I hang a quick left, zipping in front of oncoming traffic. Miraculously, no one honks. In NYC, that move would have elicited an orchestra of angry horns.
Speeding down the street, I spot the bright green awning of the smoothie place, a happy frog smiling at future customers. I pull into a spot right in front of the window and peer in. A mom and her two young children sit at a white metal table, but no Bennett.
“Shit.” I curse under my breath.
“Not there, huh?” Callum’s voice surprises me—I forgot he’s still on the line.
“No. Not here.”
“This is a long shot but maybe try the beach. He’s been talking about spending more time in nature.”
I roll my eyes but steer the Rover east toward the ocean. The weather’s perfect, a crisp sixty-five degrees with a light breeze and full sunshine. A great beach day.
Parking at the public beach access, I grab my phone and lock the car behind me. I jog down the wooden boardwalk, pausing at the stairs and glancing down the long stretch of white sand. The salt air hits my nostrils—sharp and clean, cutting through the panic buzzing in my chest. The turquoise water glitters in the bright sunlight, waves lapping at the sand in a steady rhythm.
Would be relaxing if I weren’t about to murder Bennett.
Only a few people are in sight. A young family with toddlers building sandcastles near the water’s edge. A couple walking a playful yellow lab. A few joggers logging their miles for the day.
Jogger.
One particular jogger’s heading my direction, about six-foot-five, broad and muscular, with sandy waves blowing in the wind.
Bennett.
Panic leaks from my body, tension dissipating quickly. Relief floods my system for a quick second, then anger takes over. Worry turns to fury in a single heartbeat.
Fists balled, I march down the steps toward Bennett, doing my best to stomp across the soft sand.
I’m almost caught up to him, chest heaving from exertion and rage.
“Hey, Sunshine.” Bennett’s voice is calm and easy, his face cracking into a broad smile. Unworried, tiny beads of sweat dotting his smooth, stress-free brow.
Jackass.
“Rule number ten, Bennett. GPS location remains on at all times.”
“What?” A crease forms between his brows as he fishes his phone from his pocket. “Shit. Cell’s dead. Kinda feels like I should get a pass this time.”
“A pass? A pass?” I hiss the words, anger bubbling in my chest. “I spent the last forty-five minutes searching all over town for your ass. All because you couldn’t be bothered to charge your damn phone?”
“Chill out. No big deal. I went for a run on the beach — didn’t even talk to anyone. Let alone throw hands.”
“Not the point, Bennett.” I grind my molars, fuming.
He doesn’t read the room, stepping closer to me. Close enough I catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the salt air. My heart pounds harder. His gaze flicks over my face, taking in the wild hair, the dark circles beneath my eyes. Something shifts in his expression, just for a brief second.
“What is the point, Sunshine? Were you worried about me?” His voice drops low, and a flash of something shoots through me.
Irritation? Anger? Or something else I’d rather not name, his deep blue eyes boring into me?
“No. Yes. But only because I need you to stay on the grid. Follow the playbook. If you don’t screw up, we’ll both be free.”
The words come out sharper than I intend. Bennett blinks, and I swear there’s a flicker of disappointment in his baby blues.
“Whatever you say, Sunshine. Won’t happen again. Rule number ten, addendum A: charge cell phone fully every night.”
“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” I smooth my hair back, finally regaining a semblance of composure.
