Who was he kidding? One taste wouldn’t cover it. Neither would two. Nope, nothing less than an entire night of tasting would be good enough.

Tipping back his head, he stared up at the star-littered sky, taking a moment to draw in the salty air, to listen to the waves.

But that moment didn’t give him the peace he needed. Not when she was still looking at him, her gaze wordlessly telling him that she wanted him, too. “You should head on over to the party.” He gestured with a hitch of his chin to the bonfires already going about a hundred yards down the beach, and the growing crowd.

In spite of what Zach thought of him, the new chief was extremely popular.

“Can we walk first?” Brooke gestured in the opposite direction. “Just us?”

Walking alone with her on a moonlit night along the beach? A fantastically bad idea.

“Please?”

No. Absolutely not.

She held out her hand. “Sure,” his mouth said without permission from his brain, and taking her hand, he led her down the path to the water. There they kicked off their flip-flops and walked with the surf gently hitting the shore on their right, the cliffs on their left and the moonlight touching their faces.

Pretty damn romantic, which didn’t help.

A wave splashed over their bare feet and legs, and the bottom of Brooke’s dress got wet, clinging like plastic wrap.

Perfect. Just what he needed. Brooke all wet.

Letting out a low laugh, she gathered the material in her hands, pulling it up above her knees as she backed farther up on the sand.

He thought she’d turn and head toward the party, but she didn’t. She kept going.

And like a puppy on a leash, he followed.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked.

He took in her profile, the small smile on her glossed lips, the few freckles across her upturned nose, her hair flying around her face. “Yes,” he agreed. “Beautiful.”

Her gaze flew to his. “I was talking about the scenery.”

“I know.”

“But you weren’t looking at it.”

“No.”

“I…” She let out what sounded like a helpless sigh. “You were saying that I’m beautiful?”

“Yes.”

“See, that’s the thing.”

“There’s a thing?”

“Well, you make me feel a thing.” She looked away. “A few things, actually.”

Uh-huh. And that made two of them.

The breeze continued to toy with the wet hem of her dress and his mind at the same time. He took in the empty beach, the myriad alcoves and cliffs lining the shore, forming lots of private little spots where they could escape to without being seen.

Where he could slowly glide that dress up her legs and—

“Ouch.” She hopped on one foot, then bent to pick something up. “A shell.”