Love on the Boardwalk

by Christi Barth

  “I don’t buy it. You’re a smart ass. The truly desperate ones never sass me.”

  Rats. If she got out of this, that would go down as another mistake never to make again. Do not back talk to criminals. At least not while they had a gun on her.

  “I’m only asking once more. You’ve got to the top of the ride to spill the truth, or I just might spill you over the side.”

  The Steel Pier wasn’t an up-to-date mega theme park. It was old and small, and didn’t even have a turnstile for them to squeeze through. Nope, Ralph just marched her right up to the empty, swaying bucket. The operator had stepped away to flirt with the temporary tattoo airbrusher on the opposite side. By the time he came back, they’d be sitting down and wouldn’t look suspicious at all.

  Trina stumbled on the front of her dress. To think she’d been worried about dancing with Brad. Instead, she’d danced right into a dangerous mess. Tangoed into trouble. Polkaed into a problem. She bit back a giggle that fizzed with far more fear than humor. If Joe was here, he’d probably sigh and tell her that real P.I.s didn’t giggle their way through scary situations.

  That’s when it hit her. Joe’s number two rule—never count on anyone to rescue you but yourself. No more stalling. No panic, no feeling sorry for herself. It was part of the whole package as a junior investigator trainee to get out of whatever mess she happened to stumble into. She had a far better chance down here on the ground than fifty feet in the air. And wasn’t this exactly the kind of moment why she’d gotten all those bruises and endured all that training?

  So Trina stepped into the bucket. When Ralph followed, one foot in and one foot out, she slammed down her heel on his instep. Smashed the heel of her hand up into his nose. Followed that up with a hard knee to his crotch. Just to be safe, she did that one twice. As he dropped to the floor of the bucket, howling, Trina slammed the door.

  It wasn’t enough. The guy still had his gun. Probably. She sure wasn’t going to take that chance. Trina lunged for the control panel. Skidded into place in front of the clutch mechanism. She squeezed the trigger on the long, hip-high lever and hit the power button. With a squeaky wheeze, the giant wheel started turning.

  “Hey! Get away from there!” The gangly operator tried to shove her out of the way.

  Trina glared at him. The killer glare that she leveled at people who used their cell phones during a movie. “I’m not moving until the police get here. You want to be useful? Go call them.” When Ralph’s bucket reached the top, she put on the brake, locking him in place. Noticed that her hand was shaking. And that her knees were about as solid as the awful orange gelatin salad her Great-Aunt Matilda used to bring to Easter dinner.

  She took one step away from the panel. Raised her head to try to suck in some air and saw Brad running hell-for-leather toward her with Coop just a few steps behind and Darcy bringing up the rear. “Oh, don’t bother—they’re here already,” Trina muttered right before sliding in a boneless lump to her knees. Oh, yeah. Sitting down was much better. Just for a couple of seconds while she processed the whole almost shot by a bad guy scenario. Joe hadn’t gotten around yet to schooling her on the official investigator reaction to being held up at gunpoint.

  “Trina! Are you okay?” Brad crouched to gather her into a rough hug, spilling kisses all over the top of her head. Coop knelt by her side, carefully running his hands over her limbs.

  “Don’t try to cop a feel, Detective Hudson. I’m fine. Well, I didn’t so much stick the landing, but the whole rest of my self-defense routine was picture perfect. I’ve got witnesses.” She pointed at the ride operator. “But I sure could use your handcuffs. Not the fun ones. The real deal. I’ve got an armed perp locked up.”

  “Where?”

  “Up, I said.” And she pointed to the top of the Ferris wheel before giving in to the delayed fear and throwing her arms around Brad’s neck. A good junior investigative trainee knew exactly when to hand everything over to the pros.

  * * *

  Trina dug her toes into the cool sand beneath the Steel Pier. It felt great after standing on the cement above them talking to the police for three hours. “Do you think they’ll give me an award? I wouldn’t mind a shiny medal on a ribbon to pin onto the bulletin board above my desk.”

  Brad tossed his shoes down next to hers. “That’s why you’re in the P.I. biz? For the glory?”

  “Well, it isn’t for the money. I cracked a credit card fraud ring involving three strip clubs, and still don’t have a client to bill for all my toasted coconut chocolate lattes.”

  “True.” He took her hand and walked them closer to the dark water. “But I have heard of cases where the credit card companies pay out a reward. That ought to be enough to keep you in coffee drinks for a while.”

  For a split second, Trina wondered if the Mob and Big Nicky would be grateful enough to pony up a reward, too. Not that she’d accept it. That’d be a mistake not even worth learning from once. But it’d be fun to graciously turn down their offer.

  “I did get to keep all my tips from waitressing. That’ll cover gas money to get me back home, at least.”

  Brad’s hand tightened on hers. A real knuckle-cruncher. “Is that where you’re headed? Back to Baltimore? Or do you head north from here?”

  Well, that was all kinds of adorable. Her big, hot hunk of a cop was trying to grill her on their future. “I hope you’re more subtle when you’re questioning suspects.”

  He looked straight ahead at the frothing waves crashing onto shore. In a low, thick voice Brad said, “Depends on how badly I need an answer.”

  Trina’s heart triple thumped. When her laid-back cop turned serious and intense, it was intensely sexy. “Here’s the thing—I’ve been a big old chicken.”

  “With almost no training you just took down an armed felon. There’s not a chicken bone in your body.”

  “I was plenty scared,” she corrected him with a shudder of remembrance. “But I didn’t let the fear stop me. And I can’t let fear make up my mind for me about what comes next. Being scared of a couple of months of college courses? Worried that I’ll get bored of stability? That’s no way to determine what my career will be. This case, the thrill of solving it all by myself, made up my mind. I’m going to take the classes and get my P.I. license.”

  “Really?”

  Insecurity tugged at her. Probably because she was still a little shaky and emotional. Or because the flat tone of that one word didn’t give away how he felt about her decision. “Do you think I’m not ready? Or not smart enough for it?”

  “Stop that.” Brad moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You just found and solved your first solo case. You’re plenty smart. As long as you go home every night with a smile on your face, I’m good. Be whatever you want. An astronaut. An alfalfa farmer. Or even a private eye.”

  Trina tipped her head back to rest against the broad wall of his chest. It felt...right. As though she belonged, nestled there. Suddenly she could picture them back home, standing just like this at a Halloween party, or a big family dinner. Even standing in line at the movies. And she wanted that vision to turn into reality.

  “I know there will be plenty of long, boring stakeouts and even more boring paperwork. But I also know there’s enough variety in investigation to more than keep me interested. Although I could do with fewer brushes with death in the future.”

  His arms tightened as he leaned down to nuzzle her neck. “Me, too.”

  “I like figuring out people. It’s always been one of my passions. I can still fit my passion for fashion in, too.” She couldn’t wait to sketch out a handful of standard disguises to keep in her trunk.

  Brad’s hot breath warmed her ear. “Any chance you can find the time to squeeze one more passion into your life?”

  Maybe a shiny medal wasn’t the best souvenir she’d take home
from this trip to the Boardwalk. Trying to sound oh-so-casual, when in reality her heart was tap-dancing, Trina asked, “Got something specific in mind?”

  He circled around to stand in front of her. Dropped his arms to his sides. “Me.”

  Yes! Trina wanted to jump on him. Or do the happy booty-shake and make Brad join in. But curiosity poked at her. What would he say? How would he convince her if he didn’t know she was already a slam dunk straight into his heart? “Go on.”

  He tried to jam his hands into pockets that simply didn’t exist in those tight dance pants that hugged his ass so well. When that didn’t work, Brad grabbed her hands to pull her toe-to-toe. “Dana did me a favor by dumping me. It made me realize that a solid relationship isn’t about sharing one part of myself—it’s about two people sharing everything with each other. Sharing the fun and the mundane. Sharing the worry and excitement of similar careers. I want to do that with you, Trina.”

  The only thing that could make this moment more perfect was if it wasn’t so dark. She wanted to see his eyes. When they made love, they turned an almost navy blue with intensity. Trina was guessing they’d just turned that color again. She raised her voice a little to be sure he didn’t miss a word over the pounding surf. “I like everything we’ve shared so far. And I’m pretty darn passionate about wanting to see what else we can share, too.”

  His white smile flashing was visible. “So you’re really not moving to Annapolis?”

  “Nope.” She stood on tiptoe to rub up against him, hands planted firmly on his ass. “Want to give me a reward for staying?”

  “Depends. Is committing to a serious boyfriend on top of a lifelong career too much boring stability all at once for you?”

  “I bet that being with you will be way too exhilarating to ever be considered boring. You know what? I promise to do my fair share of whatever it takes to keep things spontaneous. Starting right now.”

  Trina peeled the straps down her arm and shimmied out of her dress. Brad hooted in delight. Whipped his shirt off over his head without bothering to waste any time unbuttoning it. As soon as his pants were unzipped, and in only her underwear, she ran across the hard-packed sand. Brad caught up before she hit the surf. Now that they were out from under the pier, the moon haloed his hair and she could see the joy sparking out of his eyes as he grinned back at her. It was the twin of the grin she felt threatening to crack her face right in half with happiness. Might as well start this thing with as much fun as they planned to keep having in the future. So hand in hand, they plunged into the cool, frothing waves.

  Three Months Later

  “I know we rented this cabin just so we could sit in the hot tub and toast at midnight, but how about we do it in front of the fireplace, instead?” Trina put her face against the window. Pulled back just enough to breathe a foggy circle onto it, then drew a heart with B + T inside. “It looks cold out there.”

  “That’s the sort of crack investigator Joe’s turning you into? Foot and a half of snow on the ground, and you think it just looks cold?” Coop ruffled her hair as he walked by.

  He’d only beaten Brad to the joke by a second. Probably for the best, though. That kind of teasing went over better coming from a friend than a boyfriend. At least, if that boyfriend wanted to have hot vacation sex in a couple of hours.

  “Hey, keep your hands on your own woman,” Brad said as he moved to stand behind Trina. Circled her waist—what he could feel of it through the layers of turtleneck and black sweatshirt with Happy New Year! picked out in silver sequins—with his hands as they stared out, past the steaming hot tub at the snowpack covering Deep Creek Lake. There were lights in a few other cabins across the wide expanse, but mostly it was burnished with a pearly glow of moonlight reflecting off the frozen-over lake.

  “Can’t. I’m not allowed within six feet of Darcy as long as she’s got that laptop open.” Coop rolled his eyes.

  From across the room, Darcy piped up. She had her feet tucked under a fleece blanket on the couch. “It’d doom our whole marriage if you glimpsed my wedding dress ahead of time. Do you really want that onus on your shoulders?”

  “Of course not.” Another eye roll.

  Brad felt for the guy. Didn’t know how he stood it. Brad sure couldn’t keep more than a foot away from Trina. She was a hugger. A squeezer. And although he’d never been the PDA type in the past, now he loved it. Loved that she couldn’t keep from holding his hand, or kissing him in the middle of a restaurant. It was contagious. The more time Brad spent with her, the more he couldn’t resist stroking her hair, or tucking her beneath his arm in line for the movies.

  Trina ran a hand up and down the sleeve of Brad’s thick fisherman sweater. “Never knew you were so superstitious, Darcy.”

  “I’m not superstitious. I just don’t want to tempt fate. This marriage is going to last forever. No matter what I have to do.”

  Tugging on Brad, Trina turned them away from the window to face the rest of the interior of the log cabin. “Funny you should put it that way. As maid of honor, I’ve been studying up.”

  “You hate to study.”

  “That’s how much I love you. Plus, I’m considering it a way to get my mental muscles back in shape before my P.I. course starts next week. Anyway, did you know that it’s good luck to discover a spider in your wedding dress? I can totally make that happen.”

  Brad smothered his laugh against Trina’s neck. Her no-holds-barred approach to, well, everything cracked him up on a daily basis. And he had no doubt that if Darcy gave the greenlight, come next May, Trina would trap a spider and gently insert it into the folds of the wedding dress. Maybe even two. His girl didn’t do anything by halves.

  After a slow head swivel, Darcy glared daggers at her best friend. “You do that, and I won’t let you dance with the best man at the reception. Rumor has it that he’s super hot, too.”

  Brad appreciated the compliment. Not that he’d ever fall in line with her threat. He and Trina had joined a swing dance club. They had a great time hitting the floor together, and were headed to an amateur competition up in Hershey over Valentine’s Day. “You’re really firing the big guns, aren’t you?”

  “Fine. If you don’t want the spider, there are other options. We can have a cat eat out of your left shoe a week before the wedding. That’ll bring good luck.”

  “You made that up.”

  “Nope. I’m telling you, there’s all sorts of wacky wedding stuff on the Internet.”

  “And that’s where it should stay.” Darcy crooked her finger in invitation. “How about I bribe you to not tell me any more of that weirdness? Want to see your dress?”

  Trina threw herself out of Brad’s arms and hurried to join Darcy beneath the blanket on the dark leather sofa. Good to know he rated just a little below a clothing website. “So you finally decided on your wedding color?”

  “Blue, to match the ocean where we met.”

  “Where I saved you,” Coop corrected.

  “Are you ever going to let me live that down?” The indulgent smile balanced the annoyance in her voice.

  “Check back with me in sixty or so years.”

  Turning back to Trina, Darcy pointed at something on the screen. “We’re going with a whole beach theme.”

  Coop elbowed Brad in the ribs as he passed him a beer. “When you two get married, does that mean you’ll go with a strip club theme? Instead of black tie, the invites could read panties optional?” He hugged his midriff as he laughed. “If so, I’m gonna pass right now on being best man. I don’t want to wear a banana hammock in front of our parents.”

  “We don’t talk about getting married,” Trina said.

  Oh, great. She was going to spill the pact they’d made. And now he’d be the one getting shit for being superstitious.

  “Really? Not at all?” Coop kicked back in the reclin
er by the fire. “What’s the holdup?”

  Never, in a million years, did Brad think his cousin would throw him under the bus like that. “Dude, it’s only been three months. Just because you’re engaged doesn’t mean the rest of the world has to hop to it.”

  “But you guys look disgustingly happy together. You even give me and Darcy a run for the money.”

  “Brad doesn’t want to mention marriage until the anniversary of his last engagement passes. Which I’m totally behind,” Trina hastened to add.

  “I screwed up the whole engagement thing once already,” Brad pointed out. “Did it at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons. Feels safer to let that get in the rear-view mirror.” He’d planned to wait until midnight to make his big move. But now that Coop had brought up the issue of their relationship, Brad didn’t want to leave any uncertainty in Trina’s mind. In a couple of long strides, he made it to the breakfast bar of the kitchen, and retrieved the box he’d hidden behind a plaque of a clay, cartoonish trout. He shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans.

  “That’s a very sensible approach. And, might I point out, just a little superstitious,” said Darcy with a waggle of her eyebrows.

  “Whatever. I’ve got a work-around.” Brad sat on the other end of the sofa and pulled Trina into his lap. “Because I am crazy about you, you know.”

  She patted his cheek. “Silly. I know that. The feeling’s mutual.”

  “Okay, but I’m going to up the ante.” He sandwiched her small, soft hands between his and breathed a silent prayer to Lady Luck. The two of them never got around to throwing any dice over that crazy weekend in Atlantic City, but he was going to make up for it tonight with an enormous gamble.

  Trina gave a pretend shiver. “If this is your way of hinting that you want to play strip poker later, I’m going to have to remind you how cold it is. How about some Monopoly instead? Fair warning—I get greedy for all those little plastic houses.”

  “Funny you should mention houses. Because that’s what I want to talk to you about.” He reached back, pulled out the box and handed it to her. “I miss you every night we don’t spend together. I love how your laughter echoes up through all three floors of my rowhome. It’s drafty and old, but I’m there, so I hope that balances things out.”