Twelve
It was Sunday morning, early, and people were gathering for the Dog Jog. The crowd was large at the starting line in the elementary school parking lot. With the firing of a cap gun, the walkers, joggers, and runners would proceed to Gulf Shore Boulevard, which ran parallel to the boardwalk and beach. Fans and supporters would line the sidewalks, cheering on the participants. The two-mile race finished near the pier. Trophies would be awarded, first through third place. There’d be canine treats and human snacks.
Alyn was as excited as she was apprehensive. Strapped in his wheelchair, Quigley stood on his front paws, his back legs secured in the stirrups, surrounded by all the other dogs. Number sixty, along with his name, was taped to the side of his handicapped cart. A blue bandana circled his neck, indicating he had a permanent home. A red bandana meant the dog was up for adoption. There were a lot of red bandanas.
Alyn held his leash loosely. She hadn’t been sure how he’d react. He’d never socialized. Never had a playdate. Fortunately, he wasn’t the least bit nervous. Only curious. He held his own.
“Ry-man, get a grip on Atlas,” Halo called to Rylan Cates. Ry was standing a few feet away, conversing with his sister Shaye, organizer of the event. Atlas had the full length of his leash to sniff out Quigs. The Great Dane had nearly inhaled the pug.
Rylan snapped the leash, but Atlas paid him no mind. Ry came to them instead. “He won’t hurt Quigley,” Rylan assured them. “He’s more interested in the wheelchair.” Which Atlas was now nuzzling, rocking, with his nose.
“No tipping him over.” Halo nudged the Dane aside with his knee. The big dog crouched down, wanting to play. He bounced left, right, barked. Then whined, until Quiggie responded. Not with a bark, but with a wag of his curly tail.
Alyn saw the quick, yet significant waggle. Had she blinked, she would’ve missed it. Her heart squeezed. She reached for Halo’s hand. “Quigley’s first wag since the accident.”
“Nice going, Atlas,” Halo relented. “He responded to you.” Atlas had more expressions than a cartoon character. He looked quite pleased with himself.
“Joggers, attention, please.” Shaye’s voice boomed through a megaphone. “It’s time to line up. Six rows across. Ten deep.”
The majority of the Rogues decided on the last two rows, near Halo and Alyn. Rylan and Atlas would lead off. Hometown boy and legendary dog. Landon and Eden joined them soon after. Their two dogs were leashed together. Landon greeted them with, “Meet Ruby and Obie.” The dachshund had her nose in the air, taking in every scent. The beagle was shy, and kept his head down. He tried to squeeze between Landon’s sneakered feet.
Ruby would have none of Obie’s hiding. She nipped his ear. Made unidentifiable sounds that only Obie could understand. He crept out in the open. She licked his face.
Pitcher Will Ridgeway and his Chihuahua Cutie Patootie found them next. “I’m betting six steps and you’re carrying her,” Landon said to the pitcher, who held her now.
“Every time I set her down, she cries like a baby,” Will said. “She’s easy to carry. She fits in my palm.” A metallic blue ribbon wrapped the dog’s neck. A bandana would’ve swamped her.
“Zoo’s late,” Halo noticed, as the left fielder sprinted onto the lot. An enormous Rottweiler was by his side. Another blue bandana.
“That’s Turbo,” Landon said. “Zoo said he’s a chewer.”
Turbo proved that fact shortly thereafter. Zoo came to the back of the pack. The dog was hooked to a leather leash; his teeth marks were visible all along the lead. The handle was worn thin.
“Sit,” Zoo instructed Turbo. The Rottie dropped down, only to pop back up. “There’s obedience school in his future.”
“When did you adopt him?” asked Land.
“A few days ago.”
“About the time we got our two.”
“We?” Zoo was clearly in the dark.
“Eden and me.”
“Whoa, dude, I hadn’t heard you’d coupled.” He cut his gaze to Halo. “Halo’s got himself a woman. I’m wanting to meet his fiancée.”
“Zoo, Alyn,” was all Halo said.
“Your contest winner’s sister? I should’ve known. You’ve been playing house for over a week now.”
Halo’s eyes narrowed. His expression dark. A warning sign. “Careful, dude. I’ve known her longer than you think. Several months, actually.”
Zoo held up one hand, palm out. “I meant no disrespect.”
“None taken,” said Alyn.
Zoo took her in. A player fully checking out his teammate’s choice in women. His gaze held on her breasts, until Halo cleared his throat. “I was admiring her locket,” he defended.
“My engagement gift,” Alyn said.
“No ring?”
“The locket was my choice,” she told him. “It’s better than a ring. More visible.”
“Nice display case.” He referred to her cleavage. “What’s inside?”
Alyn felt Halo tense beside her. His, “I just purchased it for her,” covered up the fact it might be empty.
“So . . . nothing?” Zoo was smug.
“Something.” Alyn broke her surprise. A careful flick of the clasp, and it opened. The inner gold rim circled two tiny photographs. One of her, one of Halo. Both photos were in profile, facing each other. A sepia shading aged the images. They looked as if they’d been in the locket forever. Very romantic.
She heard Halo release a relieved breath. His arm curved her waist, as he eased her back against him. He lightly kissed her on the lips, in front of everyone.
Zoo snorted. “Halo pictured in a locket? Never would I have believed it, had I not seen it.” He and Turbo moved one row ahead. “Away from the couples,” Zoo tossed back.
Halo whispered near her ear. “Where’d you get the photos?” he asked.
Alyn smiled. “From Eden, when we stopped at her shop. She took a lot of pictures at the bonfire. I was hoping she had one of us, which she could reduce to fit the locket.”
Eden smiled. “It took a few minutes, but we got the job done.”
“Just in time, too,” Alyn reminded him of Sharon.
“Thank you,” Halo’s words encompassed both the photo and the save.
“Is everyone ready to start?” Shaye now stood on a ladder, scanning the group. “The Dog Jog route consists of one main street. The race ends when the last dog crosses the finish line.”
Which would be Quigs, Alyn anticipated. Halo wore the front carry dog pack over his Rogues jersey. He’d offered to give the pug a lift should his front legs tire. Two miles was a long distance for a handicapped dog. They’d do their best.
“On your mark, get set, go!” Shaye fired the cap gun. It wasn’t loud enough to scare the dogs. Merely to get the race started.
Halo craned his neck, chuckled. “Our line has yet to move. Atlas and Rylan are half a block ahead of us. A standard white poodle is keeping pace with them.”
“Princess Pom-Pom,” Alyn remembered. “She wears a tiara, and toenails painted pink. She wasn’t from the shelter. A much pampered poodle.”
“I’m hoping those dogs needing a home find one today,” said Halo, as they edged forward. He took her free hand.
Quigley was alert. Expectant. He tugged against his leash. His front legs churned. Using up all his energy at the onset.
They soon cleared the parking lot and passed through the barricades that sealed off the boulevard. No street traffic was allowed. Several shop owners opened their doors, looked out on the race. It was the perfect day for the event, Alyn thought. A comfortable seventy degrees, with a faint breeze. Not a cloud in the sky. Enormous evergreens lined the two-lane road. Ancient moss clung to the cypresses. Royal Poinciana trees grew on each corner, shading the runners. A crowd gathered along the route. A huge turnout.
People called to their favorites. Atlas’s name echoed back to them. Midway through the race, Quigley faltered. He progressively slowed. He began to pant. Alyn debated pulling him from the cart, and letting Halo carry him. But just as she was about to do so, the call out to Quiggie began. Low-rolling voices that turned into a rumble, as loud as any stadium chant.
Alyn was so surprised, she tripped over her own feet. Halo was there to steady her. “What’s happening?” she asked.
“Seems your boy has a fan club.”
The pug’s ears twitched with the outpouring of his name. He came to a stop and listened. That’s when Atlas appeared. Out of nowhere. Zigzagging through the joggers to reach them. No Rylan in sight. The Great Dane loped to the pug. Skidded to a halt. Ry showed a moment later, his expression set.
“Atlas slipped his lead,” Ry explained. “We were just yards from the finish line when he spun, circled back around.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Winning’s not important to my boy. He was more concerned about Quigley.”
“We’re getting there,” said Halo.
“We’re not that far behind Landon and Eden,” Alyn noted. For every three steps forward, their beagle retreated one. Still, they remained in the race.
Atlas went belly-flat next to Quigs. He prodded the pug with his big nose. Atlas growled, but not menacingly. Alyn was certain it was his own canine encouragement. Atlas gave a lengthy rant.
Shortly thereafter, Shaye showed up on a bicycle. She held up her hands, questioningly. “What’s going on? The Dog Jog has come to a standstill. All participants are holding back, not one jogger has crossed the finish line.”
Rylan was first to see the light. “They’re waiting for Quigley.”
Alyn put her hand over her heart. “I’m not sure he’ll make it.” Her voice was watery.
Halo pulled her close. “Quiggie’s having muscle spasms. His back legs are jerky. There’s energy sparking along his spine. Let him finish.”
The pug was straining, trying hard to use his hind legs. To straighten them out, only to have the muscles contract.
Quigley didn’t wait for anyone’s decision. His head and shoulders stretched, and he pulled the cart forward. Atlas nearly tromped him in his excitement. His bark became a howl.
They had a mile yet to go. Shaye pedaled ahead and, as they passed the other dogs, the participants fell in line behind them. Quigs moved from last to first in a matter of blocks.
Even Zoo, always out to win, acknowledged their progression. Begrudgingly. He curbed his Rottweiler, allowing them to go ahead. Could dogs smile? Alyn wondered. She swore Turbo grinned.
The cheers only got louder as they neared the end. Alyn’s heart swelled. Her throat tightened. She spotted Danny and her mother on the corner, just beyond the orange tape that marked the finish line. Danny was jumping up and down. Her mother clapping like mad. Even Eleanor Norris banged the rubber tip of her cane on the cement. Poor Herman, Alyn thought.
Atlas allowed Quigley to break the tape and cross the finish line one paw ahead of him. Spectators rushed the pug. Quigs was mobbed. Atlas barked people back, claiming the pug as his friend, and no one else’s.
“Share,” Rylan told the Dane.
Atlas grunted. A very rude sound.
Congratulations circulated. Alyn turned and gave Atlas a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered near his floppy ear. Atlas licked her cheek. Halo used the sleeve of his jersey to wipe away the wetness.
A photographer snapped their picture. Shaye and the director of the animal shelter handled the interviews. Halo and Alyn kneeled at the same time. She unstrapped Quigs, and he positioned the dog in the mesh backpack. They stood. People stopped, praised, and petted Quigley.
Danny and her mother worked their way to them. There were hugs all around. Shaye announced the trophy presentation. She requested the winners come forward. Quigley took first. Atlas, second. Princess Pom-Pom, third. Alyn gave Danny the trophy to hold. Her brother held it high.
“I’m cutting out,” Rylan finally said. “Any chance Atlas can get a playdate with Quigley once we return to Richmond?” he asked Alyn. “He lives with a golden and two dachs. A new friend might be nice.”
“Why not get together sooner?” asked Halo.
“Contest winners and their families will be returning home in three days,” Ry reminded him. “My schedule’s maxed out at the moment. Local obligations. Once we get settled for the regular season, let’s do it.”
“We’d like that,” Alyn agreed. “There’s a park near our house.”
“Team meeting before practice tomorrow,” Rylan finalized with Halo. “Don’t be late. Big hand on the twelve. Little hand on the eight.”
“Funny, dude.” He didn’t smile.
“Do you often run late?” she asked him once Ry left.
“Not when something’s important.” His gaze had narrowed. His jaw was granite. A muscle jumped in his cheek.
“What’s wrong?” she quietly asked as they followed Danny and her mother to his Hummer.
“You’re leaving?” came out tight.
“We have to go home sometime.”
“Danny and your mom, yes. You, no.”
“I need to return and set up shop.”
“I need you here.”
“We’ll only be apart a couple of weeks.”
“Too damn long.”
“The best time for estate and storage sales is early spring,” she reasoned with him. “I don’t want to lose out on great deals.”
“You already have a ton of furniture.”
“Not enough,” she affirmed. “The store is five times the size of my living room. I want to offer large and eclectic groupings.”
They walked half a block. His expression remained unrelenting. “Engaged couples spend time apart,” she appealed. “Women admire a faithful man.”
“I like how you keep the ladies off.”
“I keep them off you, but who keeps you off me?”
His grin tipped then. “That’s the challenge.”
She slowed, looked at him then. At the big man strapped with a front carrypack, holding her dog. Quigley had fallen asleep. His head lolled to the side. His tongue hung out. One back paw twitched, as if he was chasing rabbits.
Halo held her gaze. He was a hard man to resist. But she had to think about her business. She had ten months to prove herself. To pay back every cent he gave her.
She shared her upcoming weeks with him. “I already have a floor plan. I’ve arranged the pieces in my mind. I’ll hire a moving company, and open The Shy Lily in April.”
“You’re going to be busy.”
“So are you. I saw the schedule for upcoming games. You play more away games than at home. You won’t have time to miss me.”
“Maybe not you, but Quiggie Sparks.”
She stopped, rose up on tiptoe, and kissed him. A nice, sound kiss. Not an easy feat with Quigs between them. The pug cracked his eyes, yawned, and zonked back out.
Alyn stroked her dog’s head. “Quigley’s had a long day.”
“It’s not even noon,” he commented, as they walked on. “Let’s hit the beach this afternoon. Danny wants to build a sand castle. The ice cream pontoon cruises offshore on Sundays. Near the sandbar. We’ll wrap Danny’s cast so it doesn’t get wet. It’s fun to swim out for cones. I’ve yet to see you in a swimsuit.”
His mention of her swimsuit made her blush. No string or thong bikini, but it was break-out for her. It showed a lot of skin. She’d wanted to return to Richmond with a tan.
Halo drove them back to Barefoot Inn. Unloaded Quigley and his cart. Then left them for an hour so they could get ready for the beach. Her mother begged off, offering to pet sit Quigs. Alyn settled him on the dog bed. His soft snores made her sleepy. The room had a Mr. Coffee, and she brewed a pot. Drank two cups, and was wide-eyed when Halo returned.
The afternoon stretched sunny and warm, but not too hot. Tourists crowded the beach. Multicolored loungers and low sand chairs pressed together. Some sun worshippers preferred to lie on towels. They’d borrowed loungers from the inn, then purchased a sand castle building kit at Crabby Abby’s General Store on the boardwalk. They located space near the turquoise lifeguard tower. The station would provide shade later in the day as the sun shifted. They would avoid sunburns.
Halo had wrapped Danny’s cast in a small garbage bag covered with cellophane. A full roll. Leaving his fingers free. Her brother had freedom to play in the sand and salt water. He hated putting on sunscreen. So Alyn made him wear his white T-shirt. His swim trunks were baggy, hanging below his knees. Her brother was pretty well covered.
Danny bee-lined for the shore, seeking moist, compact sand. He opened his kit and, using a small shovel, began digging and piling sand. He was out to construct a baseball stadium. One that seated eighty thousand fans. He had a lot of building before nightfall.
“So . . .” Halo said, side-eyeing her, as he arranged the vinyl loungers. They hadn’t had lunch, and he’d thoughtfully brought a cooler, filled with sandwiches, fruit, and soft drinks. Danny had peeked. Dessert would be an ice cream cone from the pontoon.
“So . . . what?” Alyn returned, knowing full well what he meant, but not admitting to it.
“You going to wear the cover-up all afternoon?”
Possibly. “We just got here.”
“I’m waiting.”
The man was insufferable. “You first.”
He wore a gray T-shirt captioned with I’m Not an Example, I Come with a Warning Label, over black board shorts. “Fine,” he said. He grabbed the hem, and drew the shirt over his shoulders and head. His hair got mussed, all sexy in his eyes.
She admired his chest, massive and muscled. His arms were strong. Black board shorts rode low on his hips. His abdomen was defined. His legs long, sinewed. She heard a woman sigh, close by, and realized Halo was drawing attention. Who wouldn’t want to look at him? He was athletic perfection.
“Your turn.” His green eyes flashed as wickedly as his dimples.
Alyn fiddled with her scrunchie, tightening her ponytail. She next fingered the top button on her purple-and-white maxi. The top was ruched and it had high slits on the sides. One button down, and she went for the second, until all were undone to her waist. She shouldered off the cover-up, let it fall, exposing her lavender crop halter top and high-cut bikini bottoms. A modest suit by Halo’s standards. She braved his stare.
He gave her the once-over. The twice-over. His gaze heated, appreciative. His breathing deepened. His hands fisted at his sides, as he fought touching her. Her whole body blushed.
“You’re hot,” he finally said, his voice husky.
She’d never considered herself hot. Not even on her best days, which were few and far between. Despite his exaggeration, she appreciated the flattery. A fiancé should be kind.
She scooped up her beach bag, and located the suntan oil. Lowering herself on a lounger, she uncapped Hawaiian Hibiscus. Halo made his move. Unclenching his hands, he said, “Let me.”
“I’m doing my front.”
“I’m good with fronts.”
She’d bet he was. “You can do my shoulders. I’ll do the rest.”
He hunkered beside her, and she passed him the bottle. He slickened his hands. She closed her eyes. He oiled her. Shoulders, arms, across her breastbone. His fingertips played along the edges of her halter top. Over, under, at the sides, applying to skin not exposed to the sun. Her nipples puckered. Her stomach softened. Sighing, she went lax. Lost to their surroundings, and the fact she lay in full view of the lifeguards and other beachgoers.
“All covered,” Halo soon determined, squeezing her hip.
Covered? She blinked, lifted her head, and stared down her body. Shoulders to toes, he’d finished the task. Even her inner thighs glistened. His smile came, slow and sexy. Satisfied.
Danny took that moment to flag Halo down. “Come help me!” he shouted from water’s edge.
“Be right there,” Halo called back. He put on his Bulgari wrap-around sunglasses. “We need to move the stadium to higher ground. Otherwise, high tide’s going to take the outfield.”
Alyn watched as they moved up the beach. Closer to her. It didn’t surprise her that Halo drew a crowd. A rather large gathering. He was fine to look at, and his sand castle skills were superb. Men dropped down, offered to help. Women stood back, eyed his tight ass and flexing muscles.
Her fiancé, Alyn thought. It was fun to pretend he belonged to her, for the moment. He looked up often, raised an eyebrow, grinned, and waved. He tightened their bond. Publicly.
Danny sent Halo to get him a sandwich while he stood guard over the stadium. No one packed a grain of sand without Danny’s permission. Halo had made that clear from the start. The boy was in charge. And loving it.
Halo opened the iced cooler. “Peanut butter and jelly, ham and cheese, or chicken salad?” he asked Alyn, giving her first choice.
“Chicken salad,” sounded good.
“Pear, orange, or apple?”
“Pear.”
“Iced tea, root beer, or grape?”
“Iced tea.”
He gathered the remaining food and drinks and turned back to the sand stadium. “How’s it coming?” she asked him, unable to fully view their project through all the people.
“We’re at twenty thousand seats,” he replied tongue-in-cheek.
They had a ways to go. She ate her lunch, read a book, and closed her eyes. Slept. For how long, she wasn’t sure. A kiss wakened her. A man’s mouth, firm warm lips and coaxing tongue. Halo. She’d recognize his kiss anywhere. Delicious.
“Ice cream, sis,” she heard her brother call. “The pontoon’s floating off-shore. Let’s swim out.”
Halo eased back. “You want to join us? Danny picked two people to guard the stadium while we take a break. We’re good to get a cone or sundae. Fudgsicles.”
Alyn sat up, squinted against the sun. The bright pink pontoon had anchored, and was easily accessible by a ladder, on the far side of the sandbar. The water didn’t appear too deep. Halo could walk right to it. She and Danny would have to swim a short distance.
“Money?” she asked him. “Won’t it get wet?”
He patted the pocket on his board shorts. “Waterproof.”
He took her hand, and tugged her off the lounger. She brushed his side as they walked across the sand. He traced a finger over her shoulder and down her side. “I like my woman warm and slick.”
Her skin was hot. The suntan oil slippery. The Gulf was pale blue and welcomingly cool. Danny went ahead of them. Bobbing in the water, until he couldn’t touch the floor anymore. He paddled in a circle, splashing wildly, until Halo hauled him in.
“Hop on,” Halo told her brother, bending slightly, and offering a piggyback ride. Danny climbed on.
Alyn lost her footing as the water deepened. She swam the breaststroke the remainder of the way.
Halo placed Danny on the sandbar. Her brother climbed the ladder onto the pontoon. Halo then took Alyn’s hand and nudged her ahead of him. She was three rungs up the ladder when her foot slipped. She tipped sideways. Halo had her back, but could barely catch her. She was oily. His palm skimmed down her spine and slid inside her bikini bottom. His long, callused fingers cupped her bare ass. Fortunately, there was no one behind them.
“Sweet cheeks,” he said, tightening his grip. Right before he squeezed. She nearly came out of her skin. He chuckled. Removing his hand, he patted her butt. Then gave her a solid push onboard.
Danny had gotten in line. The cabin served as a snack bar. There were outside tables on the main platform. “Banana split,” he ordered at the window.
Alyn went with a Creamsicle. Halo had a Chipwich. They sat out on the covered deck and ate. Her brother’s eyes were bigger than his stomach. Halo helped him finish the three scoops, banana, and toppings.
Danny burped, and Alyn raised an eyebrow. He remembered his manners. “Sorry.” Pausing, “Burping’s better than—”
She cut him off, knowing what he was about to say. “Neither one in public.”
Halo sided with Danny. “Sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do.”
Her brother found that inordinately funny. He started to laugh and couldn’t stop. He clutched his stomach. “I like you, Halo. You’re like a—” He gasped, unable to fully catch his breath.
A what? Alyn thought. Like a father? A brother? To him.
“My best friend,” he finally managed.
Halo gave him a fist bump. “I’m there with you, buddy.”
“Do you like me as much as Landon?”
“Landon is my adult best friend. You’re my under ten.”
Danny nodded, accepting Halo’s answer. “What’s Alyn to you, then?”
“My fiancée.”
“Not for real.”
Halo looked Alyn in the eye. “Reality is relative at any given moment. Your sister and I are together now. No telling what the future will bring.”
Danny puzzled over his words. “So the future could bring something good? Like gifts at Christmas?”
Christmas was guaranteed, Alyn thought. Halo and she had a ten-month deal. She didn’t want to disappoint her brother, so she said, “We’ll see how it all shakes out, sweetie.”
“I hope it shakes good.”
She had started to cross her fingers, too, in hopes she and Halo might move beyond their business arrangement and have an actual relationship. Sex would figure into their equation. She wasn’t quite ready for him, but soon. Making love to the man would be a life-altering experience. She would not deny herself. No matter the consequences.
Her previous boyfriend had hurt her. Halo’s eventual departure would break her heart. But sometimes pain was worth it. When she had his memory to last her a lifetime.
The dolphin-shaped clock on the cabin wall claimed late afternoon. The air had cooled. A breeze rippled the water. The day had caught up with Danny. He leaned against her, his head drooping.
“I’ll piggyback him to the beach,” said Halo, rising. He cleared the plastic dessert dish; tossed it in recyclable trash. Then he prodded Danny. “Let’s go, dude.”
“I’m too tired to climb down the ladder.”
Halo offered an alternative. “I could always toss you over the side.”
Her brother made it down the ladder in record time.
Halo went ahead of Alyn, in case she slipped again. “Careful,” he told her, as he cupped her left butt cheek until they reached the sandbar. She wiggled away the second her feet touched sandy reef. Then tugged down her swimsuit bottom, which had gotten pushed high on her tush. She showed a lot of cheek. Both sides.
She eyed him. “Really?”
“I had your back.”
And her butt. His grin was pure sin. Her breath caught just looking at him. She needed to cool off. She dove into the water, headed for shore. She was a fairly strong swimmer, but not as strong as Halo, even with Danny on his back. A powerful free-stylist, Halo sliced through the water. They passed her halfway to shore. Danny’s laughter echoed in their wake.
Shallow water landed them both on their feet. That’s when Halo initiated a foot race. Knees high, she stomped more than ran, quickly lagging behind.
Halo got Danny to land, then returned for her. There was more in his expression than lending a helpful hand. She swatted water at him, discouragingly. It didn’t faze him in the least. He was twice her size, and shadowed her from the shoreline.
The pontoon rang a bell, pulled away from the sandbar. Cruised farther down the coast. In the silence that followed, Alyn stared up at Halo. No man should look so good wet. He ran one hand through his hair, pushed it back off his face. Water droplets tipped his eyelashes. His gaze was hot, determined, and dangerously bright. A warning he was about to kiss her.
Still she hesitated. “I don’t—”
“I do.”
They did.
He trapped her close, and their bodies aligned. Her arms circled his neck. They were as close as two people could be and still have their swimsuits on.
Anticipation tingled and her knees went weak when he walked her backwards, to a greater depth. Where the ocean played beneath her breasts, and fully covered his groin.
His mouth descended. A man ready to claim his woman. He’d chosen her. He teased and tasted, and courted her with hot, deep, moist kisses. He bit her bottom lip and sucked the plumpness. She moaned.
Her resistance floated away.
The strong beat of his heart collided with her own. The hard ridges of his abdomen flexed against her belly as he breathed in and out. Roughly. More rapidly.
His hands slid lower, to cup her butt, lifting her against his sex, settling his erection into the vee of her thighs. She arched her back, raised her hips, and deepened their contact. She rocked and rubbed the full length of him. The man was large. Very large.
His hand moved beneath the water, rounding her hip, and grazing her inner thigh. The callused pads of his fingers eased between her legs. He stroked her through the lavender bikini bottom. The abrasive rub of his fingertips was erotically sensual. His unrelenting attention taxed every nerve ending in her body.
A craving took hold, and she moved against his fingers. He increased the pressure. Her lungs compressed. Her heart beat too fast. Her inner muscles contracted. She tensed to the point of snapping. He took her to climax. Sensations, tremors lingered.
Her low moan broke their kiss. Their breaths connected in short pants. He rested his forehead against her brow. He now knew her body far better than she knew his. She’d found release, and he remained hard. Her cheeks grew warm. She was afraid to look at him.
He was the one to tilt up her chin with his thumb, to meet her gaze. Her chin felt a little tender. Whisker burn. Halo hadn’t shaved in several days. He was all sexy roughness and soul-stealing. He’d captured her heart.
He released her slowly. Let her slide off his body in one fluid motion. His erection poked her all the way down. She licked her lips. “What about you?”
“What about me?” His tone was amused.
“I—” she faltered.
“Had an orgasm,” he helped her.
“You—”
“Didn’t.”
“What now?” She wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. How to handle the man.
He didn’t have time to answer. Danny ran to the shoreline, waved to them. “Halo,” he shouted. “I want to do the fan walkway outside the stadium. Come help.”
“Two minutes,” Halo called over his shoulder.
“Maybe I should go ahead, and you can follow,” she suggested.
“I need to deflate.”
“I’ll start the walkway.”
Alyn was on her hands and knees, forming a sidewalk when Halo returned. His gaze was steely, and he walked stiffly. No one seemed to notice, and if they did, no one commented. He crouched down across from her, and next to Danny, on the opposite side of the stadium. The sand castle was detailed and enormous. It would’ve taken first place in any contest. The builders were focused, intent, squaring off angles and rounding edges.
The building continued until twilight. Until her brother clapped his hands and declared it finished. People rose, backed slowly away, as if letting the sand castle breathe. Fully come alive. Awaiting the shout of “play ball.”
The waning sun scored the stadium in shades of red and hints of purple. The fan walkway was tinged orange. Halo retrieved his iPhone from his backpack, took group and single pictures. Alyn captured one of boy and man, both smiling, both content and proud with the day’s activity.
“Be sure you check out the Rogues’ Facebook page and website when you get home,” Halo said to Danny. “I’ll have Jillian post a few pictures on one or both.” He glanced at Alyn. “You can track updates on spring training, home and away games, and future events on-line, too.”
Danny frowned. “Wish I was staying.”
Halo ruffled his hair. “So do I, dude, but you need to get back to school, and I need to focus on our upcoming season.”
“You’re ready.” Danny was positive. “You’ll hit a home run every game.”
“Maybe not every game.”
“I’ll be counting.”
Alyn wouldn’t be counting his at-bats; instead, she’d be marking off days on her calendar until he returned to Richmond. She’d gotten used to having Halo in her life. She would miss him. More than she cared to admit.
* * *
Their time in Barefoot William came to an end. Far too quickly. Private time with Halo was limited. A few kisses. Nothing more. Flying home with the pets wasn’t an option, so Halo hired a limousine service to drive them back to Richmond. One with a television, Wi-Fi, and mini-fridge.
On the day of their departure, they strolled the beach one last time. High tide and foot traffic had leveled the stadium. Only one small section of the fan sidewalk remained.
Shortly thereafter, they stood on the sidewalk outside the inn, each taking a turn hugging Halo. Danny was sad. Halo fist bumped the boy until he smiled. Martha thanked him profusely. The vacation had done her mother a world of good. Then came Alyn. Her arms wrapped his waist and she laid her cheek on his chest. The beat of his heart was steady and strong, and would travel with her.
He stroked her hair, tipped up her chin, and kissed her deeply. Leaving her breathless. She climbed into the black stretch limo, and settled beside Quigley in his child car carrier. Then clutched her locket and stared out the window. Her gaze held Halo’s until they turned the corner. The professional driver got them home safely. No detours this time. The ride home wasn’t nearly as much fun as their initial trip south.