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1
Twelve Years Earlier
ONE OF THE things that Caroline Banks liked best about Jason Cooper was that he was so different from any other guy she knew. He wasn’t at all like the boys she went to high school with, or even like the Stanford University law students who frequently came over to the house to help her father handle his caseload, in the hopes of obtaining a judicial clerkship. Despite their ambitions and their wealthy families, they were all just boys.
Jason was unique.
Her dad, a superior court judge, apparently thought so, too. After Jason had made numerous appearances in his courtroom for various juvenile offenses, Judge William Banks had made an offer to the then sixteen-year-old: stay in school and get good grades, and he would help Jason attend college. The alternative was juvenile detention and—once he turned eighteen—the very real possibility of hard jail time. If he messed up even once, the offer would be withdrawn.
That had been five years ago, when Caroline had been just eleven years old. She still remembered the defiant, angry boy that Jason had been back then. At sixteen, he’d been taller than most boys his age, but he’d looked half-starved, and he’d sported visible scars on his face and body. But when she’d asked her father for details, he’d simply pinched her cheek and told her there were some things a little girl didn’t need to know.
Now Caroline lay in the darkness of the guest bedroom and listened as the footsteps outside the room drew closer. She glanced at the bedside clock. Nearly one in the morning. She’d been battling her nerves for more than two hours, waiting for Jason to come upstairs and wondering if she’d have the nerve to remain in his room until he did. She’d had a crush on the reformed bad boy for as long as she could remember, and although he might act as if he didn’t know she existed, Caroline knew better.
He’d just graduated from UCLA School of Law, and her father couldn’t have been prouder than if Jason had been his own son. William had invited his protégé to stay with them at their beach house in Santa Cruz, in order to celebrate his success and discuss his future plans. Caroline hoped Jason would be blown away by how adult she looked; after all, she was now almost seventeen. That afternoon, she’d deliberately joined her father and Jason for lunch on the patio, wearing nothing but a string bikini. Her father had caught sight of her over his newspaper and scowled.
“What?” she’d demanded, widening her eyes. “I’m going to the beach right after I eat.”
“Well, cover up until then.” He’d glanced at Jason, whose eyes were resolutely focused on his plate, and snapped his newspaper in irritation. “Unlawful contact with a minor is still a punishable offense, even if it is provoked.”
With a huff of annoyance, she’d returned to her room for a cover-up. When she’d come back to the table, Jason was gone.
“He’s too old for you,” her father had commented from behind his paper.
“Daddy,” she’d grumbled in protest. “I’m not doing anything.”
Her father had lowered his newspaper and removed his glasses. His blue eyes had been shrewd as he considered her. “It’s times like this that I wish your mother was still alive,” he’d finally said. “But she’s not, so I’m going to say it like I see it. Jason Cooper is a fine young man, and I don’t blame you for being attracted to him. But please stop tormenting him, and go practice your wiles on a boy your own age.”
“Daddy.”
He’d risen to his feet and stopped by her chair long enough to drop a kiss on top of her head and tweak a strand of her blond hair. “You’re old enough to know exactly what you’re doing to him and young enough to be forgiven for it. But he’s just a man. Test him any further, and you may find the consequences more than you can handle. For his own sake, it’s probably a good thing he’s leaving tomorrow.”
Now Caroline drew in a shaky breath and listened to Jason’s approach. She knew she was doing the right thing. Her father had all but said Jason found her attractive. But he was leaving in the morning. She wasn’t about to let him go without telling him how she felt.
The windows of the beach house were open, and the gauzy curtains billowed softly with the warm breeze that blew in from the Pacific, carrying with it the salt-tinged fragrance of the sea. In the distance, she could just hear the rhythmic pounding of the surf. Caroline curled her fingers around the sheet and waited. The pillowcase beneath her cheek smelled faintly of Jason—dark and woodsy. She breathed deeply, and the familiar scent lent her some courage.
