Chapter 6

Oh, my, yes.

His lips were firm, eliciting a light tingling that quickly deepened into a dark insistence she couldn’t ignore. Shock quickly gave way to pleasure, the dark, sweet rush going straight to her head before exploding through her entire body.

This was it. The very thing she’d been missing all her life. Passion.

She closed her eyes, determined to finally seize that which had never been within her grasp. She welcomed his arms as they folded around her, holding her captive, and then she felt it—a warm flush spreading across her cheeks, down her neck, and over the swell of her breasts. The flush turned into heat. The heat turned into fire. And the fire crept down her belly, lower, lower …

She gasped, and Val took that as an invitation to open her lips with his own. Willingly, she followed where he led. And she’d thought dancing with him had made her hot! Now, she was officially aflame.

He plundered the wet depths of her mouth as if it were his right, his experience evident with every flick of his warm tongue on hers. She craved more but couldn’t figure out how to tell him. One hand slid up the front of his open jacket and clutched the fabric of his shirt.

Hard muscles rippled under her fingers as he simply pulled her closer, his strong body enveloping hers as the rain fell hard onto the street and the awning—a roar of water echoing the sound of the blood rushing in her ears.

And as she reached for more, opened more fully to let him in, pressed against the length of him, she couldn’t help herself. She barely knew the man, had hardly even spoken to him, let alone considered kissing him. The liberties they were now taking were salacious. Shocking.

Sexy.

A novel prospect for her. If she’d known this was how she was going to feel, would she have declined his invitation to dance?

Deep in her bones, she knew the answer was no. From the moment she’d seen him—really seen him—she’d known he’d be like this.

When he used one of those big hands to gently cup her cheek, her breath hitched again. She was cognizant of his lips moving from her mouth to her neck, just below her ear. When he kissed her there, she shivered.

“You taste just like I thought you would, Cameron. Sweet.”

“Thank you,” she responded automatically, still in a haze.

“Always so polite,” he muttered, slowly pulling away. She opened her eyes. He was watching her with a studied, guarded expression.

“You make that sound like a bad thing. Should I apologize?”

“No. You are who you are.” For a moment, something flashed behind his gaze—regret, perhaps? Then he blinked and it was gone, replaced with his usual hawkish look. “Dinner with me on Thursday night. I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty.”

And then he was gone, back into the rain, his booted feet kicking up a splatter of raindrops as he swiftly ran through the downpour. She watched until he turned the corner. Her lips still tingled from where they’d touched his.

You are who you are. What did that even mean?

He seemed like he’d wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to hold her. He’d even asked—no, demanded—that she go out on a date with him. So why did he seem sorry about it?

Most guys would be thrilled to take her out. Of course, most guys who bothered to ask her out had already been hand-selected by her mother. Cameron sighed deeply. Val was the first man not of her family’s choosing to ask her out in as long as she could remember. But why should he feel remorse about it? He’d been such a gentleman, escorting her back to her shop, and then he’d kissed her with such heat …

Mixed messages didn’t sit well with her, but she didn’t have time to think about that now. She had so much work to do she could barely see straight. With a clear head, she vowed to concentrate on what she needed to do.

And to keep a dangerous man with wary eyes out of her mind.

What the hell was he thinking? He’d just kissed Cameron Stahl—taken what he wanted without asking. And she’d been so damned courteous about it, those big violet eyes gazing at him as if he’d done her a favor. He sprinted down Morse Avenue, trying not to overthink what had just happened.

He’d kissed her. And she’d kissed him back. A beautiful, intelligent woman had kissed him back.

Obviously, she liked him, too. So why wasn’t he happier about it?

Maybe because they were all wrong for each other in every possible way.

Val was well aware that women like Cameron Stahl dated men who owned yachts, not houseboats. Men whose hands were smooth, not rough from hand-to-hand combat. Men whose financial worth was in a different stratosphere from his. Sure, he was doing all right. He earned a good salary and had a sizeable nest egg put aside for emergencies, but he was the farthest thing from a trust fund kid.

He was at the boardwalk within a few moments, and a huge rumble of lightning greeted him as he hit the end of Mutterman’s Pier. Instead of running directly to his boat to dry off, something made him stop and turn. Dark, wet sheets of water came down on the harbor. And then he saw it: a crack of brilliant lightning that lit up the sky, another following almost immediately after. It was close, maybe a mile offshore. The storm was magnificent in its splendor.

For a moment, he simply stared. Then, slowly, he walked down to the far end of the pier, his eyes on the water the entire way. Torrents of rain lashed him, running down his neck, seeping into his clothing, and soaking him to the bone, but it felt good. Cleansing.

He’d never leave this little town. No matter where his job took him, he’d always come back here. Star Harbor was thick with memories—of his youth, his brothers and his parents. His dad would have loved this storm. He’d been fearless out of necessity, riding out storm after storm to earn his living fishing, until his luck had finally run out on that fateful Labor Day weekend.

Whenever he thought about his father, Val got introspective. He was fifteen when he lost his dad, and he had to grow up pretty damn fast after that, stepping up wherever and whenever he could. With four rowdy boys to raise, his mom couldn’t do it alone.

His mom. He’d gotten her eyes, along with her disposition. Cool and calm, she’d always tried to help, to make things right up to the day she died.

Exactly like he did.

It was well past the time when he and his brothers should have moved on from their assigned family roles. They’d still been boys back then. Now, they were men. But he was still doing it. Still approaching everything with caution. Still fixing everyone’s problems. Still focusing on everyone but himself.

When he saw that woman, all soft curves and gentle heat, he hadn’t stopped to think about what problem he needed to fix, or how he could help. All he thought about was how beautiful she was with her hair dampened from the summer rain. And the way she looked up at him with those luminous eyes. A man could get lost in them.

Only Cameron Stahl could look more amazing half-drowned and huddled under a hardware store awning than she could with fancy hair and sparkling diamond earrings at a society awards function. Today, he hadn’t considered her wealth or prestige or how she was way, way out of his league. The only thing running through his mind was how very right she felt in his arms when they danced, and how she felt even better when he kissed her.

He was a hardworking man, but when it came to women, he usually didn’t have to try too hard to get what he wanted. And every cell in his body was screaming that he wanted Cameron. But he still had doubts. He shouldn’t want someone like her. She was too rich, too cultured—too everything that he wasn’t. And the way she looked at him? With curiosity and awareness and something more.

No, his brain had said. She’s not for you. He’d learned young that rich women with big yachts and expensive diamonds were temptations best ignored. Townies were only curiosities to them, and he and his brothers kept far away from the pricey boats that sometimes docked in Star Harbor. But when he helped Cameron get back to her boutique and she pressed herself to him, wrapped her elegant little hand around his waist to stay dry under the umbrella, he just couldn’t resist.

He asked her out, partly for her and partly for himself, just to show her that he was man enough to do it. And then he kissed her. For him. And damn, it had felt good. Though in the back of his mind he knew he still shouldn’t want it—want her—he’d do it all again. In a heartbeat.

Even if he knew that their being together was a short-lived dream.

Because deep down, he knew she was from a different world. And a woman like her could never be happy with a man like him. At least, not for long.

Val finally got back to his boat, the beat-up old houseboat he called home at least part of the time. At one point or another, each of his brothers had lived with him on the vessel, and as cramped as the quarters were, at least he’d had company. Now, whenever Seb was in town he was at Lexie’s place, Theo and Avery had just purchased a place of their own—a little cabin in the woods—and Cole was staying with Julie at her house out on the bluff. Experiencing a twinge of sadness that the boat was empty, he went down into his cabin to change. Peeling off his wet things, he set them over a clothesline he’d rigged in the tiny bathroom.

After he was dry and changed, he threw on the only rain jacket he could find, a thick, lined affair that was more suitable for fall than for summer. He removed his laptop from the safe in which he stored it, put it into a waterproof carryall, and tucked it under the jacket. Now fully armed for the weather, he stepped off his boat and walked down the boardwalk until he hit Main, then turned left and walked away from the harbor. The rain was still pouring, but not as hard as it had been coming down a few minutes earlier.

He could just as easily have worked on his boat—he had a secure wi-fi connection and a comfortable workspace—but he wanted to check in with his brother. Not only would he be able to give Cole the latest information on the prescription drug sting operation he and the Sheriff’s Department were conducting, but he could clue him in that bigger forces were at play. Plus, he wanted some hot coffee. He could have gotten it at the LMK, but he wasn’t really in the mood to be scrutinized by any Star Harborians. In good time, he made it to the Sheriff’s Department.

“Hey, Rhonda Lee,” Val said by way of greeting as soon as he crossed the threshold.

“Val Grayson,” the woman said with a huge smile. “Always a pleasure to see you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Val said, returning her smile. Rhonda Lee Petrelli was Cole’s secretary and dispatcher, and though her poufy blond halo of hair and lineless skin belied her age, she’d been around as long as he could remember. She knew everyone’s dirty history—including his own—but kept her lips sealed. He liked that about her. “Bobby still enjoying retirement?”

“A little too much. He’s decided to build a new deck this summer. Don’t know what the man’s thinking. There’s a reason he went into accounting.”

Val tried not to laugh. Rhonda Lee’s husband was always taking up some kind of home improvement project, despite the fact that he was all thumbs when it came to construction. “So what’s going on today?”

“Got two deputies out in the field. Shift’s about to change, but you caught Cole at a good time. Just head on back.”

“Thanks. Give my best to Bobby, as always.”

She gave him another smile. “I’ll do that. He’s always glad to hear from you.”

Val walked around Rhonda Lee’s desk and entered through a door to the office. It had an open floor plan, with four large desks in the center of the room and tidy bookshelves lining the walls. Around the edges of the space lay the conference rooms and Cole’s office. Hank Jacobs, one of Cole’s trusted deputies, was at one of the desks talking on the telephone, and his resonant voice echoed through the room. He was obviously busy, so Val gave him a brief wave before walking through the big room and giving a rap on Cole’s door frame.

“Enter,” his brother said, his head down as he jotted something in a notebook. Even from behind the desk, Cole looked large and in charge.

“Don’t you even want to see who it is?” Val responded, bemused.

“Always know it’s you. I can tell by your knock.”

“And my footsteps?”

Cole finished what he was writing, shut the notebook, then looked up and grinned. “That too.” He gestured with his hand. “Have a seat. Tell me what’s up.”

Val settled into the chair in front of Cole’s desk and took the opportunity to examine his brother. A month ago as the authorities were closing in on Max Wright, Max shot Cole in the shoulder. Still, Cole looked like he was in good shape. He’d lost a bit of muscle mass in his arms due to the fact that he couldn’t hit the weight room with his arm in a sling, but he seemed well rested, even more so than before the shooting incident.

And Val would know. When Cole had stayed with him on his boat, Val heard his brother yell every time he woke up during the night—a symptom of the post-traumatic stress disorder he’d brought home from Afghanistan and worked hard to keep under control. Cole’s PTSD had intensified when he’d gotten involved with Julie Kensington, but once he’d accepted that he needed help and had gone back to see his shrink, things had turned around. Sure, his brother was still intense, but he was much less haunted. Now, when Cole smiled, his bright blue eyes smiled too—something that no amount of therapy could have accomplished. It was Julie who had worked her magic and gotten his brother living again.

“You’re looking good,” Val said, unable to keep from commenting.

Cole stared back intently. “You know why.”

Yeah, he sure did. Without warning, a vision of Cameron Stahl flashed through his mind, hitting him right in the gut. Just as quickly, he shoved it away. The thought of having a woman of his own was one thing, but the aristocratic beauty was beyond his grasp. A guy could dream, but that’s all it was—a dream. And the sooner he got his desires back under control, the better.

Frowning, he returned to the task at hand: getting his brother up to speed on the sting operation. “The agents my team sent undercover are in place. One is posing as a pharmacist, and two are doctors. Your guy, Pete Thawley, is in deep as a pharmaceutical rep. He’s doing a good job so far. Max Wright wasn’t able to get them vetted by the top dogs, but he was able to get us the weak links to help slip them in.”

“So he’s earning out his deal, then?”

“Hardly. In my opinion, anyone who shoots my brother doesn’t deserve a deal. But Colin thought it was worth giving Max partial immunity in exchange for his help setting up the sting. There are bigger things at play now.”

Cole sat upright in his chair. “Are you telling me you’ve zeroed in on a potential lead?”

“Yes. I can’t tell you much because of its sensitive nature, but let’s just say we have one major target in sight. Even if we get enough evidence from the sting to take down the prescription drug operation, we’re going to want to wait until we have enough to take down this guy, too.”

“Big player?”

“You have no idea.”

“Let me guess—scandal, corruption, political fallout?”

“Something like that.”

Cole gave him speculative look. “Hmm …”

“Don’t even try to guess. It’ll get you—and me—in a whole lot of trouble.”

Within a split second, Cole was back to his usual professional self. “Can’t have that happening. I appreciate you keeping me in the loop. I’ll tell my guys. Pete’s out front, but Kip, Jason, and Hank are working their asses off behind the scenes. Do we have any kind of end in sight?”

Val sighed. “Not yet. But I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“Good.”

“Can I work out of your office for the rest of the day?”

“Sure thing. I can get you set up in the small conference room. Would that suit you?”

“Just fine. I like it here. Only thing missing is good coffee.”

“Can’t beat Lexie’s, that’s for sure.”

“No way, no how.”

“Guest password for the wi-fi is on the table in there. Let me know if you have any problems.”

“Will do,” Val said, rising. “Catch you for a drink after work? Or are you still on those pain meds?”

“Quit taking them after a couple days. Made me groggy. Besides, I have other ways to ease the pain now,” he said with a grin. “So yeah, I can have a drink. We can walk down to the Nail at, say, eighteen hundred?”

“Sounds good.”

For the next four hours, Val immersed himself in work. After doing some maintenance work on his other active cases, he turned his focus to the drug operation. He interfaced with his team, then followed up with the FBI. He spent a couple of hours mapping out a plan of attack for the round-the-clock surveillance. It was tough going, but he loved it. Leading an operation was like putting together a particularly challenging puzzle; each piece needed to be placed just right or nothing else fit or made sense. This was why he did what he did. Because he craved the challenge. Craved the satisfaction of making the gears turn all together toward a common goal. Failure was not an option for him. Lives and communities were on the line, and he wouldn’t let anyone down.

Around five-forty-five, he emerged from the conference room, clear-headed but a bit bleary-eyed from staring at his computer screen for so long. That damned paperwork again. Thanks to his legal training, he was skilled at it, but it never became less annoying to do. Jason Ulner, a dark-haired deputy, was on desk duty now, and he gave the man a brief nod.

Cole came out of his own office. “Just finished up. Need anything before we go?” he asked.

“Nope,” Val said. “A cold beer sounds pretty good right about now.”

“You said it. Wish Theo and Seb were around.”

Val grunted as they walked into the front room. Rhonda Lee was still there, her huge head of hair bobbing as she explained something to a younger woman, who also sported a gargantuan blond bouffant.

“ ’Night, Rhonda Lee. ’Night, Betty. See you in the morning.”

“Who’s Betty?” Val asked as soon as they were outside. At some point, it had stopped raining, though there was still dampness in the air. The Sheriff’s Department was directly across from the Star Harbor Green, and the dark, rich smell of earth, stirred up by the heavy rain, wafted on the evening breeze.

“Rhonda Lee’s niece. Lives in Falmouth. Nice girl. She’s getting trained to be a dispatcher. We have someone working nights, but he’s not as good. As Rhonda Lee’s getting closer to retirement, she thought it might be smart to have someone ready to take over.”

Val nodded. “She must like you.”

“I treat my staff well,” Cole said simply.

They turned and began to walk down Main, toward the water. “Getting back to Seb—when’s he coming to open his new restaurant?”

“Saturday’s opening night, but he’s been scrambling to get everything ready. I don’t think he even has a name picked out yet. We’re all getting together on Thursday night to help with the setup. I won’t be able to do much in the way of heavy lifting, but I plan to do some painting.”

Val groaned. “This Thursday? Damn. Wish he’d told me.”

“What?” Cole said, eyeing him. “You got a hot date?” When Val pursed his lips together, Cole just blinked. “Holy crap. You do have a hot date! Who is she?”

Val just kept walking.

Rather than push him, Cole wisely shut his mouth.

They hung a right at the boardwalk. The harbor was beautiful tonight, the light fading over the horizon, clouds hanging low, that crackle in the air, the aftermath of a summer storm.

“Let me drop my laptop off at the boat.”

“Gotta lock up the Holy Grail, huh?” Cole said with a smile.

Val laughed. “Good one.” He was totally obsessed with the security of his gear, especially his laptop and his weapons, which if compromised would have far-reaching consequences.

Val secured his laptop onboard, then rejoined his brother on the pier. They walked down the boardwalk to the Rusty Nail, reaching it in a matter of moments, as it was only a pier away from where his houseboat was moored. The building itself was unassuming—a typical boardwalk structure, worn from the pounding it had received over the years from sea and weather. The paint was faded and peeling, and the door, marked only by a small placard above the frame, looked like it had seen better days.

If you didn’t know what was inside, you’d never enter. Which, Val suspected, was just the way the proprietor, Andy Neiman, wanted it. Not that Andy was unfriendly—far from it. It’s just that he understood that locals would want a place to call their own. And in the Nail, he’d built just that.

Cole shot him a smile as he pushed open the door. Once inside, Val took in his surroundings. Royce Hogan, the town’s mayor, sat with his wife, Trina, in a booth off to the side. Someone was racking up the pool balls in the back room, and a few elderly fishermen sat at the polished wood bar. Other than that, the place was empty.

Cole walked up to the bar, Val right behind him.

“Ah, the eldest two Grayson brothers,” Andy said with a twinkle in his deep brown eyes. “Enjoy the storm this afternoon?”

Yeah, he’d enjoyed it all right. Enough to kiss a woman he had no business kissing but couldn’t seem to get off his mind. Yet he couldn’t exactly say that to Andy. Couldn’t tell him that he’d soaked himself to the bone trying to forget what he shouldn’t want, even as he knew he had to see her again. So he stayed silent and gave Andy a short nod.

“Worked through it,” Cole said. “Too much going on. Definitely need a break. What do you have on tap?”

“Decided to branch out a bit. Got one from California called Anchor Steam, which you might like. But of course I have the usual stuff, too.”

Val shrugged. “I’ll try the Anchor Steam, Andy. Thanks.”

“Why the hell not? Make that two,” Cole said.

Andy gave a nod and pulled two frosty glasses out from a fridge underneath the counter. “How’s work going?” he asked, pouring the first glass. “Hold that. Forgot I was talking to the cop and the G-man. Ah, well. Tell me what you can.”

“Keeping the peace,” Cole said. Everyone in town knew they were intensely focused on the drug problem, but Cole knew better than to talk, and he knew full well that Val wouldn’t, either. In fact, Val liked listening to other people talk, figuring out what made them tick. It was one of his greatest pleasures, and it sometimes meant that instead of participating in a conversation, he was analyzing it. Unfortunately, some people took it as rudeness or shyness. It wasn’t either.

“Yeah, I know what’s going on,” Andy said, placing the other glass under the tap. “Folks are getting pretty antsy around here, wondering what’s going to happen, and when the incidents are going to stop.”

Cole sighed heavily. “It’s been tough to get on top of it, that’s for sure. Seems like every week we have one or two new cases of dealing—way up from even six months ago. We’re doing our best, though.”

“I know you are. As always, if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

“That’s great. Thanks, Andy.”

Andy finished filling the glasses and placed them on top of the bar. “Here you go.”

“How much do we owe you?” Val asked, pulling out his wallet.

“These are on the house, guys.”

“Appreciate that, Andy,” he said.

“My pleasure. Can’t deny it’s nice to have two lawmen in the bar, even on a slow night.”

“Thanks, man,” Cole said.

They picked up their glasses and headed to a corner table so Cole could sit with his back to the wall. True to form, Cole went for the seat in the corner, and Val took one to his left side. Then they relaxed, sipping their beers in companionable silence.

“This stuff’s not bad.”

“Nope,” Val said.

“I like the Shipyard better, though.”

“This one’s hoppier.”

“Yeah. That’s what I don’t like about it.”

Val grunted. To each his own. “How’s talking to the shrink going?” he asked.

“All right. I hate spilling my guts.”

“Julie’s worth it, though, right?”

“For her, I’d do just about anything, so yeah, it’s worth it,” Cole said, mouth tight. “Still doesn’t make it easier—figuring out the man I am … or the man I think I am.”

“A good man.”

Cole snorted. “Hardly.”

“Someday you’ll be able to see what everyone else sees. And by the way Julie’s working her magic on you, I bet it’ll be sooner rather than later.”

Cole just grunted. “You can’t go all Dr. Phil on me without letting me in on what’s up in your life. And you can start by telling me what you’re doing on Thursday night that’s so important you’re contemplating missing out on the prep work for Seb’s new restaurant.” Then he took a deep drink of beer.

“Cameron Stahl,” he said. “And before you give me a lecture on why I’m no good for her, save it.”

To his credit, instead of running his mouth like he usually did, Cole merely swallowed and leaned back in his seat. He was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

“I’m not as curious why you’re no good for her as I am in why you think it.”

“Because she’s Cameron Stahl.”

He hadn’t spoken sarcastically, but Cole got what he was saying. “That’s the biggest bunch of bull I’ve ever heard.”

Val shrugged. “The truth is, she is too rich and too young, but I can’t stop thinking about her.” She was the first woman in a long time he’d felt that way about. Maybe the first woman ever.

“You want truth? Let me tell you truth. You’re a man who spends his life worrying about other people’s crap instead of dealing with his own. Who puts everyone else first—his mom, his brothers, hell, even his country. Who works on his days off, just to make sure that when he’s on, he does a perfect job. Who goes out of his way to encourage his brothers to pursue their dreams, even while deferring his own. Who saves every penny he doesn’t need to live so that if God forbid one of his brothers should need it, he can provide for him.” Before he had the opportunity to even think about how Cole had found out about his secret bank account, Cole kept going. “Who’s sacrificed everything he has for his family and who should damn well start thinking about himself now instead of waiting until it’s too late.” Val opened his mouth to say something, but Cole held up his hand to indicate he wasn’t finished. “You spent your youth trying to make us into men. And you succeeded. It’s not even a question as to whether you’re worthy of Cameron Stahl. In fact, I wonder whether she’s worthy of you.”

And with that final pronouncement, Cole drank the rest of his beer in one long swallow. Val didn’t say a word. Carefully, Cole placed the empty glass on the table and turned to look him dead in the eye. “You heard what I had to say. It’s up to you to believe it.” He looked around the tavern. “I need another drink.”

Cole unfolded himself from his chair and walked stiffly back up to the bar. Stunned into silence by what his brother had said, Val couldn’t believe how far they’d come, as brothers and as men. Cole had been the hardest hit of the four of them when their dad had died, and after a childhood of hell-raising, he’d spent the rest of his life trying to make up for what he’d done. A couple of years ago, Val had actually turned down a prestigious transfer to the DC office just to make sure Cole was on track after returning from Afghanistan. Now, he knew it had been worth it. This might just be the proudest day of his life.

Cole gestured at Andy, holding up two fingers with his good hand. Glancing down at his own glass, Val realized he’d drunk almost his entire beer without realizing it. Another beer sounded about right. Good thing he wasn’t planning to head back to Boston until tomorrow afternoon.

When Cole came back to the table armed with two fresh brews carefully positioned in a big hand, Val accepted his with a nod and a smile.

“I really appreciate what you’re doing,” he said. If someone had told him even a few weeks ago that his little brother would be giving him life lessons at the Rusty Nail, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Cole merely blinked and sat down. “Compared to what you did for me over the years, it’s a drop in the bucket. Just remember what I said. And if that means going after someone you think is out of reach, all I can say is, you’ll never know unless you try.”