Beachcomber Investigations: A Romantic Detective Series Novel - Book 1
Page 18
“I don’t need a damn ambulance. And if I recall correctly, I’m not part of your department.”
“Outside contractors are covered by the policy as well,” David dismissed him.
Shana felt better. She’d go to the hospital with him.
“I’ll go to the hospital on the island,” Dane said.
“Martha’s Vineyard General?” Cap joked.
“Sounds good to me.” Shana took Dane’s arm and led him to the elevator.
“How are you all getting back to the island?” David asked.
“I’m not going back there,” Acer said. “I spent my time at the beach shack.” He folded his arms. “Nothing personal, demon man, but that place is too crowded for me.”
Shana felt the blush and didn’t blame the poor guy.
“I’ll be getting my own place in short order, Acer. So feel free to come back any time.”
Dane snorted but said nothing as he gave his friend a hug, cautiously, and a fist bump on his back. When he backed up, Dane said, “Stay safe. Stay invisible. And stay in touch.”
Acer nodded. Cap caught the elevator and said, “We’ll be flying in the Statie copter compliments of the governor.”
When she walked into the hospital room, Dane was fully dressed and sitting on top of the covers of the adjustable bed relaxing against the pillows like she’d seen him do in hotel rooms as if he were on vacation. Cap was sprawled in the only guest chair and they were watching a football game.
“I don’t know what you Americans see in that game. Rugby is a far better sport. No sissy helmets.”
Dane grinned at her. “New outfit?” He looked her up and down and she felt his gaze as if his eyes were heat-emitting lasers. She glanced down at her expensive suede pants and new boots, although she noticed his eyes lingered on her ice-blue cashmere sweater. He was so predictable. But then so was she since she felt the zing of his notice and his relaxed, overly confident maleness from across the room.
“I treated myself. With our bonus money.”
“What bonus money?” Cap said.
“Yeah, what bonus money? I didn’t get any checks in yet. Not even for expenses—”
“Oh I forgot to mention it, didn’t I?”
“Spill it, Shana.” Dane gave her a mock scowl.
She looked at Cap and wasn’t sure she should mention it in front of him, but what the heck?
“Fred Bryant sent us a bonus. I found a check for a hundred-thousand dollars in the P.O. box this morning from Bryant Enterprises.”
Dane furrowed his brows in real concern. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m sure Acer would have mentioned it if Fred Bryant was sending us a bonus that size—especially since we ended up having his daughter Fiona thrown in jail.”
“One hundred large? Impressive,” Cap said. “Are you sure the check is good?”
She walked by Cap and smacked his leg. “It was good. It was a cashier’s check.”
“Something ain’t right, girlie.”
Dane sounded serious.
“But what could be—”
“Remember your interview at the salon?” Dane said.
She nodded her head. Then she stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth. She had commanded Fiona to send her a check for one hundred-thousand dollars as a test to see if they had access to the embezzled money at the time.
“Looks like Fiona did what she was told.” Dane smiled the wicked lazy grin like he enjoyed when women did what they were told. Or that could have been Shana’s imagination. She felt the heat rise and her body flush in that pleasant anticipation. But it was the kind of anticipation she was not entitled to. She could not have Dane. Not even for a minute.
He didn’t belong to her. He belonged to no woman. He was his own man. A man of the world. A legend.
“Don’t look at me like that, girlie, unless you mean it,” he said.
Her hot wistful look did crazy things to his pulse and his other body parts making him damned uncomfortable—in a very pleasant way. He held his breath waiting for her response. She froze and retreated after a beat, turning away to look at Cap.
“I guess that means we can keep the money,” she said. “Fiona sent it to me. I’ll make sure we send our intrepid stringer Ronnie Ryan a nice bonus too.”
Cap smiled and said, “In addition to being brave and gorgeous, you’re a good hearted woman, Shana.”
Damn Cap. Her safety net.
But Dane ought to know better. Hadn’t he learned his lesson about the reason for the rule? Hadn’t it damn near killed him, compromised his professionalism and effectiveness on this case—always second guessing himself and her and every decision that involved putting her in danger—especially with Peck?
The thought of Peck simultaneously boiled his blood and made him smile.
Shana said, “How’s your shoulder, Cap? This guy has nothing wrong with him after all.” She swept a hand in Dane’s direction.
“What do you mean? I got a couple of cracked ribs, don’t I?”
“That’s nothing. No bullet wounds, not even a knife.”
“How about a fist in the face? Will that get me a kiss, girlie?”
She scowled at him. That meant her armor was up in full tilt and she was impervious. Might as well be made of granite. He sighed. Relief mingled with profound disappointment. He felt a wash of longing followed by a sense of comfort as if he were a kid returning home after a tough loss—home to his mother or sister.
That it felt good was a testament to how pathetic he’d become. He might as well start thinking of himself as her uncle. The notion disappeared as a defiant flash of memory of her naked next to him in bed, the scent of her and taste of her on his lips, flooded him. The erotic memory erased any comfort he felt with the disquiet of sensual tension. He took another deep breath.
“Let’s go home.”
She nodded and put out a hand to help him from the bed. His ribs were taped, so he took the hand while Cap watched with an unreadable expression. Good old Cap. He’d probably get a lecture from the guy later.
“I’ll drive. You’re on medication.”
“No argument here,” Dane said. “But for the record, the medication has not incapacitated any of my important physical functions.” He waggled his brows at her and she laughed.
He sighed again. She was clad in full-on body armor all right. It covered her from her head all the way deep down to her very soul. Maybe it would last this time and protect them both from his idiocy. From his ridiculous longing for what he couldn’t have.
He stood and put an arm around her. He owned her friendship and her partnership and that would have to do for now. It was more than he’d had in a long time. Even with all the comrades in arms he’d collected over the years, Cap included, it was Shana who provided the warmth he craved.
Dane would have to find a way to stay satisfied with what they had. No matter that it was against every instinct he had, against everything that made him who he was, to settle for less than he wanted. He’d try to stay content, not scare her off, to keep what he had with her.
Because his biggest fear was that she would leave.
Sneak Peek
Beachcomber Santa
A Beachcomber Investigations Novella
Chapter 1
The beach shack was too still since Shana left.
Dane scoffed at himself since she had only moved a few blocks away. She might have left the island and him for good. But he was lucky more than smart. Lucky more than charming at this point. He had no idea why she hadn’t put her bags on a ferry to take off from Martha’s Vineyard and never look back.
A shudder rippled through him. He eyed his liquor cabinet—the freezer where he had a bottle of tequila stashed. The one she bought when he’d asked her to pick it up.
Instead, he stepped out his back door. He hesitated about whether to turn left to go out back toward the harbor, or to turn right and head to the street toward Mrs. Jones’s place where Shana was renting an efficiency
unit for the off-season.
It was cold. The ocean breeze came up from his left and that made up his mind. He turned away from his usual solace of the harbor and sea air and headed to Shana’s place dressed only in his T-shirt and jeans. He didn’t even care if she accused him of being pathetic.
Maybe that wasn’t entirely true. He bent his mind on coming up with a plausible excuse why he needed to see her. As he passed his neighbor’s yard decorated with lights and a life-sized plastic replica of Rudolph, he decided the upcoming holiday was the perfect reason. Friends were entitled to stop in on friends at Christmas time, weren’t they?
He shook his head and kicked a stray rock a good fifty yards in disgust. She’d never buy it. He didn’t even have a Christmas tree or a single light. He hadn’t bought anyone a Christmas gift in years. Not even his mother. His mother had been happy with a call and an occasional visit.
Too bad he didn’t have a business excuse. They were still partners, even if they hadn’t had a case in over a month. He neared Shana’s unit, which was tacked onto the side of Mrs. Jones’s house, and thought about turning around—something he’d never done before—he was not one to back down from a challenge. He never turned around. Shana had him in goddamn knots. As always. He stopped and knew the only thing worse than turning around was to knock on her door and have her look at him like he was a pathetic fool. Or to have her turn him away.
But then his phone rang and changed everything.
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About the Author
Stephanie Queen lives in bucolic New Hampshire where writing stories with romance, action, intrigue and a dash of humor takes most of her time. Right now, she’s busy working on the next Beachcomber Investigations romantic detective series story with Dane and Shana.
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Stephanie Queen Books
Beachcomber Investigations Series
The Beachcombers – Prequel and Book 4 Scotland Yard Exchange series
Beachcomber Investigations – Book 1
Beachcomber Santa – Novella – Book 2
Beachcomber Valentine – Novella – Book 3
Beachcomber Baby – Book 4
Scotland Yard Exchange Series
Between a Rock and a Mad Woman – Prequel
The Throwbacks – Book 1
The Hot Shots – Book 2
The Romantics – Book 3
Small Town Romance Series
Small Town Glamour Girl Christmas
Small Town Glamour Girl Wedding – a novella
Small Town Hot Shot Bride – a novella
Playing the Game