Page 76 of Sighs By the Sea

He makes a feral noise that has heat pooling in my clit. My sexual appetite is insatiable around this man. I try to get up, but he bites onto my shoulder. Hard. I yelp and smack his chest, the sound echoing in the quiet room. When I lean back, he’s smiling before he puts both hands behind his head. “You better go. I don’t want you on the road too late.”

My fingers tap a final time on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my touch. I’m going to miss snuggling on this wall of muscle. Climbing off, I smooth my hair. I want to say something. Something insane. Ridiculous. Scary. Far too soon. “I’ll miss you,” I say instead. The words almost feel hollow compared to the other phrase I couldn’t manage.

He stands, not caring about the fact that his bits are still exposed, his confidence making me smile. Our lips meet on my silent gasp. His kiss is demanding, passionate, and melts me. When he pulls back, the intensity in his eyes is nearly blinding. “I’ll miss you too.” For a split second, I think he’s holding back the same words.

But he turns and flops back onto his bed. “Go before I lock you in,” he says, not meeting my eyes.

If only I could let him. Without another word, I slip out of his apartment, the door clicking shut behind me. Every nerve in my body is begging me to go back in. But I don’t. I have a job to do. One that means getting Gray his son back. The sooner I can get it done, the better off he will be. And right now, that’s all I care about.

***

My week passes in a blur of phone calls, messages, and work. I know I’m running myself ragged. Sleep is nearly impossible without Gray. It’s insane that I’ve grown so used to having him by my side. But he’s addicting. There’s a way about him, a smooth energy that radiates from his person that I need. Cooking at his place last Sunday was one of the best days of my life.

He taught me to make spaghetti. Like actually turn tomatoes into a sauce. I’m being dramatic, but it was magic. I want it again. I want him to teach me all the meals. To flirt with him in the kitchen. To wash him in the shower after he’s given me orgasm after orgasm.

Before that can happen, I have to get the case closed. I need to find Don. I need to arrest him and keep him away from Gray. But I promised I would be here today. When Grayson mentioned the volunteer event at the beach, I jumped at the chance. I love doing events like these. Partly because I was an at-risk kid.

Which is why I harangued both Harry and my sister to come along. Harry texted, saying he would be a little late, and Vanessa is always late. She hasn’t even texted yet, meaning she’s probably not awake.

Figures. I know she’ll show up. Eventually. She’s young. Only 22. So I’ll give her a pass. At least until she’s 25. Then she better learn some damn time management skills, or I might disown her. In order to be on time, I had to leave my house at six a.m. On a fucking Saturday. That was after meeting a CI that swore he saw Don at an Irish Bar in Pasadena. I spent the night sipping on a single warm beer, waiting for him to show again. I was hit on about fourteen times, and Don never did show up. Last time I listen to anything Pepe says.

The sun is already burning away the marine layer as I finally arrive at La Jolla Beach. Parking is a nightmare, of course, and I end up three blocks from the beach. As I walk down the hill toward the sand, surfers, scuba divers, and people walking their dogs pass me going both ways. Every one of them has a smile, a look of ease.

To them, it’s just another day at the beach. For me, it’s meeting my boyfriend’s family for the first time. Without him here. Not only that, but at least one of them already hates me. Seeing Tilly today will be hard. We haven’t spoken since talking with her grandpa at the prison. As I step onto the grass, I see the easy-up with their logo on it. “Wishes for Waves.” Good name choice. There’s already a group of about two dozen standing beneath it. I head that way, pep-talking myself as I go.

The air is humming with the excitement of the volunteer event. I can see people bustling around, setting up tents and organizing equipment. The salty sea breeze ruffles my hair, and the sound of waves crashing fills the air. My heart skips a beat when I see Shark Bait. He’s already shirtless and looking fine. His skin is golden and dripping. He must have already gone into the water. Brave man. I can’t imagine getting in without a wetsuit. The temperature is probably in the low sixties.

As I approach, I spot Tilly. When I give her a wave, she responds with a glare. Glad to see that hasn’t changed. At least she’s consistent. I let it roll off my back. Before I can dwell on it, Miranda appears at my side, all smiles and warmth. “Hey, bombshell. Love the wrap,” she says, slipping her arm in mine.

“Uh, yeah.” I give my dress a glance. It’s flowery and not my usual style, but it’s the beach. Dressing for it was a must. My bikini is underneath, but I don’t want to show it off unless I absolutely have to.

“We’re gonna be making lunch, but we don’t have to start for a while,” Miranda says, leading me toward a set of foldable tables and chairs. She lets go of my arm to sit, then gestures to the seat next to hers. I sit, and she immediately produces a flask.

“Jesus, Miranda,” I say with a small giggle. She shrugs. “I’m not a kid person. This is how I’ll deal.” She takes a healthy swallow and tries to hand it to me. I give a little shake of my head, and she tucks it back into her purse hanging on the back of her chair. "So, anyone try to kill you this week?" she asks, her eyes following a cawing seagull as it soars past.

"Nope. Just a boring stretch of paperwork and sniveling informants."

"Sounds riveting," Miranda deadpans, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yep." We fall into a comfortable silence until Miranda suddenly springs up from her chair, her movements sharp and full of energy.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she barks at a passing man. He’s wearing aviator sunglasses, his long blonde hair pulled into a man bun with the sides shaved. He takes off his sunglasses and scans Miranda up and down, a smirk playing on his lips. "Andy, drunk already?"

"Fu—"

He holds up a hand as he tucks the glasses into his pocket. "Now, now. There are children present."

"They promised you wouldn’t be here!" she yells, her voice rising above the murmur of the crowd. This is far more explosive than I could have ever imagined. I'm almost sorry I didn't bring my taser.

"And yet, I’m not an illusion." With a flourish, he starts to walk away but not before he slaps her right on the ass. Miranda lunges, and I leap out of my seat.

"Woah, there," I say, trying to calm her like a bucking bronco as I grab her around the waist. Still, her legs kick out. "Don’t make me arrest you," I laugh, but she takes a deep breath, her chest heaving.

"Are we arresting people already?" Harry’s voice comes from behind me, and I let go of Miranda. She smooths her sundress, her face still bright red. But at least she's not running to attack Roger across our little camp.

"Harry!" I hug him like a kid who just saw Santa Claus. I can’t help it. Being around all these people I don’t really know is far easier with a partner, and Harry is always my partner.

When I pull back, I get a good look at him. He’s already in board shorts, looking every bit the California surf bum. The sun glistens off his tanned skin, and his hair is tousled by the ocean breeze. "Damn, Harry, are you on the prowl or what?" He laughs, his tight abs flexing. It’s a little disorienting—I had no idea he was hiding a six-pack under all those wrinkly suits.

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