Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(19)

I nodded, and he left me by the shore. I watched as he jogged toward his house, his well-formed, diamond-shaped calf muscles flexed tightly as he moved. When he disappeared into the house, I sat in the soft sand. The calm waves lapped over my feet, splashing up to my ankles, temporarily extinguishing the dots of fire radiating and pulsing under my skin. When he was back by my side, he brought a couple of fresh beers, a towel, and the medicine.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the cold bottle of beer from his hand.

He watched me as I dried my skin and rubbed the cream onto my ankles. It made the stinging instantly more manageable. After I’d covered every bite, I sipped my beer.

“I’m Stephen Tate,” he said, extending his hand.

I swallowed. “Diana Cain, but people call me Di.” I took his hand and smiled at the late dose of formality. “Thanks for the beer and for the rescue.”

“My pleasure.” He held my stare for a beat then tilted his head, squinting. “So, what brings you here? Vacation?” He took a swig of his beer and licked the leftover froth clinging to his lips.

“Yeah,” I said with a sullen laugh. “Call it a mini escape.”

He took his beer and pushed it deep into the sand then laced his fingers together below his knees. He looked out to the water and nodded his head. “Escape,” he said, matching tone my tone. “Yeah, me too.”

We sat watching the sunset, sipping our beers, saying everything and nothing in our silence. He didn’t ask me about my home, my job, or if I had someone waiting for me when I returned. And for that, I was grateful. I wanted to keep anymore gut wrenching memories lingering in the corners of my mind safely tucked away.

The only sounds were the barely audible tapping of the webbed feet of resident egrets pecking at the shoreline nearby and my pounding heart. As darkness fell, occasionally one of us would break the silence, muttering a quick observation about the night which was followed by more long, glorious periods of silence. Perhaps I should have felt uncomfortable sitting next this man I hardly knew, but I didn’t.

When the sun kissed the water goodnight, a mild breeze blew and a loose strand of my towel-dried hair whipped against my cheek. He reached over to tuck it behind my ear. The tenderness of the gesture from someone other than Gabe should have struck me as forbidden, but I embraced it. I turned to face him, and he touched me more deeply with his eyes than his hands ever could. It sent a shiver through me, and I allowed this man I barely knew to kiss me.

His lips were salty pillows, and his breath tasted like Corona and lime. He cupped my face and slipped his fingers back into my hair and pulled me to him. I scooted closer, inhaling the smell of sunscreen on his skin. Then, without consciously making the decision, I found myself lying back on the cool sand, and my soft curves molded to the contours of his body. I was caged by his muscular arms and secured safely beneath him. There were moments where the pressure of his body reminded me of my broken ribs, but his lips became my medicine, numbing the pain. We were a mess of tangled limbs and moist lips, exploring every inch of each other.

Guilt and hints of remorse tried to creep in while his hands traced my arms and legs, feeling me and touching me like no other man had in two years, but I pushed the emotions into the sand with the weight of his body on mine. I needed this and it wasn’t cheating on Gabe. I could only assume he’d officially broken up with me, not there was much doubt, his silence shouted it. But, I’d hoped. The only thing hope had done was dangle its possibility only to leave me empty, and Stephen filled my void.

His hands roamed my body, and I ran my fingers up his back slightly beaded with sweat. Hovering over me, he smiled down with adoration, brushing my lips with the heat of his breath. I ached for him to bury my pain and my memories. When he took my mouth again, he did so with more force and carried our everlasting kiss into the night. And in those moments, I forgot.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and it was late. Somehow, we separated. I’d never come close to having a one night stand, but if I was ever going to, it would have been that night. Thankfully, he showed the reservation and restraint worthy of any gentleman. He helped me up and walked me back to the same wooden bridge where our paths first crossed.

He whispered good night. Then, he was gone.



. . .



I started my morning off with my daily dose of exercise and I ran on a cloud. I looked for Stephen, but he never appeared on the beach that morning or the rest of the day.

I wasted my afternoon away with my nose buried in a book. When I wasn’t reading, I stared out at the water and checked my phone periodically for anything from Gabe, but nothing ever came through.

I couldn’t help but think of Stephen. When I was toweling off, the cotton was his finger’s caress, the nylon of my chair was him cradling my bottom, and his scent blew in the wind.

I floated in from the beach to clean up after I’d had enough sun. First, I popped a couple of Dove dark chocolates in my mouth then opened the cupboards and the fridge in search of real food. It was readily apparent that when I’d gone to the grocery store, I’d focused on getting only the necessities: wine, my favorite Triscuits, wine, chocolate, other random junk food, and more wine. As far as real food options went, there weren’t any. I grabbed the rest of my bag of Cheetos, poured a glass of pinot grigio, and headed toward the shower.

With dewy fresh skin, I rubbed coconut lime lotion onto my legs and noticed a few tiny red welts had developed on my ankles from the ant bites, which both itched and burned. I heeded Stephen’s warnings about touching them, not wanting to make them worse. I hated having an itch I couldn’t scratch.