Treasure in the Sand

by Jill Monroe

  Last night she should have ladied up and cracked apart the chest with Cooper. She could have done her classwork afterwards. Pulled an all-nighter if she had to. Instead she’d been responsible. Idiot.

  And why hadn’t she just opened up the chest herself? Given in to her curiosity? Because she and Cooper were a team, and she had integrity. Idiot.

  The school day dragged worse than the day before Thanksgiving Break and spring break rolled into one. Molly could have called in a sub at lunch or asked another teacher to take her classes for the rest of the day and met up with Cooper at Brecon early. But she tried never to be a slacker. Idiot.

  With a heavy sigh, Molly slipped into the briefs of her bikini and tugged the soft material up her thighs. She slipped out of the blouse and bra she’d worn for school and snapped the straps of her bikini top over her shoulders, tugging her suit in place.

  She glanced down at her thighs and her bare stomach. The bikini appeared pretty tame in the dressing room at the store in Naples, especially compared to what people sported in Miami, but here, in the privacy of her home and knowing Cooper might see her in the skimpy suit, she was definitely showing too much skin for comfort.

  If the map led them to a location in the water, they’d wanted to be prepared. Only now all she could think of was his gaze on her skin. His hands caressing her body. His mouth on hers.

  Her skin grew achy and heated and the man wasn’t even here. Just the thought of him reduced her to a puddle or hormones and lust.

  She was pathetic.

  She should think about swimming in cutoffs and a bulky t-shirt.

  But she’d also brought the box of condoms home.

  Molly shook out her dark hair from the knot she’d worn at school. So, was she going to sleep with him? Was that the plan?

  No. Absolutely not. Sex would only complicate their business together. What if they found Le Cœur Surveillé and turned to each other in the exhilaration of the moment? Or what if they didn’t find the treasure and leant on each other to relieve the disappointment? Most people made terrible decisions when in the throes of heightened emotion. Made them feel passions that weren’t real and not meant to be felt.

  So…there’s your answer. Don’t sleep with him.

  On the other hand, it was no secret she was more than a little infatuated with the guy long before he’d found her on the beach. The man could do some real damage to her heart, if she let him in. But how do you block someone who was gorgeous, fun to be with and whose commitment to preserving the world’s endangered archeological sites she admired? Plus he made her hot.

  Okay, so…sleep with him.

  And still, when had she ever had this much fun? Her life for the last two years had been nothing but work, the hurricane and driving across the causeway to look in on her Gram. Not to mention stress, worry and anxiety. These last couple of days had been the most hopeful, the most optimistic she’d felt in a long time. Last night she’d gone to bed and not gone through a list of the things in her head of all she had to do. Instead she felt…expectant about the next day. If the hurricane had taught her anything, it was the unexpected could come into your life and take it all away, so grab happiness when you could.

  Two hands to one.

  So, was she going to sleep with him? Who knew?

  Molly heard the crunch of gravel on the driveway and her heart sped. Cooper must be here. She quickly hauled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt over her bathing suit and raced to the front door. She stepped out onto the porch when she heard the slam of his car door.

  Her breath stilled in her chest. How could a man look so damn good in a pair of swim trunks for shorts and a t-shirt? He held up two bags after he spotted her. “Take out,” he told her.

  And he’d brought food. Yeah, she was probably sleeping with him.

  She rushed down the steps, breathless and smiling. “You hungry now or do you want to get right to it?”

  “There’s a question,” she thought she heard him mumble.

  “C’mon. We can talk in the kitchen.” Molly whirled around and paused. She’d grown so used to the way her girlhood home appeared now, she could only imagine Cooper worried about his safety stepping inside. “Don’t worry, the inspector approved it for habitation.”

  He stilled her fingers, his thumb smoothing over the back of her hand. “Molly, don’t worry about it. You saw that mud hut I had to make in season three, right? This is a palace.”

  “I wish you could have seen the cottage before the hurricane. The porch completely wrapped around the house, not just in the front like it is now. Dark green shutters framed every window. Grandpa had painted them the exact color of orange tree leaves.” They took the steps together, still holding hands. Molly tugged open the screen door. “You can’t tell it with all the windows boarded up, but every room was filled with light. Gram had picked out these gorgeous hardwood floors. She was about as outdoorsy as you could get, so she required a floor that could handle work boots, a lot of dirt and sand. When I get the rest of the money, I’m going to replank all these walls. Seal them rather than stain so the natural beauty of the wood shines through.” She angled her head to the left. “C’mon, the kitchen’s this way.”

  Cooper whistled under his breath as he entered.

  “Yeah, most of the money I could spare was to demo this room. This side of the house took the brunt of the wind and the rain. The water rose to about six inches, and left a ton of mud, so none of the cabinets could be salvaged. But there’s a nice new fridge and stove and oven.” Cooper dropped her hand, so she could stow the food containers in the fridge.

  “Gram’s room is the furthest along. Grandpa’s chest is in the closet.” This room she’d been able to clear and clean on the weekends. Molly had painted the walls a nice, fresh cream. Only the bedframe and a dresser could be saved, but she’d managed to find a comforter decorated with orange blossoms she hoped Gram would like. She opened the closet door and tugged the string to the overhead light. “Can you imagine if we hadn’t been able to save this chest?”

  Cooper hunkered down and tapped the metal. “They build these army chests tough.”

  “I guess we can drag it out into the middle of the floor.” She plopped down on the floor to get in a better position to unlock the box. She took a deep breath.

  “You nervous?” Cooper asked.

  “A little anxious. A whole lot curious.”

  He covered her hand with his. “Just remember this is the fun part. Anything is possible at this moment.”

  She lifted the locket Gram had given her from around her neck. The only time she ever remembered Gram not wearing it was when she’d had her MRI after the stroke. She’d immediately asked for her pendant after the procedure.

  Now the locket was Molly’s. She snapped it open and took out the key. “Here we go.”

  “Wait.” Cooper dragged his cell phone from his pocket. “Have to make a record of this, for the blog.” He leaned in so their heads were almost touching. “Say Treasure.”

  Molly scooted out of the shot. “I’ll pass.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re the star of this, Molly.”

  She shook her head. “You’re the star, Cooper. No one wants to see me.”

  “I’d like to see you. I don’t want to look back on these pictures some day and not see you in them. Half the story would be missing.”

  “Okay. But I have veto power on any picture.”

  “Done,” he said with a wink. He lifted the camera again and snapped their photo. Then they focused on the chest. The lock snapped open with a click, but the lid squeaked when they raised the top.

  Cooper used the light from his phone to shine inside the chest, and Molly heaved a sigh of relief. “Doesn’t look like there’s been any water damage.”

  “These things are built to withstand worse.”

  Inside were the memories of a life fully lived. Several 4H ribbons from when Grandpa was in high school. A framed copy of his marriage certificate to Gram. Two han
dprints made from glue and sand, one from her dad and another from her. Father’s Day gifts she’d made with Gram’s help. A manila folder contained more mundane paperwork, his discharge papers from the Army, his vaccination record and the deed to the house.

  “No map,” she said on a sigh. Guilt slammed into her. She should probably give him the ten grand he’d already paid her.

  “What’s that at the very bottom. Looks like a rock.”

  “Grandpa was always collecting interesting things he found along the beach. He’d turn them into wind chimes or decorate the garden with his finds.” Molly reached in and lifted a large flat piece of rough granite. A long wavy line had been etched close to the edge and several symbols were carved along the surface.

  “Does this mean anything to you?” he asked.

  She ran her fingertips along the ragged rock face. Her breath came out as a heavy sigh. “Sort of. Ever since I was little my grandpa made a game of ciphers and riddles. He started me out with simple substitution ciphers. He liked to play around with secret codes in his spare time, cracking them, but also trying to devise new ones. When I grew older, he’d make these cryptograms I’d have to solve. Each one was more difficult than the last, but he’d devise them as scavenger hunts. It was just for us. The thing we did together.”

  “He was preparing you for this moment, Molly. He’d hoped for all of this to be yours. What does it say?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “That’s just it. I’m not sure. I haven’t thought of ciphers in a long time. I’m out of the groove.”

  “But you do think you can.”

  “I don’t think he would have trained me like he did unless he thought I could. Oh no,” she groaned, and dropped her head into her hands.

  “What?”

  “What if this isn’t a message from Grandpa to me. What if this is a cipher he was unable to solve and he left it for me to try?”

  “I guess you’ll have to get started.”

  She blinked at him. “I appreciate the faith you have in me. Careful. Someone might accuse you of being likable.”

  Cooper faux shuddered and rose to his feet, extending his hand to her. “Let’s work this through while we eat.”

  “Good idea,” she said as she gripped his hand.

  When Cooper suggested they eat, she hadn’t realized he’d meant picnic by the ocean.

  “You made me realize I needed to stop and look at the view from time to time. I just happen to be with a woman who owns her own beach. Got a blanket?”

  With a nod, she crossed to the closet while he retrieved the food from the fridge, then they strolled down the trail that led to the sea. “Not to sound like a creep, but I followed you down this path a few nights ago.”

  “I was wondering if you just stumbled across me or if finding me there had been your actual plan.”

  Cooper rubbed at his chin. “A little of both. I wanted to talk to you, but didn’t know where you were going.”

  The sound of waves and seagulls urged them along the path until the sparse palm tree line broke and they met the sand. With a wave of her arms, Molly stretched out the blanket and let it float to the ground. Then she kicked off her shoes and dropped to the covering. Cooper settled down beside her.

  “I’ve had so many picnics on this beach, but it never gets old.”

  Cooper divvied up food on plates as she poured them each a glass of wine. She closed her eyes and moaned after taking her first bite. “This is not your normal takeout.”

  “I got it from Junonia.”

  “So why aren’t you using this adventure for The World Overton?” she asked after a few moments.

  His dark gaze turned toward the water. “I’m going back to my roots. How it all started.”

  “Just a guy with a camera and a blog?”

  He nodded. “Exactly.”

  Like so many others, she’d followed the adventures of the twenty-year-old Cooper. With a map and a handful of dollars, he’d bummed across seaports in search of clues for the elusive Mir, a Russian ship lost at sea and believed to be carrying millions of Czarist gold. Each night he’d upload funny and sometimes poignant description of that day’s adventure along with pictures of his dangerous dives in shark invested waters or crumbling sunken ships. Molly had waited breathlessly for her slow dial-up Internet to load his page. To see if he lived after that day’s quest. What began as a small, underground following turned into a sensation.

  “Did you ever expect your journey to get so popular?”

  “Never. I was twenty and broke. I had no expectations that I’d even eat the next day.” His smile turned chagrinned. “I’m not kidding myself about how things worked out. My career is a testament to being at the right place at the right time. If it had all gone down a few years earlier, when we didn’t have cameras on our phones and access to an easy blog, I wouldn’t have been a blip. If I’d begun a few years later, after social media really took off, I’d have been lost in the crowd.”

  “But you did find the Mir. That counts for a lot.”

  He rolled his broad shoulders. “Think working the shrimper was easier. At the time I never knew anyone was even reading my blog. I’d only set it up so my parents would know I was still alive.”

  “So that’s why you began each post with those words.”

  “That day I found the Mir, it surprised the hell out of me to find dozens of people on the dock. Then came the agent, the book deal and a lead on another possible shipwreck. When I found that one—still mostly luck—they approached me about the show. You know Still Alive was the original title of the show.”

  Molly wrinkled her nose. “I’m glad they changed it.”

  “My mom asked me to. I don’t think she wanted to be reminded how I almost die on the daily.”

  Molly’s memories of her parents were faint. Mostly it was riding in the back of the car as they drove to Mimosa Key. They’d argue all the way out to Gram and Grandpa’s, so they could dump her off there. That way they were free to search for the jewel. Of course Molly had always known her grandparents’ love for her was limitless, but it didn’t stop her from yearning for what might have been. Cooper’s parents had taken him everywhere with them. Maybe if they’d allowed her to tag along, her parents would still be alive today.

  “The World Overton is the exact kind of life my parents would have loved to live.”

  Cooper clenched and unclenched his hands. “I didn’t realize how much I cared about the show until now. When I’m about to lose it.”

  His shocking words dragged her from the melancholy thoughts of her parents. Good! The past had no place right now. “What? Why?” she gasped.

  He fiddled with the edge of the blanket. “I used to plan every detail of The World Overton. Breathed, ate and slept TWO. I knew every person on the staff and production. Of course some said I was a little too involved.”

  “Would those be the people who call you unlikable?” she teased.

  He answered her with a low chuckle. “The very ones. But I do put in eighteen-hour days and I expected everyone around me, too. Then the show took off, and I was torn in about twelve different directions.”

  “And let things slip.”

  He nodded. “I’m not telling you this so you’ll think I’m making excuses. There aren’t any. I let the quality spiral down. I stopped putting in the same kind of time and attention. I stopped doing the research. The finds weren’t as great or as exciting, so…”

  “So?” she prompted.

  His handsome face grew into a scowl. “So, what’s supposed to be reality became more like scripted drama. Hell, pure fiction. Now there’s someone, a former production assistant, who’s threatening to expose me. Prove the show is fake, if I don’t pay him a lot of money.”

  “I’m assuming you didn’t give in.”

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve never been blackmailed before, but I doubt anyone who’d stoop to extortion would stop at their first taste of the money.”

  “So, you called their bluf
f. Good for you.”

  “Except now it looks like they’re making good on their threat.”

  Which explained why he was here. No production crew. No TV camera. Just a guy and a camera, although way more than a handful of cash. “Which is why you’ve gone back to how it all started.”

  He nodded. “I needed to prove that it’s all still real.”

  Sounded like he needed to prove that more to himself.

  He turned the full focus of his gaze on her. “Enough about me. I want to know something about you.”

  She lifted her shoulders. “What don’t you know? You’ve already heard the whole life story.”

  Something dark and wicked flared in his dark gaze. “That night we met, you were going skinny dipping, yes?”

  Molly grabbed the nearest plate and began stacking their used dishes to hide her shaking fingers. “Yeah.” Good, her voice sound breezy, like skinny-dipping in her own back yard was no big deal. Because it wasn’t. Or shouldn’t be.

  “But you called it. I heard you. Please tell me I didn’t interrupt your first time to get naked and splash in the waves.” His fingers traced a lazy pattern on the back of her hand, and chills raced down her arm. “You not getting naked would be a crime.”

  She sucked in a breath and met his gaze once more. “I’m guessing you’ve skinny-dipped hundreds of times.”

  “Hippy parents, remember?” He angled his head toward the shore. “So how about it?”

  “It’s not dark.”

  “I can wait.”

  Something strong and erotic punched to life inside her. Could she do it? Tug off her clothes? Loosen the ties of her top and let it fall to the ground? How would it feel to have his eyes on her breasts? You don’t need to wonder.

  Actually, she didn’t have to wonder. Her nipples would pucker as he stared. The skin of her arms would quiver with goose bumps. The hair on the back of her neck would tingle.

  Molly pressed her hand to her throat. “I believe that moment has passed. But I could do with a swim.” To cool off. She jumped to her feet and headed for the water, chucking her shorts and t-shirt as she neared the ocean. When she was waist deep, she peered over her shoulder at him. “Care to join me?”