Crystal Cove (Friday Harbor #4)(80)

Giggling at the shenanigans, Justine glanced up at Jason. “This is fun.”

“It’s insane.”

“Yes. I feel almost normal by contrast.”

Jason put his arms around her, holding her protectively in the jostling crowd. It felt as if they were a still, small island in a turbulent sea. “You know,” he told her, “there are better things to aspire to than being normal.”

“Like what?”

Bending his head, he murmured near her ear. “Being exactly who you are.”

“That’s too easy.”

He laughed quietly and amended, “Being exactly who you are and loving it.”

“That’s too hard.” She reached up and curved her hand against the lean side of his face, the hard edge of his jaw. A wave of tenderness came over her, and in that moment all she wanted was to be alone with him. “Hey,” she said softly, “what do you say we skip the beauty pageant and go back to the Del?”

“Are you sure? The ballroom is right over there.”

“I’m sure. My feet are starting to hurt. And it’s too noisy down here. Besides … if you’ve seen one Klingon interpretive dance, you’ve seen them all.”

* * *

Justine awakened the next morning suffused with the kind of contentment that could only have come from two days of great food, sex, and sleep.

Unfortunately Jason didn’t share her mood. He was preoccupied, brooding over something he apparently had no intention of discussing.

Last night in bed, she had been aware of him lying awake beside her, even though he’d been completely still.

“Would a nightcap help?” she had asked in the darkness. “I’m sure there’s some vodka in the minibar.”

“No, I’m okay.”

“If you want to read or watch TV—whatever you usually do on sleepless nights—that’s fine with me.”

Jason had refused.

After a couple of minutes of taut silence, Justine had said, “I can feel you worrying. Can you just give me a hint? If there’s anything I’ve said or done—”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” He had turned to his side to face her, his hand settling on the curve of her hip. “A work-related issue. Too technical to explain. I can handle it.”

She moved closer to him, rising to her knees. “Do you need a distraction?”

“Maybe.” His breath quickened as he felt the cool streamers of her hair trail over his skin. “Got any ideas?”

“Just one.” She pressed him to his back and moved over him, prowling along his body. He lay beneath her, going taut in every muscle. Her mouth touched him here and there, as if she were adorning him with kisses. His hands went to her hair, playing gently.

She mounted him and lowered herself carefully, moaning at the delicious full invasion, riding slowly. He matched her rhythm until they were moving in fluid undulations like some protean creature, a tide of sensation buoying them upward in fresh swells. It was all that mattered, this pouring of heat into heat, love into love.

* * *

“Despite my best efforts,” Justine said the next morning as they drank coffee in the kitchen, “you’re still preoccupied.”

Jason was scowling down at his cell phone, his fingers tapping swiftly at the touchscreen. “My phone keeps automatically switching time zones and dates. I’ve tried to reset it manually, but the fix only lasts a few seconds. I’m about to put it in the microwave and kill it.”

Justine reached for her handbag on the counter and pulled out her phone. Glancing at the touchscreen, she said in bemusement, “According to my phone, we’re in Beijing and it’s eight o’clock at night. What’s going on? The bedroom clock and now this. I wonder if—”

“Coincidence,” Jason said brusquely. “The bedroom clock went out because of a power outage.”

“What about the cell phones?”

“They probably received rolling software updates that screwed with data connectivity.” Jason slid his phone back into his pocket. “Is your bag packed? We have to leave in a couple of minutes.”

“You want to get rid of me?” Justine asked lightly, dropping her phone into her handbag.

“No, I want you to arrive at the airport with plenty of time to make it through security.”

A bellman arrived to take their bags to the rental car in front of the hotel. While he and Jason went through the obligatory how-was-your-stay conversation, Justine looked through the cottage to make certain she hadn’t left anything behind. She picked up the briefcase that contained the Triodecad and followed Jason outside.

“Do you think we’ll ever come back?” she asked wistfully, taking a last look at Coronado Beach.

“If you want to.” Jason took the briefcase from her and held her hand as they walked back to the hotel. “But I thought you didn’t like to travel.”

“I can be flexible. If you’re willing to visit the island, I’ll reciprocate by going to San Francisco or any other place you want. Both people need to make some effort in a long-distance relationship.” She paused. “That’s what this is, right?… A real relationship?”

“What else would it be?”

“Well, it could be one of those fuzzy relationships that looks and feels like a real one, except you’re never sure if you can keep a toothbrush at his place. And you never say the word ‘relationship,’ you only refer to it as ‘this thing that we’re doing.’ And you can’t talk about being exclusive, even if you secretly want to.”