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Fern.
    This was the closest she’d been to Rick since before he’d enlisted. She swallowed. The cab of the truck suddenly felt much smaller as Jess stole glances at Rick’s strong profile out of the corner of her eye. His jawline was firmer now, more masculine, and he’d grown into his features.
    Jess’s gaze lingered on his lips. That feature, however, had remained the same. It had been graduation night. She’d been eighteen and had gone to a party at Fiddler’s Beach, just down the bay from where her cousin Tom’s cottage now sat. Rick had been there, two and a half years older, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt and looking dangerous. She’d met his gaze over the flickering light of the fire and something in her had stirred. That same stirring was happening now, only she was looking at the man he’d become. He was harder, tougher, and if possible, more handsome now than he’d been back then.
    “Oh, let’s just call it part of your charm,” she replied. He’d deftly changed the subject, and she got the message that he was both done talking about himself and determined to lighten the mood.
    “Of course, you never make rash decisions, do you, Jess?” He raised an eyebrow.
    Her cheeks heated as she blushed. Thank God he couldn’t tell what she’d just been thinking. “Me? Well, I try not to.”
    “That’s right. I can see that Treasures was a well-thought-out, smart business decision guaranteed to succeed. You’re very, very careful, aren’t you? My goodness, you’re just about perfect.” A dimple threatened to pop in his cheek.
    “Hey,” she corrected him. “Starting up any business is a gamble, Rick. Besides, I never said I was perfect.” She was far from it.
    “Oh, come on.” He chuckled as he began a laundry list of her attributes. “You can’t do any wrong in the Cove. Successful businesswoman, church committee member, volunteer for everything, can make crafts out of bottle caps and wire. Friend to all, a real go-to girl. You really should be in line for sainthood.”
    She looked over and saw his lips twitch. Damn him for being so deliberately provoking and sexy as hell at the same time. “Hey, everyone has a skill,” she returned. He grinned at her and her breath caught. They weren’t … flirting, were they? How sad was it that she was so out of practice she couldn’t tell?
    “I’m not so sure about that,” he said. “I sometimes think my only skill is screwing up.”
    “I’m pretty sure you didn’t mean to get … um … wounded,” she answered.
    “Doesn’t mean I didn’t screw up just because it was unintentional.”
    Lordy, how right he was. Jess had made her share of mistakes. And they’d been doozies. No wonder she was extra cautious now. Her slew of errors had begun when she’d fallen for the wrong man, who’d turned her life into a place of addiction and violence, while showing a sweet-as-apple-pie face to the world. It hadn’t ended until a few years later … when she’d walked into the shelter looking for help.
    “Take the next right,” she said quietly, pointing at a road sign.
    “Did I say something wrong?” he asked, sparing her a glance. “You got real quiet all of a sudden.”
    “Not at all,” she lied. But Rick could take a hint, too. They’d both halted conversation when the subject hit a little too close for comfort.
    For the next few minutes she gave him directions to the shelter. The radio played softly in the background. There was so much about him she didn’t approve of, so it made very little sense that looking at him, being this close to him, was still enough to make her pulse speed up a little bit. Their chat today shouldn’t have changed anything—and yet somehow it did.
    They were turning into the parking lot next to the shelter when Jess finally asked the question she’d wanted to ask for close to ten years. “Rick, why did you leave and join the Marines? What was so bad that you had to get out of Jewell Cove, leave your mom