Page 44 of Sighs By the Sea

Before long, I feel arms encircle my waist and glance over my shoulder.

“Hi,” Maggie says.

“Maggie,” I reply, trying to convey my need for space in that one word. Every bone in my body is begging me to lean into her touch, to kiss her, to smile. But my brain is fighting back, telling me to push her away. I’m frozen with indecision, but at least she’s touching me.

“Grayson,” she mimics my dark tone, making me chuckle despite myself. She plants a wet kiss on my neck. “Roger says our ride is about here. You ready?”

“If Roger says,” I reply, my tone sharper than I intended.

She squeezes me tighter. “Jealous, Mr. Cardenas?”

“Of that douche? No,” I say, but there’s still bitterness in my voice.

“He invited me for drinks later, said I could wear his captain’s hat.” A growl slips out of me—not my finest moment. “Stop. It was sweet.”

“He’s not even the captain, Maggie. That’s Rex.”

Her arms slip off me, and she tugs on my shoulder until I’m facing her. “Is that your issue with what he said?”

No. The real issue is that I don’t want any man asking her out. For drinks, for dinner, for anything. But I can’t say that, so I stay silent.

She sighs and brushes the hair whipping around her face out of the way. “Well, I told him we were together, so don’t worry,” she says. I decide not to argue. I certainly don’t want her going out with Roger or anyone else, for that matter. But especially not Roger. The guy brags about his conquests like it’s some great achievement.

The boat’s engines slow, and Roger’s voice booms through the speakers overhead. With all the charm of a cocky ass, he talks about when the Navy purchased the island, made it off-limits to everyone except Sealife, and tells people to look at the dolphins off the port side. He’s good at his job, I’ll give him that. Everyone laughs at his ridiculous jokes and looks where he directs them. This is a good tour and an excellent investment that Tilly has made. I make a mental note to compliment her the next time I see her—it might soften the lecture I’ll get once Miranda spreads gossip about our little parking lot tryst.

As Roger continues with his spiel, one of the ship’s hands approaches us.

“The skiff’s here,” he says, his tone clipped as the wind whips around us.

I nod, and we follow him. When we reach the side of the boat, I peer over the edge. A small military-style zodiac skiff is bobbing next to our fifty-foot tour yacht. Two Navy men in camo uniforms and guns are holding onto the ladder, keeping it steady.

Maggie is practically bouncing with excitement, but I have to swallow some of my unease.

She heads over the side first, her hair whipping around her face as she descends the metal ladder. When she hops down, I follow. The ladder is slick with seawater, but there’s grip tape on it, and I manage. This is not how I imagined spending time with Maggie—or anyone else, for that matter. I’m not a thrill-seeker or adventurer. I’m a fucking accountant. My idea of excitement is solving a complex problem.

Still, I need to do this, so I jump onto the boat. One of the camo-clad men is helping Maggie to her seat, smiling a bit too much at her. Trying to claim a spot by her side, I teeter in that direction. But as shouts sound behind me, the men are already shoving off, and I fly forward, landing face-first in the camo man’s lap.

Is that his…? I dare a glance up. The military man is scowling. He shoves me off with a gruff, “Get your sea legs, Cardenas!” I feel a hand clamp around the back of my neck and yank me up. Another Navy man keeps a firm grip and shoves me into a seat.

The engine roars louder, battling the wind. My fingers clench the wooden seat as I bounce with each jolt against the swells. I glance over my shoulder to see if Maggie is struggling like I am, but her face is pure ecstasy, lit up like she’s watching fireworks. Sunlight sparkles in the mist created by the boat, and a literal rainbow surrounds her. Is she even real?

One of the Navy men sidles up to me, distracting me from my view. “Mr. Cardenas? We don’t have a dock, so we’re going to beach land. Hang on,” he says. I nod and tighten my grip on the seat. Seeing the beach zooming toward us, I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t care if it’s unmanly or makes me look like a coward—this is survival as far as I’m concerned.

We hit the sand with a jolt, and I fly forward, barely managing to keep my grip and land on my knees. The Navy men jump out and start pulling the boat further up the beach until it’s completely out of the water.

“Welcome to San Clemente Island,” the Navy man says, smiling under a thick brown mustache. He offers a hand to Maggie.

She smiles back and takes his hand, stepping around me to get out. When she’s on the sand, she looks back at me, her smile widening. “Coming, Mr. Cardenas?” I’d follow her to the ends of the earth with a smile like that. Thank God she doesn’t care that I’m completely out of my element right now. Lesser men have been sunk by smaller offenses.

“I have strict orders to take you straight to the barracks. Courtney is being held in his room there,” the Navy man says. He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns and starts jogging up the beach.

Maggie grins at me. “Excited?” she asks.

“Not even a little. I don’t think I’m enjoying this as much as you.”

“I didn’t become a detective to sit around. Come on, Mr. Cardenas, or they might shoot us.”

We both hurry to catch up with our escort. “This place is pretty locked down. How would a wanted gang member get here?” Maggie asks.

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