Free Ocean of Love by Susan D. Taylor

bag here and just go sans folders.”
    Only his agreement to keeping their exchange
as strictly business forced him to get out of the car.
    “ What about a camera?
Photographs are extremely helpful in remembering details. Just a
small camera; I’m not planning on a jungle safari.”
    He couldn’t help crooking a finger under her
lovely chin. “Fine. One camera and you.”
    It was the biting of her lip that convinced
him, get out of the car. Now.
    Walking alongside her, he half-listened to
her feed him information about technical details of the land before
them. The possibility of touching her lingered in his thoughts,
making the property’s selling points fade. He reached for her arm
whenever he found the excuse, nodding to her talk, and hungry for
more contact. Skin on skin. At the rear of the building, they
stopped, and he reached out to guide her into a position where they
stood facing each other. “I’ve been rambling on, and you’ve been so
quiet. Tell me some of your thoughts.”
    “ The beach isn’t combed and
beautified like the other beach site,” he remarked. “The rock
formations just beyond the shore add a layer to the view. I think I
prefer the beauty of this version.”
    “ Yes. I agree. And there’s
a city requirement for upkeep. Important considering what washes up
onshore.” She shivered, and rubbed her hands up and down her
arms.
    “ Would you rather return to
the car?” He moved her in closer to his body to shield her from the
wind. “Stand here.”
    “ No, it’s nothing. Where
was I?”
    “ City upkeep.” He stared at
her mouth, chiseling out another section of his
willpower.
    “ Last year funding was
allocated from the Federal Disaster Funds maintained by FEMA for
beach restoration. This area was hard-hit and instead of spending
the money, the city waited to see what would happen during the last
hurricane season. Well, they have to use the money within
twenty-four months or return the disaster funds to the federal
government. They voted on the usage, and part of their plans
include increasing the shoreline to protect against further
erosion. This property before us is included. I have the
report.”
    “ How many additional feet
will be considered structurally sound?”
    “ One hundred fifty-eight
feet. Not as much as other sites but enough for the building you
want. Structurally, you’ll be well within zoning requirements.
Especially considering the property size you’ll start with upon
purchase. And there’s the additional fore-shore being dredged. The
total frontage you’ll end up with will be outstanding. I already
ran the preliminaries by a structural engineer friend.”
    Wyatt narrowed his
eyes. Friend-engineer. That combination spelled trouble. “Which firm? Maybe I’ve
heard of them.”
    “ Hines and Bartlett. James
Bartlett, but he goes by Jimmy. He’s a character, but has projects
all over the nation specializing in ocean-front condominiums in
hurricane-prone areas. I didn’t contract their services yet, if
that’s concerning you?”
    He stared back her, disliking the lilting
tone as she described this Bartlett dude. “Bartlett. Where’d he go
to school?”
    “ I think up north. But not
recently. He’s kept up with the times, I assure you. Not some
fuddy-duddy just because he’s twenty years your senior. You’re free
to use the structural firms from your projects in Texas and
Alabama. They were experienced with storm water. I’m certain the
issues are relatively similar.”
    “ I’m merely curious,
darling. So you and James Barnett are just friends?”
    “ Yes, just friends.” Her
brows knitted together.
    “ Don’t stare me down like
I’ve done something wrong. I’ve no problem securing any and all
services you deem necessary. I trust you implicitly. But I like to
know whom I work with, that’s all.” He sliced the air with his
hand. Why in the devil was he suddenly jealous of another man? He
turned away, silently glaring at the shore.
    She