by Jo Leigh
Her grin widened. “I do believe, Lieutenant Covack, that you’ve finally met your match.”
Wyatt gave her the stare of death, but then he looked back toward the bar. The girls didn’t even move from their front row seats at the railing. “What, no popcorn?”
Sabrina and Tiffy exchanged glances, then turned and went back inside.
He breathed in deep and slow. “Are the kids in the car?”
“They’re with their grandparents. I don’t think this will be anything to worry about, but Peter and Yvette feel better when they have their eyes on us.”
He nodded. Closed his eyes for a second, then just asked the question that had been bothering him a lot. “Was that you I saw the other day?”
“When you scared the shit out of that guy? Yes.”
He winced. “The kids?”
“They didn’t see anything but Aladdin on the back seat DVD.”
Relief flowed through him. “That was Sabrina’s boyfriend.”
“I figured,” she said, although the humor that had been in her eyes had gone, replaced by worry. “All these years and I’ve never seen that side of you.”
Wyatt thought about telling her it was an aberration, something he’d never do again, but he had no idea if that was true. He didn’t want to scare her, and he sure as hell hadn’t wanted to frighten the kids, but in that moment, he’d felt more like himself than he had in a long time.
“I’m not saying that was necessarily a bad thing. That jerk deserved a lot worse. It was just...” She shrugged. “Anyway, I came by to see if you needed any help before I went inland, and also I wanted to ask you something.”
“What’s that?”
She looked a little pink in the cheeks. “I was wondering, when everything settles down, and things are more normal, if you and Cricket would like to have dinner with me and Ned? Kind of like a double date?”
A double date? What the hell had happened to his world? Things had been going along fine for a long time, and now, he’d somehow ended up here. With Becky going out with a guy named Ned.
“I know the timing’s rotten. I’d intended to ask you when I stopped by the other day. Anyway, think about it, okay? Maybe talk to Cricket. I really like her a lot. And I want you to meet Ned.”
“Huh,” he said, sure in a second he’d respond appropriately. But somehow, Becky was already getting into her car, and he still had nothin’.
Chapter Twenty
THE SKY HAD darkened with the pounding rain and Cricket felt as if she was caught in time, an endless spiral of noise and heat. Wyatt’s quiet presence next to her on her bed probably spiked the temperature, but she didn’t want him to move, unless he wanted to come closer.
The music and chatter coming from Ronny’s gang melded with the cacophony outside, yet all she could think about was how utterly terrified she’d been with Wyatt up in that helicopter. She’d never felt that kind of rage before, not even when she’d been stabbed in the back by Grant. Or when she’d been cheated on by her college boyfriend. Nothing had hit her quite that intensely—all driven by pure fear.
That revelation had come when the storm had hit in earnest and they’d taken refuge in Ronny’s shack. Probably because she was still angry at her father. Because he’d scared her. But how could she feel this way about a man she’d known for such a short time? She’d never been impetuous before, at least not when it came to relationships. As for Grant, she hadn’t ever considered him a love interest.
“Cricket? Would it be better if I went back to the bar? Left you alone for a while?”
“What?” Her exhaustion was as draining as the noise, and even shaking her head felt like it was beyond her ability.
“I’m sorry for leaving without you,” Wyatt said. “I did wait as long as I could, but the barometer was rising by the minute and so was the wind speed.”
It was a perfectly logical explanation, but she wasn’t completely buying it. Now that she understood that he’d done this kind of thing before. That he’d helped the coast guard—who routinely went into crazy dangerous situations—told her a lot. To ask him the question might not be fair, but she needed to know. “Do you miss the action? The adrenaline rushes?”
Wyatt had moved closer, now sharing her pillow as he looked straight into her eyes. She’d seen him like this before—laser-focused, his brow furrowed.
“Yeah, I do miss it sometimes. And I do like to feel I can make a difference, but that’s mostly because the military has been such a huge part of my life. Not just being a SEAL, but all of it. Serving my country was all I knew for most of my life. Hell, I was raised in the culture.”
She nodded, impressed yet again by his honesty.
“I imagine it’s how you must miss the ocean and the slower pace of Temptation Bay.”
“Hmm,” she said, giving him a brief nod, which probably wasn’t the admission he hoped for, but she didn’t want the focus to be on her.
He didn’t push for more. Instead, he brushed the damp hair off her forehead. “When all is said and done, special ops got to be too much for me. I’ve made the right decision. Buying the bar, being here to help out with Becky and the kids. I’m happy where I am.”
She cuddled against him, draping her arm across his chest. His muscles eased as he put his arm around her back.
The radio kept them up-to-date, the ongoing ruckus in the next room nearly drowning out the rain and wind, although they still hadn’t reached fifty knots. “I’ll put twenty bucks on the power going out at fifty-three knots,” she said, running her hand under his T-shirt, finding his sweat arousing, which was a first. “Duration, five hours, margin of error plus or minus thirty minutes.”
His upper body moved to his laughter. “Okay, twenty bucks on fifty-eight knots, duration twelve hours, margin of error plus or minus eleven hours.”
She lifted her head, full of indignation. Only to find him grinning at her with the big, easy smile she wanted to gift wrap and send to herself in Chicago. “Try again, buddy.”
“Spoilsport.” He shifted her a bit, his hands cupping her bottom so she pressed against him more firmly. “Margin of error plus or minus thirty minutes.”
“Deal,” she said, but he kissed her before she’d finished the word. When he pulled back she started giggling. “SEALed with a kiss. Get it? SEALed?”
“That’s not even a thing,” he said, but despite his serious expression, she had proof he was laughing on the inside.
“You think it’s funny,” she said. “Come on...”
He kissed her again, and she forgot about the storm and the kids in the living room...basically anything that wasn’t Wyatt. Until some idiot turned the music to eleven.
Wyatt winced. “God, I’d be okay with the power going out now just so that noise would stop.”
“My father doesn’t have surfer’s ear. His eardrums have been blown out listening to this crap.”
“Hey, you want me to brave the living room while we still have power? Get us another beverage or two, maybe top off the ice in the cooler?”
“Good idea, but I’ll go,” she said, pushing up on her elbows. “I want to make sure everyone’s behaving, especially you-know-who. What can I get you?”
“Beer would be good at this point, I think. Sure you don’t need me to hoist and carry?”
“I can manage. You keep listening to the weather, and I’ll be back before you lose all your hearing.”
* * *
AFTER CRICKET HAD left the room, Wyatt stripped the bed of everything but the bottom sheet and the pillows. He tried to call his friend about any weather updates, but the lines were overloaded.
The music suddenly went down. Way down. He couldn’t hear what Cricket was saying, and he was sorry to miss it. She could keep up with any drill sergeant. Hell, she could go toe to toe with the SEAL trainers. Although she didn’t cuss as mu
ch.
He sat, putting his elbows on his knees, and stared at the weird pale pink carpet. What was he thinking getting so involved with a woman who was going to leave any day now? Or maybe her leaving was what made it all right for him to get involved?
The last thing he wanted to do was overthink things. Instead, he tried his phone again, this time to contact the bar. Sabrina had let him know they’d opened, at least as long as the power held out. He got through, and according to Tiffy, all was well. The laughter in the background confirmed it.
Cricket returned with the small cooler, refilled with ice and four beers. He smiled, glad she was back.
“Nice,” she said, nodding her approval at his redecorating. After putting the cooler down, and handing him a beer, she climbed on next to him.
Before he could say a word, a huge gust of wind shook the whole shack, followed by an enormous crack, like wood snapping.
“Oh, God, I hope that wasn’t our green ash.”
“I doubt it. That sounded like it was at least three hundred meters from here. That tree is much closer.”
“I love that tree,” she said, handing him his beer. “I used it to measure my height every year. Bet the trunk still has the marks.”
“You’ll have to show me.”
“Maybe tomorrow morning, when we sweep the beach for damage. If the tree is still there.”
* * *
HER PHONE RANG. Grant’s ringtone. “Damn,” she said, picking up her cell from the nightstand, but not answering it. She’d had a lot of time to consider what she was going to do, and although the thought of it made her ill, she’d come up with a plan that could work. The cell rang again, but she just put it on silent before setting it down.
“Grant?”
She nodded. “I’m not ready to deal with him. Not right now.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think the storm is already losing a little steam.”
One second later, the power went out, making them both laugh. “Did you get the last measurement when I was in the other room?”
It was very dark, and would get much more humid without the overhead fan. “Fifty-one knots. And why is that music still playing?”
“Battery packs,” she said.
“Ronny uses them to run the music?”
“No. Those are from his minions.”
“He couldn’t persuade them to power an air conditioner?”
She put her cold hand on his chest, and he jerked so hard he shook the bed. The flashlight was right next to her cell phone, but she didn’t reach for it as she giggled, wondering if she dared touch him somewhere even hotter.
Then a shock of ice hit her bare thigh, and the shriek that came out of her was louder than the wind. The icy beer bottom was removed quickly, but that didn’t lessen her thirst for blood. “Okay, buddy. You wanted war, you’ll get war.”
“Wait a minute. You started this whole thing.”
She made her most affronted face, even though he couldn’t see her. “It was just my hand, which I thought would cool you off. It wasn’t my fault you decided to throw down the red flag.”
“You did not touch my chest so I’d cool down. You did it to make me jump.”
“I would never.”
“Oh, I know your wicked ways, Cricket Shaw. You’re wily. Too smart for your own good.” His warm hand was on her thigh, moving upward at a steady pace.
Still in the eerie darkness, she found his arm, then the hand holding the beer. She snatched that away, putting it quickly on her nightstand, and moved over his upper body like a blanket.
“Trying to smother me now? Should I be worried about your intentions?”
“Absolutely,” she whispered, right before she reached down to his waistband and slid her still chilly hand underneath.
His shriek was even louder.
* * *
HE’D DUMPED HER, nicely, on the mattress next to him, glad she couldn’t see his expression as she laughed like a little girl. It was a great sound. One he’d like to hear more often, as long as she didn’t use him as her giggle-factory.
“You almost finished?” he asked.
She didn’t speak, just kept laughing, although she must have been shaking her head because a lock of her hair hit him on the cheek.
“When you are, could you give me back my beer?”
“What makes you think you deserve it?”
The room was pitch-black, but that was right in his wheelhouse. He moved as stealthily as possible until he was hovering over her, and lifted her shirt. Pressing his lips against her warm skin, he gave her a raspberry she’d never forget.
Cricket laughed harder as she shoved him away.
Finally, as the world around them banged and rattled, she grew quiet, her laughter easing until all that remained was a tiny hiccup.
“Truce?” he asked.
“Truce.” Then the mattress wobbled, and there was his beer. He helped her sit up so her back was against the headboard, right next to him. Then he finally took a long draw, sighing as the chilled beer slid down his throat.
The music had gone from irritating to excruciating in the time Cricket had been back. “Hell,” Wyatt muttered. “Don’t they have homes?”
“They better, because as soon as this storm passes, I’m kicking them all out.”
Ronny’s voice, more strident than Wyatt had expected, yelled at the heathens to dial it down or go home.
“What about me?” Wyatt brushed his lips over her ear. “Do I get to stay?”
“I might make an exception.”
He reached under her shirt again.
“Oh, no. Not with Ronny and the kids here.”
Sighing, he leaned back. “I know you haven’t had much time, but have you done any thinking about what you’re going to do about work?”
She exhaled heavily. “I’ll have to tell them something, but I’m not leaving until Ronny sees the audiologist. If he has surgery, of course I’m staying as long as I need to. I just hope by the time we’re done getting him better, I’m not completely broke.”
He winced. “So, you know for sure he has no insurance?”
“No, he does, I’m just not clear what his policy covers. But, going back to your question about work, I’ve thought of another option that I’m seriously considering.”
“Yeah?” He’d found her hand and rubbed her baby soft skin with his thumb.
“I go back to work, do my best to hide my utter disgust with the case and the firm. Meanwhile, I’ll update my résumé and start looking for another job. The fact that I’m still working at Burrell, Scoffield and Schultz, on what will likely be a high-profile case, will be all the recommendation I need.”
“That sounds reasonable,” he said, not liking the plan much, but in her circumstances, it was a clever move. “Where would you start looking? Someplace closer to Temptation Bay?”
She didn’t answer, which gave him time to wonder what that would mean for the two of them. He’d like to explore the crazy connection they’d had from day one, but that was a scary proposition. What if it all fizzled out? Or it didn’t, which would mean he could end up exactly where he swore he’d never be again. Caring too much. Setting himself up for disaster.
Since she still hadn’t responded, Wyatt said, “I figured you’d want to stay close to Ronny. Or did you want to stay in Chicago?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said, her voice more subdued. “I have my condo there, which would make staying simpler, but I can also sell it fairly quickly since it’s in a prime location. Actually, I might end up making some money off it.”
“That would be a good thing.”
“Yeah, but... I don’t really want to stay in Chicago. In the end, though, it’ll be the reactions to my résumé that will make the decision for me. Barring the West Coast—won’t move there. And I’d
prefer not to work in New York, but I can’t afford to eliminate that, either. Boston’s a possibility, and that’s only an hour and a half away.”
“Oh, hell, you’ll have all kinds of interest. Probably have your pick of firms.”
Her soft laugh bordered on derisive.
“I’m not just blowing smoke here. Your reasoning is solid as a rock. You’ve been levelheaded and methodical. And we both know you’re articulate. You must interview well.”
“Nope. Still not going to get laid.”
He laughed, but he was pretty sure she knew he was being serious.
She didn’t keep poking, and he didn’t either. But then, after what passed for silence in this maelstrom, she asked, “Would that be a problem?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know, if I moved a lot closer.”
Now, it was his turn to lapse into silence. It felt too soon to talk about his reservations about the two of them, or to admit he’d like to test the waters. Polishing off his beer granted him a temporary reprieve, and then the lights came back on, causing the kids to start yelling their heads off.
“That’s okay” she said, moving closer to him, now that they could see each other. “I don’t know, either.”
He found her mouth with no problem, and their kiss helped him relax in the brighter room. It was late, and it was also quieter outside, now that someone had finally turned off the music.
The relaxation turned into something more urgent as they returned to sharing a pillow, and he knew he was in trouble. Unless... “Is it too soon to kick everyone out?”
“A little bit,” she said with a husky laugh, as a gust shook the house. “Ronny loves having them all here so much. I think all his faithful followers and the surfing keeps him young. I just wish it didn’t make him childish.”
“Have you told him what’s going on with your job?”
“Nope. I won’t until I get some feedback on those résumés. If I’m lucky enough to have a choice of firms, it’ll be a difficult decision. Ronny would never intentionally want to influence me, but it is harder to stay away now that I see he’s not a spring chicken.”
