Jaded (25 page)

When he flopped on his back, she cuddled in close. As he drifted into sleep, he thought he heard the stars spangling on the waves.

 • • • 

THE ALARM SHRIEKED
to life at exactly seven in the middle of radio personalities shouting over the latest celebrity-breakup scandal. With one hand Lucas scrabbled for the alarm, shutting it off by yanking the cord from the outlet in the wall.

“Don’t stop,” he growled, and tightened his grip on her hips. “Do. Not. Stop.”

Alana gave a throaty little laugh as she lifted herself to the tip of his cock, then glided down. The movement worked the head of his cock and wrenched a groan from his throat. “Like that?”

“Yes. Oh, fuck . . . like that.” He dug his heel into the smooth cotton sheet and thrust up.

She gasped, then braced her hands on his chest and rode him in earnest. She could probably feel his heart pounding against his ribs, but he could see her pulse racing at the base of her throat. Her head dropped forward, her hair hiding her expression, but then she tipped back, exposing the long line of her throat. “Oh yes,” she whispered. She slumped forward, breathless in release. “Lucas. Yes.”

The sound of his name in her mouth snapped his control. He wrapped his arms around her, rolled them, and drove into her once, twice. Again. She gave a satisfied little growl when he came.

“Jesus,” he said.

In the aftermath, her hand wound into his hair. “I like sleeping together,” she said smugly.

He grunted his agreement, then extracted himself from the tangle of her limbs and the sheets to dispose of the condom. “Christ,” he said when he got to his feet.

“Sure you’re up for rock climbing today?” she asked when he came out of the bathroom.

He slid her a glance, then snagged his shorts and underwear from the floor. Not even two rounds of sex in ten hours could dissipate his emotions about once again going rock climbing, but Alana didn’t know how much he used to love the sport, how a difficult climb took his mind off the stress of the job, how he hadn’t planned a trip to the Black Hills or the Rockies in years. “I’ll be fine,” he said.

She braced her head on her palm and looked at him. “You don’t have to go, you know.”

“What are you going to do today?” he asked as he buttoned his shorts.

“Help Marissa get ready later this afternoon, but before then, I’m going shopping,” she said. “I need to wrap my gift. I had time to pick it up but didn’t get it wrapped.”

“Would you get me a gift card holder?” He reached for his wallet and pulled out a gift card to an online bookstore. “Adam said in his e-mails they were buying e-books.”

“That’s thoughtful,” she said. “I’ll find something.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“Be safe today,” she said.

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. His ex-wife used to say the same thing every morning. “You never say that in Walkers Ford.”

“I guess I think climbing up a forty-foot sheer face is more dangerous than policing Walkers Ford.” Her eyes went distant. “I could be wrong, though. I wonder which situation results in more deaths annually, small-town police work or extreme sports.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Look it up and let me know when I get back. Because I will come back.”

“Good,” she said with a soft smile.

He made it back to his room without running into anyone, took a fast shower, and went down to the lobby to have breakfast. Nate was already at a table, the newspaper open beside him as he ate. His cell phone sat on the table beside the paper.

Lucas filled his plate. “Mind if I join you?”

“Please do,” Nate said. He gave him a quick, speculative glance that Lucas met with his best expressionless face, then Nate handed over the sections of the paper he’d finished. Nate checked the phone eight times in the ten minutes they sat in silence. Lucas counted, and wondered what was so interesting to the married man who wasn’t wearing his ring.

Adam arrived ten minutes early, making his way up from the small marina, past the pool, and into the lobby. “Sleep all right?” he said.

“Like a baby,” Nate said lightly.

“Fine,” Lucas said. “Ready for your last day as a single man?”

Adam huffed out a laugh. “Is it different? I’ve been with Ris for six months. I’ve loved her since we were teenagers. I’m hers. Forever. Vows won’t make any difference.”

Lucas arched an eyebrow at that rather flowery statement coming from the man who compared loyalty and fidelity to the unbreakable bonds forged in the Marine Corps, but he didn’t say anything. Adam was right. Vows didn’t make a difference. Vows didn’t sustain his marriage as it crumbled under the weight of devastation and failure. They didn’t sustain his marriage through a move from Denver to Walkers Ford. But a jaded divorced man didn’t say that kind of thing to a man so infatuated he lost his train of thought when his love walked into a room.

Beside them, Nate folded his paper precisely and got up for a second glass of orange juice. When he came back, he pulled printouts of route maps from under the newspaper. “When do you have to be back?”

“I need to pick up the rings before five tonight,” Adam said. “The ceremony’s at sunset. Get the rings, take a shower, be on the beach a few minutes early.”

Nate gave him a crooked smile. “Sounds easy enough.”

“Ris wanted a low-key beach wedding, and I wasn’t about to argue. The hotel arranges everything—chairs, flowers, the officiant, the cake. We bring in our own food. So it will be just like last night, except for the ceremony.”

“Must be nice,” Nate muttered under his breath. Lucas could only agree. His wedding had been fourteen months in the planning, a peak too high to sustain for the details of daily life after the honeymoon. He knew his marriage wouldn’t make it when his wife wanted to renew their vows two years after the first ceremony.

The rest of the group strolled in a couple of minutes before eight. Lucas found himself fading into the background as the Marines told stories, cracked jokes, and did the whole guy-bonding thing. They convoyed to the climbing shop and picked up their gear. The Marines were comfortable with ropes and rappelling, but none of them had his climbing experience. He quietly made suggestions and double-checked the gear before settling the bill with the shop’s owner.

“You’re good with them,” Nate said. Nate’s transition from
Lieutenant
to
Mister
hadn’t broken the chain of command. The younger guys all still looked to Nate and Adam for leadership, but both men openly deferred to Lucas’s greater experience.

“I used to lead hiking and climbing trips into the Rockies for the Boys and Girls Club,” Lucas said. “Fifteen kids from Denver’s inner city, me, and a program manager.”

Nate’s smile actually reached his eyes. “We’re in good hands, then.”

Mission Gorge was one of the largest urban parks in the country. They parked and hiked up the short trail to the Main Wall Center, where they split up into teams. In Lucas’s mind it was too early in the morning for anyone to start in on anything, but he’d forgotten exactly how one-track a twenty-one-year-old jacked-up kid’s mind was.

“You’ll be the one getting married soon.”

“No way, man,” Garrett said. “Getting married will interfere with my ability to fuck random women. Starting with the blonde back at the hotel. She’ll be an easy mark after the wedding. Sunset, wedding, a little alcohol . . .”

He didn’t see the gesture, but the tone of the whistles and catcalls told him enough. He wasn’t aware of thought or movement. One minute the conversation was background noise as he coiled ropes and checked harnesses, calmly dispassionate, totally under control. The next minute Bill Garrett was backed into the rock face with Lucas’s forearm at his throat. In the back of his mind, Lucas knew he looked like God’s own avenging angel because rather than fighting back, both of Bill’s hands were held up.

Total silence, other than the ground squirrels racing through the scrub brush surrounding the base of the rock. “Show the lady a little respect,” Lucas breathed.

“Yessir.”

It was a knee-jerk response trained into a kid by a drill sergeant, not a response to Lucas’s overpowering command presence. Lucas let his arm drop and took a step back, then another. Given a little space, Garrett eased away from the rock face, then stepped sideways to check on his gear. Conversation resumed, but quietly.

“You okay?” Adam said.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas said. He set his hands on his hips and looked at the dead needles under his feet as he shook his head. “I was out of line.”

“Yeah, well, he was over it,” Adam said. “Something going on with you and Alana?”

Fuck it. “Yeah,” he said. “How did you know?”

“You’re the only single man not looking at her,” Adam said with a laugh.

“Fuck,” he breathed. He tilted his head back and stared at the sky. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“That makes no sense at all.”

“It did at the time.”

But things had changed. He didn’t want them to have changed, but he’d long since given up on life performing to his whims and standards. After last night . . . things were different.

“You and Marissa weren’t exactly discreet,” he said.

“Ris didn’t give a damn what people thought about her. Still doesn’t.”

“Alana does.”

“She’s worried about her reputation in Walkers Ford?”

For him. They were different for him. She seemed perfectly happy to carry on exactly as they were. He’d sold himself out. “She’s a private person. And she doesn’t want to make waves in town. She’s going back to Chicago as soon as we get back, and she didn’t want to damage my reputation.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up, and he turned a laugh into a cough. “Thoughtful of her. And you went along with this . . . why?”

Lucas turned and looked at him because surely Adam got this. If the woman you wanted to sleep with had some random stipulation you didn’t give a rat’s ass about, why not agree? You got what you wanted. She got what she wanted. Simple enough.

“Okay, I know why.” Adam blew out his breath. “Still up for this?”

“Yeah. Give me a second.”

He walked over to the kid. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was out of line.”

Dull heat infused his face as Garrett yanked climbing gear out of his pack. “Is this some fucking game the two of you play? ’Cause I didn’t see a ring, and you didn’t talk to her at all last night.”

Not until he showed up at her hotel room door. “You didn’t miss anything.”

“Dude, that’s fucked up,” Garrett said, clearly aggrieved. “I’d never have said a word if . . . that’s not right.”

“I know,” he said, then held out his hand. “We good?”

Eyeing him warily, the kid shook his hand. “We’re good. Just don’t drop my ass at the base of this fucking cliff, yeah?”

Lucas smiled. “Don’t drop mine, either.”

“Deal.” Garrett smiled at him. “You’re fucking spooky. Like . . .
stealth
. You know that? No idea what you’re thinking or feeling. Nice. How do you pull that off, anyway?”

You watch a kid you’ve mentored through rock-climbing expeditions like this one say good-bye to his mother after he’s been sentenced to twenty-years-without-parole for armed robbery.

He tried to find the real smile from just seconds ago. “Let’s go.”

But if this kid doesn’t know how he feels, how would Alana? Did
he
even know how he felt?

11

A
LANA SET THE
plates holding slices of pound cake on the wrought iron table, then eased into a chair at the food court plaza in the Fashion Valley Mall. Adam’s mother set up napkins and silverware, then distributed the plates. Marissa followed with three coffee cups balanced in her hands.

“I’d forgotten how fun shopping can be,” Marissa said. “The biggest shopping trips I make these days are to grocery stores to lay in provisions before we leave port.”

“You’re happy with what you bought?” Alana asked as she squeezed honey packets into her tea.

“I am,” Marissa said. “A couple of new bathing suits, new shorts because I ripped my least tattered pair on the dock in Hawaii, and something for tonight.”

This last statement came with a sidelong glance at Darla.

“You’re very sweet to be so modest, but I am aware that you’re sleeping with my son,” she said, magnificently unconcerned. “I hope you bought something pretty.”

The nightgown was exquisite. Alana had recognized the lingerie brand in the window as one Freddie adored, and she’d firmly guided Marissa inside Henri Bendel. Marissa winced at the price tags, but decided she could set aside low-key for the wedding night. They’d left Darla to move at her own pace, examining fabrics and lines and designs—they bought the nightgown and spent the rest of the day wandering in the open air and sunshine.

“Did you get the ring?”

“I did,” Marissa said. She brought a dark blue jeweler’s box out of the zippered pocket in her purse and opened it. A simple gold band rested inside. Alana saw the date engraved into the band. “The gold’s going to get pretty scratched, but I like it. It’s traditional.”

“What about yours?” Alana asked. Marissa didn’t wear an engagement ring.

“The exact same ring, size four and a half,” she said, closing the box and stowing it safely away. “I don’t wear much jewelry, and when we’re done sailing, I’ll probably go back into construction work in one way or another. A setting will just snag on things, so I won’t wear it during the workday anyway. The more you take it off, the more likely you are to lose it.”

“Very practical,” Alana said, thinking of Freddie’s six-carat diamond from Harry Winston. Then she thought about Lucas’s grandmother’s missing ring, and Gunther’s stolen one. Tokens of affection given to mark momentous occasions, only to disappear. She’d ask Mrs. Battle to let her know if Lucas tracked down Gunther’s ring, but she didn’t know if she had the courage to ask Lucas to let her know if he ever found his grandmother’s.

Especially after last night—when Lucas appeared at her hotel room door, his mask of silent distance stretched so thin over emotions raging behind his eyes. She’d known he didn’t like the other men flirting with her. It made her uncomfortable, but she also didn’t know how to stop it. Every year thousands of girls fought for spaces at one of the elite boarding schools around the country. Attending a premier school had given her lots of educational opportunities, but learning how to deal with men on a casual basis wasn’t one of them. She’d been at a loss for how to tell Bill Garrett to ease up a little.