nipples.
All right, maybe he didn't try that hard. She was his best friend, but she was also gorgeous and sexy. And had firmly placed him in the "Friends" camp. He got it, really, he did, but Christ, no other girl he knew lived up to the standard he'd set. Only Joslyn.
He rested his hand on her hip, just above her bathing suit, and she stirred, arching into him as she stretched awake, her eyes popping open as her belly pressed into his erection.
"Shit," she muttered, then blinked as she rolled away and looked up at the sky. "How much did we drink?"
"We?" He stayed in the same position, not wanting to advertise his hard-on to the early beach-goers. "I had a couple slugs. You drank most of it. Hope you're not too drunk to go on the zip line." If he sat up just right, he could hide his hard-on, so he did, looping his arms over his knees. He glanced down to see one cup of her bikini had shifted, giving him an awesome glimpse of side boob. Not helping.
She frowned up at him. "I didn't kiss you, did I?"
A moment there he'd thought she might, when she was talking about weddings and bouquets as other things she never talked about. She'd leaned forward, her eyes on his lips. He'd wanted her to move forward at the same time he knew they'd both regret their first kiss being inspired by alcohol and he'd eased away, taking a drink from the bottle since they hadn't thought to bring glasses.