Page 20 of Inseverable (Carolina Beach)

“You’re not kidding. When I looked up to check on you, he was clear across the other end of the bar. I don’t think I had the chance to blink and he was suddenly there, ready to pound that shithead to dust for getting too close to you.”

Becks was right. Callahan had been watching out for me, something I hadn’t been expecting. And that rage he met that guy with? That there was a wolf set to pounce on his prey.

“Did you know he fought his way through the crowd to find you?” she says, pulling me out of the memory of him leaping over the bar.

“What?No.”

She laughs. “Hale was trying to rip me off that slutty girl?you know the one wearing those awful orange shorts?—and when he finally did I saw Ninja Turtle go all Transformer looking for you.”

As her best friend, I semi-interpret this to mean Callahan got mad and raced to find me. “And you didn’t tell me thiswhy?” I press.

She waits. “I sort of forgot seeing how Hale was giving me the eye. I think my catfight with that tramp got him all hot or something?”

“Becks!”

“Hey. I’m sorry. Hale was . . . well, you know how cute he is—anyway that’s why I’m telling you now!”

I scrunch my eyes closed. “So you think I may have a shot?”

“You may not have lassoed him, but you sure did snag his attention.” She sighs. “Just be careful. If I didn’t think he was dangerous before, that all changed when he grabbed that monster of a man by the throat like he was nothing. Trin, he knows how to fight. . .” Her voice trails. “And judging by how he handled that asshole, he knows how to do a lot more than knock someone on his ass.”

I’m not stupid. And I’m not as naïve as people think. But there’s something about Callahan that tells me there’s a lot more to him than brute strength.

My voice softens. “Callahan wouldn’t hurt me,” I tell her. “I’m sure of it. But even if I’m dead wrong, you know I’d never allow anyone to mistreat me.”

“Trin, I hear what you’re saying, and I am listening,” Becca says quietly. “But there are ways a man can hurt you that have nothing to do with his hands.”

Sunday comes. Two days after the brawl at Your Mother’s. My hair is brushed to a sheen and I’m wearing my best?well, dark blue bikini top and jean shorts that is. I show up an hour earlier than usual to set up, even though I’m off today, too.

I finish prepping, adjust the schedule per requests, clean up the office, and then spend the next twenty minutes twiddling my thumbs. There’re only so many things you can do with that whistle.

Mason does a double-take when he sees me and finds everything done, the muscles along his stocky build bulging from his early morning workout. Unlike Sean, he tends to be more staid. Well, except around me.

“You working today, Trin?” he asks.

“Darlin’,” I reply. “I’m what you might call a responsible team captain. Even when I’m not working, I’m working. My heart and soul are part of this crew and this here beach. If you bleed, I bleed. If you weep, I weep. If you need a snack, I eat one right there with you.”

He looks at me over his sunglasses. “You’re waiting for Callahan, aren’t you?”

Wow. It’s like he has super powers or something.

“Is it that obvious?” I ask.

“It is,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. He straightens. “But it looks like you don’t have to wait much longer, here he comes. “My head whips to the side. “Made you look.”

I’m smacking his arm silly when he motions down the beach. “Oh, wait, Trin. He is here. He’s coming now.”

“Yeah, right. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, you suck?” He grabs my shoulders and spins me. I’m ready to whoop his ass when I see a very familiar and gorgeous figure headed my way. “It’s him.” I turn around and smack his arm again. “Did you have to man-handle me in front of my man?”

“Says the crazy woman attacking me.” He turns around and waves. “I’ll see you later, Trin. Sorry you can’t take a joke.”

“Later, Mason, sorry your momma named you after a jar.”

He laughs, despite it not being the first time he’s heard that one. He’s a good guy, that Mason.

So here’s my dilemma: I’m here, but I’m not here. And now that dreamboat of a man I’m here for, but not supposed to be here for, is headed toward me. Is this a good time to remind myself that everything usually makes more sense in my head? Probably not.

I brush off my sandy shorts and walk toward the water’s edge. I keep walking, pretending to dip my feet. As he nears, I offer a small smile, followed by a small wave. Pathetic? Probably. But it’s all I got, folks.

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