Page 215 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
“The guards found Toby unresponsive in his cell around three this morning. Sinclair got to him somehow.”
Liam shared a look with Samuel. They had assumed Toby’s death would be a clean kill, with no signature left to determine who might have been responsible.
“How do you know it was Sinclair?” Liam asked.
“A manchineel.” Nothing upset Dr. William Cohen more than the unexpected, and he grumbled under his breath. “Someone shoved a manchineel down Toby’s throat. It was jammed in there tight, and the initial reports are saying its toxins are likely what triggered the heart attack.”
A manchineel shoved into Toby’s throat? Liam grinned at the same time as Samuel, both of them again impressed with Sinclair’s genius.
“Holy shit,” Liam whispered with just the right inflection of surprise. “When can we have access? Is Anderson or Klausen en route? They won’t let me in, but they might let you in?”
Liam and his father tossed information back and forth, with Samuel leaving them to return to his family. He would need to be with Evie whenthe networks broke the news, not wanting his wife to hear the details alone.
“Listen to me,” his father said once he finished relaying all the information. “I know you want to go, but maybe it’s best that we sit this one out and get the details from Anderson or Klausen this time. Remember, we’re still hunting Emmett Watson.”
Emmett Watson’s body hadn’t been found around the blast, so they could only assume the slippery snake made it out alive.
“I guess you have a point.” Liam pretended to think about it. “I am technically on my honeymoon.”
“That’s right,” his father replied. “Go enjoy your wife andtryto remember you’re a private citizen.”
Jamison had traveled down the three steps to the sand and was currently walking toward him in all her glory. God, she was beautiful with every curve—every fucking inch—of her luscious body and brilliant mind bound to his for eternity.
“I think I can do that.”
He dropped the phone onto the stack of towels next to him, not even bothering to hang up since he was too distracted by his beautiful wife when she reached him. “Good morning, Mrs. Cohen. Wanna join me for a swim?”
Passing him without answering, she smirked over her shoulder, her hips swishing in a way that had his brain short-circuiting. When he gave chase, she squealed as the two of them ran into the waves that had now decided to appear.
“Gotcha.” He caught her easily, lifting her so her legs wrapped around his waist. “What do you want to do this morning, wife? We can swim, surf… or do anything you want.”
Clutching his neck, she gasped as a cold wave crashed against her back. “Well, husband, I want to do something that starts with the letter S—but it has nothing to do with water.”
He kissed her, dropping low in the surf. “But that S word can be done in the water.”
“Don’t you dare.” She tried to wiggle free, her slippery skin driving him crazier. “People could see!”
“We would just be giving the residents of Firewater Beach entertainment while they have breakfast.”
She whooped with laughter, throwing her head back, completely and totally uninhibited. It was what he loved most about her. Jamison was unapologetic about who she was as a person. She loved with her whole heart, living out loud without a care of what anyone else might think.
“You’re incredibly scandalous, Mr. Cohen.”
“I guess you’re just going to have to keep me in line, Mrs. Cohen.”
Pressing her breasts against his chest, she squirmed in the most intoxicating way. “I think I can do that,” she said, her expression turning serious. “Was that the call?”
“It was.”
“And it’s done?”
“It is.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed, another wave flowing over them. “So, we’re…free?”
“We’re free, baby.” He kissed her, never able to get enough. “Now and forever.”
One Year Later
