Angels in Seashore Cove (Love and Laugh in Seashore Cove Book 2)

by Maggie Van Well

  Humph. She crossed her arms and leaned against the front door. “This is crazy. Shouldn’t we be able to walk through walls or something?”

  Time slowed and Angie experienced the odd sensation of falling through warm pulsating Jell-O. Before she had the chance to get truly frightened, time sped up again and she hit the ground with a muffled thump.

  Confused as to what just happened, she glanced around the dark space. With the help from the half-moon she made out a couch, tub chair, and coffee table. She’d fallen into a living room.

  Was this Dianna’s house? Did she just walk—or rather, fall—through solid wood?

  Climbing to her feet, Angie ran her hand over her face and hair. She sure felt solid enough. Movement caught her eye and she turned fully toward the front door. A finger wiggled through the wood. As she watched, another finger poked through, then an entire hand. Cautiously, she walked over, reaching out to touch it. Without warning, Jack’s head popped through. “I guess that answers your question.”

  Angie screamed.

  The rest of Jack’s body seeped through the door and he hurried to cover her mouth with his hand. “Shh! Do you want to wake the neighborhood?”

  She pushed him away. “You startled me!”

  “At this point, my dear, nothing should startle you.”

  A few cleansing breaths later her heartbeat returned to a normal pace. And the realization of what she had done finally sunk in. “This is so cool.”

  Jack chuckled. “So now that we’re in, what do we do?”

  “I don’t know.” Angie deliberated for a moment. Maybe she should’ve had a plan first, before she’d turned her and Jack into criminals.

  Of course it would’ve helped if Jack had let her read the instruction manual. He said he lost it. She suspected he hid it.

  Men!

  “Let’s go to her room and see what she’s doing.”

  Jack and Angie tiptoed down the hall to the first door on the right. Toilet, sink, and shower. Definitely not Dianna’s room. Thank God she wasn’t using it at the moment.

  Next was the door to the left. Jack opened it revealing shelves of linens. The next room looked like a cross between an office and an artist’s study. After that, she was pretty sure they’d found a guest room.

  Jack looked at Angie. She shrugged and moved to the last room at the end of the hall.

  She opened the door quietly and peeked into a very feminine bedroom. Dianna lay sleeping under a maroon, satin comforter, her arms wrapped around a matching pillow. Angie nodded for Jack to follow her inside.

  They stood at the foot of their charge’s bed, her partner swinging his arms back and forth. “Okay, so now what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So we’re just going to watch her sleep? And you don’t think that’s a little creepy?”

  He had a point. “Maybe if we knew what she was dreaming about.”

  The quiet room erupted into noise. Alarmed, Angie threw her hands over her ears. It took a moment for her to realize it wasn’t just racket, but jumbled thoughts in Dianna’s voice. “Do you hear that?”

  “You’re kidding, right? I think China can hear that.” Jack grimaced, his index fingers plugging his ears. “It’s going to wake her.”

  “I doubt it, but maybe there’s some way to turn it down?”

  Dianna’s dreams dimmed to a manageable volume.

  Jack slowly lowered his fingers. “Whew, that’s a relief.”

  “Can you make any sense of what she’s dreaming about?”

  He stared at the air. “I keep catching Sean and fight.”

  “Me too. And Sonia and—oh dear.”

  “Fucking bitch?” He lifted his mouth in a one-sided grin.

  “You didn’t have to say that, you know.” Angie listened further. “I think the reason we can’t make them out is because her thoughts are confused. It’s like even she can’t make heads or tails of them.”

  “You would know, Ms. Psychiatrist—oh, sorry Missus now.” Jack cupped her shoulders and turned her toward the door. “Well, c’mon. Maybe Sean will be less infuriating.”

  No such luck.

  When they arrived back at Sean’s house they had a much easier time getting in and searching him out, but his dreams were even more confusing than Dianna’s.

  “At least they’re dreaming about each other,” Angie concluded.

  “The problem is they can’t make up their own minds. They need some direction. And we need to be the traffic cops.”

  “Won’t that be interfering with their free will?”

  “Sometimes the path to true love needs a thorough cleaning.”

  Angie turned to him befuddled. “What in God’s name does that mean?”

  “I was trying to be poetic.”

  “Ha! Men don’t say things like that.”

  Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “I know a few poets who would argue otherwise.”

  “Maybe you should leave the wordsmithing to me.”

  “Then you leave the planning to me.”

  “Why? I think this is working out just fine.”

  “We’re breaking the law!”

  “Ha! Like your idea was so great,” Angie said. “I’m the one who had to get lost, I’m the one who had the flat tire, and I’m the one who had to sit and wait for you.”

  “It had to be that way. Sean never would’ve believed a man would get lost and I certainly would’ve known how to change a tire.”

  “Ugh! You are such a male chauvinist.”

  “And you’re a pain in my—”

  Sean groaned and turned over in his sleep.

  Angie glared at Jack. “Look what you did!”

  “What I did? You were the one shrieking like a banshee, Angelica.”

  Fury erupted inside her and she turned an accusing finger at him. “Don’t ever call me that! You know I can’t stand that name.”

  Jack stalked out of Sean’s room and down the stairs. “I can still push your buttons.”

  “I’m going to push you in a minute.” She hurried behind him.

  “Oh, I bet you’d love that too, wouldn’t you?” He let out a long sigh. “Let’s stop arguing. We only have a little while before they wake up and we have to go chasing after them again.”

  “Okay.” Angie willed herself to calm down, knowing Jack was right. “Looks like we’re going back to the beach in a few hours.”

  Chapter Six

  THE DOORBELL RESPONDED in synchronized rhythm to Sean’s repeated pushing of its button. Without messing up the tempo, he reached for his cell phone and checked the time again. 9:06. Dianna should be ready by now.

  “What the hell, Sean?” Tucker called from the backseat of the charcoal gray Land Rover idling in Dianna’s driveway. “Just go in and get her. You walk in every other time.”

  Sean faced him, still pressing the doorbell. His brother leaned out of the back window, glaring. Dianna’s brothers, Derek and Patrick were in the front, their brows raised in question.

  “Not in the mornings. I always text first. She has yet to answer the one I sent when we were pulling up the street. What if she’s in the shower?”

  Tucker grinned. “What’s your point?”

  “Touché, my brother.” He faced the door again. If she didn’t answer in the next few seconds, he’d do just that. Text or no text.

  She’d never been a morning person, but this was ridiculous. He’d gotten about as much sleep as she had, probably less and he was up and ready to roll.

  Even though last night had been weird.

  He wasn’t sure whether it was the baffling and hazy images of Dianna constantly invading his dreams. Or the shouting voices he swore he’d heard.

  The door violently swung open. Dianna stood there in a plush white robe she’d had since freshman year in high school, glaring at him. Her hair a mass of golden frizz, haphazardly twisted into a long braid that hung over her right shoulder.

  He bit his lip to keep from laughing.

&nbs
p; “Ring that doorbell again and I swear you’ll die young.”

  “You’re not dressed yet?” Sean turned to yell to the guys. “She’s not dressed yet!”

  A chorus of groans followed.

  “I am dressed,” she replied. “For bed, which is where I’m going.” She turned and lumbered back toward her room.

  Sean entered before the door closed completely. “We’re supposed to go to the beach, remember?”

  Dianna stopped and turned to him. Her eyes lost focus and she swayed.

  “Princess!” Sean ran forward, wrapping his arms around her before she fell. “Jeez, you’ve had six hours sleep.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not a weirdo like you.” She yawned and grabbed onto his shoulders, pulling herself upright. “I need at least nine, plus, I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Thinking things would move faster if he took control, Sean threw her over his shoulder and headed down the hall to her room, not stopping until he reached the foot of her bed. “C’mon.” He landed a quick smack to her ass. “We need to get going.”

  She didn’t budge or try to hop down.

  “Dianna?”

  “This is surprisingly comfortable. We should stay this way.”

  With a grunt of annoyance, he tossed her onto her bed. “The guys are waiting.”

  “Just what I need.” She flipped onto her stomach and hugged her pillow. “To spend the day with four obnoxious men.”

  “This was your idea. One last hurrah before summer ended.”

  No response, save for the steady breathing.

  “Dianna, are you sleeping?”

  “I would be, but I have this annoying voice in my head.”

  Sean rolled her onto her back and sat her up. “You need to focus.”

  When he was confident she wouldn’t fall over, he went to her dresser and searched the top drawer.

  A mass of silk and lace. Nope, time to move on from this one.

  He pulled at the second drawer.

  Typical. No rhyme or reason. He had to search through sweaters, blouses that really should be hanging in her closet, and skirts before he came across her stash of bathing suits. He tossed a fuchsia and white polka dot bikini at her. “Here, wear this.”

  She looked at the two pieces of fabric he offered and shook her head. “I don’t think so. Remember what Tucker did the last time I wore that?”

  No, but he could guess. Knowing his brother, he hugged her and somehow, her strings accidently came undone. Searching further, he found a black one-piece. “How about this one?”

  She nodded—or swayed—he wasn’t sure, and reached for her suit. He swore if anyone could sleep on her feet, it would be Dianna.

  “Good, put it on.” Back at her dresser, he had to rearrange clothing in order to get the drawer closed.

  When he was finished, he turned and then the air left his lungs.

  Standing, her eyes closed, Dianna let the ratty old robe slip down her shoulders to reveal a royal blue, lace-top negligee that molded itself to her full breasts like plastic wrap over a hot soufflé.

  His heart raced out of control. His eyes weren’t cooperating much either. Try as he might, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the way the silk hugged her every curve, right down to her ankles. “Di-Dianna, what are you doing?”

  She opened one eye and peeked at him. “I’m getting dressed—oh, yeah, you should probably leave.”

  No fucking kidding!

  Sean marched on shaky legs down the hall, through the living room, and out the door. He paced her front yard, taking deep breaths trying to rid himself of the image of his best friend in her nightgown.

  Dianna had always been a little unpredictable when she slept, as strange as that sounded. Every year his parents hosted a retreat at their upstate mountain home when fall was at its peak. Sean had lost count of the times he’d woken up to find her in his bed with no idea how she’d gotten there. They eventually concluded she did it whenever they had an overnight thunderstorm. Why she chose him to settle her unconscious fear and not her brothers or a parent was anyone’s guess.

  It never bothered him, except that he had to wear pajamas to bed instead of sleeping in the buff, like he normally did. Dianna usually slept in lounge pants and a t-shirt.

  Not a sexy nightgown that coaxed the imagination.

  After a few minutes, Tucker poked his head out the car window again. “Dude, it’s going on nine-fifteen. Where is she?”

  “Dressing.” He glanced toward the open front door and saw no evidence of movement. “Or she fell back asleep.”

  Tucker pushed his door open. “I’ll go check.”

  “No, you won’t.” For some reason, the idea of his brother seeing what he had a few moments ago rubbed him the wrong way. “I’ll go.”

  Sean returned to the house, slamming the door and knocking on the walls as he inched his way down the hall. “Okay, here I come! I’m on my way. Dianna?”

  The fact that there was no response didn’t bode well. What if she started to undress and stopped halfway through? What if she lay naked, sprawled out on her bed, sleeping without a care in the world?

  Life in general around Dianna was volatile, but he’d never worried about finding her naked before.

  He stood outside her door. “Princess?”

  No answer.

  With a gulp, Sean peeked around the doorframe, and let out a sigh of relief. Well, at least she was in her bathing suit, her cover-up loosely tied at the waist, flip-flops on her feet.

  He stood beside the bed and pulled her up. “Come on, our brothers are waiting.”

  Dianna groaned and got to her feet. She grabbed her tote and meandered down the hall. “Can you get the activity bag?”

  Sean was happy to oblige. Anything to get away from the sudden interest he had of her in her sleepwear. Which had been haphazardly tossed on the floor, left in a puddle of silk and lace.

  Right where it would be if he’d removed it himself.

  Fuck!

  Once the duffle bag was stowed in the trunk along with the umbrella, chairs, cooler, and other beach bags, Sean slid into the back seat, sandwiching Dianna between himself and Tucker. As soon as the seatbelt clicked, she laid her head on his shoulder and went back to sleep.

  Again, typical. He’d always somehow ended up being her own personal pillow whenever she fell asleep outside her own bed. He was used to it, but—wait…did she change her shampoo? He didn’t remember her ever having this soft herbal scent before. Damn, it smelled good.

  Resting his cheek against the top of her hair, he figured he might as well catch a few z’s too, since he hadn’t—had her hair always been this soft?

  Sean fought the urge to bury his nose in the silky waves and kiss the top of her head. Instead he sat up and inched as far away from her as he could.

  Was this because he saw her in her nightgown? Yeah, that was it. He would just keep telling himself that and after a while, he’d forget about how it molded itself to every inch of her body. He needed to get his mind off this. Trying not to disturb Dianna, he wiggled his cell phone out of his pocket and focused on a game of Fruit Ninja.

  Dianna slept all the way to Trisha and Josh’s house. Performed a perfect zombie impression as they walked onto her cousins’ private beach. She actually helped them arrange the blankets, chairs and umbrella, then, with her sunglasses and bathing suit cover-up in place, lay down and zonked out once a-friggin-gain. Not that he could blame her. The air at the beach was warm with a soft, cool breeze perfect for lounging. The sun rose in the sky and the air smelled fresh, with the occasional whiff of coconut-scented sunscreen.

  Sean turned toward his brother. “She’s going to be loads of fun today.”

  Tucker offered a wicked grin. “Maybe, more than usual.”

  Pulling his shirt over his head, he searched through his bag for the sunblock. “Let’s set up the volleyball net. Maybe by then she’ll be awake.”

  Ha!

  Derek, Patrick, Sean, and Tucker pl
ayed two games of volleyball while Dianna slept.

  Since it was a private beach, Sean knew most of the people who happened by, at least casually. Trisha and Josh shared the coastline with their neighbors. By sunset everyone headed back to his or her respective properties. Which really made for an interesting evening if one of the neighbors had hot female visitors.

  After the second game, Sean grabbed a towel and a bottle of water. He mopped the sweat from his face and chugged the cool liquid. Late summer or not, it was still pretty warm. Soon they wouldn’t be able to lie on the sand and soak up the sun without jackets on.

  And Dianna slept through it all.

  Tossing down his towel and empty bottle, he fisted his hands at his hips. Okay, eight hours was enough sleep for anyone. Time to wake Her Highness up.

  “I’ll be right back, guys. I have some things to get from the cabana,” Sean called to the other men as he headed back toward the house.

  Trudging over the dunes and through the path between the thickets of short bushes surrounding the property, he walked around the patio that surrounded the in-ground pool over to the beach house. The space was comfortable, with a sitting area, kitchenette, changing cubicles, and bathroom with two stall showers. But Sean wasn’t interested in relaxing just yet. He was on a mission.

  Searching for the beach toys Josh and Trisha kept on hand for visiting children to play with, he came upon a small plastic bucket, perfect for holding sand.

  But sand wasn’t what he had in mind.

  Whistling The Beach Boy’s song, “Kokomo,” he headed back across the property, over the dunes and right for the Atlantic Ocean.

  He dipped a foot in the water. Not freezing, but still cold enough to cause some shrinkage. The summer had been so hot and humid he’d expected it to feel like bath water.

  Sean waded in until the water lapped at his shins and dipped the bucket into the sea. Then he turned and zeroed in on Dianna, heading toward her as she slept. Derek and Patrick were sitting next to her, but as soon as they saw him approach they quietly crab-walked away with a couple of conniving grins.

  Huh, so much for her overprotective brothers.

  Never taking his eyes from his target, he moved in.