The sound of slamming doors wakes me from the best sleep I’ve had in years. Jumping from the bed, my heart pounds in my chest, beating its way free.
He’s come for me.
Angry shouts reverberate through the walls as I take a breath, greedily pulling oxygen into my lungs. A vain attempt to calm my nerves. Wrapping my arms around myself, I tiptoe toward the door. Panic grips every cell in my body.
“Do you not understand how much is at stake here? If he weren’t enough of a problem, she is fucking wanted! Wanted, man! If he fucking found her, we both know it’s only a matter of time before they do too!”
Declan’s voice is seething. Knowing the voice is him and not the star of my own personal nightmare should be comforting but his words are not. They sink deep down inside, to my core. He’s right. If Mark can find me, so can they. I’m actually fucking surprised they didn’t find me first. But who is he talking to? More importantly, why are they talking about me? An uneasy feeling takes root in my stomach, but I tamper that emotion fast. Declan has already gone above and beyond to prove I can trust him. He put his career and life on the line. He sacrificed everything.
For me.
I start to step out into the hall, intent to find out what is going on when I realize I am naked. Buck naked. Memories of last night invade my thoughts and my face heats. We never even left the house and it was, hands down, the best date of my life. I didn’t even know men were capable of that level of romance. I spent the entire evening on the verge of tears. Happy tears. He treated me like a woman. A woman who deserves to be cherished. I can’t say I’ve been good enough in my life to deserve that feeling, but in that moment, I embraced everything Declan had to offer. I allowed myself to steal moments that couldn’t possibly be mine to take.
Looking through the massive windows, I allow the rolling blue waves to calm the war raging inside of me. Why can’t things ever be simple? All I want in life is to be happy. Maybe have a family. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, but the universe seems to think otherwise.
I can’t hide in here all day, moping about my life. I don’t have the right to complain about things I don’t like until I take the steps necessary to change it. Throwing on a comfy pair of denim cut off shorts and a t shirt, I sigh heavily, exhaling all the air from my lungs and fighting back the urge to crawl into a dark hole.
Gross. First, I need to brush my teeth.
His sour mood from yesterday seems to have lifted, slightly. It was Briggs who had called him yesterday morning. Declan’s boss has started to ask questions about his progress on the cartel case. Having been holed up with me, a wanted felon, he hasn’t been to “work” and he sure as hell can’t tell his actual boss why. Just being near him, I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. This case is important. Not only for his career, but a lot of lives could be at stake. He told me about the raid and the women no one expected. Beaten, starved, many dead. The picture he painted was vivid. One I don’t care to relive. But going back to the bar puts me at risk. Evidence of the internal turmoil that created played like a reel in the emerald depths of his eyes.
According to the news, the FBI claims no immediate knowledge of my location. That fact is unsettling. They are the FBI. How could they not find a woman who hasn’t even left the state? Mark managed to find me. None of the puzzle pieces fit.
“Let’s go surfing today,” Declan declares over a mouthful of bagel.
He’s staring out the window toward the crushing waves, he’s radiating a youthful eagerness that is hard to ignore. The excitement softens the harsh lines of his face, the brooding man from yesterday is nowhere to be found.
“S-sure, I’d love to.” Witnessing the joy wash over him prevents me from voicing my fears. Gripping my coffee mug tighter, I take a sip, willing it to give me courage.
I haven’t worn a swim suit publicly since I married Mark. Thoughts of donning a tiny piece of fabric sets off a new wave of nerves through my system. What about my scars? What if I’m not ready for the world to see them in the light? To put myself on display like that? Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that this is my life. The past needs to stay in the past and I will not deny myself a chance at life ever again.
“I don’t own a swim suit, so I’ll probably just watch,” I say, a little relieved that I won’t be going in the water.
“Like hell, you’re not. You’re going surfing with me, remember? I can assure you, you will not stay dry.” His lip quirks slightly at his innuendo. I try not to laugh but it’s a losing battle. The determined look in his mossy-colored eyes make his point very clear.
“I’d rather just watch, really.”
“Either you walk in or I carry you in. The choice is yours, Sunshine.”
Looking down at my clothing, I relent. I can wade around in my shorts. The fear gripping my chest loosens slightly, allowing me to breathe.
“I’ll walk.” I glare daggers at him across the table. My expression doesn’t even phase him as a wide smile spreads across his handsome face.
His eyes visually caress my legs as they slowly peruse my denim clad thighs.
“Hurry and finish your breakfast, we have shopping to do.” He has a spark in his eye. Confused, my eyebrows draw together. My confusion must be evident because he speaks before I am able to form words.
“While I refuse to argue about your ass in those shorts, wet denim is a terrible idea. I’m buying you appropriate surf apparel.”
I fail miserably to contain my smile and roll my eyes. His jovial tone loosens the vice of fear just a little more. But it’s still there.
“What? It’s for your own safety. It would be un-gentlemanly to let a lady chafe.”
His smile is infectious. This is the first time I have seen this side of his personality. The atmosphere around us is light and he seems almost giddy, like a little boy. I don’t know what warranted this change in his demeanor, but it is a welcome distraction. Tomorrow, we go back to the bar. Back to the real world.
Declan pushes me, albeit reluctantly, out to the Jeep. The moment the door slams closed, my heart picks up the same rhythm, beating wildly in my chest. I need to get a grip on my emotions. Being out in public holds more risk now than it did before. Before, I was aware that I could be recognized or that Mark could find me. Now I know he can find me.
Found me.
My breath hitches and my knuckles go white as I grip the edge of the seat. The familiar sting of anxiety begins to creep up my spine like hundreds of tiny spiders. The sensation gives me an overwhelming need to crawl out of my own skin.
A strong hand pulls my clammy hand from the seat, threading his fingers through mine. For a moment, he is silent, and I focus my energy on the ticking muscle in his jaw.
“He will have to kill me before I ever let him near you again.” He gently squeezes my hand, reinforcing his words. His words are meant to soothe me, but I don’t have the courage to tell him that’s exactly what I am afraid of.
He’s unpredictable. And smart. That’s why he’s dangerous.
“We are in a small community outside of the city. Most of the people here are retirees or families with vacation homes. Your chances of being recognized are slimmer here than in the city. Have faith in me.” His eyes meet mine and the plea I find there shatters my resistance. Remnants of fear remain curled up in a cozy little hole in the pit of my stomach. Despite that one string I can’t seem to cut, today is going to be a good day. Every day with Declan seems better than the last.
Gently taking hold of my arm, he leads me into a nearby surf shop. The décor is typical Miami beach—bright colors and hints of art deco design. I love it. I glance around the room, soaking up the vibes the shop emits when my eyes land on Declan. He’s watching me intently, his expression one I can’t pinpoint.
“This is really unnecessary,” I try once again, hoping he agrees with me. My plead does not have the desired effect since he is already halfway across the store headed toward a rack of woman’s bathing suits. Rolling my eyes with a small chuckle, I follow him.
As I make my way through the brightly colored fabrics that hang airily on the racks, he turns to face me. A panty melting seductive smile graces his face as he holds up a white halter style bikini.
“Oh, no, no, no. No,” I respond, reaching for a far more modest one piece.
Declan’s expression turns dark as he closes the distance between us. Holding my head with his free hand, he threads his fingers through my hair. The air between us crackles with a force I can only describe as electric. He lowers his mouth to mine, his lips firm with intent. His kiss is slow, unhurried. One meant to be savored. Pulling away all too soon, he rests his forehead against mine and whispers.
“Why do you doubt how beautiful you are?”
I can’t bring myself to look him in the eye. I don’t exactly know how I could possibly explain my fears.
“You can stand under an apple tree and pick up the most beautiful fallen fruit. But sometimes, the side you can’t see is ugly and bruised from the fall.”
Declan’s warm palm snakes under the hem of my shirt, his fingers leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps in their wake. My spine stiffens as his fingertips graze the shallow bumps and valleys that mar my skin.
“That’s the problem. You can’t bring yourself to actually see what is on the other side. All you see is a bad apple. But do you know what I see?”
I curtly shake my head in response, still refusing to meet his eyes. Words are impossible as I choke on the lump in my throat.
“I see a beautiful apple that grew where the sun shined. When it was ripe, it might have fallen, even bruised a little. But my mom always believed those make the sweetest pie.”
Declan lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his stare. His thumb catches a rogue tear that leaves a glistening trail on my cheek. For so long I’ve felt like a damaged woman. Declan somehow manages to make me feel like Mark didn’t steal part of who I am.
The intensity of the moment is too much. When I’m around him, every feeling is intensified. Every emotion. Every sensation. Inside, I can feel the metaphorical walls crumbling. I lean against a clothing rack, afraid that my legs might give out under the weight of the moment. I know I need to do this.
For me.
For my soul.
Still a bit hesitant, I take the scraps of clothing from his hand and stride on wobbly legs toward the dressing room. Once inside the safety of the cubicle, I place my palms against the wall and lower my head, taking a couple of deep breaths. With some separation between me and the man who is rapidly burrowing his way into my heart, I quickly undress and put on the terrifying article of clothing. Staring at the reflection before me, I want so badly to see myself the way Declan sees me. However, it doesn’t seem to matter how long I stare at myself, the image never changes.
“Ahem, I’m waiting,” he quips in a sing-song voice, clearly trying to bring back the earlier levity. I let out a loud huff, ensuring it’s loud enough so he hears, eliciting a low, throaty laugh from the other side of the door. Here goes nothing. Reaching for the door, I pull it back just enough. My whole body warms, and embarrassment further stains my cheeks, realizing my whole body is blushing. Fucking fair skin. When I finally muster the courage to look up, all playfulness is sucked from the moment as he simply stares at me motionless. I allow a few small moments to pass before it starts to feel awkward.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” I whisper to myself as I turn and pull the door. Declan is in my space faster than I can fully turn. He stands directly behind me and my eyes meet his in the dressing room mirror. Gently he places his hands on my hips, swallows harshly and leans into my ear.
“Leave it on,” he whispers as his hand moves up my torso and rips the tag off. He’s gone to pay before I manage to catch my breath, let alone gather the ability to protest.
His hands on my skin leave a trail of desire and I involuntarily clench my thighs to relieve the ache. Needing to escape the suffocating air in the cramped room, I quickly throw my clothes over the bathing suit and head out to meet Declan at his Jeep.
On the drive back to the beach house, my thoughts drift to the most important people in my life. Not being able to talk to Manny or Martha is crushing me and it’s hard not to worry. It’s even harder to refrain from calling them. I need to know my family is okay.
Declan steers the Jeep into the drive in the nick of time. My thoughts have dampened my mood and Declan has put a lot of effort into having a positive day.
“Sunshine, what’s wrong?” Declan’s voice invades my senses. I turn my face away just long enough to reign in my emotions.
“Absolutely nothing.” I smile. “Let’s do this.”
He can see right through my bullshit, but he lets me have my lie.
“Why don’t you go put your feet in the water and I’ll grab the stuff real quick,” he instructs.
“I can help carry.”
“I got it. Go relax for a minute. You’re going to need it.” With that, he gives me the smile that makes his dimple appear and runs off toward the house.
Yesterday’s phone call definitely killed my mood, breaking the spell Teagan’s presence and this beach house have over me. Tomorrow we go back to reality. I know how important this fucking case is but the thought of Teagan being out in public, possibly unprotected, has me feeling like a caged lion. So, I decided I was going to make sure today was all about fun and forgetting all the shit that waits for us once this little fantasy comes to an end. We could both use a light-hearted time.
Setting the surf boards and a basket with food and towels onto the powdery sand, I catch Teagan eyeing the boards with curiosity.
“I feel like I should have warned you sooner,” she says with an uncertain tone. “I’ve never surfed before.”
“Good,” I reply, letting a sly smile finish the thought.
I go over all the basics and give her tips and guidance as she practices with her board on the sand.
“I’m ready to hit the water. It’s getting hot out,” I say as I look out at the gentle waves. Perfect for a first timer.
“Um, okay.” She grabs her board and heads toward the water.
“What do you think you are doing?” I ask. She looks back at me, her face scrunched adorably, a little annoyed that I noticed she is still fully clothed. The distant look on her face tells me she is giving herself a pep talk. Something she does often. Apparently having worked out her hang up, she begins to disrobe.
About time.
I really wish she could see herself the way I do. Hell, the way the rest of the world sees her. She is a multifaceted diamond, yet she sees herself as just a rock. Realizing that I can’t stand here and ogle her all day like a creeper, I take my shirt and shoes off.
“I think I’m just going to sit on the board and wade around a bit,” she says as we mount the boards.
“Ok. You need to get comfortable with the board first anyway,” I reply with understanding.
“This is the first time I’ve ever swam in the ocean,” she says, catching me off guard.
“Well, I am very honored to be the one to pop your cherry,” I mouth off with an ear-to-ear grin. That was it for her and with the cutest mischievous look, she lunges for me. However, she didn’t count on the boards buoyancy, falling off it rather ungracefully and taking me with her. Completely submerged, she pops up laughing so hard she starts choking on the water. Luckily, I am still able to touch the bottom, the water comes to my chest. Teagan is a good foot shorter than me, so I reach out and pull her into me.
Her smile morphs from silly to seductive almost immediately. Tightening my arms around her torso, I can feel her eyes moving slowly from my chest to my lips. Everywhere her eyes touch, a tingling sensation lingers. As our eyes meet, the atmosphere shifts and all I can feel is the intensity of our connection. Her tongue snakes out, licking a bead of water from her bottom lip and I can no longer control myself. I press my lips to hers, greedily taking her bottom lip between my teeth. She meets me with equal fervor, moaning softly as her mouth opens fully for me. I devour every inch she gives me. My kisses, each more desperate than the last, move from her lips, across her jaw, and down the delicate skin of her neck. She wraps her legs around my waist, prompting my hands to roam downwards from her back to cradle her ass. I am painfully hard, wanting to be inside her desperately. I groan as she starts to grind herself against my throbbing erection, seeking the same sweet relief I am.
Her moans drag my lips back to hers, both so desperate that we are breathless when we finally separate. My hands caress every inch of available skin, wanting to touch everywhere all at once. In a frenzy once again, she tries to rub her core against me, seeking relief. Freeing one hand, I slip it under the soft fabric of her bottoms aiming for that sweet spot. I tentatively brush my thumb over her clit and she arches forward with a moan.
At that exact moment, some punk on a Jet Ski shoots by, dousing us with a wave of water and laughing as he speeds away. Cursing under my breath, I brush a clump of soaked hair from her face. She begins to laugh, the moment clearly over and despite the protest taking place in my shorts, I join in. Laughing harder than I have in years.
Fucking punk.