That was one of his fondest memories of Whisper, both as a kid and as a teen. His father and Uncle Dan had taught the brothers how to fish as soon as they were old enough. There had been countless trips out on charter boats or just on the beach and piers to cast their lines. It never mattered how much they caught, but there was always a money pool for the biggest fish reeled in. When they were young, it had been a dollar each, but now it ranged anywhere from twenty to a hundred dollars, depending on everyone’s mood.
“Well, then, we’ll have to remedy that. Maybe I can take Saturday or Sunday off if there’s nothing new with the case, and we can go out on a charter. That is if you want to.”
“I’d love it. But you’re going to have to teach me all over again. If memory serves me right, last time, I kept getting my line all tangled. Your poor uncle spent most of the day getting out the knots for me.”
Sean chuckled. “No worries. After a few pointers, I’ll have you tangle-free.”
The rest of the evening went smoothly, and the conversation remained clear of the serial killer terrorizing the area. As he drove Grace back to her place, he wondered if she would invite him in. He wanted her in the worst way, but aside from the few steamy kisses they’d shared, he wasn’t sure if she was ready for more than that. They’d gotten to know each other over the past week as adults, and he felt closer to her than any other woman he’d dated before, after only days of reconnecting. Maybe because of their history, but that had been so long ago, they’d almost started from scratch again.
Pulling into a space in front of her unit, he turned off the engine. Whether she was inviting him in or not, he was still walking her to the door. They both climbed out of the car and met on the walkway in front of her place. Holding Grace’s hand in his, he strolled toward her condo, his thumb caressing her soft skin.
As they approached her door, she took her keys from her purse. “Would you… um… Would you like to come in?”
He stopped and turned to face her. A heavy blush stained her cheeks, and he reached up to stroke her jawline with his fingers. “I would very much like to come in, but I’m not sure I could resist trying to get you into bed. I don’t want to rush you, so it’s probably best if I go home and take a cold shower.”
“Or,” her voice had become huskier, “we could take a hot shower together here instead.”
Gazing into her eyes, he searched for any uncertainty, but all he saw there was shyness and desire, the combination undoing him. He cupped her chin and gave her a brief kiss before taking her keys from her hand. Unlocking the door, he swung it open and then closed it again after trailing her inside.
She flipped on the two lamps in her living room and tossed her purse onto the side table. Before she could step away, Sean caught her around the waist and drew her back against him.
A soft laugh escaped her as she tipped her head, giving him better access to the curve of her neck. His mouth brushed over her skin, sending a shiver through her. The faint floral scent of her perfume wrapped around him, and the simple closeness of her threatened what little remained of his self-control.
A meow interrupted them.
Sean lifted his head to find Rico perched on the back of the couch, watching with clear disapproval.
He pointed a finger at the cat. “Sorry, buddy, but your first night here will not be in your mom’s bed. I plan on spending the entire night getting to know her a whole lot better. Now, if you’ll excuse us…”
Grace laughed and took his hand, leading him toward the bedroom. The sound followed him all the way down the hall. He shut the bedroom door behind them, locking the cat out, before turning back to her.
When her hands reached for the zipper at the back of her dress, he caught them gently. “Uh-uh. Let me.”
She lowered her arms and watched him over her shoulder as he eased the zipper down. The dress slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet, leaving him momentarily speechless.
She was stunning.
The rest of the world seemed to fade as he drew her into his arms again. His hands traced familiar curves he’d spent hours imagining, while her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt. Their kisses deepened, slow and searching at first, then hungry with all the anticipation they’d been carrying since that first stolen kiss.
The room seemed to shrink around them. There was only Grace. The soft catch of her breath. The way her hands moved over him with growing confidence. The quiet sounds she made when he whispered her name against her skin.
Somewhere between one kiss and the next, everything beyond the soft glow of the bedside lamp ceased to matter as they gave themselves over to the pull neither of them had been able to deny.
Much later, Sean lay on his back with Grace curled against his side, her head resting on his shoulder while his fingers drifted through her loosened hair.
Moonlight slipped through the curtains, washing the room in a soft silver glow. The only sound was the gradual slowing of their breaths. His body felt heavy in the best possible way, every muscle loose and pleasantly spent, as Grace traced lazy circles across his chest.
“Well,” she murmured, her voice thick with contentment, “you won’t hear me complaining. Consider yourself invited to stay for the rest of the night, as long as we can do that again at some point.”
A low laugh rumbled through him. Lifting his head, he looked down at her and smiled. “Oh, we will. Scouts honor.”
She tipped her chin up, amusement flickering in her eyes. “You were a Boy Scout?”
“Nope.” His grin widened. “But it sounded better than a pinkie swear.”
Turning off the ignition of her BMW convertible, Jessica Daly stared through the windshield at the abandoned tobacco factory on the outskirts of Elizabeth City. Even under the glow of the moon, the place looked grim. The sprawling structure loomed against the night sky, its broken windows like dark, hollow eyes. It had been shuttered for nearly three decades after larger cigarette companies had swallowed the market, leaving the once-bustling property to rot. No one had wanted to touch the three hundred acres or pay the staggering cost of demolishing the million-square-foot shell.
Her pulse beat faster. The place's isolation should have made her uneasy. Instead, it sharpened her anticipation. Big stories rarely came wrapped in comfort.
