image
image
image

Chapter Sixteen

image

A FEW MINUTES later they met up with Susan, Slate, Stone, and Bowie, and then followed the flattened path through the bush behind the house that led to the private beach.

Duke had walked to the beach beforehand and scoped out the surroundings, deliberating how high the possibility of visitors stumbling up the path would be. There were neighbors on each side of Susan’s property, but the large acreage gave each property their own private beach area and high chances of not running into each other. The house to the north had a fence built around their property and the house to the south stood further away.

His previous exploration didn’t stop Duke from staying at the back of the lineup now as they weaved between the trees and long grass.

Sage trailed along beside him, like his new best friend, platonic but with a friendly bounce in her step. He sensed the resentment she’d carried before their visit to his childhood home had evaporated now. Her anger had turned to empathy. They’d hardly scraped the surface of all that had occurred in that house that night. She had no idea the coward he’d been, running away to hide before his father’s hands tightened around his own throat.

Even at his young age, Duke had sensed aspects of the terror around him. He could tell his father’s mood by simply observing the way he walked, breathed, talked, or even looked at any given moment. He anticipated the impact of his father’s punches before they made contact. He could predict whether the punishment would be mild or severe. His sense of foresight had been how he’d known to hide that day. None of his father’s actions had matched up to what Duke had been used to. He’d never seen the empty, distant look on his father’s face that he saw that day. A look that still haunted him in his sleep.

Regardless of his past and all the memories flooding back, he’d really screwed up today taking advantage of Sage in the barn. No excuse would release him of the guilt building up inside him. He battled a raging war of wanting to wrap his arms around her and never let go again, to hating himself for his lack of control when it came to her. Lack of control he could only label as the one thing he’d tried to avoid his entire life: love.

She’d said it plain and simple not five minutes ago and the simple word fit. She wasn’t a drug like she’d compared him to. He’d fallen in love with her all those years ago and even now he felt the same strong pull toward her. One he couldn’t—wouldn’t—explore. He was happy for her, and if he could get her back to her mother in one piece, he’d have done the best thing for her.

Besides, was his version of love actually the definition of love? He would be the first to admit he wasn’t like the average person. He found everyday casual encounters with people difficult. Things she defined as a serious relationship, such as having date or sleeping over without sex, scared the shit out of him. Hell, even last night he’d sat on the couch across from her and watched her all night instead of sleeping himself. He was pretty sure that wasn’t anyone’s version of love.

“You should’ve changed,” Sage said. “At least take off your jacket and roll up your sleeves.” 

He was having a difficult enough time wishing she hadn’t changed. Her long legs teased him with her every step and the see-through tank top outlined the turquoise bikini underneath boosting up her large breasts. Breasts his mouth could still taste.

“I don’t need to change,” he barked. How undisciplined had he become that he couldn’t go for a simple walk with a client without desire playing a taunting game in his mind.

“We’re going to the beach. You’re going to be sweating buckets. Do you even own shorts?”

“Yes.”

“Do you wear them?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“When I work out.”

She smiled again and nudged his side. “Relax Duke. Think of this like a vacation. You can swim, roast on the beach, and collect beach glass.”

What the hell was beach glass? 

“You should’ve seen him on his vacation,” Stone yelled over his shoulder. “It was painful to watch. Just the other night he broke some guys nose for harassing a girl at Bucks. He doesn’t know how to shut off work mode.” 

“That asshole had it coming,” Duke said.

“You’re one to talk.” Bowie elbowed Stone’s side, nearly sending the sand chairs he had slung over his other shoulder to the ground. 

“I’m not the one with the camera in my bag,” he teased back, wrapping his free arm around Bowie’s shoulder. She leaned into him and Duke found himself pissed off he couldn’t do the same with Sage. Pissed off she didn’t want him.  Pissed off he’d been an idiot to think he needed to keep her at bay, when all along it had been him. 

A motion at his side made him look down at Sage. She brought her finger to her open mouth and made gagging motions in silence. It cracked a smile on Duke’s face. 

“That’s vacation mode,” Sage said. “A smile and swimming. A good dip in the water takes away all your worries.”

“You’re just full of wisdom today.”

She touched her hand to her chest. “I do actually know how to vacation.” She winked at him. “I’ll teach you.”

Duke looked ahead. “No.”

They reached the edge of the brush, and the sun beat down harder in the open space. Duke perused the sand for any footsteps that hadn’t been there the day he’d done his rounds. The trees circled around them, almost touching the water’s edge, but left a space on both sides of the shoreline only visible when you stood by the water.

They made a row of chairs. Duke helped anchor beach umbrellas in the sand for shade over the chairs, one for the cooler of drinks, and one for the food bags.

He was accustomed to being fully dressed in a suit and in security mode. He’d never paid attention to the fun his clients had, only attentive that no one interrupted them. Today he felt different. He couldn’t pinpoint if it was the result of visiting his childhood home or being in such close quarters with Sage. As he watched Stone carry a laughing, but objecting Bowie, to the water’s edge, he was certain, for a brief moment, he wanted to shamelessly feel all those emotions with only one woman.

What the hell was wrong with him?

If he wasn’t currently on the job he’d take time away to regroup his emotions and get them in check before he moved forward. He didn’t have the freedom to recharge, so he remained focused on his task: protecting Sage.

“I’m going for a walk.” Sage pulled her towel out of the bag and laid it over her chair before she plopped her bag on top. “Maybe we’ll find some beach glass.” She began walking backwards away from him, her eyes sparkling the same baby blue as the water behind her.

He followed and her smile widened. “See, you have no choice but to do what I do, go where I go. You’re bound to get into vacay mode by the end of the day.”

“I’ll stick to keeping you alive.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take off your jacket?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe rid your shoes and socks? Roll up your pants? Step in the water, Duke, it’s amazing.”

“No.”

She shrugged, turned to face the beach and kicked her sandals off along the way, paying no attention to where they landed. Duke stayed a close distance to Sage while his concentration split to four spots around them that required monitoring for unannounced visitors. These areas included each side of the beach edge where the space was open, the pathway they’d come down which could easily be traveled, and off to the right where he’d spotted an area where the grass looked worn down. Although his job involved mostly watching his client, he generally spent more time checking surroundings and other people’s behavior. With Sage, he found it a challenge to take his eyes off her.

She found a long stick along the shoreline and used it to comb the pebbles and shells aside as she walked slowly along the beach edge, apparently looking for “beach glass.” Duke stayed rooted on the sand, his arms stationed in front of him with his hands locked, eyes hidden behind reflective sunglasses.

South beach edge, north beach edge, patted down area on the right, path behind them. Check.

When his eyes returned to Sage, he watched her feet sink into the wet sand and leave footprints the waves would wash away. 

“I found one!” She dropped her stick to bend over, squealing as she picked through the stones.

“Look.” She bounded toward him, fist squeezed tightly until she stopped at him. She held her hand open and a small piece of frosted blue glass, no bigger than a grain of rice, sat in the middle of her palm. She proudly turned the piece over. “It’s small, but beautiful.” Her eyes met his with the same color reflecting. “Can I have my phone to take a picture.”

“I don’t have your phone.”

“Your phone?”

“Sage.”

“There’s a woman my mom knows who makes jewelry out of beach glass. She’s amazing. She silversmiths them into silver pedants. It would be nice when I give her the pieces to include some pictures of them in their original state. It’s sort of like marketing, you know. She can share the picture with her finished product on social media to draw interest, etcetera. I don’t have to take the picture. You take it.”

“I don’t waste my battery energy on photos.” What if they had an emergency? Maybe the sniper would show up, shoot someone and he’d wasted his battery taking pictures of glass.

Sage yelled over his shoulder, “Do any of you have a cell phone?” Every person in the group held theirs up. “I think we’re covered. I’m going to set it up.”

Set it up? What the hell did that mean?

She skipped back to the wet sand, forcing Duke to shed his shoes and socks. He rolled his pant legs up to prevent the waves from splashing them. He’d never felt hot sand between his toes, never walked bare foot across the pebbles, or watched his feet sink into wet sand. Each new experience messed with his head a bit, questioning his lifestyle.

He slid his sunglasses up in his hair. Sage was bent down moving rocks and shells around the tiny shard of smooth glass. She looked like a water princess with the hair from her ponytail tumbling over her bare shoulders and one arm leaned on her bent knee. Holding his cell phone, for the first time in his life, he took a photo for no other purpose than wanting to physically look back on this moment. A memory.

“Right here.” She formed her fingers in a square shape with the beach glass as the focal point as she stood up beside him. He thought he’d be done with one photo. He was wrong. 

“No, closer,” she said.  

He held his hand out further and snapped. 

“No, sort of angle it this way.” Her warm fingers touched his and her body brushed against his side. Her hands moved right, left, a little up, more back as she positioned the camera to where she wanted it.

“Yes, perfect.” She tilted her head to face him. Now they were only inches apart. “Right there,” she said softly, but her eyes didn’t move. His didn’t move. It felt like everything around them paused in those seconds. They were the only ones on the beach, as it had been all the times they’d snuck away. But, he reminded himself, he was nothing more than a drug to her. 

He broke eye contact and snapped the picture. “Here, you take the next one.” He handed her phone and stepped away from her into the waves that splashed up his calves. He slid his sunglasses back down to his face.

Her eyes glanced down at his pants. “That’s one step closer to getting you in the water,” she teased but he heard the strain.