by Sandra Cox
“Since I seem to have a negative effect on your sunny disposition, I’m going to leave you alone the rest of the day. I’ll be by this evening to give you self-defense lessons.” He gives me a mocking grin and moves over to join the group of chattering cheerleaders throwing curious looks our way.
I fight back jealousy and reassure myself I’m relieved he left. People are starting to talk. To notice me. I grimace. Talk is an understatement. It’s the number one source of endless speculation at the high school. What does the hot deee-licious Tyler Carlisle see in plain Jane Piper Dunn? Since he’s seen me outside of my disguise, I know the answer to that. What I haven’t figured out is why he got interested before he saw me sans disguise.
A gangly junior, with glasses and lanky black hair, who’s paying as much attention to where he’s going as I, bumps into me. We mutter apologies and head to our prospective classes.
Tyler’s as good as his word. He doesn’t approach me the entire day. Instead, he makes the bevy of senior beauties extremely happy by flirting his insufferable head off with them. At one point, he catches me watching him and winks before turning his attention to Heather Martin, the prettiest girl in school.
His twin, of course, has no such compunction and spends her time conjecturing on what I’ve done to cause her brother to flirt with every girl in school who has a pair of perky breasts. “He’s trying to make you jealous,” she decides. All in all, I’m glad when the school day ends. Wasting no time, I jump in Beulah and head home.
I beat Gramps back. Since he’s been carrying the majority of the kitchen duties lately, I decide to make him meatloaf, baked potatoes, and banana pudding. His faves.
I throw a pair of pink boxers and a white tee over my hot pink two-piece then head for the kitchen. I wash the potatoes, mix the meatloaf, and pop them in the oven. While the meal cooks, I get my laptop, and feeling virtuous, get down to business at the kitchen table.
A hello sounds from the screen door I left open to catch the spring breeze. Tyler. He’s earlier than I expected, though I put an extra potato on just in case.
I smooth my hair back and head for the door, unsure whether or not I should be mad about his blatant flirting. I have no claims on him and therefore nothing to be mad about. Still….
“You’re early.” I don’t scowl when I open the screen door. I don’t smile either.
“Too early?” He wears faded jeans, a white V-neck tee, and looks yummier than my banana pudding.
“Not at all. Come in.”
He moves with loose-limbed grace that I find incredibly sexy. He sniffs. “Wow. Something smells good.”
“Have you eaten yet?”
“No, but I wasn’t angling for an invitation.”
“Of course, you weren’t.” I give him a disbelieving look.
He laughs and throws up a hand. “Guilty. What’s for supper?” He follows me in, the screen door slamming behind him.
I tell him.
“Who fixed dinner?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“I did.” I refuse to be embarrassed about it.
“So, besides your many other skills you can cook, too.”
I laugh. “That may be pushing the envelope. Gramps and I both have limited dishes we know how to prepare. Meatloaf happens to be one of mine.”
“Works for me.”
At that moment, the screen door bangs again. “Piper?”
“In the kitchen, Gramps.”
He walks in, a hardy oak bent and gnarled with age but still strong. I feel an overwhelming rush of love for him. Neither of us is overly demonstrative so instead of rushing to him and throwing my arms around him, I settle for a smile.
It’s enough. He smiles back before he turns to Tyler. “Hello, Tyler. Joining us for supper?”
“If you don’t mind, sir.”
“You’re always welcome here, son.”
“Don’t encourage him.” I put on a mitt and pull the meatloaf out of the oven.
Gramps rubs his hands together, a look of expectant pleasure on his face when he eyes the steaming loaf of meat. Balancing the potatoes I placed in a plate in one hand and the meatloaf in the other, I order Tyler, “Make yourself useful and set the table.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He salutes me. I catch him winking at Gramps. I shake my head and pour the iced tea. We sit down to eat.
Gramps slits his potato. Steam rises in a sensuous wisp. “This looks wonderful.”
“Thanks, Gramps.” I fork in a piece of meatloaf.
“Are you young ’uns going to work on self-defense?”
“That’s the plan, sir.”
We chat back and forth while we eat. I can’t believe how comfortable it is having Tyler spend time with Gramps and me. Almost like family.
“You two run along. I’ll clean up,” Gramps says when we finish.
“Thanks, Gramps.”
Tyler and I walk to the backyard.
“Are you ready?” Tyler fists his hands and brings them to the sides of his face.
“Bring it on.”
He jabs at me. I throw up my hands and block. “Good.” He encourages before tossing a hook. I parry. We’ve been working about an hour when he kicks my foot out from under me. Before I fall, he grabs me and bends me over his arm. He leans in, his breath warm on my face. “Admit it.”
“Admit what?” I pant, still out of breath from the workout. Tiny beads of perspiration dot my body.
He lowers his face till his lips hover above mine. “That you’re my girl.”
I push against him. “Don’t start.”
His arms tighten and his mouth claims mine. He bites gently at my bottom lip. When my mouth opens, his tongue runs across my teeth then slips inside. Heat that has nothing to do with the workout shoots through me.
His lips continue their persuasive assault. He kisses the corner of my mouth then trails kisses to my ear. “Admit you’re my girl.” His warm breath tickles my ear and sends a shiver through me.
I turn my head and find his mouth. Blood pounds in my ears. I grab his hair and kiss him for all I’m worth.
His heart pounds against mine. His voice hoarse, he demands, “Say it.”
I shake my head, trying to clear it rather than deny his request. There’s a reason this isn’t a good idea, but at the moment it eludes me.
“Say it,” he demands again.
“I’m your girl.” In a hormonal haze, I drag his head down to mine, straining close against him. By the time we break apart, we’re both panting. Tyler holds me in his arms. His warm smile washes over me. I snuggle closer, feeling as if I’m in a safe haven.
Tyler’s girl. Warm bubbles of happiness fizz through me. I want to shout and dance and laugh all at the same time…before reality slaps me upside the head. I straighten. The happiness bubbles burst. What the hell have I agreed to? I glance at him through my lashes. There’s no way I’m going to extinguish the light in his eyes. I’ve never seen Tyler vulnerable before. I give an internal sigh. We’ll just have to make some compromises.
I disentangled myself. “Tyler.”
“Mmm-hmm.” His hands slide up and down my arms, distracting me. I try to clear my head.
“We don’t need to make this public, do we?”
While the light doesn’t quite go out, the bright glow notches down. He frowns, puzzled. “Why?”
Mentally, I count to ten. “I’ve told you on more than one occasion, I need to keep a low profile. You’re at the opposite end of the spectrum.” I give him a strained smile.
He grabs my hands. “True, but you haven’t told me why.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Okay, I’ll go first.” He leads me to the wooden bench that sits behind the house, just out of reach of the lamplight. The sweet fragrance of a nearby lilac bush wafts over us.
The sun set nearly an hour ago. Stars bright as diamonds light the dark gray backdrop of approaching night. The moon drifts across the sky. Mother
Nature must be a romantic at heart to create such a perfect setting.
“That’s not necessary. Please don’t.” I settle back against the hard wood of the bench.
He sits down and shifts on the bench before taking my hand. “It’s a matter of faith.”
“Tyler…”
He interrupts. “My uncle is high up the food chain in the Chicago Mafia.”
“You shouldn’t—” I begin. “Say what?”
“I’ve never told anyone that. I’ve also got one that’s a Navy SEAL, but that’s not a secret, just a brag.” He gives me a lopsided smile.
“You shouldn’t have told me.” My voice comes out sharper than I intend. Geez, the Mafia. This just gets better and better. I pull my hand away.
“What, that one of my uncles is a Navy SEAL?”
“You aren’t that obtuse. You know perfectly well I was talking about the Mafia thing.”
“Does that bother you?”
Not as much as finding out his girlfriend is a mutant would bother him. “It took me by surprise, that’s all. And it’s not your secret to share.”
“You’re right. But I wanted to prove a couple of things to you.” He lets go of my hands and slides an arm around me. With the other hand, he holds up a finger ticking off points. “One, you can trust me.” He holds up another finger. “And two, though it’s a bad cliché, things aren’t often as bad as they seem.”
“Yeah right.” I snort. “Not as bad as they seem.” I laugh. Unfortunately, it has a hysterical edge to it.
He waits.
I take a deep breath and get myself under control. My lips clamp together, I stare at the traveling moon.
Tyler sighs. “Okay, you win. Your secret remains your secret.”
“And you don’t show me undue attention at school.” I cock my head and lift an eyebrow.
“If that’s what you want. So you’re saying you don’t have a problem with me flirting with other girls.” He watches me, his body still, his expression unreadable.
“You’re a free agent.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “Tell me, what part of boyfriend and girlfriend don’t you understand?”
“All of it.” I jump up and walk away, rubbing my arms.
He stands. “Perhaps I’d better be going. It seems you can only take the couple thing in small bites.” He smiles but his voice is strained.
Hesitantly, I reach up and touch his cheek. Besides my family, this is the closest I’ve ever let anyone get. “I do like you, Tyler.” And then some, if the way my heart speeds up every time he’s around is anything to go by.
He takes my hand, kisses the palm, and closes my fingers around it. “I know you do. I just wasn’t sure you’d figured it out. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns and with long, loose-limbed strides disappears around the side of the house.
As soon as I hear his car motor, I hurry in to get my knife before I go into the ocean. Better to be safe than sorry. I fasten the scabbard to my leg and trot out. The sound of dishes clicking and water splashing drifts from the kitchen. “I’m going to the ocean, Gramps.”
“Tyler gone?” he calls back.
I head to the kitchen and stand in the doorway. “Yeah.”
“How’s that going?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Relationships always are.”
There is that R word again. “Yeah.”
He glances up and sees my swimsuit and the knife. “Are you going back to where you saw the research vessel?” His expression is troubled.
While I’ve managed to keep thoughts of the research vessel at bay all day, the fear it brings with it comes back full force, crawling like sludge through my system. “I have to. They might have caught another dolphin.”
“Better a dolphin than you.” He turns back to his dishes. Gramps might not like it, but he won’t waste his breath trying to talk me out of it. Gramps has one rule he lives by. Do what’s right. We both know freeing a sea creature planned for experimentation is right.
I walk over, hug his waist, and lean my cheek against his back. “I’ll be careful.”
“See that you are.” His voice gruff, he scrubs vigorously at the meatloaf pan.
I slip out the door, head for the cliff, and dive off.
As I soar through the air, my world rights and the tension tightening my shoulder blades fades. The water barely ripples when I hit it.
Dog paddling, I look around. Except for the occasional splash in the distance, it’s quiet. The moon glints on the water, creating a misty sheen. I look out to sea. My breath lodges in my throat. Is that speck in the distance the vessel I saw last night?
I kick out and swim in that direction. An hour later, I’m close enough to see the ship. Blinking liquid out of my eyes, I sink into the water till only the top of my head and eyes are visible. Nothing on board moves. I let myself drop underwater and look around. My hair tickles my shoulders as it floats around me.
My heart tightens. The trap is next to the ship and holds an adult dolphin that chatters in distress.
I bite my lips and force my pounding heart to slow. Pulling out my knife, I quickly spring the lock. The dolphin chatters louder and nudges me hard with his nose, pushing me back a couple of feet as he swims free.
He shoves me again. Something’s wrong. Now that he’s free, he shouldn’t be this agitated. My muscles tighten. My breathing shallow, I glance up. A diver!
Cursing myself for letting him take me by surprise, I shove away, fast, but he’s already on me. He reaches for my foot and grabs my ankle.
A dark shadow cuts through the water nearby on my right. The feel of wet rubber hits my leg. The diver lets go as the dolphin dives between us.
With a burst of speed, I shoot through the water, intent on putting as much distance as possible between myself and the diver. I glance over my shoulder; the diver comes doggedly on, but the distance between us grows.
In the water, my reflexes, my muscles, and agility are on par with the creatures of the sea. The diver falls further and further behind.
I swim hard. By the time I feel it’s safe to slow down, my heart is pounding. I glance to my right and freeze. I’ve attracted the attention of something more dangerous than a diver.
Chapter 17
A great white is only a few feet away. Its flat, black eyes make my heart rate accelerate and panic flood my system. Sharks scare the holy crap out of me, especially great whites. I swim slowly backward never taking my gaze off the huge shark. I read somewhere they have over three thousand teeth. Why does any fish need that many teeth?
The shark keeps pace with me. I have a strong desire to wring my hands. Where are my dolphin buddies when I need them? Not fair. I’ve already been saved once tonight. Plus, I don’t want them to become shark fodder.
Stay calm. I force my heart rate to level. I don’t want to use up my remaining oxygen too quickly. It’s been a while since I’ve surfaced. I certainly can’t now. Half an hour is my max. But if it comes to drowning or being eaten by a shark, I choose drowning.
The shark circles me. I turn with it. My head feels light from lack of oxygen. Keeping my eyes on the shark, I kick upward. I want to get as close to the surface as I can.
It swims closer. Looking deep into those soulless eyes, I know it’s getting ready to attack. Panic disappears. Calm takes its place. I fist my hands, ready to fight.
It moves with unbelievable speed and beauty. Jaws wide, it comes at me.
I pull to the side and aim for its eye. My fist makes contact with its head and glances off.
I don’t do any damage but it takes the shark by surprise. Those huge jaws close. He shakes his head and thrashes his tail. Always go for the eyes, gills, or nose, Gramps has said over and over. I lunge for his snout. Bringing my fists together, I hit as hard as I can.
He turns so fast, his tail knocks against my side and stomach. Reflexively, my mouth opens in a gasp. I swallow water. Burbli
ng, I head for the surface. The shark is no longer my primary concern; I feel like I’m drowning. I shoot to the surface and gasp for air, coughing. I manage to chuff, water spilling out of my blowhole.
It’s only when I can breathe again that I take a cautious look around.
The shark is gone.
I’ve had all the adventure I can handle for one night and head home. My arms feel leaden; each breath hurts my lungs. I hope I don’t encounter any more creatures in trouble, because I’m not sure I can do anything about it.
The feel of wet rubber grazes my side. I look around, alarmed, afraid the great white has come back for a snack. Relief floods me. It’s my friends. Swimming on each side of me is a dolphin. I grab their fins and hold on. I’m not sure if they ran off the shark or he decided I wasn’t worth the effort. Either way, I’m glad he’s gone.
The dolphins carry me several miles. When I see the shore, I let go.
“Thanks.”
They chirp in reply. My gaze follows them as they swim back toward the middle of the ocean. Half-swimming, half-floating I make my way to the shallows, drag myself up the trail and into the house.
Gramps looks up from the murder-mystery he’s reading. His feet are up and a large, empty bowl sits at his side. The smell of buttered popcorn hangs in the room. My mouth waters but the need for rest is stronger than the need for food.
“You okay?” He places a finger between the pages and closes the book.
“Just tired. I’m going to bed. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.” I trudge toward my bedroom. It seems a million miles away.
“Sweet dreams, Pip.”
“Thanks, Gramps.” Ten more steps to go, one foot after the other. I slip out of my wet suit and drop onto the bed. Sleep comes instantly.
The screeching alarm clock interrupts dreams of running from divers before morphing into a dolphin in front of Tyler.
I stumble into the tiny bathroom off my bedroom. “Crap.” In the middle of my ablutions it dawns on me I haven’t done my homework. “Oh well.” I’ll have to beg forgiveness and turn it in late, an automatic grade drop. I dress, and hurry to the kitchen, my stomach rumbling like a freight train. My mouth waters at the scent of oatmeal and coffee.
