Page 34 of Whispers on the Water

“Uh, no problem, Sam. Happy for you,” Scott says. I give her a final squeeze around her waist before letting go. She hops down off the counter and smooths her tank top. But me? I’m watching her go, practically itching to touch her again already. A cold spreads through me in the absence of her body.

But I can’t touch her again. Not yet. There’s something I have to do. “Are you okay if I go for a bit?” I ask.

Her smile is as reassuring as seeing the sunshine poke through the dark clouds of an oncoming hurricane. And that’s what this is. Knowing I love Sam, it’s the calm before the storm. “Scott’s here, and Tilly will be back soon,” she says.

I walk behind him, placing a chaste kiss on top of her copper hair. “I’m gonna run some errands. See you tonight?”

“Sure. I’ll bring food.” She shoots a wink my way before grabbing her rag and wiping down the already clean bar.

Rushing out, my mind races. I know I should report Sam, but everything in me screams to protect her. Her past, marked by abuse and suffering, is evident. She’s been broken down, but she’s fought back.

I can’t turn her in. Not now, not ever. Sam has become my world, and I refuse to let her suffer any more injustice.

As I walk back to my apartment, the world around me fades into a blur. Seagulls cry out overhead, and cars honk as I absentmindedly jog across the street, both their warnings ignored. Once inside, the quiet of my apartment envelops me as I power up my laptop and begin to draft an email.

I don’t even pause to review what I’ve written; my fingers seem to move with a will of their own. With a final click, the email is sent off to my boss and the head of the FBI.

“City of Jaco cleared. Lead was a false alarm. Beginning search of northern Costa Rica tomorrow.” That’s all it says. It’s a stalling tactic, one that might buy me some time, maybe even a few months. My assignment is supposed to last a year, and I’m determined to spend every last second of it with her.

Chapter twenty-two

Sam

I’m holding a paper bag full of chorizo and a bottle of wine as I approach Greg’s door, smoothing my hair down nervously before I knock. The door swings open almost immediately, revealing Greg looking relaxed and happy, causing a knot to form in my stomach.

After everything with Penny today, spending time with Greg is exactly what I need. He has this knack for supporting me without ever pushing too hard as if he instinctively knows what I need. A quiet night in with him, watching a movie, and enjoying one of my favorite dishes sounds perfect. Plus, he’s been on my case to watch Point Break forever; it’s probably time to cave.

“Hey, come on in,” he greets, stepping aside. I brush past him, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek before heading to his kitchen to unload the food. Greg takes a seat on the couch, watching me as I fuss with the Styrofoam boxes. Catching his affectionate gaze, I blush a bit. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been over a few times, but mostly just to meet up before heading out. It’s the first time I’ve spent more than a few minutes here since we had sex on the couch.

Clearing my throat, I ask, “Where are your plates?” He directs me to a cabinet above the sink. I busy myself with the food, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. “Wine?” I offer, wanting to fill the slight awkwardness with some alcohol. Typically, I don’t like to drink much, but I need something to calm my nerves.

“Yes, please,” he responds, amusement lacing his voice. I manage to balance two plates and two wine glasses, bringing them over to the coffee table. Greg looks more than a little anxious as I carefully navigate the living room.

“Relax my dear, I’m a pro,” I say with a wink, sitting down next to him, our thighs touching. The closeness, the smell of the food and wine, it’s intoxicating. Especially adding in Greg’s natural smell. A mix of ocean salt and his own musk, reminiscent of California mountains and the sea. I want to lean over and lick him from head to toe. Taste what has me so flustered. I can feel his eyes on me, and it only makes the heat growing in my belly spread.

Before I can ask why he’s staring at me so intently, he breaks the silence. “You’re positively amazing, Sam.”

I chuckle, feeling a bit embarrassed. “It’s just dinner, Greg. Calm down.”

But he’s serious. “If you think I’m referring to just this moment, you’re fucking nuts.”

I take a bite of my food, curious. “Meaning?”

“The surfing, the balance of the books for Ron, the way you are with Tilly, Tommy, and even your sister. And the pinball machine…” He stops for a minute and chuckles. “How the fuck did you know how to fix a pinball machine?”

I’m touched by how much he’s noticed and a little shell-shocked by the intensity of his words. “I actually went to college to be an electrical engineer,” I confess quietly, a bit surprised at myself for sharing.

“Really?” His amazement is evident, making more heat creep up my cheeks.

Nodding, I sip my wine. “Yep. Only did three semesters but I guess some stuff stuck. I wasn’t much of a surf bum until moving here. Sure, I dabbled in Monterey, but didn’t really fall in love with it until meeting Tilly.”

Settling back, I can feel Greg’s full attention on me. It’s tempting to open up completely, to share every part of my story with him. But for now, I decide to stick to the safer parts of my early life in Costa Rica.

“When I first got here, I decided to take some classes at UCR. Back home, my ex never wanted me to go to college. So, once I was on my own, I thought, ‘Why not?’ But my Spanish was terrible at the time, and somehow, everything just felt...vapid.”

Greg sets his wine glass down, turning to me with eyes that seem to plead for more like he’s desperate to understand. “Vapid how?”

I glance up, blinking back tears that threaten to spill over. The memories are too close to the surface. But most often, when the images start flashing through my mind, I can’t stop them. I’ve been learning that letting the entire thing play out is best instead of pushing it away. With a sigh, I wrap my own arms around myself, trying to fight off the chill that’s crept over me. “After everything with my ex, seeing people worry about parties or grades just seemed so trivial. I couldn’t relate. I eventually stopped going to classes.”

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