The Boathouse (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 14)

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The Boathouse (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 14) Page 12

by Vickie McKeehan


  Thirty minutes later, she heard the doorbell ring. Anticipation ran through her body. She felt wired. Moving to the front room, she looked through the peephole. A smile broke out on her face. The minute she opened the door, without a word spoken between them, Tucker gathered her up in his arms. His mouth found hers. There was no chitchat or prelude to the event. The dive into each other was simple and quick.

  She made the first move by tugging at his belt, slipped it out of the loops in one rip. He ran his hands underneath her dress, found flesh. His long fingers cupped her butt as they stumbled toward the bedroom. He used the hallway to get her out of her dress, unzipping the back. She stepped out of it, letting her best outfit puddle around her feet, and reached for his pants.

  They lost the clothes and shoes and bumped against the wall. In their rush to get at each other, they stumbled, almost fell.

  But the goal was clear.

  He wanted to feel those firm, round breasts, take advantage of her sleek, yoga-practicing body. He had a fierce need to hook his fingers through all that sun-kissed hair, kiss his way down her body, explore that mouth, run his hands along her soft thighs.

  They tumbled to the mattress like two roaring trains heading toward the crash, the explosion.

  Mouths ravaged, devoured—sparked heat. Fueled by need, their bodies wrestled, burning to feel more.

  She ran her fingertips across his shoulders, felt lean muscle, hard man. All Bodie could think about was the fever pitch rising, the sheer desire, the pull that clawed its way every time he used his tongue. She felt the pace slow as he savored every angle, every shape, every slick part of skin.

  Restraint was no longer an option. She yearned for everything that was to come after.

  There was a smooth glide into paradise before lightning struck fast. She felt herself let go and float beneath the silky canopy of his body. Gliding through the pleasure, she entered the rest of the flame. Like a flash fire, the orgasm curled out of her.

  Sweet emotion had her arching her back, urging him to take.

  Tangled as one—in sync and rhythm—they climbed. Like an impassioned ride, they reached the peak. When the world at the top shifted, they could only hang on, braced for the satiny stretch to finish.

  Winded, he breathed out, “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you.”

  She looped her arms around his neck. “At the boathouse?”

  He grinned. “No, I saw you at the store picking out that drill.”

  She sputtered with laughter. “I knew it. You stalked me to the boathouse.”

  “Maybe,” he admitted as he rolled to one side of the bed. His head fell back onto the pillows. “Something smells delicious.”

  “My casserole!” Bodie shouted as she sat straight up. “It’ll burn for sure.”

  He pulled her back down and into his arms. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll eat baloney sandwiches if we have to.”

  She made a face and poked him in the ribs with her finger. “I don’t like baloney. Besides, I have to get up at some point and put on the noodles. And pick up our clothes.”

  He folded an arm behind his head, relaxed. “You looked amazing, by the way. You looked good enough to eat when you opened that door. I couldn’t resist.”

  She used her fingers to walk up his chest, straight to his mouth. “I’m glad. You didn’t resist, that is. That was my sneaky plan inviting you over here for dinner.”

  His body vibrated with laughter. “I knew it. You wanted me in your web.”

  “Yep. That’s me.” She planted a kiss on his lips right before pivoting to get out of bed. She grabbed a robe from the closet, tied the belt.

  “Stop. Right. There. Is that a tattoo on your hip?”

  She held open the robe enough to expose her right butt-cheek. “You mean my tiny blue dolphin? You like?”

  “I love. How did I miss that?”

  “As I recall, you were a little too busy relishing other parts to notice.”

  “As I recall, you didn’t seem to mind.”

  “Not a bit. Look, I’m going to maneuver through our mess of clothes to the kitchen. I’m starving. That skimpy lunch is wearing off.”

  “Those tortilla rollups were good, though. But I smell some delicious kind of beef.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows up and down. “You pick up the clothes, and I’ll take care of the food. Then we’ll think about a repeat.”

  “I like a woman who plans ahead.”

  Thirty minutes later, she poured wine into glasses and then dished out meat and vegetables onto a bright orange plate for Tucker. “There you go. Enjoy.”

  Tucker wore his pants and had put his shirt back on but hadn’t bothered to button up. There was no hardship involved in staring at the man’s bare chest.

  She watched as he sniffed the air and picked up his fork. “Smells delicious. But you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. You even cooked meat.”

  “We’ve been through this. I often make this dish when family comes to visit. Speaking of which, Loire is thinking about coming out to see me next month at the end of July before school starts.”

  “Maybe we could show her around and do something cool, go sightseeing or something. Has she been here before?”

  “Briefly. She helped me move in but had to go back to Tucson a few days later because of a school thing. She likes the area. This time I think she wants to get out of the desert heat and enjoy the beach.”

  He noticed she’d started picking out the beef chunks and pushing them to the side of her plate. “Next time, you don’t have to add the meat. I’m fine with the potatoes and carrots and the noodles.”

  “Without the meat, there’s no gravy,” she explained with a sly grin. “And besides, I promise I won’t burst into flames if my veggies touch a beef product. I won’t. I’m not like that.”

  He stayed quiet for the rest of the meal as they both ate in silence. When he pushed back his plate, he stared over at her. “I booked a flight for Florida. I leave tomorrow afternoon.”

  “What? When did that happen?”

  “I talked to Brent before I got here. He’s the one who suggested I might want to confront my dad. After all, why spend days, weeks, months, speculating, driving myself crazy about why my parents lied? Why not just ask the only one remaining alive before he decides to clam up for good and never tell me?”

  “Okay, but what about the store?”

  “I talked it over with Owen and Matty. The guys have agreed to longer hours. Logan said he could handle acting as manager on Tuesday afternoons and all day on Wednesday. I lined up Archer Gates to fill in for me on Thursday and Friday. With all of them, I think I’ve got it covered. I’m planning to be back by Friday night anyway. But I was wondering if you’d watch Lago for me.”

  “Sure. But what about him left alone all day? Isn’t that a problem?”

  “We could put in a doggie door. I’m pretty sure I have one in stock at the store.”

  “But this is a rental. Would I need permission from Logan to install something like that?”

  “Maybe. How about this? You could drop Lago off at home in the morning, leave him there during the day where he can use the doggie door like he always does, then pick him up whenever you get off work, bring him home with you at night. That would work.”

  “Sure. I’d be happy to look in on him during the day in between jobs. I’ll try to finish up at the Diner by two or three and then head to one of my cleaning projects earlier than usual. If I tell Margie not to give me any double shifts, I’d have my entire evenings free to spend with Lago.”

  “Thanks. I know it’s a pain to change up your schedule, but I appreciate it.”

  “I don’t mind. I get tired of working the morning shift and then going back to work the dinner rush. I’ll just explain the circumstances to Margie. She’ll be fine for a few days.” She took a sip of wine. “Are you nervous about seeing your father?”

  “Nervous is an understatement.”

  “W
hat will you say?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I have plenty of time to write up my speech on the plane, though.”

  “And worry about it tonight.”

  “Nope. Tonight, it’s you and me.”

  “I have a crazy idea. Why don’t we go fetch Lago and take him for a walk on the beach?”

  “The downside to that is you’d have to get dressed, and I like seeing you wearing that robe and know you have nothing on underneath.”

  “If you’re very good, you’ll get to see me out of the robe again.”

  He walked his fingers up her arm before lifting her hand to kiss the palm. “Say the word, tell me what I have to do to make that happen.”

  Under the table, she began to rub his leg using her foot. “If you can’t figure that out…”

  He didn’t let her finish before he scooped her up and carried her back down the hallway for an encore performance.

  Lago was ready to run as far along the sand as land would allow. But the goofball pup did not like the water. Getting his paws wet seemed to make him go a little crazy. He darted back and forth, pawing at the waterline, trying to get it to leave him alone.

  The trick was to keep Lago distracted. They took turns tossing a Frisbee until they wore him out. After an hour of exercise, the puppy reached his limit and simply dropped down on the sand, refusing to chase the disc.

  “He’s a smart one,” Bodie noted. “He knows when to call it quits.”

  “How about some ice cream?” Tucker asked. “Longboard’s Pizza has soft-serve cones.”

  “I have ice cream at the house. We could make sundaes, piled high with whipped cream and nuts.”

  It filled Tucker’s heart that she was so down to earth. Clipping Lago’s leash back in place, he swung an arm around her shoulder. “What’s your favorite memory as a kid?”

  “Just one?”

  “Yep.”

  “Probably going to San Diego with my family for spring break. After spending a week playing at the beach, I went home wishing I would someday get to live by the ocean.”

  “Really? And now, here you are.”

  Bodie’s eyes tracked to the boathouse, where a team of forensic techs was still working on extracting the bones. The sadness came over her, too quick to force it back. “Who would do such a thing? Stuffing bodies into concrete borders on moblike mentality.”

  “That’s been bothering me as well. When I spoke to Brent earlier, I mentioned the last time any attempt to shore up the pilings occurred was back in 1985. It’s part of the planning commission’s official record. But it was information Brent didn’t have.”

  “You’re saying that those bones have been there since 1985?”

  “I’m saying, it’s the last time anyone worked on the pilings. It’s not like they get taken apart every decade.”

  “My God. Do you realize there’s probably family out there who’s spent years wondering what happened to their loved ones?”

  “It’s crossed my mind. What with finding out about Tessie, it makes me wonder what other secrets are floating around this town from three decades back.”

  Realization of what he was saying made her stop walking. “The killer could still live around here.”

  “Exactly. I’m not trying to scare you—”

  She picked up her pace. “You’re not. Well, maybe a little, but it’s the reality of the situation. How would a random killer know to place bodies in a concrete pillar unless he was part of the work crew?”

  Now, it was Tucker’s turn to come to a stop. “You’re right. If we could track down who worked on the project back then, it would be a place to start.”

  “Wait a minute. Isn’t that Brent’s job? He doesn’t strike me as someone who puts up with anyone else meddling in his investigations.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. But I’ll mention it to him anyway.”

  A little before nine, they watched the sun go down over the bay, and made it back to Bodie’s house for hot fudge sundaes. In the kitchen, they set out the vanilla ice cream to melt, then sprinkled the scoops with chopped nuts and piled it high with Reddi-Wip®.

  The lovely summer evening drew them outside with their bowls to eat their creations in the courtyard surrounded by Bodie’s plants. She took a seat at the little ice cream table she used to sit out here and read.

  “This is better than cones,” Tucker remarked as he dipped his spoon into the chocolate sauce.

  Feeling relaxed around him even after their two bouts of sex, she leaned back in her chair. “Other than my kitchen, this is my favorite part of the house. I’ve never had a backyard before, well, not as an adult. I’ve always lived in apartments. This gives me the room to try my hand at growing herbs and dabble with other kinds of outside plants.”

  “Is that what you want to do, start a garden?”

  “Caleb and Hannah said they’d show me how to make a raised bed out of scrap lumber.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Really? You know about that sort of thing?”

  “I may not know about plants, but I do know about DIY projects. That includes building stuff out of leftover lumber.”

  She sputtered with laughter. “Okay. I had that coming. Of course, you do.”

  “Why haven’t you built them before now?”

  “Honestly? I wasn’t sure about renting and putting in flower beds, dealing with the landlord thing. But Hannah told me not to worry about Logan.”

  “She’s right. It’s a nice space with lots of bright light. I think you should do it. When I get back from Florida, we should do it together.”

  “Really? When? We both work practically non-stop.”

  “I’ve been thinking about extending my weekday help to the weekend. Novah could use the extra hours. That would free up my time.”

  “I have a gap in my Saturday afternoons before I start my shift at The Plant Habitat.”

  He picked up her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll work it out.”

  “I think I might miss you while you’re gone.”

  It warmed his heart to hear it. “I’m not sure how long it’s been since anyone missed me. Probably years.”

  “Same for me. Are you spending the night? Because I should mention that I get up at five to be at the Diner by six. It’s a hurry-out-the-door kind of rush. I usually don’t even bother eating or making coffee. I grab a few bites of toast at the restaurant.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll head home. You probably need your sleep.”

  “After this evening, I won’t argue with that or persuade you to stay. Thanks for making my day off considerably better than all the others.”

  “Thanks for making a boring Monday night feel special.”

  Lago stared at them with his big, brown eyes, finally choosing to rest his head in Bodie’s lap.

  She threw her arms around the puppy to hug him. “The two of us will get along fine without Tucker, won’t we?”

  Lago licked her hand.

  Tucker got to his feet. “I’ll help clean up.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take care of it along with the supper dishes. Go home and rest up for your…encounter. Practice your speech.”

  “Thanks for reminding me. It’s just as well we head home. I probably won’t sleep a wink thinking about confronting my dad.”

  “Maybe that’s your problem. Don’t think of it as a confrontation. Think of it as a fact-finding mission.”

  He grinned and brought her into his arms, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll try. But you don’t know my dad.”

  “No, but I know you. Try not to get worked up.”

  “I’m getting worked up right now.”

  She patted his chest. “Down, boy. You’re going home. And I plan to clean up the kitchen and head to bed.”

  “Come on, Lago. We have our marching orders. I need to give you a house key, so you’ll have access.”

  “I’ll try to stop by the store tomorrow before you head to the airport. How’s that sound?”

&
nbsp; “That’ll work. Or I’ll drop it off at the Diner during lunch.”

  She walked them to the door. “All kidding aside, try to keep your temper in check. Don’t lose it with him.”

  “Sound advice. But my father isn’t exactly the calm, collected type.”

  “You’re better than that. Show him who you are, a success, an adult who turned around the family business without his help.”

  “You should go with me.”

  “No, you’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  Bodie had no way of knowing that across town at that very moment, someone needed to alter history. He couldn’t sit around and wait for the bodies in the cement to track back to him. No, that couldn’t happen. He was already on the road to the airport taking the redeye out of Santa Cruz to the east coast. Using a passport under someone else’s name, he had loose ends that needed his attention.

  The silence had to go on, the secrets had to remain in the vault. Otherwise, everything would unravel. He should’ve taken care of a certain someone a long time ago. Now there was a rush to get it done. But in his haste, he couldn’t afford to get sloppy or make a mess.

  The rule was no witnesses left to talk, to tell the tale. He couldn’t leave anyone alive to fill in the blanks, not even at this late date. The ties didn’t need connecting. The ties needed severing at the source.

  Nine

  Tongues were wagging at the Diner.

  No one could talk about anything except the human remains at the boathouse. Even at six-thirty in the morning—over runny eggs and bacon—people were speculating about the victims. At every table Bodie served, she overheard the same conversation—why were the victims left in concrete?

 

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