“Good point. I’m Cooper Hudson. Coop, to my friends.”
“Darcy Trent.”
“It’s been a long time since I met an ocean virgin.”
“Oh, but only in the aquatic sense, I assure you.” What? Why wave her long-vanished virginity under his nose? Now he probably thought she had the morals of an alley cat. But hearing the hottest man she’d ever seen use the word virgin threw her for a loop. Not the standard nice-to-meet-you conversation, by a long shot.
He flashed an easy smile. “Don’t worry. I hadn’t planned on delivering you as a virgin sacrifice to appease the volcano gods over at the mini-golf course.”
Okay, now Darcy could add funny to the list of his overwhelming awesomeness. Maybe she really had blacked out and was hallucinating her ideal man while unconscious, underwater. What else could explain such perfection?
“Darcy, what happened?” Trina’s yell preceded her appearance in front of them. After a quick yank upward to her scrap of a top, she rested her hand on Darcy’s leg. “Why’s he carrying you? Did you get stung in the foot by a jellyfish? ’Cause if you did, I’ll pee on it. That’ll take the sting away.”
That certainly settled the whole am-I-hallucinating question. Never, ever would Darcy fantasize about her best friend peeing on her. The situation had to be real. And if Trina in all her adorable annoyingness was real, then her hot hero hunk had to be real, too.
To her dismay, Cooper lowered her to the ground.
“Your friend’s fine,” Cooper announced. “A wave almost rolled her, so she’s a little shaken up, but uninjured.”
“You keep your distance,” Darcy warned with a hand raised to keep Trina at arm’s length. “Don’t even think about peeing on me. Not even if I get attacked by an entire school of jellyfish.”
Trina wrinkled her nose. “Okay, but if the situation arises, just remember that I would be willing to make that sacrifice.”
“Friendship is a beautiful thing.” Cooper’s sardonic tone belied the sincerity of his expression. He stepped closer to the edge of a white and red striped towel, squatted, and picked up a phone. After checking the display he winced. “Ten minutes in the water and I racked up seven missed calls. Unbelievable.”
Getting a better look at his shoulders as broad as a chalkboard, Darcy assumed the calls were all from international lingerie models who’d do anything to be the next notch on his headboard. But instead of stating the obvious, she popped out a platitude. “Busy guy. Work won’t leave you alone on vacation?”
Again, that indefinable shadow slipped across his eyes, as fast as a blip on a sonar screen. “I wish. No, it’s my family. My well-intentioned, overprotective, smothering, annoying family.” Cooper shook his head, sending water droplets in a fine spray across the sand. “I’d better call them back. It’s the only way to stop the madness.”
Family problems? Darcy could not only relate, but she could talk his ear off on that particular subject. Probably a good thing for him to go before she accidentally unloaded that trailer of dysfunction on him. “Thanks again for saving my life.”
“Not a big deal.” He ran a quick hand down her arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. “This is my usual spot. Maybe I’ll see you around.” Cooper set off at an easy lope toward the dunes.
“Not a big deal?” Darcy echoed. Trina slapped a hand across her mouth and pointed at Cooper.
“Shhh. Watch those muscles ripple across his back. When was the last time you saw a guy that ripped in real life? We need to quietly admire all that flexing, golden skin. You know, like how you make me be quiet when we’re in art museums.”
She had a valid point. They stood, quietly ogling until a few seconds later, Cooper disappeared between the dunes. Trina dropped her hand. “Now you can rant.”
Darcy led the way back to their towels. “I can’t believe he’d be so dismissive about rescuing me. There are cultures all over the world who believe Cooper is responsible for my life, now that he saved it. Or, conversely, that I will owe him until I, in turn, save his life. In fact, it is a very huge deal!”
“Maybe you could offer to buy him a Drumstick the next time the ice cream truck swings by.”
“Sure. That should even out my cosmic debt.”
Trina collapsed onto the towel, arms and legs splayed wide to catch the maximum drying rays of sunshine. “You don’t fool me for a minute. There’s no debt. You’ve got a craving for that muscle-icious hunk of man. Which, since I’m not dead and past the age of consent, I totally get. But you’ll grab at any excuse to see him again, no matter how weird.”
Every once in a while Trina spit out an observation so perceptive, it was as if intelligent aliens momentarily possessed her body. The moments never lasted long. “I’ll give you half credit. I really do feel like I owe him...some sort of restitution.” Darcy drummed her fingers against the canvas arms of her chair. “Something bigger than an ice cream cone, but smaller than saving him from a burning building.”
“Hmm. Sounds like a big, wet smooch would fit the bill.”
The chances of that opportunity arising were about as slim as Darcy going back in the ocean today. “Did you get a good look at him? Cooper Hudson can do wayyyy better than me.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Darcy. You’ve got a skinnier sort of Xena, Warrior Princess thing going for you. And Xena did very well with both the men and the ladies.”
That, right there, was why she loved Trina so much. Nobody could see rainbows in the middle of a Class Five hurricane like Trina Trimble. “Thanks for the support, but I doubt we’ll see Cooper again.”
“You never know. The beach is a very small world unto itself. By tomorrow you’ll recognize everyone around us, five umbrellas deep.”
Darcy stretched out her legs and crossed her ankles. The tips of her toes touched the line of umbrella shade, so she should be protected from sunburn for at least an hour. “Nope. Noticing people would require keeping my eyes open. I’m hoping to start the first of several naps. Stir for lunch, maybe lay on the towel for the next one. Almost drowning and being rescued by the hottest man on the beach really drained me. This week is supposed to be about rest, relaxation, followed by another heaping dose of rest.”
“You can’t nap. It’ll ruin my whole plan for the day.”
Oh no. “What sort of a plan?”
“Helping me train for my new career.”
Very, very bad. Trina changed careers the way other women changed shoes. In the last year alone she’d run a tanning salon, gone to dental hygienist school, and a memorable two-week flirtation with decorating cakes. Like an ominous movie soundtrack, the semi-circle of sea gulls foraging in the sand let out a refrain of piercing squawks. “What’s it going to be this time?”
“I’m training to be a private investigator. This afternoon you’ll help me tail somebody, and then I thought tomorrow we’d go shop for stakeout accessories. And a gun.”
Of course. Darcy scrapped her plans to waste her afternoon daydreaming about the sexy man she’d probably never see again. Because what could be more relaxing than shopping for firearms?
Chapter Two
Cooper hot-footed it across the scorching sand. In one hand he carried the best possible beach lunch: a huge Italian cold cut from Billy’s Subs and a full-size bag of chips. The best part about a lunch that big was that it guaranteed an immediate slide into an afternoon nap. A cooler with two kinds of soda and an end-of-the-day beer weighed down the other arm. Yet when he spotted the curves under a navy two piece now burned into his brain, he stopped. Meeting Darcy had been the high point of his month. Probably of the last several months. When he looked at her heart-shaped ass, he remembered the firm shape of it on his arms. An invisible string of red-hot need ran directly from her to his crotch. A different kind of hunger replaced his anticipation of lunch. Following an impulse
, he changed his route to intersect with the umbrella she was in the midst of resetting.
“Hey there.” Coop bumped her with his elbow. Meant to be a friendly tap, it lurched her against the pole and flopped the bright red canvas to the ground. Damn. A monosyllabic pick-up line and a downed umbrella. Way to make a good impression on the beautiful woman, Hudson. He dropped his lunch and lunged for the pole. Their hands met on the smooth plastic shaft. A dozen ideas flew through Coop’s head. The kind of ideas he shouldn’t be having after talking to her for a whopping five minutes. Dark, steamy ideas that hardened his dick to roughly the same tensile strength as the pole between them.
“Hi. I didn’t expect to see you again.” At least she looked happy about it, with a wide, welcoming smile blooming across her cheeks.
“What am I? A real-life Superman, only appearing when a beautiful woman is in need of rescue?”
“Sort of.” She gave him a quick once over from head to toe. Then her gaze briefly swung back to his crotch, and her eyes widened. Damn. No way to hide an erection on the beach. But at least a smile curved her lips when her gaze finally swung back up to his. “Have to admit, I prefer your beachy uniform of no shirt and swim trunks to a cape and tights.”
Yup. She’d checked him out. And her hand still gripped his on the pole. That all added up to one hundred percent attraction, on both sides. He may have flubbed serving up the flirt, but Darcy lobbed it right back in an easy volley. Game on! Lunch could wait.
“Let me anchor this for you.” Cooper dropped to a squat. “There’s a trick to it you wouldn’t know, what with you being so unfamiliar with sand.” He began to drill the pole down in a wide, circular motion.
Darcy brushed off her hands and knelt on her towel. “I’m only a newbie when it comes to the ocean. I’m very, very familiar with sand.”
At the apex of each circle as he leaned close to her, Coop caught a whiff of coconut and vanilla, hanging like a piña colada cloud. It made him want to lap at her skin and find out if she tasted as good as she smelled. Probably a good idea, though, to start with at least a few minutes of small talk before nuzzling her neck.
“What’s with you and sand?”
“Professional hazard. I’m a cultural anthropologist. I just finished an eight-month stint in Africa to wrap up my dissertation. Comparing nomadic tribes in different regions, specifically the Fulani and Tuareg.” She looked over both shoulders, then cupped her hand to the side of her mouth as if sharing a secret. “I really hate the desert. There’s no water there.”
Funny girl. And smart, with a dissertation under her belt. Coop liked smart girls—they were more likely to get his jokes on the first try. “I think that’s the main requirement of a desert.”
“Sure, on paper. But do you know how hard it is to concentrate when all you can do is count the months until your next shower? I go to sleep parched and hot, and then wake up the next morning the same way. Spend every night dreaming about ice cubes. I ask you, is that any way to live?”
“Sounds like you’re in the wrong business.”
She rolled her bright red lips together into a firm line, then winced. “It does, doesn’t it?”
His personal version of cock-blocking vibrated against his thigh. The notes pealing out of his smart phone were high pitched and tuneless, since his niece had chosen the latest boy band chart-topper as her personalized ring tone. Coop had lots of practice at sloughing off the adults in his family. But he couldn’t do it to a sweet-as-a-sno-cone thirteen-year-old. So he hit the speaker button.
“Hey, Ellie. How’s my favorite niece?”
Giggles erupted, as light as bubbles floating across a hot tub, and cute enough to tease an answering smile out of Darcy. “Am I really your favorite, Uncle Coop?”
“You will be if you keep this conversation super short.” He mouthed sorry to Darcy. Waving off his apology, she sat down on blue-and-white-striped beach towel. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know. Mom told me to call and check on you.”
No surprise there. Assorted members of his family made up any excuse to call almost hourly. Big Ben’s bells had nothing on the clockworklike regularity of his prying, nagging, loving family. “You’re coming to the beach for the Fourth of July, right?”
“Of course. It’s the best place for fireworks.”
“Then you can check me yourself when you’re here. Love you, squirt.” He ended the call before his sister Celia could start hissing bullet points for their conversation at her daughter. The basic message he conveyed should be enough: he was fine, and they could see for themselves when the entire family descended for the holiday. The chance of his message putting an end to the constant calls? About as likely as a killer whale swimming right up to shore, balancing on its tail and waving at the crowd with its front fin.
“Sorry about that.” He finished mounding a pyramid of sand to stabilize the umbrella. “I try to always take her calls. I want her to know she’s a top priority.”
“She must feel very loved.” There was a wistful quality to her voice. Darcy stared at a point over his shoulder. Probably the ocean. Nothing else that direction til you hit the horizon—and the view didn’t change for another twenty-two hundred miles until you hit Portugal.
Coop snorted as he dropped to his knees. “I doubt it. Not now, anyway—she’s still young enough to believe everybody should love her, no matter what. I give it about a decade before Ellie realizes how lucky she is to be a part of this family.”
“My parents are usually with someone more important when I call. Or at least someone with more initials after their name. They end up texting me back. Eventually.”
They sounded like pretentious douchebags. But bad-mouthing the parents was a big no-no in the Flirting 101 handbook. After dusting the sand off his hands, Cooper gave a quick, casual stroke to her arm. And scrambled like hell to think of an excuse to linger on her silky skin. “Well, it can be different with adults.”
“No, it’s pretty much always been that way. My parents are fascinated by two things: the ancient world, and advancing their careers. Now that I’m a freshly minted PhD, though, suddenly I’m worth their time. They’ve called six times since graduation day in May. Didn’t have time in their schedules to make the actual ceremony, of course.” Her clenched jaw looked more resigned than sad.
Coop talked to his mom every single day. Always had. Not that he was a momma’s boy. All five of his sisters also checked in with her on a daily basis. They were simply a genuinely tight family, wanted to share the minutiae of life’s highs and lows with each other. He imagined that not having that sort of support system would be very lonely. “How’s it feel to have the parental spotlight shining on you?”
“Weird. Lots of talk about my potential, my career, and how my choices will affect their lives. The last time they paid this much attention was when I chose a college. Feels like they’re having conversations with my degree, not with me.” Darcy dropped her head to her knees. Her shimmering dark hair cloaked her face—and her emotions—from Coop. “God, I’m so embarrassed. I’m spewing my messy life at you like you’re a shrink.”
“Well, it’s not leather, but you’re welcome to come over and lie down on my couch anytime.”
Her head popped off her knees with the approximate speed of a bottle rocket. For a moment, Coop worried he’d gone too far, too fast. Then she blinked at him, and dissolved into rolling laughter. Hmm. On one hand, laughter was better than getting a slap across the face. Plus, Darcy looked adorable with her cute little nose scrunched up. But laughter didn’t exactly translate to her taking him up on his suggestion, either. Even if he had been mostly kidding.
“Nice offer. But you’re not really a therapist, are you? I mean, I don’t expect you to fix me.”
She’d just handed him a foolproof way to duck the question about his job, and serve up a compliment. If
Coop did manage to wheedle a date out of her, he’d have to reveal his career clusterfuck eventually. No reason he couldn’t avoid it as long as possible, though.
“From where I sit, nothing needs fixing.” Those weren’t glib words he tossed out. Darcy Trent was gorgeous, from her lustrous brown locks down to the sassy red polish on her toe nails. He’d swim straight through a riptide for the chance to have that sable softness lying across his chest.
“Oh.” The laughter disappeared from her voice. Something earthier, more sultry crept into its place. “Thank you.”
Okay. Coop whipped out a mental checklist. They’d flirted. They’d casually touched. Even gotten a little personal. Best of all, she seemed to really get his sense of humor. His sisters never tired of informing Coop that his deadpan delivery was an acquired taste. Darcy was primed and ready for him to make his move.
“Are you here at the beach all week? All summer?”
“Just for the week. I’m afraid the concept of a vacation that lasts all summer is finally a thing of the past now that I’ll be earning a paycheck.”
“You just graduated and got a job already? Congratulations!”
She tilted her hand back and forth. “Sort of. I’ve got a really great job offer. And less than a week to decide if I should accept it.”
These days, with the crappy economy and almost non-existent job market, most people looked at employment with the bird-in-the-hand approach. Better to nab one immediately than eat ramen noodles while spending six months searching for something perfect. It didn’t take his considerable deductive skills to figure out there was more to Darcy’s story. “Want to tell me about it? The doctor’s still in,” he joked, crossing his legs at the ankle and leaning back on his fists.
“Why? So you can be completely convinced that I’m nuts?” The defiant toss to her head didn’t mask the faint tremble in her voice.
Love at High Tide Page 2
