That was Quinn’s cue to remind them how afraid she was of going into the ocean. “I told you guys when you asked me to come I don’t like the water and because of that I don’t know how to swim. You guys should go ahead though. I’ll read a book or something while you guys do whatever it is you do in the water.”
“Nope, that won’t work,” Kit reasoned. “You can’t live in So Cal this close to the beach without learning how to swim. Baylee and I’ll teach you.”
“But I don’t like the water,” Quinn repeated. She wasn’t about to admit no one had ever taken the time to show her how. Even with all the motels she’d stayed in, most of which the closest thing to water they’d had was the bathtub, there had been few opportunities to swim.
“You will by the time we’re done with you,” Kit stated. “We’ll start you out on a paddle board first, get you used to the ocean. The water’s not that deep right off shore, anyway. It isn’t deep unless you go farther out. And you won’t. We’ll keep you in knee-deep water at first. And we’ll be right there with you.”
“You aren’t gonna drown, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Baylee reassured. “We won’t let you.”
Kit took in the scared look on Quinn’s face. “Don’t worry about it. It’s easy. With us two teaching you, you’ll be able to swim in no time.”
And Kit had been right. It hadn’t taken long for Quinn to learn how to swim.
Sometime during her first trip to Catalina Island, Baylee and Kit had become her family. That week they’d fought like sisters, fought over anything and everything from the last piece of pizza left in the box to which movies to watch. They’d fought over swimsuits, which shorts to wear with which top, which pair of flip-flops belonged to whom, although Kit’s feet were a lot bigger than theirs. They’d traded jewelry, painted each other’s fingernails. They’d even dabbled with trying on makeup. All the while Mr. Scott directed them in the fine art of presentation.
They’d laughed like hyenas at the stupid lines from the movie Dumb and Dumber they’d paid to see at the Avalon Theater, pantomimed vocals from Smells Like Teen Spirit horribly off-key, and laughed and giggled until Mr. Scott had yelled at the three of them to settle down for the night and go to sleep.
After spending most of the day outdoors, swimming, they’d invariably tumble into bed, exhausted.
Days were spent primarily at the beach, where Kit and Baylee did indeed teach a reluctant Quinn how to eventually do more than dog paddle.
And just as Kit had predicted, Quinn had fallen in love with the water.
No longer cooped up in dreary surroundings, Quinn had blossomed on a boogie board. At about that same time she’d envied Kit’s and Baylee’s ability and sheer will to teeter and balance themselves on a full blown surfboard.
No longer content to just dog paddle, determined to become a stronger swimmer so she could graduate to a surfboard, Quinn worked tirelessly that week to perfect her stroke.
Dedicated to their friend’s goal, Kit and Baylee set out to do everything they could to help Quinn achieve Esther Williams Olympic gold-medal status.
From that point forward, they’d turned out to be each other’s strongest advocates. It was during that first trip to Catalina they’d started sharing their fears, their old nightmares, and more importantly, their hopes and dreams for the future.
Somehow during that first trip, the three became sisters.
Dropping her bags in the entryway, Quinn pulled herself back from another nostalgic glimmer from the past. “Wow, I haven’t been here in years. This place brings back so many memories, good ones, times when things were a lot simpler.”
Reese caught the wistful look on Quinn’s face and realized for a while there she’d gone someplace else. At least he could be grateful there had been a few good times mixed in with the early painful, bad ones.
He glanced around at the spacious, open ranch style floor plan and recalled, “Jake and Dylan and I had our own special places growing up, too.
“Like what?”
“Jake’s grandmother’s place in Santa Cruz for one, my father’s cabin in Big Sur, then there was the getaway at Dylan’s aunt’s place near Muir Woods, north of San Francisco.”
“Oh, I love Muir Woods, one of the best places on the planet to hike among giant redwood and sequoia trees.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Once. Kit and Baylee and I went up to explore Napa. Gosh, that must have been when Kit turned twenty-one and we decided on a road trip. You know she’s the tallest one of us but the youngest because she has a fall birthdate. Anyway, it was beautiful there in October. We got bored with the wine tour and ended up spending the day outside trudging through Muir Woods.”
“Just a day? To get the full experience you need to take the time and explore the trails, the winding roads, the wildlife, enjoy a sunset or two. You weren’t there nearly long enough. You like to camp?”
“Are you kidding? Right here on this Island the three of us spent more time camping out than we did indoors. Haven’t gone camping in ages,” she said as she swiped her hand along the dusty table in the hall.
“No better place for pitching a tent and enjoying nature than Big Sur or hiking near Big Bear.”
She shook her head. “A nature lover? Who knew? And here I thought you were mostly a desk jockey. Tell you what, I get my job back, we get all this mess behind us, and first chance we get, we’ll explore some of the trails up and down the coast. But tonight, we get settled. Should we eat or unpack? I’m really hungry. I vote we eat.”
“You’re always hungry.”
“True, so I guess I’ll go rustle us up something for dinner first.”
“You cook?”
“I’m an expert at utilizing the microwave. Hey, I’m no Kit in the kitchen but I get by. You’ll have to take your chances and eat what’s put in front of you.” She eyed him curiously. “Unless…please tell me you’re a legal eagle by day and a culinary genius by night.”
“Afraid not. But I’m hungry, too. I use a can opener though and I’m excellent at nuking stuff in the microwave. Dylan said they stocked the kitchen when they were here before.”
“Yep, that’s what Baylee told me. Let’s see what we’ve got to work with.” They headed off to peruse the kitchen.
Opening the fridge, Quinn announced, “Eggs are still good. I can nuke eggs. Milk’s still in date, too. Woot! See if there’s a can of chili in the pantry?”
Reese wrinkled up his face at the idea of eating anything out of a can. “You’re kidding? A can of chili?”
“Come on, Brennan, adventure isn’t just a ride in the air or a bounce at sea. Live a little. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Indigestion from hell? Food poisoning?” He did his best not to watch her butt wiggle into the pantry as she bent down and sure enough brought out a can of chili. His lower belly lurched with a hunger that had nothing to do with canned food or eggs.
“Please tell me that can isn’t left over from the ’90s? Look, why don’t I take you out to one of those cute little restaurants we passed on the way here?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, the can is in date. Baylee said they had all manner of canned food delivered. Do you think I’d risk giving us a foodborne illness? And we don’t need to eat out. I’m tired. After not sleeping much the last two nights, I just want to eat something, take a shower and hit the sack.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t try.”
She shrugged. “I’m used to winging it with takeout and delivery.”
He had to admit he wasn’t used to watching a woman as appealing as Quinn work on preparing a meal. It might’ve been overtly chauvinistic, but Reese couldn’t help it. Quinn looked so damned gorgeous standing at the counter cracking open eggs.
“Anything I can do?” he finally managed.
“Open the chili,” she commanded as she scooped up butter, and dropped it into the egg mixture, and added a little milk. She stuck the bowl in the microw
ave, punched a few buttons and stood back to wait.
“Seriously. You’re going to serve this with eggs?” he asked as he used the old-fashioned can opener to get into the disgusting contents inside the can, masquerading as meat.
“Over the eggs. You wait and see how delicious this is, trust me. You set the table.”
He got down plates from a cabinet, opened a drawer for silverware.
When the timer dinged a couple of minutes later, she dug out the steaming bowl, replaced it with the one that held the glumpy concoction of chili, and covered it with a generous stream of paper towels to avoid the splatter. While that heated, she grated cheese over the steaming eggs.
“You’ve eaten this before.”
“Lots of times; haven’t died from indigestion yet.”
“Cast iron stomach?”
“You could say that.” When the microwave sounded, she scooped up several spoons full of chili and plopped it on top of the artery-clogging dish.
He scanned the contents of the fridge. “Beer, all is not lost.”
“You’re actually afraid to eat my cooking? Big chicken. I’ll have you know I’m great at throwing together a meal with whatever’s on hand, be it leftovers or out of a can. I’m great at stretching a food dollar, too. Ask Kit and Baylee next time you see them, about how great I am at the grocery store, finding stuff on sale. Give me three ingredients out of any pantry and I can make you a meal.”
He shook his head. “I don’t even want to know what you could do with a can of Spam.”
“The wonder that is Spam should not be taken lightly. It’s the kind of food you can eat for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, fried, or just out of the can.”
“Spam has yet to be defined as food.”
“Not when you’re hungry.”
That statement put a sobering end to the teasing. He realized now a starving kid might consider Spam a luxury. “It’s just that I haven’t eaten chili and eggs since college.”
She cast him a long look. “You are a food snob.”
He grinned. “I guess I am. Let’s eat this before it gets stone cold.”
Either he was extremely hungry or she did make the best scrambled eggs and chili concoction he’d ever tasted. Surprisingly, the meal turned out to be a tasty change of pace.
They ate in companionable silence until Quinn gushed, “See, lots of protein in one fell swoop.” She picked up her beer. “You really think Cade Boyd is a serial killer?”
“Mr. X thinks so. Since Connor didn’t kill Claire, I’d bet money she was one of Cade’s victims.”
She shuddered. “You have no idea how creepy that makes me feel. God, I wished I had listened to Kit way back when.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Good question. Have you ever thought you knew more about yourself than anyone else did at the time but in the end you realized that maybe Mom was right about a few things all along? I didn’t have the Mom thing going on. We were always willing to play that role for each other, though, get up in each other’s face, give it our all, or tried to.” She sighed. “Turns out, Mom was right.”
“Mom being Kit or Baylee.”
She laughed. “In the instance of Cade, yeah, that was Kit. But it just as easily could have been Baylee Diane, depending on the situation. You think you’ve put it behind you, but the man just isn’t able to let it go. Eight of my neighbors are dead because Cade wanted to get back at me for something that happened when I was nineteen, might as well be ancient history.”
“The Boyd brothers have a problem with women, Cade in particular.”
“I know and it has me thinking about Baylee. If Mr. X hadn’t taken out Connor, she’d still be dealing with the custody battle from hell.”
“Don’t think about it. There’s no need. Connor’s no longer left to hurt Sarah or Baylee. It’s done.”
“Thanks to…”
“Yeah.” He took a pull on his beer. “Let’s clean up these dishes and take a walk, stretch our legs.” He cocked his head. “Yeah, I know you said you were exhausted but a walk on the beach will help you relax.”
She eyed him, not buying that for a minute. “Sounds good but you just want to—relax me—and get me into bed. Besides, I cooked, so you get to do cleanup.”
“But it’ll go faster if we both load the dishwasher,” he pointed out, grinning. “And we both want to—relax—eventually.”
“Okay, but you’re breaking the hard and fast rule of the kitchen.”
“Another Mom thing?”
She chuckled. “Now that I think about it, it’s Kit’s steadfast rule, probably because she always did the cooking while Baylee and I got stuck doing the dishes.”
“Smart woman.”
“Oh yeah. Kit’s no dummy, even though Alana did everything she could to make her feel like total crap.”
“I’m glad I never knew the woman. Jake did, though. I remember how he described her back then. Of course I didn’t realize she had a daughter she’d habitually abused. But Jake told me about Alana’s—lewd conduct during a business meeting. She tried to coax him into bed.”
“Please do not put that image in my head.” She puffed out a breath. “But that sounds like something Alana would do. I saw her at her worst, so nothing you could tell me would surprise me.”
“Yeah? How about knowing that on the night she died, she and Jessica were still out patrolling an upscale Beverly Hills bar for…”
“Companionship?” Quinn finished for him, cocking a brow in amusement.
“Okay, we’ll call it that. It got me to thinking though. Why would old Sumner Boyd put up with such an arrangement from his very public figure of a wife?”
“Because the old goat was more than likely screwing anything and everything he could that got within ten feet himself.”
“Probably. I don’t think the word faithful ever entered into their long partnership. The cheating was more than likely a two-way street. But there were rumors at the courthouse...”
She tilted her head and waited. “Something tells me you’re about to surprise me.”
“Gossip around the courthouse said Jessica had a female lover.”
“Alana? I thought she loved men.”
“I’m pretty sure Alana loved Alana.”
Quinn laughed and shook her head. “Okay, can’t argue that logic.”
CHAPTER 12
After they were done with kitchen duty, Reese grabbed her hand and tugged her out the back door. They immediately toed off their shoes and hit the wet sand.
Walking along the sandy beach under a brilliant starlit sky not twenty yards from the house, it felt like they were a world away from L.A. instead of fifteen minutes by air.
On the warm June night, the light breeze that blew in over the water stirred the air and felt good on the skin after they’d been inside the stuffy, closed-up house.
“I’d forgotten how peaceful it is here.”
“Believe it or not, this is my first visit.”
“Really? Lucky for you I know the Island like the back of my hand. It’s a shame we’ll only be here for one night.”
Studying the relaxed calm on her face for the first time since her apartment blew up, he wanted to keep that stress-free look there for as long as possible. “Who says?”
“Shouldn’t we get back to L.A.?”
“Sure. Eventually. But what’s the hurry? We’re here. Nothing’s stopping us from enjoying the Island for a couple of days.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t mind some downtime if I could spend it here. I’d forgotten how fond I am of this place.”
“Taking an extra day won’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Why here?”
“Because coming here was the first time I ever went anyplace—with friends.”
“Aw, baby.” With that, he reached and coaxed her into his arms. “I have to do this,” he said as he tugged on the bright blue Scrunchie holding back all that black hair up in a tight ponytail. He watched as it fell down around her shoulde
rs.
“I’ve seen you wear your hair pulled back ever since that night at the hospital, except for the other day standing in my guest room—after your shower. You were damn sexy standing there with wet hair. I’ve imagined it down for a while now, draped around your neck.”
“It gets in my way if I don’t pull it back.”
“I guarantee it won’t get in mine,” he promised as he nibbled down her jaw, taking a good hold on all that hair.
She sucked in a breath right before his mouth came down full on hers. Hard. His arms locked her up.
“Let’s go back inside,” he whispered while he pulled her along toward the house.
Expecting him to immediately lead her upstairs to the bedroom, he surprised her by going over to his gear still sitting in the entryway and digging out a music CD.
“What’re you doing?” She asked clearly perplexed.
He looked around for a CD player, spotted the one he recognized as Dylan’s sitting on top of the old-fashioned stereo system that looked like it belonged in a’70s sitcom. “Setting the mood,” he explained as he slid the silver disc into the slot.
A little embarrassed for some reason, she stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and rocked on her heels. “Reese, I don’t need ambiance.”
“Sure you do. Ambiance is an essential part of seduction.”
“It is? Since when?”
The lilting voice of Teddy Thompson singing Tonight Will Be Fine drifted from the speakers. “Since now. Dance with me, Tyler. Put everything out of your mind. It’s just the two of us and no one else right now matters.” He held out his hand.
She opened her mouth, fully intending to come back with something smartass until she met his eyes. Either those calm gray pools were tugging at her heartstrings or it was the dose of lust she recognized in their depths.
Unbelievably moved because she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had seduced her into bed with music and a dance, she finally found her voice. “I bet this gets you laid a lot, huh, Mr. Smooth?”
Ending Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 3) Page 15
