by Tess Oliver
“I am planning to search for some more, Ben, and I’ll think about that store.”
We climbed into the jeep. “And what exactly is sea glass?” Cash asked.
“It’s just broken pieces of glass that have been worn smooth and frosty looking by the salt, sun and tide. It’s usually green, brown or clear, mostly because it comes from discarded beverage bottles. But it does make nice jewelry.” I pulled out onto the road. “It was a hobby I started, and I sold quite a few pieces to people in town. But I just don’t have the time to continue. I kind of miss it though.” I looked over at him. He looked extra big in the front of the jeep. “Are you still enjoying your handyman job?”
“I am. I like seeing things get accomplished. It’s completely different than what I’m used to.”
“When you always got things unaccomplished?” I asked.
He dropped his gaze. “Not unaccomplished just not accomplished. Lots of destruction, meaningless relationships and sketchy schemes to make fast money. Nothing good.” His voice had dropped as if he was ashamed to admit it.
“You just described the Drake family business in one long compound sentence. And my dad has no excuse for his dissent from the human race. He had a successful fishing business. I guess he just got tired of getting up before the sun and spending hours on the frigid sea waiting for his nets and traps to fill.” My upsetting conversation with Bodhi crept back into my thoughts. “I think with the newest addition to their team that things are soon going to grow out of even my dad’s scope of madness. My brother, Bodhi, looked like a zombie when he walked out of the house today. He was in a horrid mood, not usual for him.”
“Hey, you make sure to stay away from Clint and Jacob, all right?”
“That won’t be easy, but I’ll try.” Brimby’s Cove came into view as I drove the jeep around the curve of highway that led right past the Brimby Cove Lighthouse. The red stripe that spiraled down its long torso had faded to a muted rose color, and the bright white had dulled to a dishwater yellow. But it was still awesome to look at. Five hundred yards away, behind a broken down fence and nearly buried by long vines of Clematis that had at one time only covered a single trellis, sat the house I’d dreamed about renting someday. The two motorcycles were parked out front. I pulled my eyes away.
“I take it that is the house,” Cash said.
“Yes, and with each day those two live inside it, it will lose a bit of charm. So pissed I can’t even think about it.”
“The lighthouse is no longer in use?” Cash asked.
“No, I think they stopped using it in the mid sixties. Sadly, modern technology has rendered a lot of lighthouses obsolete. But they are kept around for historical sake, thank goodness. But ours is in sore need of new paint.” I pointed ahead. “There’s the cove, and as I expected, it is deserted.”
Cash glanced into the backseat. “Hmm, a deserted beach, a really big blanket and a long legged girl. I like it.”
“I’m glad you are excited about the blanket because I’ve got to warn you the lunch isn’t too impressive. There is rarely anything edible in our refrigerator, and when there is, the three pigs eat it up so fast all I catch is a faint aroma.” I pulled along the side of the road and parked.
Cash stared down at the cove. Even though the air was brisk, the sky was bright blue and the green water glided over the rocks, leaving behind ivory foam. We got out of the jeep and Cash reached in for the ice chest and blanket.
“Cool place.” We climbed down the rocky path to the sand below.
“Yeah, I used to spend a lot of time here as a kid. Bodhi and I would ride our bikes over here, and we’d climb on the rocks looking for crabs and sand dollars. There were times, back before my mom left and when my dad still fished, when my family was— well, normal and boring.”
He nodded. “I can’t say the same about my family, but I think I went to bed every night wishing for some of that boredom. I know I wanted normal.” He gazed at the water, and it seemed he’d drifted back to his childhood for a second.
“Yep, boring— it’s a wonderful thing.” I hopped off the last rock and motioned for him to follow. “There’s a nice place over here by the side of the cliff that is at just the right angle to shield us from the wind.”
He trudged behind in his black leather jacket and jeans. Sand flicked off the toes of his black boots. I glanced back at him and laughed.
“What? Do I look like a tourist in my leather coat and boots?”
“Sort of. But a very hot tourist.” The words fell out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about them. But on a quick second thought, I realized I was glad I’d said it. I couldn’t hold back a smile as I took the blanket from his hands. I was going to allow myself the luxury of liking this man no matter what my niggling common sense was telling me.
“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked.
I spread the blanket out and pointed to a spot for the ice chest. He lowered it down. “No reason. Do you want to eat first or take a walk?” I slipped off my flip-flops.
“A walk.” He removed his leather jacket and dropped it down on the blanket. His black t-shirt clung to every muscle. His shoulders strained against the fabric as he removed his boots. Up close, he was truly an intimidating sight, which only added to my crush. And thinking of him as a crush made me smile again.
“That’s twice. Now you have to tell me what you’re grinning about, or I’m going to start feeling self-conscious. Did someone put a ‘kick-me’ sign on my back?” He twisted around and pretended to look at his back.
I took his hand in mine and we walked. “First of all, there is no way in hell anyone would be brave enough to stick a ‘kick-me’ sign on that back, and it seems there would be just as slim a chance of you ever feeling self-conscious.”
He laughed. “Fine, but that still doesn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, about the smile?” I paused. “I was just smiling because I’ve come down to this cove with other guys, and for the first time, I’m walking this sand with someone who I really want to be with.”
His hand tightened, and he stopped.
I stared down at the sand, suddenly horrified that I’d said too much. A guy like Cash had, no doubt, been with many girls.
“Don’t know why that just popped out, but I guess there’s no taking it back.”
He lifted my chin, and I had no choice but to look at him. “And I’ve never walked on this sand before, but I’m with someone who, no matter where I was standing, I would really want to be with.”
I turned and continued walking, determined to hide the blush that now warmed my face. The water rushed up toward the shore and sprayed us with a cool, briny mist. “I have to ask, since you were with a club, do you have one of those cool tattoos with the club logo on it?”
“You like those, huh?”
“I would be lying if I said no. Of course, it all depends on who’s sporting the tattoo.”
“Let me ask this— will having one be my ticket to that kiss?”
“Quite possibly.”
He stopped, turned and lifted his shirt up off his back. A scary looking skull with a hatchet sticking out of it stared back at me from his broad, muscular torso. Bedlam was written in black letters above the skull. The skeletal face seemed to move with the contraction of his muscles.
“Oh my, that works,” I said on a faulty breath. I reached forward to touch it, and he jumped slightly, obviously not expecting my fingertips. He turned before lowering his shirt, and I caught a glimpse of a long, puckered scar running along the tight muscles of his stomach. He lowered the hem of his shirt, but I pushed it back up. Now it seemed that his breath stuttered.
I ran my fingers along the hard ridges of the scar. It was a good ten inches long. “Shit,” I said quietly, “this really puts that scar above your eye to shame.” His long, black lashes shaded his eyes as he stared down at my hand. The muscles in his stomach tightened more under my touch. I drew my hand away, and the shirt slid back down. He
was silent. We were both silent at first.
I swallowed hard thinking about the horrid scar. “As cool as that tattoo is, I’m glad you left the club. No one should ever have a scar like that just from trying to stay alive.” The man who rarely showed tension had it flowing off of him in waves. I walked on, hoping he’d relax and chastising myself for making such a big deal about the scar.
Before I took two steps, his big fingers wrapped around my arm and he pulled me against his chest. His grip tightened as he lifted me to my toes and pressed his mouth down over mine. It was not one of those kisses that started gentle and then grew in intensity. It started off hard and deep, and in seconds, my legs felt like pudding and I was melting against him, clutching his shirt to stay upright. By the time he pulled his mouth from mine, it was a chore just opening my eyes. I peered up at him and that cautious, controlled smile tilted his mouth. He obviously noticed the state of delirium his one kiss had left me in.
“I think I could get used to unchained.” My voice wavered.
“Trust me, sweetheart, that wasn’t unchained. But when it is, you’ll know it without question.” His smile widened, a rarity for him, almost as if he’d trained himself never to be too happy in case disappointment was around the corner. His arms lowered, and the cool ocean breeze swept in and brushed over me. Every inch of me had been heated by the kiss, and the stark difference in temperature produced a shiver.
He turned and dropped his heavy arm around my shoulders.
“Should we go eat?” I asked.
“Sounds good.” We turned back toward the blanket.
Several seagulls had landed nearby and were loyally standing guard over the ice chest. I laughed. “If only they knew how disappointing the contents were. No potato chips or cheese curls. They love cheese curls.” Our approach didn’t stir the birds from their sentry posts. They watched with great interest as I opened the chest and pulled out a sandwich. I handed it to Cash. “Hold onto it. I’ve actually placed my sandwich down and turned to reach for my drink, only to return to my sandwich as it was flying away in a long yellow beak.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He unwrapped his sandwich. “I don’t think I’ve ever been on a picnic. Unless you count shoveling a burrito in your face while driving a car a picnic. I’ve done that more than once.” He took a bite.
“Never been on a picnic, wow.” Something told me Cash had missed out on a lot of cool simple stuff like picnics and hanging holiday lights. “Well, I’ve never jumped from an airplane,” I said casually.
He peered over at me. “You know a lot of people have never jumped from a plane, right? In fact, I’ve never even been on a plane.”
I swallowed my bite. “Well, I’ve never been to the circus. But that’s mostly because of my deathly fear of clowns.”
“Well, I’ve never ridden on an elephant,” he said confidently.
“How about this— I’ve never kissed a hippopotamus while wearing a pink tutu.”
“I see, but you have kissed one while not wearing a tutu?”
Laughter nearly made me choke on my sandwich. I took a sip of water and caught my breath. “No, not exactly. I just thought a pink tutu would add a nice visual.”
“O.K. this game of one-upmanship is just getting stupid. And it’s kind of depressing knowing that we’re obviously missing out on a lot of stuff.”
Several of the seagulls had moved closer, and their yellow and black eyes focused on the crust of my sandwich. I tossed the bread several feet away, and they squawked and flapped their wings in an attempt to be the first to reach it. A shadow passed overhead and four more seagulls and several cocky pigeons joined the melee.
“I do have a good one though.” My cheeks warmed at the thought of what I was about to confess.
He held his soda and rested his forearm on his knee. There was always so much emotion in his face, and that, coupled with the memory of the kiss, a kiss I would not soon forget, caused me to hesitate. He waited for me to continue.
“I’ve never had a guy—” I shook my head. “Nevermind.”
He laughed. “On no, you don’t start a sentence like that and leave the listener hanging. Finish it.”
“I’ve never had a guy— you know—”
“You’re a virgin?”
“No,” I said a little too emphatically. “I’m not. It’s a small town and there isn’t all that much to entertain. I’ve never had a guy satisfy me.” My face burned with a blush now, and I wondered why the hell I’d decided to divulge that embarrassing fact.
“You mean no guy has ever made you come?”
“A rather crude way to put it, but yeah. Never.”
He pushed the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and appeared to be contemplating my confession as if it seemed utterly impossible to believe. “Well, I can’t help you with the hippo and tutu thing, but I can help with the satisfaction thing.”
“Forget I brought it up. I’m totally embarrassed now.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s not your fault the guys in this town are a bunch of no talents.”
The last crumbs of my crust finished, our feathered friends plopped down in the sand around our blanket to rest.
I smiled at him. “Only a man with unshakeable confidence would say that.”
“Guess so.”
The staccato sound of a boat motor sounded in the distance. Some of the sunlight had been filtered by a thin, starchy layer of clouds, but it still showered down on a motorboat puttering across the choppy surface. There seemed to be four men on board, but I couldn’t see their faces. Even from the distance we sat, it was easy to see that it was a nice pleasure boat. There was a ramp on the back with a Waverunner tied down on top. The sunlight glinted off something in the hand of one of the people on board. It was a pair of binoculars. They were watching us.
Cash saw the binoculars too. He turned to me. “Friends of yours?”
“Nope. I don’t recognize the boat either.”
Cash opened a can of soda and peered over the brim as he took a long drink. He lowered it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand without taking his eyes off the boat. Loud wolf calls shot out from it, but I still had no idea who our picnic intruders were.
Cash looked over at me. “It’s those two brothers, Clown and Joker or whatever the hell their names are. And they’re with a couple of other guys who make the brothers look like boy scouts.”
I looked at him. “You can seem them from here?”
“Yep, I’ve always been able to see great at a far distance.” He kept his attention on the boat. They watched us without shame. Cash lifted his chin to get a better view. “Your brother, Seton, is there too.”
I couldn’t see faces clearly, but it was easy to recognize the familiar outline of my brother as he stepped up to the railing and yanked the binoculars from the man who’d been watching us. Now, I too, could see that it was Clint. Seton stuck the binoculars against his eyes and then lowered them.
“Your brother looks pissed.” Cash waved at him.
“Yeah, he’s always pissed about something. Fortunately, I’ve found that I can easily ignore him.
Clint grabbed back the binoculars, and it was easy to see which way he pointed the lenses. Instinctively, I crossed my arms around my chest, and a cold tremble went through me. “I really hate that guy.”
My comment and my sudden change in demeanor got Cash’s attention. “Esme, put my number in your phone. If that guy ever comes within fifty feet of you, I want to know. Small town advantage, I can be at your side from anywhere in the village in ten minutes. I’ve known guys like him, and the way he looks at you—”
“Cash, stop.” My throat tightened. “You’re freaking me out. Unfortunately, I know Clint and what he’s capable of.” I blinked back tears. “Trust me, no one knows better than me. But I stopped carrying a cell phone. Too expensive.”
“Shit. No phone?”
“You know, I have managed to survive here all on my own long before you got her
e.”
He nodded. “I know.” His chest rose and fell with an exasperated breath. “Sorry.”
I reached over and placed my hand on his arm, not caring if we were still being watched or not. “No, don’t apologize. It was nice. I’m just not used to having someone worry about me.” My voice broke. I’d been on my own, trying to survive, even with everything constantly working against me. Sadly, it was beyond my scope of belief that someone cared enough to want to protect me.
The other guys on the boat had apparently bored of the uneventful scene on the beach. The boat chugged along over the choppy current and eventually out of view of the cove. I had no idea what Seton was getting himself into, but having Clint and Jacob back in town was the last thing he needed. He and his unsavory buddies had certainly shattered our peaceful little picnic.
“Just so you know, since you are inexperienced, picnics don’t usually include a group of sleazy voyeurs with binoculars.”
Sometimes his smile was just a glint of light in his otherwise dark eyes. If I blinked I would miss it, but I hadn’t blinked. He stood up and his giant shadow fell over me. Sometimes his size made my breath catch in my throat. This was one of those times. He lowered his hand. “Come on. I want to see what sea glass looks like.”
I put my hand in his and he lifted me easily to my feet. I dusted the sand from my jeans. “There are a few deep recesses in the cliffs that make cool little caves. Sometimes the sea glass gets lodged inside. The caves fill up with water when the tide comes in, but we’ll be able to walk through them right now.” He held my hand, but I led the way.
It was that time of day when the waves were cresting into tall curls. As each wave lifted, it became a green, glassy window to whatever lurked beneath the surface, a tangle of seaweed, a small school of fish, a discarded paper cup. The water told its story with each curl. Cash stared at the ocean as if he still couldn’t believe he was living so near it.
