ELLEN SIGHED SOFTLY. The waves came and went from a deserted part of the curving La Jolla coastline. Their movement began to soothe her. Jim had stopped off at both of their apartments to get the proper clothing for their impromptu visit to the beach. He’d placed a faded rainbow-colored quilt his mother had made for him in the car. Near La Jolla, situated north of San Diego, they stopped at a liquor store and bought a bottle of white wine. At a 7-Eleven, Ellen bought some sharp cheddar cheese, pears and crackers. Sooner or later, they’d get a tad hungry, and she didn’t want to be starving to death as they lay on their blanket watching the sunset.
Lying on her stomach, Ellen cupped her chin in her hands and watched the white-and-gray gulls skim the dark blue waters beyond the breakers. The sun was setting, the sky a pale, diluted blue above turning to light salmon and then a thin red streak where the last rays had dipped below the mighty Pacific Ocean. The sunset looked like a layer cake composed of breath-stealing colors.
Jim lay inches away from her, eyes closed, his head resting on his crossed arms. Looking at the line of his mouth, she knew he was still thinking about what had happened earlier today.
The haunting cry of the seagulls made Ellen keenly aware of the sadness she knew they both continued to feel. Turning on her side, she lifted her hand and gently smoothed the short strands of his dark hair against his skull. His lashes fluttered slightly. His mouth relaxed. Ellen continued her ministrations, understanding that right now they needed a little tenderness and care from one another. She noticed how his navy T-shirt outlined his well-shaped chest. Jim wasn’t heavily muscled, but built like a sleek long-distance runner. On days when he could, she knew he jogged at least two or three miles, as well as worked out at a fencing salle once a week. He practiced épée, using the same type of blade as the Three Musketeers. In some ways, Jim was a throwback to the past, a hero in her eyes. There was a lean, quiet strength emanating from him, carefully hidden but powerful.
The roaring breakers spilled their foaming, bubbling life on the sloping golden sand. The salty breeze whispered across her skin. All these sounds conspired to make Ellen feel a subdued joy despite the heaviness in her heart. Sitting up, she poured the last of the Echo Canyon Vineyard chardonnay into their plastic glasses. Looking at the label of a cowboy silhouetted against the wall of a red sandstone canyon, Ellen smiled wryly. Who would have thought anyone could raise grapes in Arizona?
She was hungry to know more of Jim’s world. He’d taught her so much in just a few short weeks. Ellen hoped that some of her knowledge had transferred to him, as well.
“More wine?” she asked, setting the cup near his hands. He opened his eyes, which looked sleepy. He had to be worn-out, down to his soul. So was she. “It’s a great chardonnay. I really like it.”
Groaning, Cochrane rolled onto his side and took the proffered wine. He smiled up at her, raised the plastic cup and said, “To the purtiest gal in San Diego County…in California…why, in the whole U.S. of A….” He drank.
Ellen smiled at his toast. Running her tongue across her lower lip, she said, “This stuff is really good. How did you come to know wines so well?”
With a lazy look, Cochrane eased upward and crossed his legs, their bare feet barely touching. “My pa always made moonshine, but my ma, well, she liked the grapes. We had a patch of ’em out back. Every year she’d make about a hundred bottles of red and white wines. Everyone in the county came to her door, let me tell you. She never sold it. She gave it away to people she knew who really loved good-tasting wine. I guess I inherited her curiosity about types of grapes, the way a bottle was shaped, wine tasting and things like that.”
“You’re a man of immense curiosity,” she said, finishing the contents of her cup. Ellen put it back into the old, dilapidated picnic basket that Jim had said was given to him by his grandmother when he left for the Navy.
Shrugging, feeling the wind riffling pleasantly through his hair, Cochrane looked overhead. The sky was turning a darker blue. His mouth stretched faintly as he lowered his chin and met Ellen’s gaze. “What I’m looking at is incredible. You. I’m curious about you, too. You know so much about things I don’t.” He lifted his cup for a sip.
“I think we complement one another in an oddball but positive way,” Ellen agreed with a soft smile. The breeze blew several curls into her eyes, and she pushed them away. The sun had set, leaving the horizon striated with red and purple.
“That’s a fact. You don’t have to be a lawyer to know that.” Cochrane chuckled dryly over his own joke.
Warming to his teasing, Ellen watched as he finished his wine and placed the cup back in the basket. “I’m so glad we came here. I keep thinking that this was what Susan loved to do—come sit by the ocean and let the cares of the world slide off her shoulders, if only for a minute.”
“She needed something to lift that unbearable load she’d carried from the day she was born.” Cochrane held out his arms. “Come here, gal. Let me hold you while we watch the sky turn colors.”
Nothing had ever felt so right to Ellen. She was no longer afraid. No ripples of anxiety coursed through her. Perhaps because of the intensity of the investigation, the pressure and stress to get it solved, perhaps because of the horrible killings at the O Club, she wanted Jim’s nearness. Snuggling into his arms, her spine against his chest, she leaned back on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“Mmm, this is perfect, Jim. Thanks for suggesting it.”
He wrapped his arms around her, and she grasped his forearms. They were thickly haired and she explored them slowly, feeling the leap of muscles wherever she touched. Quiet strength. Yes, that was what Jim Cochrane was all about. He never showed off or bragged about the power of his hands, the knowledge in his head. Ellen like that about him.
“I was just thinking to myself how quiet and strong you are,” she said. “I never did like braggarts. Neanderthals like Hodges and Michelson.”
Leaning down, Jim pressed a kiss to her curly hair. It tickled his lips and cheek. With a slight chuckle, he rested his chin lightly against her shoulder. “My ma always said I held my cards close to my chest.”
“I like your ma a lot. She’s a woman with common sense.”
“She’d like you.” He inhaled Ellen’s special fragrance—a sweet, womanly scent that made him yearn to taste her.
“Hill people are unique,” Ellen said, snuggling against him. She could feel the sandpapery texture of his cheek. Her heart fluttered with desire, and her pulse bounded erratically as he pressed a series of soft kisses from her cheek to her jawline. Then she felt him pull away and wait.
Understanding that he would do no more unless she gave him the go-ahead, Ellen sighed. “Jim?”
“What is it, gal?”
Lifting her chin, she opened her eyes. He was so close. So male. So sexy. Those dark gray eyes studied her intensely. The crashing waves seemed to muffle all other sounds, and she felt as if they were the only two people in the world.
The rich red, purple and golden hues of sunset filled the sky. The refreshing salt breeze played with her hair. “I want to love you here, now.”
There, the words were out. Ellen’s heart seemed to stop beating momentarily as she anxiously searched his face. His black pupils became huge in the gray crescents of his irises. And then his look became hooded and intense. She’d felt his arms tighten momentarily. Had she said the wrong thing? Was it too soon? Was this some kind of crazy infatuation caused by her widowhood and grief? Ellen had no answers. She only knew what her heart wanted.
“I want the same thing, gal.”
Nodding, she licked her lower lip. Instantly his eyes focused on her mouth. “Jim, this has never happened to me before, this instant attraction to a man. I didn’t come to the West Coast to have a serious relationship. It was the furthest thing from my mind. I’ve finally come to the conclusion that I wasn’t aware I was ready to begin living again after Mark’s death.” Ellen touched her heart. “Grief takes its own time. So many people think it’s over in a year, but it never is. It’s been two years since Mark left me. Somehow, unconsciously, I’ve finally laid him and our life together to rest, here in my heart. I’ll always remember what we had.”
“Rightfully so,” Cochrane murmured, listening to her husky voice. “What you had should never be forgotten. Good marriages are hard to come by, and losing the man you love is a terrible deal.”
“Yes,” Ellen whispered, giving him a sad smile. “I’m so glad you understand. I was ready for the right man to walk into my life, but completely unconscious of the fact. And never in a thousand years did I believe I’d find someone like you, Jim. I thought I’d be a widow the rest of my life, because men like Mark don’t grow on trees.”
Her body ached for Jim’s touch. His mouth…
Cochrane looked beyond her to the sea. The water was darkening now, the colors beginning to fade. After scanning the beach, he was confident they were completely alone. Returning his attention to her, he said, “I know that. Trust me, it wasn’t on my priority list to fall for another woman, either. It just sort of…blossomed.”
“Yeah,” Ellen agreed, running her fingers along his forearms to his strong wrists and then trailing them upward once more. “Are you going to be sorry if I turn around and begin to undress you?”
Chuckling, Cochrane said, “Let’s find out….”
She met his bold grin with one of her own. It was so easy to leave his embrace, turn around and kneel between his spread legs. The sunset cast red hues across their universe. The beach was their own. She gave him a mischievous look. “I think we’re alone—at last….” In one smooth motion, she stood up. “Come on!”
He gave her a startled look. “What?”
Ellen shimmied out of her shorts and pulled off her white tank top. Dropping them, she grinned down at him. “I’m just dying to jump into the ocean. Come with me? Let’s skinny-dip!”
With a pleased chuckle, Cochrane got to his feet. As Ellen pulled off her white silk camisole and panties, he said, “Red-haired women are notorious for their spontaneity.”
Giggling, Ellen leaped away as he reached out to grab her. “I’ll keep you on your toes, Mr. Cochrane.” She watched as he pulled off his T-shirt. Indeed, he was a man who worked out. She liked what she saw.
“Hurry!” she pleaded. He responded by pushing off his shorts and then his briefs. With a wave of her hand, she dashed down the beach. The wind tugged at her hair and caressed her skin as she ran. Oh, how wonderful it felt to be free again!
With a leap, Ellen landed knee-deep in the cooling ocean. The foamy waves flowed and surged around her. Gasping, she quickly plunged forward in a dive, closing her eyes.
The thrill of the cool water gliding across her naked body made her feel more like a dolphin than a human. Moments later she felt the water on her right surge, and she turned in that direction. Jim was only a few feet away. She laughed and pushed her streaming hair back from her face. Wiping the salt water from her eyes, she stood up in the hip-deep surf, which boiled and eddied around them.
Seeing the wicked smile on Jim’s face, Ellen lunged toward him. Opening his arms, he took her full weight. At the same instant, a wave crashed down upon them.
Swallowing water, Ellen felt herself being dragged under. Instantly, Jim released her and pushed her toward the surface. Sand and grit churned around her legs for a moment, and then the tide washed it away.
Bobbing to the surface, Ellen coughed, spat and found her footing. The wave had propelled them a few feet closer to the shore. Standing once more, she ran her fingers through her hair.
The crimson colors of sunset bathed Jim as he stood up and wiped the worst of the saltwater from his eyes. The teasing smile on his face, the predatory look in his gaze made her laugh with the pure joy of living. In that moment, Ellen felt like a child again, free and willful, unafraid to follow her heart.
This time, she boldly walked up to him. As she drew close, he snaked out his arms and slid them around her waist. The sudden warmth and strength of his male body against her feminine form made her sigh. As he lifted her upward, Ellen framed Jim’s face with her hands.
Without a word, she closed her eyes, leaned over and captured his mouth with hers. The sounds of the ocean broke around her. She heard the waves crashing as she pressed her mouth wantonly to his. His body was hard and insistent against her belly. Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his hips. Deepening the kiss, she slid her tongue inside his mouth, and felt him groan.
The salt water mingled with the wetness of their mouths. She felt him shift her, until he brought her down upon him ever so slowly. For a moment, Ellen tensed. It had been so long since she’d made love. And Jim was sensitive enough to understand that.
The cooling water lapped around them, between them. The world was turning a deep purple, chased by the night. As Ellen lifted her lashes and looked deeply into Jim’s stormy eyes, she used the power of the next wave to move down upon him and absorb him into her.
The union of water and heated flesh matched that of their throbbing bodies. Another wave lifted them, flowing powerfully, like cooling hands against their skin. She felt Jim anchor his feet and brace himself as the next wave surged.
Smiling against his mouth, Ellen moved her hips in suggestive, rhythmic movements. His groan was like a drumroll crashing through her. Holding him, kissing his mouth, his closed eyes, licking his lower lip all conspired to release her in a way she’d never experienced before. The ocean seemed to breathe with them. The water, cool and invigorating against the enflamed heat of their bodies, urged them to new heights of abandon in the embrace of Nature herself.
Moments later, Ellen cried out. She tensed like a tightly drawn bow against Jim’s body. He held her, moved within her, prolonging her climax until she moaned in relief and exhaustion, her brow resting against his. Only then did he groan and hold her tightly—so tightly the air rushed from her lungs. And then yet another wave caught them and they were swept off their feet.
Laughing as she came up for air, Ellen was dragged back into Jim’s arms. He laughed with her. Splashing out of the ocean, their arms around one another, they raced up the dark, spongy beach, where the foam looked like a white necklace of lace in the darkening dusk.
“Fantastic!” Ellen cried, grinning as she walked toward the blanket where their clothes were spread.
“More than that,” Cochrane said. He squeezed her and smiled.
The breeze was softer now. Ellen felt overheated, her body tingling, the flow of life once more surging through her. She had thought her life was over when Mark had died, but that wasn’t true. As she and Jim dashed up the dry sand toward the blanket, she laughed joyously. Gazing at him, she realized how much younger he looked. No longer was there that seriousness and sadness in his eyes. For once she saw only happiness.
As they dressed, Ellen thought of Susan Kane. Perhaps this was the best way to acknowledge her life—by taking risks and daring to live themselves. Susan had been a risk taker in some ways, but in others, she had remained a prisoner. While Ellen pulled on her clothes, she silently said goodbye to the courageous female aviator who had truly been a role model for so many girls with similar dreams.
Ellen knew that those girls would grow up to live their own dreams. That was the best accolade to give Susan Kane. Women who would walk in her footsteps. Aspire to the stars.
“Hey, how about stopping at that hot dog stand at the other end of La Jolla? I could use a mug of hot coffee.”
Turning, Ellen looked at Jim, then stepped into his embrace. It felt good to have his arms go around her, hold her and rock her. Running her fingers through his damp hair, she pushed several strands aside.
“I’d love nothing more.”
“A cup of coffee, a hot dog and thou…”
“A man who can quote Shakespeare. You gotta love him.”