Officer in Pursuit (4 page)

Which was exactly what it was supposed
to be, but Kerry couldn’t just hop on top of Grey – after all, who
actually played chicken in real life?

Grey held out a hand, beckoning her.
“Come on, we can beat them – we’ll avenge you for real.”

The water was calm, just gentle,
rolling waves that undulated in shades of blue and green. One
lapped against Grey’s shoulder, but he just grinned and shook off
the water, waiting for her to come to him.

“I’ve never played before,” she said.
“We’ll probably lose.”

Grey looked affronted. “With triceps
like yours? No way. I know you’re stronger than you
look.”

His compliment left her feeling
ridiculously giddy. As seawater lapped around her shoulders, she
was actually tempted to give in for once – to stop being such a
killjoy and let herself have fun. Even if it was just for a minute.
She wasn’t the kind of person who’d normally find herself getting
caught up in something so clearly goofy, and more than a little
flirtatious, but…

It might be nice to
pretend.

Alicia was already on top of Liam’s
shoulders, grinning with her long legs tucked under his muscular
arms. “C’mon Kerry – I’ve never played before either. We’re evenly
matched.”

Liam was less generous with his
encouragement. “If you don’t want to play, fine, but since you
suggested it, Grey, your team will lose by forfeiture.”

Grey’s jaw dropped, and he met Kerry’s
eyes, silently pleading.

She took a deep breath, managing not
to swallow any sea water, and took the plunge. She reached for his
sun-warmed body, laid a hand on the powerful swell of muscle that
was his shoulder. It was thrilling and awkward all at once, but she
climbed up, faced her best friend above the rippling
waves.

Grey held onto her legs, and she felt
a million feet tall – above the entire world, even though waves
were hitting her toes. She’d always been small-framed, but there
was no denying the strength it took for Grey to stand the way he
was: like she weighed nothing at all. He stood easily, cut through
the water. “Bring it on. We’re ready.”

Kerry wasn’t so sure. She was reeling
from the feel of his body beneath hers, all hard muscle that hadn’t
been cooled in the slightest by the ocean water. He was big – a
couple inches taller than Liam, and probably a good twenty pounds
heavier. That helped make up for the fact that ordinarily, Alicia
towered over Kerry.

It happened fast – Grey and Liam moved
forward, and Alicia reached for Kerry with a muted shriek of
laughter.

Kerry tangled arms with her, surprised
at how secure she felt with Grey holding her legs against his
chest. They struggled for a few seconds, and Alicia’s balance
faltered. She attempted to right herself as she slipped to the
left, but it was too late – Kerry gave her a gentle shove, and she
plunged into the water.

Liam pulled her to the surface, shot a
rueful look at Grey and Kerry. “Best out of three.”

“You’re on.” Grey answered
immediately, then gave Kerry’s leg a squeeze. “Don’t show them any
mercy. We got this.”

“I won’t.” Her earlier case of nerves
had ebbed away – mostly – the moment Alicia had hit the water. Now,
she was immersed in the moment, glad it wasn’t over. Best out of
three? A part of her wanted to stay up there all day.

But she didn’t. Alicia knocked her
down after the brief struggle that was Round 2, and she hit the
water with a splash that was drowned out by Grey’s
groan.

He was still looking stricken when he
grabbed one of her hands and pulled her toward the surface, toward
him.

Alicia was still high in the air, her
hair glowing with a golden halo of sunlight. “Ha!”

Liam was smirking.

“Let them have their little moment of
hope,” Grey said. “They’re going to be crushed here in a
minute.”

Climbing back up onto Grey’s shoulders
wasn’t nearly as awkward as it had been the first time, even if it
did send a volley of butterflies speeding through her
stomach.

Round 3 was a desperate battle of
wills, punctuated by Alicia’s shrieking laughter and the guys’
splashing as they shifted to maintain balance. Kerry laughed too –
couldn’t help it. Especially since she knew she was going to win.
Alicia was a notorious klutz, and sitting on Liam’s shoulders
didn’t save her from her own poor balance. After a breathless half
a minute, she went tumbling into the sea.

“Yes!” Grey did something like a
victory lap through the water, still carrying Kerry on his
shoulders. “Losers! Ha!”

Kerry was breathless, victorious – for
a moment, completely and ridiculously happy. Then an especially
large wave rolled up on Grey and broke against his shoulder. The
spray hit Kerry’s cheek and sent Grey into a coughing
fit.

His hold on her legs loosened, and she
clambered down, slipping into the water.

Already, she missed the heat and
hardness of his body against hers. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, fine.” He coughed a little
longer, rubbed water out of his eyes.

Alicia and Liam were shaking with
laughter.

“How’s that victory treating you?”
Liam asked. “Taste anything like salt water?”

“Say what you want,” Grey replied, “it
won’t change the fact that you lost.”

They didn’t play again, but they did
stay in the water. The sun kept shining, the waves kept rolling,
and by the time they got out, it was because everyone was
starving.

As usual, Sasha had prepared a
gluttonous spread that could’ve sustained the entire beach. The
coolers were with her and Henry, holding the corners of the beach
blanket down.

“Hey,” Sasha said as Kerry, Grey,
Alicia and Liam approached, “no one said you guys were planning to
play chicken.”

“We didn’t know you were interested,”
Alicia said, opening a cooler full of sweet tea, water and soda on
ice.

Sasha made a huffing sound. “It’s like
you don’t even know me. For future reference, I want to be included
in any game that gives me an excuse to get wet while sitting on
Henry’s shoulders.”

The bottom dropped right out of
Kerry’s stomach, and her face was suddenly on fire. She reached
blindly into the cooler full of drinks and grabbed the first cold
thing she touched. Then she hid her face behind the can, knowing
full well that she was the only one truly embarrassed by what Sasha
had said.

Everyone else was used to the things
that came out of her mouth.

“Kerry!” Sasha rounded on her, her
blonde ponytail whipping the air. “Do my eyes deceive me, or are
you drinking soda?”

Everyone stared.

The burning in Kerry’s cheeks
intensified, and she could only hope they’d mistake it for sunburn.
She always went for bottled water, hadn’t had soda in ages.
“Everything in moderation,” she said, flipping back the tab on her
Dr. Pepper.

The sweet burn of it on her tongue was
an alien flavor she hadn’t tasted in years. It was oddly
exhilarating, much like their water games had been.

She couldn’t blame Sasha for being
surprised. Today – for just one afternoon – she felt like a
different person. And although she knew it couldn’t last, she liked
it.

CHAPTER 3

Grey’s swim shorts were too small. He
realized that now.

They were his usual size, but when
he’d bought them he hadn’t accounted for the extra space his
perma-hard-on from hell would take up. There was no question about
it: positioning himself so that his dick wasn’t the first thing
people noticed about him was an art form.

It’d started in the water. Kerry had
climbed up onto his shoulders, wrapped her legs around him and sent
most of his blood rushing below his belt. With waves lapping around
his waist, it hadn’t been a big deal. The hardness had lingered
after their game of chicken though, prompting him to linger in the
water, swimming in an attempt to exhaust himself past the point of
being able to maintain an erection.

It hadn’t worked. At best, it’d taken
him down to half-mast, and then he’d noticed that he could see
Kerry’s nipples poking against her swimsuit when the fabric was
wet.

He’d been doomed from there on
out.

Now, he moved stiffly – pun intended –
as he helped pack up the group’s beach stuff. The sky was streaked
bright pink, the color of evening spreading over the Atlantic. It
was a pink like the inside of a seashell, tinged neon by the
setting sun.

Grey hefted a cooler into a position
that conveniently blocked his crotch from sight.

“Need a hand?” Kerry was right beside
him.

“No, I got this.” He flashed her a
smile, tried and failed not to look at her chest.

Her swimsuit was
dry.
Damn it
. But
there was so much of her that was so beautiful that he kept staring
anyway, forgetting all about the sunset. It was nothing compared to
her.

She turned away to pick up a bag full
of disposable utensils and paper plates.

Grey watched her go, walking behind
her. She’d tied a sarong around her hips, but it didn’t disguise
the graceful shape of her body.

They loaded the picnic supplies into
the back of Henry’s blue Dodge Ram, which was parked by the
boardwalk. Liam and Henry lifted the other coolers in, and Alicia
and Sasha handled the blankets and a couple chairs. When everything
was packed, the only remaining sign of their presence on the beach
that day was footprints in the sand.

The group’s other vehicles – including
Grey and Kerry’s cars – waited in spaces surrounding Henry’s truck.
Grey looked at the vehicles, then at Kerry. Eventually, he shifted
his gaze to the pier that stretched out into the water,
weather-worn timber standing high above the rolling waves, framed
by the neon sunset. Still no clouds in the sky – just the water and
all that brilliant color, like a painting rolling and shimmering
around them.

“Hey.” He turned to Kerry, not ready
to let the moment or the opportunity slip away. “Want to walk out
onto the pier and watch the sunset?”

He felt strangely nervous as he waited
for her reply. The day had kicked ass – having breakfast with Kerry
alone, and then feeling her legs wrapped around his shoulders, all
sun-warmed skin and slim muscle. He still wasn’t sure how he’d
pulled that one off. Surely, after all that, watching the sunset
together wouldn’t be a huge deal.

During the day, he’d felt her walls
come down just a little. He liked what he’d seen beyond
them.

Maybe he was greedy, but he wanted to
see more, wanted to be more to her. He wasn’t ready to let the day
go yet.

Her gaze locked with his and sent a
little electric bolt through the center of his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I have to
go.”

* * * * *

September was fading fast, but summer
was lingering in the form of long, rainy days and humid heat.
Kerry’s hair was sheet-straight, completely devoid of any tendency
to curl, but even she had battled a hint of frizz that morning.
She’d smoothed her hair back into a ponytail, where it would be out
of the way as she worked.

The light rain and accompanying fog
cast the Wisteria Plantation House and its grounds in shades of
grey. Kerry marched over the slick grass, shoes squeaking against
freshly-mown blades. She carried her purse under one arm, held the
lightest of hooded sweaters shut over her shirt as she made her way
toward the historic mansion. It was ghost-white in the brooding
fog, its porch columns rising out of the mist as they had been for
the better part of 200 years.

The yard was deserted, overnight
guests, visitors and employees driven indoors by the
weather.

Still, Kerry wasn’t alone.

The same mist that clung to her cheeks
eddied around a figure in front of the porch, toward the right. She
stood in the same place each morning, as predictable as the rising
sun. A familiar figure in white that blended with the fog, she was
dark-haired and bare-headed, a beauty exposed to the elements that
couldn’t touch her. The Lady in White. Elizabeth.

Kerry liked to think of her by her
name. Not as a legend or someone who’d been dehumanized by the
nature of her death and the many years gone by, but a woman who had
lived and loved and had had it all torn brutally away from her. A
person, just like anyone else … even if she had been dead for well
over a century.

Kerry stared, just for a second. She
always did – never quite got used to seeing someone who wasn’t
supposed to be a part of this world anymore. It was an incredible
thing – so incredible that she’d never told a soul. These quiet,
otherworldly moments were only hers and Elizabeth’s.

She climbed the porch stairs, leaving
Elizabeth behind. It was strange that she imagined an emotional
connection between herself and Elizabeth Jewell. She knew that. But
the woman – the spirit – had watched her walk into the Wisteria
Plantation house every day for the past three years.