Page 52 of Inseverable (Carolina Beach)

I’m ready to come when her phone starts ringing and buzzing against my bedside table. Considering what she’s doing, and how fine she’s doing it, I don’t care about the phone. I only care about her and what’s about to happen.

I haul her to me as I feel my release, kissing her with all the passion she’s riled within me. She knows what’s happening and hangs on, rubbing and finishing me off. I jerk so hard, I rock us both, unable to hang onto our kiss.

Her lips trail along my neck and shoulder. I can’t control my breathing, and neither can she, both of us reeling from what’s happened, and what we’re about to do next.

I lift her hips and wrench her shorts down. Again, her phone rings. This time, she stops what I’m doing and pulls away.

“Sorry, I have to get this,” she says, reaching for the phone. “Hello?”

“Trin. It’s me, Hale. I know you said you’d be late, but we need you here now.”

She scoots her butt, trying to pull her shorts back on with her free hand. “What’s wrong?”

“A storm’s hit off the coast. The waves are getting rough and we’re trying to shut down the beach. Problem is we’re down four guards.”

“Fourguards?” Trin says.

“Yup. All with food poisoning. But that’s what happens when you eat at Bucky’s Burgers,” he adds. He sighs when she hesitates. “Trin, you know I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t necessary. But I need you down here.”

“Okay,” she tells him quietly. “I’m on my way.”

She disconnects and adjusts her breasts beneath the cups, her messy hair falling around her as she hurries to fix her disheveled clothes. It’s only when she stands to shove her feet into her shoes that she looks back at me. “I’m sorry. ButI have to go.”

I clasp her wrist, pulling her back. “Don’t,” I tell her. “Get someone else to cover for you, and stay here with me.”

She leans in and strokes my face. “I can’t. They need me.”

She kisses my mouth and hurries out the door. I sit up and swipe my face, realizing for the first time just how badly I need her, too.

Chapter Fifteen

Trinity

My head was still spinning from my morning with Callahan when I arrived at the beach. But reality hit me the moment I saw how bad the waves were and found my team struggling to save a couple of swimmers who were caught in the riptide. With four lifeguards down, I ended up jumping in the water with my clothes on to rescue a little boy. It’s not the first time I’d saved someone from drowning, but this little boy, whose face was so white with fear, hit me especially hard.

I didn’t notice Callahan arrive. My team and I were too busy trying to make sure everyone was safe and accounted for. But there he is, waiting patiently while the sheriff, the owner of Magenta Groves, the EMTs and I conference to discuss everything that happened. Like the rest of my team, I pushed myself to my breaking point. But it was saving that little boy from drifting away that well-neared choked the life out me. I’m tired and want nothing more than to leave with Callahan. But I try not to let it show as I listen to each man speak.

The sheriff nods. “The other beaches pulled their swimmers out when they got wind that Magenta Groves was closing shop. Just so you know, your executive decision likely helped save a lot of lives all over the island.”

I smile at Hale since it was his call. “I’d expect no less from my second in command,” I tell them.

With the owner’s permission, Hale and I step away.

“So, I’m you’re second in command?” Hale asks, smirking in that way that makes all those pretty gals chasing him swoon.

“Of course,” I tell him. “And after today, I think you deserve a promotion and a raise.”

“A raise, too?” he says.

I pat his back. “That’s right. I’m going to make sure you get that buck fifty an hour extra if it kills me.”

He laughs, but then glances up when one of the ambulances pulls away. One of the men, he and Mason pulled out is stable, but given his age, they’re taking him to the local hospital to make sure he’s okay.

“It could have been bad,” Hale says, his humor fading as the ambulance disappears. “Real bad. It didn’t take long for those waves to go from bad to worse, and for the riptide to drag people under.”

“I know.” I look to where Callahan is sitting on the sand. To any outsider, he looks like someone simply taking everything in. But I recognize that detached stare in his gaze, similar to the way I’d found him last night. The two men sprawled along the sand just moments ago, along with the little boy being cared for must have triggered more of those terrible memories.

“Lewis is dead,” he called out last night when his PTSD hit him hard.

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