twisting it, he felt sorry for her having to deliver the message. In the interests of being honest.
‘No one is good at it,’ he said.
‘I do want to try to explain. Because...because I’ve come to really like you.’
Like. It was a runner-up word. A consolation prize word. A loser word. How could he have exposed himself again to this?
‘Continue,’ he said gruffly.
‘My ex was a good-looking guy with the charisma to go with it. I was always having to look over my shoulder to see what woman was pursuing him, what woman he was encouraging.’
‘He was a player, right?’ He practically spat out that word he was getting sick of hearing applied to him.
She nodded. ‘I never want to endure a relationship with someone like that again. I can’t live with that feeling that I’m not the only woman in my man’s life. To be always suspicious of girls he works with, girls he encounters anywhere. I want to come first, last and in between with a man. Not...not always feeling humiliated and rejected.’
Jesse clenched his fists by his sides. He wasn’t that guy. How could she be so wrong about him?A nagging inner voice gave him the answer. Because that’s the way you appear. He’d done such a good job of acting the player to cover up his fears and pain that he’d given Lizzie the wrong impression of him.
It was true, over the years he’d been flattered by all that female attention. But he didn’t want it now. He didn’t want people taking bets on his marital status. Most of all he didn’t want Lizzie so unfairly lumping him in a category of cheats and heartbreakers.
‘What makes you think I’m like your ex-husband? You’re implying that he cheated on you—I’ve never cheated or been unfaithful to a girlfriend. Never.’
‘I...I believe you,’ she said but her eyes told a different story. She’d stuck him in the same category as her ex and nothing he’d done—or the reputation he had acquired—had changed her mind.
He was not the guy she thought he was. He had to prove that to her.
‘What happened at the wedding to cause you to think I’d gone off with another woman was a misunderstanding,’ he said. ‘So what makes you think I live up to my reputation?’
Her smile was shaky. ‘Women adore you. Not just young attractive women who want to date you. Older women dote on you. Ex-girlfriends like Evie want you still in their life. Even children are fans. Amy was beside herself with excitement when I told her on the phone last night that Uncle Jesse would be here when she got back from France. You were such a hit with her at the wedding when you danced her right around the room.’
He frowned. ‘And that’s a bad thing? Would you prefer I was the kind of guy women loathed? Feared even?’
‘Of course not.’ She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. ‘I’m not getting this across at all well, am I? Fact is, it’s not all about you; it’s—’
He put up his hand. ‘Whoa. If you’re going to say “it’s not you; it’s me” forget it, I don’t want to hear that old cliché.’
‘What I’m trying to tell you is that I...I’m a jealous person.’ She looked down at her feet for a moment as if she was ashamed of her words before she faced him again. ‘A jealous woman and a chick-magnet guy are not a good combination, as I found out in my marriage. It wasn’t just his infidelity that ended it; my jealousy and suspicion made it impossible for us to live with each other.’
‘In my book, infidelity is unforgivable.’ He clenched his jaw.
She looked across him and out to sea as if gathering her words before she faced him again. ‘There...there can be shades of grey...’
He shook his head. ‘Fidelity is non-negotiable. No cheating, end of story. If either party cheats—the relationship is over. For good.’
Did she believe him? Or had she heard too many lies from that ex-husband to believe an honest guy?
Her brow furrowed. ‘That stance is not...not what I would have expected of you.’
‘You’ve been listening to gossips.’ He snorted in disgust. ‘What would they know about my private life? You think I don’t know about betrayal? You think I haven’t been hurt?’
‘I...I only know what I’ve heard.’ She bit down on her lower lip, her face a picture of misery.
‘I thought I’d found the woman I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. Turned out she was a cheat and a liar. But I don’t lie or cheat. Never have. Never will.’
‘I’m sorry, Jesse, if I got it wrong. But I can’t take risks when it comes to men. For my sake and for my daughter’s.’ Only then came that familiar tilt to her chin. ‘No matter how much I might want that man.’
He glanced down at the small scars on her hands and forearms. Scars she’d got in the kitchen, she’d told him, from burning oil and scalding steam and knives that had slipped. Now he realised she had scars on the inside too. Her ex-husband—and maybe before that her father—had chipped away at her trust, at her belief that she could inspire lasting love and fidelity. That she deserved to be cherished and honoured.
Whoa. He wasn’t thinking the L word here. Just the crazy attraction. Then the friendship. And the other L word. He realised how much in these last few days he had grown to like and admire Lizzie. In this context, ‘like’ was not a loser word. It was a feeling that built on that instant physical attraction to something that packed a powerful punch.
Lizzie was right—the reasons they both had for keeping the other at friend status were still there. He didn’t want to put his heart on the line again and he didn’t want to risk wounding her with further scars.
He ached to take her in his arms again but had no intention of doing so. It wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t need a man like him in her life.
‘I’d like to give you a big hug but...but I don’t think it’s a good idea,’ he said, trying to sound offhand but failing dismally, betrayed by the hitch in his voice.
Warm colour flushed her cheeks. ‘I agree. And...and no more kissing. I can’t deal with how it makes me feel.’
He realised how vulnerable she was under that blunt-speaking front.
‘No more kissing,’ he agreed though he hated the idea of never being able to kiss her again.
She looked up at him, eyes huge, hair a silver cloud around her face. ‘Jesse, I...I wasn’t lying when I said how much I liked you. I do count you as a friend now.’
He nodded. ‘Yeah. I like you too. We’re friends.’ But he didn’t offer his hand to shake on it. No touching. No kissing. No physical contact of any kind. That was how it would have to be. No matter how difficult that stance would be to maintain when he had to see her every day.
He looked towards the water. It was still a low swell. Still good for swimming. And he needed to get in there. Physical activity was always his way of dealing with stress and difficult situations. ‘Are you going to swim?’ he asked her.
She shook her head. ‘I should be getting back to the café.’
Good. He didn’t want her to join him in that water. Splashing around with her in a wetsuit moulded close to her curves would be more than he could endure.
‘I’m going in,’ he said. ‘This is my favourite beach and I want to spend as much time as I can here while I’m home.’
She walked back to where her towel and bag were on the sand. She picked up her pink towel and turned her back to him as she swapped his towel for hers. Her back view was beautiful, with her hair tumbling around her shoulders, her narrow waist and shapely behind. He wanted her but he couldn’t have her. He turned his