Page 55 of Under His Skin

There was a darker undertone in what he was telling her, something she couldn’t quite comprehend when it came to her former husband. Spencer was a coward, undoubtedly, but she couldn’t imagine him ever hurting her—not physically.

But she also realized now wasn’t the time to try and debate the fact. “I understand.”

He didn’t look like he was buying her ready agreement. “So if I tell you to run or I tell you to stay and hide, you’re going to do it. No questions asked. Correct?”

“Absolutely.”

He studied her. “Okay then. Let’s get back.”

As they drew nearer to the beach and the sounds of laughter and conversation grew louder, Reynolds slipped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her against his side.

She didn’t not like this.

“There they are,” Tracie said. “We were wondering if maybe you decided to retire early for the night.”

Reynolds led her to one of the chairs, where he took a seat then patted his lap in an invitation.

She stood there, terrified at the prospect of sitting so intimately on Reynolds’s lap while equally thrilled at the prospect of sitting so intimately on Reynolds’s lap. Then carefully, she leaned back, keeping her tush closer to his knees and avoiding the whole crotch area of his pants—for both of their sakes.

The conversation continued around them as everyone reminisced about some of their older adventures. Like Reynolds, Waverley noticed Ronnie checking his watch several times, then looking around almost nervously. What was he so nervous about?

She was so caught up in watching Ronnie that she nearly leaped up when Reynolds’s fingertips trailed a path up her arm. A loving, tender move in the eyes of those around them, but for her, a move so charged and intense it could fuel a rocket ship.

She closed her eyes, savoring his touch. It stirred a hunger that she’d never really known, so unused to the simple loving touches that a man might express to a woman who he was supposed to love.

Someone popped open a third bottle of wine, ready to top everyone’s glasses off, when Ronnie suddenly came to his feet, his hand in his pocket jingling some change. “I-I’ve got to hit the head.”

His departure went unnoticed by everyone else as the conversation continued, but Reynolds’s body had stiffened and his hand had paused to rest on her arm.

A minute passed and Waverley was starting to worry that they were going to miss out on following the guy when Reynolds leaned forward and helped her to her feet.

“I probably should visit the head, too,” he said. “You going to miss me?” he asked and pulled her to him and, before she could answer, brought his lips to hers again. But unlike before, when they had the luxury of time to experience that first wonderful kiss, there was a sense of urgency and almost danger as he kissed her hard and deep then pulled all too quickly away.

She was left to gasp for breath as she watched him leave.

What had just happened? Had he really just ditched her?

“Maybe I’ll go see if he needs a little help,” she said and grinned at the group. “Don’t be alarmed if we don’t make it back.”

There was some laughing, but she didn’t stick around to bask in being the life of the party, instead more intent on trying to figure out what direction Reynolds had gone and hoping she could catch up with him in time.

If anyone was going to get the chance to confront her rat bastard of an ex-husband, it was going to be her.

Once she was far enough away from the group that she could discern other sounds besides their laughter, she paused, closing her eyes like she had some sort of Spidey senses that would somehow guide her in the right direction.

No such luck.

She opened her eyes, considering the available options.

If a lousy, rotten criminal was trying to have a covert meeting with Ronnie Jackson, where would be the best place to have said meeting? Someplace that would offer darkness, privacy, and easy access to an exit route should the situation require it. A place that—

A cracking sound like branches snapping came from over her shoulder, and she turned in the direction it came from, which also happened to be where the boat launch and dock would be.

Kind of obvious, now that she thought about it.

Taking care to move quickly but stealthily, she found the path that led to the dock and kept moving. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as she wondered who she’d come across first. Reynolds, Ronnie, or the worm himself.

She was almost to the dock when a hand wrapped around her arm, followed quickly by another hand covering her mouth, and for a moment, a deep, dark terror gripped hold.

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