Page 21 of Inseverable (Carolina Beach)

Instead of waving back?or heaven forbid,smiling?he surprises me by slowing to a stop next to me.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” he mutters back.

I’m trying not to look at him. Really I am. But considering he’s not wearing a shirt and beads of ocean water are drizzling from his perfect pectorals, down his eight pack abs, to where his black board shorts rest low on his hips, it’s awful hard not to. If it means anything, I’m real proud I’m not wiping drool from my mouth.

He frowns as his eyes scan me from head to toe. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Oh, cause it’s hot and it’s summer.”

I can tell he’s working not to roll his eyes. “Don’t you have a uniform to wear?”

“I would if I was working, but I’m off today.”

His brows furrow tighter and he angles his chin. “Then why are you here?”

“I’m in charge so sometimes I have to come in on my days off to make sure everything’s okay. It may not look it, but I run a real tight ship.”

His gaze skips to where Sean and Craig are trying to impress the new girls with their chicken arm farts. “You’re right, it doesn’t look it.”

I make a mental note to kill them later and I shrug. “Just boys having fun.”

Without looking at me, he motions ahead with a tilt of his chin. “I’m headed that way if you want to come. Unless you have to keep working on that tight ship of yours.”

By now Sean and Craig are pumping their arms to the tune ofMary Had a Little Lamb. “Nah, I’m sure they’ll be fine without me.”

I follow when he pushes off, both of us fall into that nice steady pace we developed. I wait for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I race a head to catch the wave sweeping and kick up water to splash him. He’s come to expect only smooth moves and maturity from me so I can’t exactly let him down.

“Something on your mind?” he asks, ignoring the water trickling along his firm and ogle-worthy abs. His tone sounds annoyed, but the tilt to his lips suggests otherwise.

“That was something the other night wasn’t it?” I say, resuming my pace beside him. “Obnoxious New Yorkers always coming down here causing problems.”

“They weren’t from New York,” he tells me.

“Jersey?”

“Nope.”

“Canada?”

He presses his lips tight. “They were from Texas. I caught sight of their license plate right before they sped off.”

I blow out air. “Well, that explains it. All the crazies are from Texas.”

“I’m from Texas,” he rumbles.

I bat my hand in true “pa-shaw” fashion like I didn’t just insult him and everyone he knows. “Oh, I’m sure you’re the exception. You, your momma, your daddy, your brother?”

“I don’t have a brother.” Again the edges of his mouth curve.

“Sister?” I offer.

“Three,” he admits.

“Okay, I’ll make the exception for them, too?and maybe a couple of first cousins.” I scissor out my hands. “But I draw the line at second cousins twice removed. They’re always a freaky bunch.”

“Is that right?” he asks.

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