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low around her hips was a mystery. Although it hid the general design and cut of her bottoms, it slashed diagonally to the mid-thigh of her left leg, leaving the creamy expanse of her right leg prominently on display.
    As she approached the bar, Jackson assessed her over the top of his mirrored shades and let out a soft whistle. “You vacationing or entering the swimsuit competition in the Miss America pageant?”
    Sliding onto the stool next to where he stood, she began, “You see, Jackson—”
    “My friends call me Jax.”
    Vanessa pushed her tortoise shell sunglasses up on her head and regarded him with a twinkle in her green eyes. “Ah, like those annoying pointy little things for kids that always seem to be underfoot.” She nodded as though all the world’s mysteries suddenly made sense. “I so get that.”
    Damn, he liked her spunk. “I’ll just bet you do,” he said, giving her a huge smile he didn’t have to fake.
    “As I was saying, Jackson ,” she emphasized with a saccharin-sweet grin, “a girl should always look her best. She never knows when she might meet a handsome stranger at a beach bar who can rescue her from her lunch date.”
    “Drink date.”
    She waved her hand dismissively. “Semantics.”
    Gesturing for the bartender, she ordered herself a Blue Hawaiian, or as she called it, “That big blue thingy I keep seeing.” How adorably tourist.
    “Unfortunately, you can’t get rid of me. How would it look if Lucie left Reid to cavort around the island with another man the week of her wedding?” He didn’t bother mentioning he planned on leaving her after they shared their drinks and he came clean about his impulsive fibbing streak.
    “Sadly, you’re right. But next week, while Reid and Lucie are enjoying their honeymoon on a Mediterranean cruise, I’ll still be here and incredibly available.”
    Jax’s gut twisted at the images of a sexy Vanessa being fawned over by every man within a square mile. His brain told him it was none of his damn business how she spent her vacation, and logically speaking, he knew it was right. Unfortunately, he’d always been a man who followed his gut.
    Her Blue Hawaiian arrived, and she didn’t waste any time sampling it. Lifting the large bowled glass, she sipped the electric blue liquid, made a sound of approval that tightened his groin, then licked the sugar on her lips she’d lifted from the rim.
    Clearing his throat to disguise a groan, he ordered a second Heineken and then killed his first. By now, the idea of her spending time with random locals was on its way to giving him an ulcer. His other half—the side he fully acknowledged was more caveman than gentleman—was trying to claw his way free.
    Tamping down his irrational shit, he thanked the bartender for the new beer and kept things light. “You know, as your personal host, I feel I’d be shirking my responsibilities if I allowed a bunch of jerks to circle you like sharks around chum.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said with a look of disbelief, “did you just refer to me as fish guts?”
    “You are a lawyer.” Wink. Drink.
    She laughed in the same way his buddy Corey did when they got into a good-natured pissing match about who was the better fighter. “Okay, Maris, I’m giving you fair warning.” She gestured back and forth between them. “When this is over with, I have every intention of finding some hot Hawaiian hunk to entertain me for a few days. And should you interfere in any way, shape, or form, I’ll be forced to hurt you.”
    Chuckling, he removed his shades, set them on the bar, and leveled her with patronizing amusement. “ You hurt me ? That’s adorable; truly it is.” She opened her mouth to fire back, but he didn’t give her the chance. “I will say I’m glad you’ve decided to have fun with a local boy while you’re here, though.”
    Her mouth closed and a small furrow creased her brow. He loved it when strategy worked.
    Crossing his forearms on the bar, he