Page 40 of Just Beachy

“But I haven’t finished this one yet.”

“I know. But the only way I’ll get a drink from A.J. that includes alcohol is if he thinks it’s for you.”

I sip the old-fashioned that Luke ordered whenever A.J. isn’t looking, and I’m careful not to groan with pleasure. God, I’ve missed alcohol.

Then I watch the white-haired patrons hit on Grand and Myra, break up a fight, eject a troublemaker, and fend off at least ten autograph seekers.

When Grand and Myra decide to head back to Casas de Flores around 10:00 p.m., Luke tells them not to worry. “I’ll be here until her shift’s done. And I can bring her home,” he says without asking.

“But don’t wait up,” I interject. “And don’t be worried if I’m not back until tomorrow,” I say, borrowing Grand’s words when she’d informed me that she intended to spend the night with Brian.

My cheeks heat up when I realize I’ve just invitedmyself to spend the night at Luke’s. Happily, neither Grand nor Myra seems shocked, and Luke appears to be good with the idea. When A.J. starts closing out tabs and showing the last of his customers out, Luke takes my hand and leads me outside.

“My place or Grand’s?” he asks, giving me one last chance to change my mind.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing your place,” I concede as he holds open his car door for me. I don’t add exactly how eager I am to see his bedroom and spend the night with him again. Given that I invited myself over, I’m guessing this goes without saying.

Luke’s place turns out to be a very cool beach cottage near the tip of Sunset Beach, which sits between St. Pete Beach and Treasure Island and is maybe a mile and a half from Casas de Flores, which goes a long way to explaining how quickly he’s been able to get to Grand’s.

It’s far tidier than most men’s places I’ve set foot in and even has healthy plants in pots. (When I first met Jason, my ex, he had pots of dirt with sticks in them, which was all that was left of the living plants he’d started with. Yet one more sign of irresponsibility that I should have paid attention to.)

We’re both impatient and help each other undress in the moonlight, dropping our clothes as we move through the living room and into his bedroom. When he lays me on my back in the center of his bed, I tremble with anticipation.

Then he climbs onto the bed and kneels above me, histhighs bracketing my hips. He teases my nipples with his tongue until I’m wild with wanting him. I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer until his body covers mine. He moves against me, gently at first, then with more intent. When he slips his penis inside me, it fills me to the core.

And then he’s moving, slowly at first, as the moonlight pours in the open window and dances on his bare skin. My legs encircle his hips. My ankles clasp together, and I hold on tight as he enters and retreats over and over again like the pull and push of the tide as it washes on and off the shore.

The slight swish and sway of palm fronds moving in the breeze outside mimics our rhythm as our breathing grows more labored and his tongue tangles with mine. Then we’re moving faster, the friction building with each deep thrust and retreat until I can’t hold on any longer.

With a cry I shoot over the edge, orgasming in waves that shake my entire body as he spasms inside me.

• • •

The next morning,I wake to the caw of gulls. Luke is sound asleep beside me, so I ease quietly out of bed, pull on one of the clean T-shirts folded in his laundry basket, and go out into the living room, pulling his bedroom door closed behind me.

I use his Keurig to make myself a cup of coffee then settle in a club chair that overlooks the water. The view is incredible, but once the caffeine kicks in, I do what I probably should have done when Grand first started seeingBrian. I take another long sip of coffee then google “Brian Boyer and Phillip Drake NYC.”

I’m staring out the window and mulling what I’ve discovered when Luke comes out of the bedroom and makes himself a cup of coffee.

“The view is even more magnificent than I realized last night,” I say after taking in the long length of white sand that kisses up to the Gulf.

“Yeah.” He comes to sit in the chair beside me. Both of our gazes remain on the view.

“This is why people take pay cuts to live and work down here.”

We sip our coffee contentedly. The conversation is easy. My body is loose and pleasantly worn out. That’s what orgasms can do for a girl. In this moment all is right with the world.

“Well, if the whole law enforcement thing doesn’t work out, you can totally become a barista.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” His tone is teasing.

“So I’ve been wondering,” I say quietly after another long, lovely sip of coffee. “What made you suspicious of Brian Boyer so quickly?”

“This is what you’ve been wondering after two, or was it three, orgasms?”

I hold up three fingers and smile. “Last night was truly lovely and this conversation doesn’t change that. But I need to know if you think he’s actually dangerous to Grand or not.”

“I don’t have proof of wrongdoing,” he admits. “But theway the break-ins began so soon after she met him and started seeing him seemed too much of a coincidence.”

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