Page 56 of A Real Good Bad Thing

She huffed in shared frustration. “Amazing how just hiring a lawyer and fighting like an asshole can enable you to get away with stuff.” She squeezed my hand. “That’s why you do what you do,” she said, getting it, getting me.

“I guess I’ve found my own way to try to see justice done.”

“That’s amazing,” she said, a little awed.

I wasn’t sure what to do with her awe. I didn’t feel noble. I was simply a man trying to live by a code. “I’m glad you think so, Ruby,” I said, genuinely.

“I do,” she said, her voice quiet against the night. “I appreciate you sharing all that.”

Hour by hour, it had become easier to talk with her. To connect. “Thanks for listening.”

I tugged on her hand, and the serious moment started to fade away, like grains of sand pulled out to sea. I didn’t want to flip the mood to lightness or to make a joke. But I didn’t want to keep talking about hard things either. In fact, when I looked at her face, silhouetted by the moonlight, I didn’t want to talk much anymore.

The look in her eyes—inviting, vulnerable—said she didn’t either. I tipped my forehead toward a nearby lifeguard stand, unoccupied at this late hour. We closed the distance, and I backed up to it, leaned against it, feeling like we were in our own corner of the night. One I didn’t want to leave.

26

OTHER USES FOR LIFEGUARD STANDS

Jake

I clasped my hand over hers, pulling her closer to my body. I craved her touch, especially after our talk. I liked this woman. Liked her humor. Liked her heart. I still didn’t want to get involved while I was on a job. But I couldn’t stay away from Ruby.

Maybe I hadn’t tried hard enough. But more likely, I just didn’t want to.

I wanted her.

Badly.

“Our track record on this wholejust-workthing is pretty bad, isn’t it?” I asked, soft, seductive.

“Or it’s pretty good. Depends on how you see it,” she said.

“Good. Bad. Hard to say.”

“Maybe we’re a real good bad thing,” she said.

“You feel pretty damn good against me,” I said as I pressed her hand to my chest a little harder then ran it down to my stomach.

She inhaled sharply as she traced me, her touch like a torch, setting my nerves aflame.

I looked back to her face, lit by the moonlight, a siren torch above us. “You have sand here,” I said, pointing to her ear.

She ran her finger over the spot but missed.

“No. Right there.” I reached for her ear and brushed off the grains, catching a faint whiff of the coconut smell that drove me wild.Shedrove me wild. My fingers drifted into her hair and I cupped the back of her head. “What is it about you that I can’t resist? Your kisses are my undoing.”

“Then take another,” she whispered.

I kissed her on the beach by the lifeguard stand. Her lips were delicious, all cherry sweet from the popsicle. She murmured against my mouth, kissing me back with passion, and I took it. She held nothing back as she melted into my arms and pressed against me—lips, tongue, hands, hips. We were relentless in our kisses, in the grind of our bodies, in the frenzy of our touch.

And I knew I had to fuck her.

When I broke the kiss, my breath came out staggered. “Need you. Now.”

“Have me,” she whispered with heated urgency.

I groaned, thick with a lust that had to be sated. I glanced down the quiet stretch of beach then up at the empty lifeguard stand.

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