Page 18 of Echoes at Driftwood Cottage

Pleasure hummed along to a sweet song as she dug her nails into his back. By the time he reversed their positions, and she was up against the tile, he picked her up, slamming his way inside. He set the rhythm. Her hips matched the pace. Bodies jerked and quivered, as they shuddered to the slippery, slick finish.

To catch his breath, he rested his chin on the top of her head. “Okay to turn off the water now?”

Panting like she’d dashed up several flights of stairs, she managed to mutter, “I think that’s a good idea.”

Just as she got the words out, the water went icy cold. “I’m surprised it lasted this long.”

Daniel reached behind her and turned the handle. Shivering now, they broke apart long enough for him to grab a towel from the rack, which he handed to her. “You first.”

She threw the towel around her shoulders and opened the linen closet to get him another. “There’s more than one.”

“I hope you like cold eggs,” he said, using the towel to pat his face dry.

She took his chin. “I’ll take sex over hot eggs any day of the week.”

“Good to know,” he muttered before planting a sultry kiss on her mouth that made her head spin.

She dried her hair, bunched it up in a ponytail and grabbed a scrunchie, twisting it into a knot. She angled toward the bedroom to get dressed, then stopped. “If I haven’t said this before, you’ve got some moves on you, Daniel Cardiff.”

“I’m not bad in the horizontal position, either.”

“Now you’re just bragging.”

Over cold eggs and toast, they did a rehash of last night’s events. As she crunched on a piece of crispy bacon, she laid out another theory. “If not a twin, maybe the girl in Eternal Gardens is a sibling.”

Daniel shook his head. “You said it yourself. That would mean your grandmother never mentioned it before she died. Think about it, she went to her grave without saying a thing about another child.”

“I just don’t think Gran would do that. I’m beginning to agree with you. To find out the truth, it may take exhuming the grave. And that would mean getting the police involved.”

He took a gulp of cold coffee. “Don’t be mad. But after I woke up early—camping out on the floor wasn’t all that it’s cracked up to be—I contacted Brogan and Lucien. They sent an email back before we had shower sex. I went to find you to tell you about it but got slightly distracted.”

“Slightly?”

He grinned. “Bad choice of words. Anyway, their advice is to go directly to Brent Cody and level with him. Tell him about the grave. It is your name and birth date on it. That’s reason enough for an exhumation.”

“Don’t forget the eerie date of my death.”

“That should be enough for Cody to get a judge’s order.”

“But what if it’s not? I’m not doing anything until I get to the bank and check Gran’s safe deposit box tomorrow. Comparing birth certificates might get us somewhere.”

“Whatever you decide, unfortunately, you’re on your own until afternoon. Sundays I work the mixers, turning out all those delightful concoctions I sell to the masses.”

“Really? That sounds like fun. Want me to help?”

“I’d love the company, but if you need to stay here and unpack, then do that. I should finish by noon. After that, we could spend time on my boat.”

Rowan flinched. “Um, I’m not really a water person.”

“But the beach is six blocks from here with a gorgeous shoreline. Not to mention a fully functional harbor. We’re practically a fishing village, definitely a seaport.”

She shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t mind hanging out at the beach—I lived here for eight years before I moved to San Diego—I just don’t like boats.”

“We’ll have to fix that. What if I give you a ride around the bay going no more than five miles an hour? If it’s a seasick issue—”

Rowan bristled. “It’s not a seasick issue. You aren’t listening. I’m not getting on your boat. I don’t go on cruises. I don’t ride ferries. I don’t get in canoes or kayaks. Not even paddle boats. I don’t get in hot tubs. I don’t set foot on boats. Not ever. I stay on land like a normal person.”

“This could be a dealbreaker,” Daniel cracked. “I love my Sundancer, thirty-two feet of sheer joy. She’s called Avalon. I lived on that boat when I first got here before I bought my house. My uncle left her to me in his will. The same uncle that bought me my first truck back in high school.”

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