Locke was out past the breakers when the first big wave of the morning came into view. He kept his eye on it as it rolled toward him, then turned and started paddling into position until it lifted him up, carrying him along the swell as it barreled toward the beach.

For one glorious minute there was nothing but the board under his feet, the roar of the water in his ears, the tunnel at his shoulder. He dove off before it could carry him too close to shore and started paddling back out. When he got into position he sat up, his legs dangling on either side of the board. The water was cool, the rhythm of the waves lapping against the board soothing.

It had been a quiet morning on the water, most of the waves small and easy. It was the kind of day that would have novices out practicing in droves, and while he wished them well, he was grateful for the private cove that enabled him to surf alone with his thoughts. Not that there had been many of them since his date with Elle last night.

They’d all revolved around her.

The way she’d looked in the glow of the lights over dinner. The fragile softness of her hand in his. The lusciousness of her lips, opening like the flowers he’d sent to the store and every bit as soft. The need had risen in him like a wild animal. He’d almost been relieved when she stepped away. She’d always been the reasonable one.

But it was too late. He already wanted her, and he’d already felt her body respond to him in kind. Had felt the urgency with which she’d pressed her body to his. Had known she would be wet for him if he slid his fingers inside her.

His cock hardened inside the wetsuit, and he forced himself to think of something else, namely Malcolm Glover.

His background on the businessman was proving even more interesting than he’d expected. Glover was into some shady shit, and Locke was more than a little surprised he hadn’t already been called out for some of his dealings. He’d left his last position at EnerCom suddenly and under questionable circumstances, although the official press release had stated the decision was mutual so Glover could “pursue other opportunities.”

The sudden departure wouldn’t have seemed abnormal if not for all the other details Locke had uncovered — the liquidation of assets, the house in Mexico, the new position at Bolton’s that while prestigious from the outside, was a big step down from a blue-chip company like EnerCom.

Locke’s instincts had been honed through years of dealing with people like Glover. People who had something to hide. People who were good at hiding it. And his instincts told him something was coming. Something besides the stuff he already had on the asshole.

The question was what to do about it. The guy still had significant financial holdings, but something told Locke they weren’t the bulk of Glover’s assets. The stocks, bonds, and commodities he’d been liquidating hadn’t been reinvested into anything Locke had been able to trace, but it didn’t disappear into thin air either. That meant Glover either had a hell of a lot of cash stowed away or he’d invested it privately.

And Locke had his bets on the cash.

The idea appealed to him. More and more of their work was digital — the commanding of funds and information to shut down criminals who had somehow circumvented the law at the expense of society. It had been a relief after the shooting at United Bank and Trust last year, an incident that still haunted him.

Colton had put in a word for the guy with the trigger finger, but that was no excuse. It was Locke’s operation. The safety of his team and everyone else was on him.

He looked out over the water, watching as another set rolled toward him. Not a day went by that he didn’t think about the dead guard. It didn’t matter that the man had been diagnosed with terminal cancer two months before the shooting. It also didn’t matter that Locke had set up an annuity for the man’s retired widow. That was Locke’s duty, and doing his duty didn’t make up for his part in the death of her husband.

Neither did the fact that he’d called Farrell Black to exact his own justice on the guy who pulled the trigger.

But it was all he could do.

Colton had been torn up about it. He thought he’d known the guy well enough to vouch for him. The fact that he’d been wrong wasn’t something he would forgive himself for soon. Maybe not ever. He’d even left the organization, although he’d come back in the end.

They all had demons to slay.

The focus on digital operations had given them time to process what had happened at United Bank, and it had given Locke time to fine-tune his team. But he was ready for something tangible again. Ready to have something in his hands representing all the damage Glover had done, to give it back to the people who’d suffered at his hands.

People like Elle, who would probably lose her business.

The thought of her was all it took to bring her back in living color. Suddenly she was pressed against him, her silky cheek under his thumb, her exquisite mouth hot and urgent under his.

He replayed the expression on her face when he’d asked about the second date. Tried to analyze it for the hundredth time. Had it been his imagination that there had been a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth? That her eyes had been feverish with the same need to see him again that had been roaring through his body when they’d kissed?

He didn’t know. But he’d sent a complete set of vintage Nancy Drew mysteries with a note asking to see her again.

Time would tell.