Page 16 of Sighs By the Sea

“Why did you ask me to stay?” she asks, her voice as sultry as mine.

“Because you’re refreshing, like sunshine after weeks of raining.” The words leave my mouth of their own accord. But I can't find it in me to regret them. It's the truth. No matter how corny it sounded or how silly I might feel tomorrow, I needed to say it.

The way she blushes will be burned into my brain for the rest of my life.

“Germaphobe, control freak, grump, great dad, and poet?” she asks, her crooked smile lighting a small fire in my chest.

“Are you profiling me, Detective?”

“A good cop is always on her toes,” she says. As if to emphasize her point, she rocks up on her tiptoes.

I could close the distance. It would be so easy. My eyes dart down to her lips, so full and red. Kissable. Lickable. Bitable. She wets them as if preparing for my move.

But there’s a noise at my door, and voices explode into my home. I step away from Maggie as soon as my eyes take in Tilly and her family.

And my cousin does not look happy. That's not good. She owns me. Heart, soul, and my house. I owe her everything since getting out of prison. If having Maggie around is putting the look of horror on my cousin's—who is also my boss— face, this thing with Maggie is not to be further explored.

Maggie

Idry my hands on my pants and walk around the counter. When I see who has walked in, I let out a small gasp. “Shark bait,” I say under my breath. There's a famous video of him after a shark attack that I've seen. The man is the most famous surfer in the world, and not just from his viral video. He's won countless tournaments in recent years, all while his wife waits on the beach. Their infatuation with each other is well known, even for a non-surfer like me.

Grayson scoffs. “Lord, not you too.”

“What?”

“You’re drooling over Tommy.” I nearly check my chin for dribble as I shake my head. But Grayson grabs my hand and starts pulling me forward.

“Gray, no. I’m fine, really.” My face has never been redder. Never mind the fact that Grayson is touching me. Really touching me. This isn't a handshake or a hug because my great uncle died. This is honest to god, his hand in my hand, touching. It makes my thighs ache. When we were in the kitchen, I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted much, much more than kissing. I wanted Grayson in compromising positions that should probably be studied—if properly executed—for contortionist exhibitions.

Try thinking that five times fast. And how does he have such rough hands? He's an accountant. His palms should not have me thinking of him on a motorcycle throwing Molotov cocktails at a rival surf shop.

God, I've got issues. Why does that image make me pulse with need? I don't get time to ponder because we're suddenly standing in front of the surf god when Grayson finally lets go of me.

“Tilly, Tommy, this is Detective Parker. I believe you’ve all met before,” he says.

"We have," Tilly deadpans and doesn't offer her hand for me to shake.

But Tommy is much more effusive. "Yes! Detective Parker. You clotheslined Til's cousin!" A blush colors my cheeks. He remembers me? And yes, I did take out his cousin. The guy dropped like a sack of flour. But when I saw him chasing an obviously scared pregnant lady, Tilly, instincts took over. There wasn't time to call for backup, even if Harry was a block away picking up some coffee. The assignment was on a whim anyway. Following Keaton was supposed to lead us to a local drug dealer. Boy, did it ever. I'm still touted as a hero for bringing down the Cardenas family. But I didn't do much other than take Grayson's confession in a hospital. Well, and save Tilly's life, though you wouldn't know that by how she's currently glaring at me.

"Uh, yes," I say, barely remembering the question.

Tommy laughs, and I swear I see his muscles laugh with him. His thighs could probably crush cement. "You have got to show me how to do that. I'd love to take Greg down a peg or two."

Tilly is groaning. "No. Your wrestling with Greg is becoming an issue. Remember your ankle?"

He winces and nods at Tilly. "You're right. You're always right, Til." A grin peaks out, but it's quickly smothered. Before she gets a chance to ask what I'm doing here, like she obviously wants to, her eyes widen at something behind me.

The twins are grabbing for the LEGOs, and Tilly swoops down. “Oh no you don’t, little choking wizards.”

I hurry down and start gathering up the loose pieces and putting them in the box. “Oh, sorry. We were just gonna finish this bag. I’ll, erm… clean it up.”

I dog-ear the page in the instruction book and tuck it inside the box as well. The pieces that had been connected already are carefully picked up and placed out of reach of the twins on the TV stand. Hopefully, Grayson can figure out where I left off on the expansive set.

The woman, Tilly, is staring at me as I do all this, making me feel more than a little self-conscious. Tilly is obviously some sort of badass. She has long, beautiful, silky black hair and a sleeve of colorful tattoos along one arm. Not only that, but I know she's part of the Cardenas family. She wasn't indicted or connected at all as far as I know, but you don't grow up working for the mob without learning a few tricks.

That makes me hesitate to test her. When I’m done, I brush my hands, though I don’t have a good reason other than nerves, and smile at the group.

“I was just heading out,” I say.

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