“Give me a break. I’m twenty-four. How old are you?”
“Too damn old.”
“That’s a frame of mind that can be modified. Age as in ‘number’ is the same. I’m guessing based on your years in the service you’re thirty-eight to forty.”
“Turned forty-one.”
“That’s awesome. Perfect age.”
Turning my head I glance at her. “For what?”
“Well, everything. Maturity, you’re past all the stages little boys and young men are still struggling through. You know who you are and aren’t afraid to give and receive. You know what you stand for. You don’t need to impress anyone anymore.”
“What did you say your major in college is?”
“Behavioral science and Psychology.”
Fuck, another shrink. She and Bram would get along great.
“I can’t believe you know the bar. It’s such a happening place,” she continues. “Mister tall, dark, handsome, and silent? Hanging out at the beach bar? What do you do there? Sit in the corner and study everyone?”
Pretty much, but I’m not admitting it. “The wife of one of the guys I work with owns it. The team goes there a lot. Food’s good, so are the drinks. And I do talk, sometimes.”
She rolls her eyes. “Sometimes? It’s like an uphill battle to get you to say what you’re not saying. Just spit shit out. I’m not going to judge you or freak out.”
I just shake my head. “Depending on when the propane company will be here, I’ll take you today. At least, I promise we’ll go soon.”
Her smile hits me like a sledgehammer. Fuck, she’s beautiful and perfect. What I wouldn’t give to see her light up like that every day for the rest of my life.
CHAPTER 8
Norah
I can’t believe he knows the Sandy Sipper. It’s been months since I’ve been there. I’m not a big drinker but they have sand volleyball when the weather is good, and dancing. It’s casual and comfortable and single women can feel safe there. The staff all watch for harassment, and I heard they have rules based on the state laws to bar known sex offenders. The owner herself had some issues a few years ago and they take safety seriously. They even have someone walk guests to their cars.
Rake has just finished securing our two cabins when a sheriff’s department tow truck shows up. He has me wait in his truck while he talks to them and they hook my car up and drive away.
He climbs in beside me. “Because of what they found on Twila’s car, they want to go over your vehicle to compare. You are going to be safe. I’m here as long as you need as your maintenance man, chauffeur, bodyguard, whatever.
“The propane inspection has been delayed until tomorrow because they want officers on sight for that inspection as well since this is now being quietly treated as a murder investigation. We’re both sworn to secrecy until told otherwise.”
Murder. I was afraid, I had concerns, I had doubts. Now someone other than me has put voice to what my heart suspected. Unable to speak, I just nod.
He wraps his large hand over mine. “You are not alone. I’m here and I’ll stay until this is over.”
“Thank you.”
We make a stop at the home improvement store. He refuses to let me pay and says we’ll settle up later. He gets a grill to cover the generator, picks up a couple other odds and ends, and loads everything in the back of his truck.
Next, he takes us to a more industrial area of Love Beach that I’m unfamiliar with and pulls into what seems like a warehouse. Once the door closes behind us, the lights come on and several men come out of the shadows.
He places a hand over my clenched fist. “Welcome to HARDCORE Security, Love Beach Branch. These are my brothers-teammates and coworkers. You’ll never be safer than you are right now. We aren’t staying, but they have some more surveillance equipment for me. Then I’ll take you wherever you want to go and we can stop at the Sandy Sipper when we’re done.
“Stay put for just a minute.”
I nod.
Once he’s out the door the other men gather around him and there’s a wave of high-fives, back slapping and man hugs.
