Love at High Tide

by Christi Barth

  Darcy moistened her lips, looked at her lap, then finally blurted out, “I’ve been offered a full-time spot on the research team I interned with for my dissertation. It would mean moving to Africa for at least the next year, if not longer.”

  His mouth quirked up at the corners. “Thought you hated the desert?”

  “Hence the ‘probably’ riding the coattails of my full disclosure.”

  Crap, she was serious. “Um, this job sounds right up your alley. Aside from the location. Congratulations, I guess.”

  “I guess,” Darcy echoed softly. Her hands moved restlessly up and down her thighs. “Too bad I’m not interested in it at all. My parents and my advisor practically have my bags packed already. And nobody else is lining up to nab me. I’d be stupid to turn it down.”

  “Not stupid.” If there was one thing he knew about this woman besides the fact she turned him into a human inferno, it was that she had a quick and facile mind. “Walking away from a sure thing takes a huge amount of guts. Brave, but definitely not stupid.”

  “Thank you.” That full, kiss-reddened lower lip quivered up into a smile. The sight of it pulled his lust straight to the front of his thoughts. Continuing to ignore it would be tough. Coop confronted the problem head-on.

  “So if you’re not packing or hopping on a plane tonight, why’d you slam on the brakes?”

  “Because you’re an amazing kisser.”

  “Trust me, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

  “I’m sure. But I didn’t want to lead you on under false pretenses. You see, the Africa job is why I’m here. I have to let them know my decision within three days. This trip is supposed to be a chance for me to not just relax, but figure out if I want to take it. Or, stay here with no immediate job prospects, and no place to crash except for Trina’s spare bedroom.”

  “Those are some tough issues.” And a welcome change from incessantly mulling over his own career problems. “I’m happy to help you talk through all the pros and cons, if you want. However, there’s no reason why we can’t sandwich that talk between lots of kissing.”

  “Really?”

  “Darcy, you’re fun to be with, beautiful, and you push every one of my buttons. In a good way. I’d be an idiot to walk away just because you can’t promise me more than a week.”

  “You want me for the whole week, huh?” she teased.

  He captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I want you. Period.”

  The whoosh of Trina opening the sliding door separated them once again. She hung the upper half of her body onto the deck. “Sorry, but I can’t get one of my bedroom windows to lock. No way are we going to sleep until we’re locked down tighter than a submarine prepping for a dive.”

  “Must be my cue to leave.” He paused. “Do you want me to make a sweep of the place before I go? Give you the official stamp of police department security approval on your window locks?”

  “No. Thanks, but I think that might freak Trina out even more. Her window just takes an extra jiggle and a thump to lock.”

  Coop dropped a final, feathery kiss on Darcy’s lips. “I’ll see you on the beach tomorrow.”

  “I’m really glad your cousin fell asleep,” said Darcy.

  He agreed. Hell, their private makeout session on the deck got a lot wilder than they could’ve in public at Fager’s. Maybe Brad didn’t owe him after all. Maybe Coop owed his cousin a full pancake breakfast of gratitude tomorrow.

  Chapter Six

  “Thanks for staking out our spot,” Trina said. She lumbered up beside Darcy carrying three shopping bags, her beach tote, and holding her hat to her chest with her chin. Today’s suit was a combination of bright lemon swim shorts, and a white and yellow polka dot bikini top. “I’m glad you didn’t wait for me. Being early is the only way to nab the prime beachfront real estate. I hate being stuck behind rows and rows of people. There’s only so much hot sand you can run across to get to get to the water before the bottoms of your feet start to burn.”

  “How come the girl who wouldn’t go to the bathroom alone last night crept out of the apartment without waking me up?” Darcy rose to her knees on her towel striped in three shades of green. She’d been mildly alarmed to find Trina absent this morning. The cryptic note crinkled beneath a bag of bagels said simply stuff to do—back later. Hard to tell what sort of trouble Trina was stirring up on her own.

  “Figured you were dreaming of dreamy cop Coop. Didn’t want to wake you up in the middle of something, you know, hot.”

  “Very thoughtful, but unnecessary.” She’d stayed awake, tossing and turning, replaying the kiss in her mind over and over again. Wondering what would happen next time. By the time she’d finally dropped off around three-thirty, Darcy had been far too exhausted to dream. No need to tell Trina, though.

  “Besides, it’s silly to be nervous in broad daylight. I can’t be a scaredy cat if I’m going to be a good investigator. So last night was my one and only case of nerves. From now on, I’m steady as a rock. See?” She dropped her bags at the base of the umbrella, extending a pale hand tipped with neon green fingernails.

  “I’m glad you’re not scared anymore.” Darcy didn’t want a repeat of the 3:00 a.m. knock on the door with Trina’s plea to be her bathroom buddy. “But didn’t you hear Coop tell you to let this whole Ivan thing drop?”

  “Of course I did. Doesn’t mean I’ll let him railroad me into stopping. Police are often the last to get on board with an investigation. Says so right here.” She whipped out a paperback emblazoned with I Spy A Brand New P.I. across the cover. The words were embossed onto a picture of yellow and black crime scene tape. Darcy didn’t see it as a good omen.

  “Oh, Trina.” She sighed. How to stop this without squashing her friend’s spirit in the process?

  Trina plopped onto the towel Darcy had laid out for her hours before. “If Coop’s right, Ivan isn’t dangerous. This is just a training case. There’s a chance we’ll tail Ivan all week and not learn anything. There’s also a chance we’ll find out what deep, dark secret he’s hiding. Either way, I’ll be one big step closer to being an investigator.”

  Of all the problems with Trina’s logic, Darcy honed in on the most immediate. Or at least, the most personal. “Wait, did you say we?”

  “You’re the one who pushed the whole safety in numbers thing. If I let you tag along, you won’t worry about me.”

  Well, if Trina wanted to split hairs, Darcy would be worrying about both of them. “We shouldn’t even so much as glance at Ivan any more. He’s seen us now. We’ve already made him nervous. And annoyed.”

  “I’ve got that covered.” Trina rattled the bags. “I stocked up on supplies. Three wigs, two hats, assorted sunglasses, and four different shirts. An extra battery for my phone, so we can research on the move and always have its flashlight beam at the ready. A magnifying glass for when we do find clues. And pepper spray in case he chases us again.”

  Darcy fell backward onto her towel. Then she rested her arm against her eyes, hoping it would blot out the image of her klutzy, accident-prone friend carrying something that volatile. Might as well pop the pin out of a grenade and hand it to a puppy to use as a chew toy. “I don’t want to participate in anything so dangerous it requires me to carry pepper spray.”

  “Well, if you believe Coop, it isn’t dangerous. Consider it me being over-prepared.”

  “Driving around with two umbrellas in your car is over-prepared. Carrying pepper spray will just lure danger to us like a magnet.” Trina had an uncanny knack for attracting trouble on her best days. She was always the one—the only one—who got caught ditching class. Or decorating the principal’s house with toilet paper. At Darcy’s college graduation, Trina had managed to lob a beach ball directly at the speaker’s podium. It knocked off and broke the chancellor’s glasses. On the
bright side, it had cut his speech mercifully short.

  “Don’t be silly,” Trina scoffed. “It’s a concealed weapon, not a cursed amulet.”

  Darcy rolled onto her stomach. The crashing waves created a steady drone like that of a plane passing overhead, but repeating every five seconds. She turned her head to the side and opened her eyes. “That doesn’t make me feel even an iota better.”

  “Then I’ll carry both of them. You’ll just have to stick close to me.”

  “Tell me one thing, before I embark again down this path.” She picked up the paperback and lightly whapped it against Trina’s knees. “Have you read the book?”

  “Cover to cover. Dog-eared important pages, highlighted things, the whole shebang.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Fine.” Trina squirmed a bit, looking all around her. Finally she pointed down a few groups. “See that woman smiling at her grandkids?”

  The woman beaming at three toddlers banging shovels at the sand was easy to spot. She wore a hot pink visor with the elaborate white logo of the Ritz-Carlton. A white canvas tote tricked out with the same logo in gold rested at her feet. Matching gold sandals gave her the look of someone late for bridge at the club.

  “What about her?”

  “Investigating is all about being observant, and applying logic to said observations. Using Occam’s Razor. You know, how the simplest explanation is usually the right one.”

  “Oh, I know what it is. I didn’t realize you knew about it.”

  Trina rolled her eyes. “I told you I read the book. So here’s what I think about that woman. We’ll call her Sandra.”

  “Are you going to name everyone at the beach by the time we leave?”

  “Just the ones I want to talk about. Now I think she doesn’t travel much, beyond coming to the beach every year. Her umbrella and chair are faded, which means she’s been here before. If Sandra traveled all the time, she wouldn’t be all tricked out in the Ritz gear. She’d take it for granted. Judging from her wrinkles, I’d say her husband probably took her to one for her 50th birthday, and she’s very proud of it.”

  Darcy jolted upright. “You used deductive reasoning to make an extremely logical assumption. I’m astounded.”

  “You said the same thing when I sent you the picture of the haircut I gave my father.”

  “Well, it was surprisingly good. Even on the sides, with trimmed sideburns.”

  “I don’t quit all these jobs because I’m bad at them.” A rarely heard tone of somberness deepened Trina’s words. “I move on because I’m looking for something that really gets its hooks into me. Trust me, I’m ready for this.”

  After that, what choice did Darcy have but to fall in line? And, yet again, be grateful for the complex mish mash of beautiful qualities that made up her best friend. “Okay. I’ll partner up with you. As long as I get first choice of wigs.”

  “Great!” The exuberant Trina that Darcy was used to re-emerged, bouncing on her knees as she pulled out all her purchases. “Besides, it’ll be a good distraction from everything else you have to worry about.”

  “I’m not worried about anything.” Darcy worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m mulling my options. I’m pondering. There’s a difference.”

  “You’re dithering. You’re stalling,” Trina said in a sing-song voice.

  “I’ve got three whole days before I have to decide the rest of my life. I’m utilizing my entire decision-making window.”

  In response, Trina blew and loud, very wet raspberry. “Fancy, PhD talk for waffling.”

  “How did you know we had waffles for breakfast?” Coop wandered up to their patch of sand. Darcy first noticed that again he was shirtless. His turquoise board shorts dipped low on his hips, showcasing the dark trail of hair that arrowed straight down from his belly button. Wow. She would toss every single book she’d brought to read this week if she could just stare at his abs non-stop for the next five days straight. Then she muted her roiling lust long enough to pick up on the presence of a somewhat shorter, more muscled version ranging next to him.

  “Does your beach house come with its own cook?” she asked.

  The other man snorted. “If it did, the first three waffles wouldn’t have been burned to a crisp.”

  “Ungrateful ass,” Coop muttered. “Ladies, this is my cousin, Bradley Hudson.”

  Brad waved, shirtless as well. His trunks were red, and his biceps were almost twice as big as Coop’s. Was there such a thing as too much eye candy? Trina certainly didn’t seem able to do anything but goggle at him.

  Darcy thrust out her hand. “Darcy Trent. And that’s my friend Trina Trimble.”

  He shook as hard as if he was working an old-fashioned water pump. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You are just the dreamiest thing I’ve ever seen,” murmured Trina.

  “Um, thanks?” Clearly uncomfortable, he scratched the back of his neck. Just as clearly, Coop didn’t bother to hide his smirk. Brad pointed at the pile on the towel. “What’s all this? It’s about four months too early for Halloween.”

  “And forty degrees too hot,” Coop agreed. He stared for another second, then his brow furrowed. Uh oh. Darcy bet Trina was in for a stern lecture. He stirred his finger in a wide circle over the pile on the towel. “Trina, this looks like an attempt at a disguise. Please tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re a man. I’m sure you’re wrong all the time,” she said, tart as a lemon ice.

  Coop and Brad shared a look, the same pained look that men shared worldwide when women pointed out their obvious failings. Darcy had gotten a kick out of seeing her Tuareg tribesmen do it. The women of the tribe had not shared her amusement.

  “Level with me.” Coop dropped to a crouch. Darcy noticed this as it brought his miraculous abs to within inches of her lips. She scooted backward to the edge of the towel. It put a little more space between her and six-plus feet of walking, talking temptation. “Do you plan to continue stalking—because that’s what it is at this point, make no mistake—that poor Russian guy?”

  He’d slapped on his serious cop face, and used a deep, serious voice that probably intimidated confessions out of everyone he dragged into an interrogation room. It sent a thrilled shiver up Darcy’s spine. And yet Trina looked completely unphased. In fact, she rose to her knees to confront Coop nose to nose.

  “Yes, I do plan to use these very clever—” Trina sneered down her nose at him, “—disguises to continue to watch Ivan, and assess his daily interactions. From afar. Far enough he won’t notice or object, anyway.”

  “My cousin here filled me in on what you’ve been up to. Going any further—it’s a bad idea.” Brad, hands fisted on hips, sounded like a dad banning his daughter from going to a party with the cool kids.

  “It isn’t a bad idea,” she insisted. “I’m taking precautions. Trust me, I don’t want to get up close and personal with him. My tiny ass wouldn’t survive one of his ham-fisted squeezes.”

  Coop shut his eyes for a moment. Resignation thinned his lips. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I? Well, don’t do anything stupid. I mean,” he hastily corrected himself, “good luck.”

  Shaking her head till her ponytail whipped her cheeks harder than a jockey going down the stretch, Trina assured, “We’ll be careful, I swear.”

  “Wait. What? We?” One foot slid back under him. Coop landed hard on his hands and knees, planted nose to nose with Darcy. “You’re doing a ride-along?

  His stern attitude was a lot less thrilling when aimed right at Darcy. Coop didn’t lose all his sex appeal. But she noticed it a little bit less, what with the forbidding set to his jaw. “Safety in numbers, right?” How was the cliché so much less convincing now than when she’d spouted it at Trina?

  After giving her another one of those d
ead-calm stares, he eased back. Picked up the blond pageboy wig and dangled it from his hand. And even through her super-dark sunglasses, Darcy caught the naughty twinkle in his eyes. “If I let this drop, are you going to model these for us?”

  Trina snatched it back. “Was that a test or something? Don’t blow our covers before we even get a chance to use them. We’re trying to keep a low profile. The book’s very clear on that.”

  Brad sank to the sand, laughing. “A book? A book on what? How to single-handedly restart the Cold War? Cooper here told me all about your Russian mobster and/or pimp scenario. Why not take it a step further? What if he’s an undercover KGB agent?”

  It took every ounce of self-control Darcy could muster not to grin, even a little. These guys were fun. Maybe the teasing approach would stop Trina from going off half-cocked. Logic certainly hadn’t slowed her down at all. Then again, logic and Trina were like oil and water. Able to mix briefly, but they never remained combined for very long.

  With the back of her hand, Trina sent the paperback flying across the towel towards Brad. “This book makes an even dozen I’ve studied.” Her answer surprised Darcy. Sounded like Trina was taking this stab at investigation much more seriously than her previous approaches to employment. “It’s important to do research when starting a new career. I never jump in blindly.”

  “How often do you do it?”

  Another flip of her hand. “Oh, whenever the mood strikes. If something isn’t fun, I move on. Life’s too short not to have fun every day.”

  Right there, that was another huge reason why Darcy would stop complaining and follow Trina anywhere this week. Her indomitable, sunny spirit never failed to pick Darcy up.

  Brad’s mouth hung open a little. “Seriously? You just abandon careers on a whim?”

  “If I happen across something I think I’ll like better, sure.” Trina shrugged. She supported herself, paid all her bills. Didn’t even need a roommate to help with rent. In fact, Trina took great pride in her independence. So Darcy knew she’d never fully clued in as to why other people were so aghast at her tasting-menu approach to employment. “When I finally find my true calling, I’ll stick. But even then, I’ll have to be sure it doesn’t swallow me up. Fun and friends will still come first. A paycheck can’t compete with that.”