by Krista Lakes
"I'll keep it quiet. You said the county jail in Winchester, right?" I closed my eyes, trying to figure out how to get there without anyone noticing.
"Yeah. I know you'll worry about this if I don't tell you. The sheriff hasn't told anyone I'm here yet, so you don't have to worry about that. He said he'd keep it quiet until you got here. The girl I hit is at Mercy Hospital." Robbie's voice somehow sounded more dejected. "And the girl... I hit Sam, Rachel."
"Sam? Samantha Conner?" I opened my eyes as another shock hit me. This was going to be a rough afternoon.
"Yeah. Will you check on her?" Robbie asked. He sounded devastated. Samantha had been his best friend until she moved away when he was thirteen. He had been heartbroken when she left. I had lost track of her, but he had obviously found her again. Unfortunately, it was with his boat.
"Of course I will. I'll be there in a couple hours, all right?"
"Yeah. I'm really sorry about this, Rachel." He somehow managed to sound even more forlorn.
I sighed. "I know, Robbie. And I want you to know that I'm pissed. I'm coming to get you, but I am not pleased." Even through the phone, I could hear him shrink. I was one of the few people whose opinion mattered to him.
"Thank you, Rachel. I really mean it. I don't know what I'd do without you," he said. His voice was quiet.
"I'll be there soon." I hung up the phone and pressed my palms into my eyes. This was not what I needed today. What I needed today was a massage and a glass of wine.
"Who's in jail?" Dean asked, sliding into the seat next to me. He set his glass down with a quiet click on the table. I glanced over, his blue eyes full of concern.
"Robbie. He was sailing drunk. I have to go bail him out," I answered. I folded my hands under my chin, looking out at the leaves and trying to think. I had to go get him without raising suspicion. I knew Emma would cover for me but that Jack would be furious if he found out. There was no way I was going to let Daniel know, though.
"I'll go get the car." Dean stood smoothly, picking up his glass and heading toward the sink.
"What makes you think you are coming? Robbie asked me to come get him. And... and you're supposed to be watching Emma." The idea of being in a car with Dean, alone, for two hours had me simultaneously excited and terrified. I wanted desperately to be alone with him, but frightened of what could happen.
Dean gave me a level look, his blue eyes capturing mine. "You're going to want my help."
"Why? I can drive myself, and I've bailed Robbie out of jail before. This isn't a new thing," I scoffed at him.
He set the glass in the sink and stepped closer to me. He came close enough that I could smell his cologne, his face only inches from mine. My fingers itched to reach out and touch him while my stomach did flips worthy of the Olympics. I had a sudden wish that he would just lean over and kiss me.
"You need me." He gave me one of his crooked smiles. "I know the sheriff in Winchester. He owes me a favor. Wouldn't it be nice if Robbie didn't have this on his record?"
With him this close to me, I was having trouble concentrating. I just wanted to touch him, to kiss him again. Even after all this time, I still dreamt about that last kiss. I needed to focus on something other than his perfect lips. I smoothed the top of my head, making sure it was still in a tight, neat bun. Be professional. You can't have him. He probably doesn't even think of you like that anyway.
"Fine." I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "I'm driving though."
His crooked grin widened to a full out smile, his eyes twinkling. And I'm thinking of kissing him again. This was going to be a long day.
Chapter 6
Two and a half years ago
Bianca Saunders strode toward me with anger flashing in her eyes. I froze in my seat, quickly forgetting the memo I was typing. She should have looked demure in her dress suit, gold flowers shining out happily from a field of silver, but instead, she just looked like an angry bee. I hoped I wasn't the one about to be stung.
"Jack needs a new bodyguard." She threw a newspaper at my chest as she stomped across my office and into the executive lounge, heading toward the coffee pot. She tottered on her golden heels, shaking in her rage and splashing coffee across the counter. Some of the dark liquid spilled on her jacket, and she cursed under her breath as she grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at the silver and gold embroidery.
I fumbled with the newspaper and groaned slightly when I saw the headline. Billionaire's Bodyguard Assaults Photographer blazed out in bold letters across the heading of the page. In a blurry black and white photo, Jack looked on in horror as his bodyguard's massive hand reached for the photographer. Every word in the article made me cringe; the lawsuit from the photographer was going to be huge.
"Jack was caught leaving his girlfriend's, or who I assume is his girlfriend, apartment. Instead of having a car ready, or having Jack go out the back, this buffoon has him walk right out into the photographers and then throws their cameras on the ground. He then punched one of them for asking a question." Bianca pinched her nose with her thumb and forefinger, her brows tightening. "The photographer is already suing. We don't need this kind of publicity. Especially not as we start the process for Jack to take over the company."
The article ended with a question about Daniel's failing heath and the speed at which his son was taking over the company. Jack wasn't supposed to take control of the company for another three years, but it looked like he was going to have to start much earlier. I didn't want to think about the fact that the results from Daniel's biopsy were coming in today. I carefully folded the newspaper back up and tipped it back toward Mrs. Saunders. She waved her hand, dismissing it, so I set it on the desk. The older woman sipped on her coffee, the caffeine seeming to calm her, at least temporarily.
"The current one is just a giant walking slab of meat. He doesn't have a brain in his head, and this latest incident just pushes the point home. This is the third photographer that is suing us this year. At this rate, they'll just start lining up at the front door for us to hand them money." Mrs. Saunders sighed. "At least that would save us the lawyer fees."
"Do you have any preference as to whom we hire? I can ask around the agencies..." I started, already thinking of whom I could call to get a bodyguard with a brain. Bianca's anger disappeared as she realized I was willing to get a new bodyguard. She had been expecting a fight, and now that there wasn't one, she relaxed. I knew Jack liked his current guard, but he needed someone that had a brain to go along with the muscle, and we both knew it.
"No need. I have someone who comes highly recommended." Bianca smiled at her efficiency. I smiled, but inwardly I winced. Bianca, while a shrewd negotiator and intrepid businesswoman, was not known for her hiring skills. She was the one who had hired the current bodyguard, against my recommendation.
"What kind of experience does he have?" I waited, hoping he at least had some.
"He's military trained. War hero with a bronze star. He was working in Hollywood for some actress, but he's available now. He comes with a recommendation."
"That sounds promising," I said slowly. I narrowed my eyes and looked at her. "Why is he available now?"
Bianca blushed slightly and fidgeted with her cup. "Well, he got into some trouble and was fired. But he was fired for protecting his client too well, not for using his giant meat claws. He really does come highly recommended."
"Recommended by whom?"
"The girl's manager, Don Renalds. He hated getting rid of him, but the girl insisted. From everything Don said, this guy will be perfect to keep Jack safe as he takes over the company."
I sighed and chewed on the inside of my lip. I didn't like putting Jack's safety in the hands of a stranger, especially one who was recently fired. The Saunders were the closest thing I had left to family, and I would be damned to see Jack under-protected.
"What did he do to get fired? Details, please."
Bianca gave me a confident smile. "The girl has a substance abuse problem, and he was keepi
ng her dealers away."
"I can see why she would fire him and her manager want to keep him." I sighed and pushed my hands together, trying to think. I had met Don a couple of times, and he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.
"I know you don't like it when I jump into Jack's personal matters," Bianca said, setting the cup of coffee down behind her. She put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. "This man is available now. Hire him. If he doesn't work out, it will give us enough time to find a replacement, but at least it will be better than what Jack has now. Please, Rachel?"
"Fine. I'll give him an interview. If I don't like him, I'm not hiring, though." I gave her a serious look. Mrs. Saunders picked up her coffee and beamed at me. She was back to being a peaceful gold and silver meadow.
"I wouldn't expect anything else. I think you'll end up loving him." She smiled, pulled a card out of a pocket, and handed it to me.
I read the small embossed name on the card, and my heart stopped. Dean Sherman.
"Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost," Mrs. Saunders asked, looking concerned. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.
"No, I'm fine. I just remembered something is all. I'll set up an interview right away." I hoped she couldn't hear the tremor in my voice. I hadn't seen him in over twenty years, but just reading his name brought back the memories of him as though it was just yesterday.
Mrs. Saunders nodded and began walking out the door. I stared at the card in my hand for a full five minutes before working up the courage to call the number and make an appointment.
Chapter 7
June 6th, 1990
I woke up nestled on Dean's arm, using it as a pillow. We were still in more or less the same spot that we had had sex in a few hours before. He was snoring softly, which was really cute. I looked at my watch and found that it was still really early. My head was swimming a little bit and I really had to go to the bathroom. I didn't want to wake Dean, so I tried to sneak out of the bed. However, my hair must have tickled his arm, because his arm shot out and grabbed mine. He took me by surprise, and I squealed a little bit. He laughed.
"Where do you think you're going? We're supposed to go surfing," he said, obviously still half asleep. He blinked, then let go of my arm. His eyes focused, and he looked me up and down. I blushed. The sun's light was much more illuminating than the moon's, and I realized that he was drinking in his first clear sight of my naked body. This man was a stranger, and suddenly I felt extremely self conscious. I pulled the sheet from the bed up to my body, covering my breasts.
He smiled at me. For a moment I thought he was going to pull me back into his bed. Instead, he jumped out on the other side. Last night hadn't been a dream—his muscular ass was as hot now as it had been the night before. I dropped the sheet, partly in surprise. Everything about his body screamed physical fitness.
Still, I didn't want to get too awestruck. He had seemed charming and intelligent last night, but that could have been the alcohol talking.
"I should probably get back to my place," I said. He looked at me like he was hurt for a moment, and I realized that he really wanted to take me surfing. "I have to get my bathing suit," I continued.
He relaxed and smiled. "Yeah, absolutely. I don't think my spare would fit on you too well." He fished out a pair of trunks out of an olive duffel bag and threw it on the bed.
"Plus, I'd have to go topless," I added with a laugh. "No way I'm wearing this bra in the water."
He looked me over again. "I wouldn't mind," he said, clearly doing another once-over on me.
I blushed and quickly pulled my clothes on from last night. They smelled like cigarette smoke, even though I didn't even remember anyone smoking near us the night before. Still, I had to get home somehow. Dean watched me the whole time. "I'll be back in half an hour," I said.
"I'll have breakfast ready for you." He gave me a charming smile.
I grinned at his thoughtfulness and walked out his bedroom door. In the front room, I clearly saw the purple and gold top still crumpled on the floor. I looked over and saw Jenny and Matt passed out on the couch together. Jenny was still on top of Matt and practically drooling on him. I thought about waking her up but then remembered how long it would take her to get ready, particularly if she were as hungover as I thought she'd be.
I whistled the whole way back to our little condo. I hadn't had sex in months, and the night before had been the best sex I had since... well, maybe ever. Even with the bruising on my hips and the mild hangover, I felt better than I had in a long time.
I entered the condo, expecting that Kim would be worried sick about the two of us. I came in and smelled eggs cooking immediately. Kim was in the kitchen in her comfy pajamas, humming as she cooked. When she turned around and saw me, she smiled. "Hey, there."
"Hey, yourself," I said.
"You hungry?" she asked.
"No... aren't you wondering where Jenny and I were last night?" I asked.
She shrugged. "Tony saw each of you leave."
I had forgotten all about Tony, and shrieked a little when a masculine voice came from behind me. "It's important to have situational awareness."
There, sitting at the table, was Redshirt, only he wasn't wearing the red shirt anymore. He was just wearing a pair of boxers, comfortable as he could be. Normally I would be pretty worried about such a good-looking guy practically naked at our table, but I had just walked out of a house with his two naked friends.
I giggled. "You startled me!"
He laughed back at me. "Did you girls have a good time?"
"Yes, I had a blast. In fact, I'm meeting Dean right now to go surfing," I said.
Tony looked past me at Kim. "Hey, do you want to go surfing?"
Kim blushed and looked down. "Actually, I was kind of hoping we could stick around here today. Together."
Tony shrugged his shoulders. "That sounds good to me. Let the guys know not to trash it too badly."
I smiled at him. "I thought you loved that place; why aren't you rushing back to it?"
Tony shrugged again. "They don't cook eggs for me there?"
I laughed and went upstairs. I ran a shower and stepped in to rinse off. Without even thinking about it, I wished that Dean was in there with me. I wanted his strong hands on me, touching me and washing me. I smiled to myself at such an intimate a thought.
After I was done, I found the bag with my swimsuits in it. For a moment, I agonized over which to wear, the one-piece or the two-piece. If I wore the two-piece, the top might fall off if I crashed into the water too hard. On the other hand, it was sexier than the one-piece.
You're only young once, I thought. I quickly put on the two-piece bathing suit, slipped a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt over it, and was on my way back to Dean.
Chapter 8
June 6th, 1990
"Okay, now this time I'm going to just give you a little push on the back of the surfboard. Center yourself and get ready."
We were out in the ocean. Dean was taking the time to show me how to surf and it was not going well. As he gave my surfboard a little tap, I found myself staying up on the surfboard for about a half second before crashing into the water again. Oh well, I thought. At least my top is still on.
I came to the surface, sputtering once again. Dean grabbed my hand, steadying me before going after the surfboard. He grabbed it and brought it back to me.
"Quick, get back on the board, I can see a great swell coming," he said, obviously excited.
"You take it." I unlatched the surfboard from my ankle and handed him the strap. Dean had seemed excited about surfing, yet he hadn't even gotten on the board yet.
"Please, just ride this wave. Then you can watch me surf for the rest of the afternoon," he said, pushing the strap away.
I laughed. "Okay." I laid on my stomach, waiting for his signal.
"Okay, on the count of three, stand up. One, two, three!" I felt the push on the back of the surfboard and stood up. The wave began to car
ry me away, and I managed to keep my balance. This is it, I thought. I was actually traveling over the water, standing as the wave behind me pushed me toward the shore.
I screamed a victory scream as I felt the exhilaration overcome me. Then I made the mistake of looking back at Dean. I quickly lost my balance and fell off the board, crashing into the water with an ungraceful somersault. I came to the surface, coughing but cheering too. Dean was there in a minute, holding out his hand for a high five. "You did it!"
I reached out to reciprocate the gesture, then started to go after the board. In a moment, my feet brushed the bottom. We had hit a sand bar, and the water only came up to the middle of my chest. I kept walking toward the shore, but Dean's hand reached out and grabbed me. I stopped to look at him. "What's your hurry?" he asked, wrapping his other hand around my waist.
"But... your surfboard..." I started.
"It'll wash up on shore," he said, then leaned down and kissed me. I quickly lost myself to the kiss, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. His hands went to my sides, pulling me in closer. As we stood there, kissing, another wave crashed against Dean's back. My feet lost their grip on the ocean floor, but Dean stayed steady. I wrapped my legs around his hips. He was a rock that I could cling to, and as another wave hit us, I found myself gripping him even tighter.
The salt water tasted delicious on my lips as the two of us kissed, and I was getting more turned on by the moment. My chest was heaving, and as another wave splashed into us, I held onto him, my breasts pushing against his muscular pectorals. My hands moved down his neck to his back. My nails dug in, grasping for purchase as his hands moved down to my ass.
I broke from the kiss and looked behind me. Anyone on the beach would have to really squint to see us way out here. I turned and faced Dean. His blue eyes looked at me, then looked over the top half of my body hungrily. I smiled as I lifted my bikini top off of my breasts. It still hung off my neck, though. There was no way I was going to let my expensive bathing suit drift off into the ocean, especially knowing that I'd have to make it back to shore to get my shirt on.
