Must Be Crazy: (Melissa and Jackson) (A Jetty Beach Romance Book 2) Read Free Page B

meet (those few one-night stands in college aside). I love good sex as much as anyone, and holy shit it has been too long, but running off to sleep with a stranger is a stretch for me.
    Except with Jackson Bennett, I wanted to. Oh my god, I wanted to.
    And when he touched my arm… I don’t even know what that was, but it made me feel like I was melting.
    I hug myself against the chill night air. He was overwhelming, filling my senses. And son of a bitch, my panties are so wet I’ll need to change when I get home. Tonight might be a night for my little battery-powered buddy. I’m so agitated, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.
    A few cars pass, and my back clenches each time. Is it him? If I see him again, if he looks at me with those insane blue eyes, I know I’ll be powerless to refuse him. And that thought terrifies me.
    By the time I make it home, I’m pretty convinced I imagined the whole thing. There’s no way that man was in Danny’s Tavern. And if he was, there’s no way he talked to me. And furthermore, if did talk to me, it is positively impossible that he wanted me to come to his hotel with him.
    No way. It didn’t happen.
    I shuffle inside and toss my phone on the couch, heading straight for bed. A shower sounds good, but there’s the slightest whiff of his cologne lingering on me. It’s probably in my hair. It didn’t happen—Jackson Bennett did not exist—but I’m not quite ready to let go of the dream.
    ***
    I get up the next morning feeling more like myself. After a little DIY time last night, I went to sleep fairly relaxed. I try not to think about the fact that I dreamed of a mysterious man with piercing blue eyes all night. It’s over, and I didn’t take the chance. On to the rest of my life.
    My phone rings, and I pick it up, sitting down on the couch and putting my feet up. I really need to change my ringtone. This one is getting old. It’s Nicole.
    “Hey, Nic. What’s up?”
    “Hey, did you get my email?”
    “Um,” I say. I open my laptop, squinting so I don’t have to see the dick pic again, and quickly close out of the dating site. I click on my email. “Just saw it.”
    “Okay, no big deal,” she says. “I just sent you some ideas for bridesmaid dresses.”
    Right. Bridesmaid dresses. Lovely. I love that she asked me to be her maid of honor, but fancy dresses aren’t really my thing. And isn’t the wedding, like, next year? “Cool, I’ll take a look. But you know this isn’t my area, right? Just tell me what to wear and I’ll cope with it.”
    Nicole laughs. “Sure, but I want you to love it, too. Or, if you refuse to love it, I want you to be comfortable. Anyway, I think all the ones I sent would look amazing on you.”
    “Whatever you say.”
    “So, what did you do last night?” she asks.
    “I made a profile on a dating site,” I say.
    “Awesome,” she says. “Did you get any messages?”
    “Um, yes. Three. A socially awkward guy who wants to know if I’m fat, and a serial killer.”
    “Oh shut up, he wasn’t a real serial killer,” she says.
    “He looked like one. He had a face tattoo, Nic.”
    “Ew,” she says. “You said there were three. Who was the third?”
    I start laughing before I can even tell her. “He sent me a dick pic.”
    “A what?”
    “He sent me a picture of his junk.”
    “No.”
    “I swear,” I say.
    “Wow,” she says. “That’s horrifying. Now I feel bad for suggesting you do that.”
    “It really was horrifying, but it’s okay. It’s not your fault some guys shouldn’t be allowed to have contact with other humans. I ended up going out for a couple drinks at Danny’s.” I pause. Should I tell her? Why the fuck not. “A hot guy bought me a drink.”
    “Ooh,” Nicole says, her voice going all squee-ish. “Tell me more.”
    “Eh, there’s not much to tell. This guy came in and tried to order a stupid expensive scotch. So like a dumbass, I jumped in and told him not to order it.”
    “That sounds like