Page 1 of Irreverent (Salvation Society)

Chapter One

Libby

Three days into my solo, reclaiming singlehood beach trip, and all I have to show for it are pictures of hazy days from my patio, an almost demolished bottle of wine, and a bruise on my left shin from my first run-in with the wedding party of twenty-somethings who apparently believe it’s spring break and Jekyll Island is a frat house. If I’d known this is how self-pampering would turn out, I would have saved myself the long flight and spent my vacation at home on the couch with my dog, risking the endless calls from the department.

But no, I had to thumb my nose at Beckett by turning our romantic getaway into the “ultimate” single and free excursion. I’d been looking forward to this escape for six months before Beckett surprised me withthe talk. I mean, I’d been more surprised by the fact that he’d cleared his schedule for an hour to have our little sit-down. The breakup, he handled like a typical business manager and I like the fact-reliant detective. I’d always appreciated how we could negotiate the facets of our busy lives with cool heads, but it was strange hammering out the details of a called-off engagement with the same remote neutrality.

And yet, I still found it imperative to carry on and prove something by packing up and heading to the beach solo.

I top off my glass with the rest of the wine I’d ordered for us months ago, Beckett’s favorite. I’m not a wine drinker, but by the time I remembered tacking on the request to our condo rental, requesting that they sub it with a nice supply of whiskey and lemonade seemed like a Beckett move. I stretch out my leg and drag over the second patio chair to prop up my feet and sink back into my book on criminal psychology.

Yep, I’m so without a non-work life, I bring it on vacation.

“Should I be worried?”

My head snaps up and I glare over the top edge of my book, expecting one of the young members of the rambunctious wedding party. Instead, I stare open-mouthed at the hunk of a man on the adjoining patio with a black bag slung over his shoulders. The sight of him and his unannounced appearance leave me struggling to process. He stands tall, with broad, muscular shoulders, dark hair just long enough to be messy on top, and a neatly trimmed beard that accentuates his strong jaw. He drops his bag on the table and gestures toward my reading material.

Right, he asked a question.

“Depends.” I flip the book closed, not even bothering to mark my page since I haven’t been paying attention. “Are you a criminal?”

Wouldn’t that be just my luck? Escaping Ashville for a week to be shacked up next to a criminal on a small Atlantic island.

He tilts his head, drawing the back of his knuckles through the coarse dark hair along his jawline. “No.”

“Then no worries.”

“I don’t know.” He smiles, lifting his brows sightly, still giving me an intense, skeptical look. “Anyone who calls that beach reading is pretty worrisome.”

“Oh, we’re going for the brutal jabs in the first five minutes?” I lift my wine glass to my lips, then pause. “Not that I can argue with your logic. I grabbed it for the flight, but since I’m avoiding the current obnoxious crowd that’s roaming around, I’ve found it to be an effective deterrent. I’m not really doing well on this relaxing, self-pampering agenda, I’ll admit.”

Way to spin that into something that doesn’t sound pathetic.

Life’s just easier when I have something to focus on. Processes. Goals. Cleaning up a city that’s been struggling for decades.

“Sorry to break your streak.” He scoffs, leaning back with his right arm resting on the railing, and I notice the frog skeleton tattooed on the inside of his right bicep. The top portion is scarred over with what looks to be an old burn. “What is it you do?”

“I work in law enforcement. Of course, there was some pushback when I made Captain, so I have to stay ahead of the game. I want to say it’s been a crazy year, but for Ashville, it’s been about average, really.” We lost one of our own to an accidental fentanyl overdose. Honestly, I thought that would have been the end of my interim Captain assignment, but Trent’s successful infiltration of the motorcycle club and our collaboration with the Chief and other districts finally earned me that permanent title.

It seems that every goal, every pinnacle I work toward, just brings me to the ledge of a cliff. It’s never the satisfying victory I expect it to be. So, I look for another wall to climb, set a new goal, and expect that one to give me the validation I’m looking for.

“And what about you?” I have a suspicion. I mean, it’s a little obvious, given the tattoo.

“Private security.” His expression hardens as he takes a step back and grabs his bag. Then he looks from the tattoo to me, tipping his head to the side. “I used to be a SEAL, but I wasn’t able to return after my last deployment.”

I nod, shelving what seems like a sensitive topic. “So, what brings you to Jekyll Island? If you’re security, maybe I’m the one who should worry.”

He chuckles, lifting his knuckles to his lips. “I had some stuff to take care of in Brunswick. I have family there. I’m also taking care of a meeting for work while I’m here and...” He lifts his shoulders, staring out over the horizon. “I figured I could enjoy a break while I’m here, not that there isn’t enough beach in Virginia Beach.”

“Yeah, I imagine that’s so depressing. I’d offer you a consolation drink, but I’m running dry and I haven’t ventured far from the condo after my first run-in with the wedding-breakers Friday night.” I tip my glass toward the purple splotch on my shin.

“Wedding breakers?”

“Give it about an hour and you won’t need an explanation. It’s been like a frat party since I arrived. Friday, I walked down to the bar to get away from their pool party out back and grab some food. I didn’t even get to enjoy my chicken wings before a few of the rowdier members of the party flipped my table while rough-housing, so I’m laying low until they leave in the morning.” I got free food and drinks out of it as their apology, so at least there’s that. I still would have preferred to avoid the headache—and shin pain.

“I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your wine, and I’ll try to keep the noise levels and partying to a minimum.” He steps away with a cheeky grin and a wink.

I can see the remains of my self-control slipping away already.

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