Page 3 of Jaxon

"That's Stella, my twin sister."

"Cousins, a brother and a twin sister, lucky you." She walked over to the side of the cave and ran her hand along the smooth shale. "I'm an only child, and my mom took off when I was nine. She found someone less odious than my dad, only her new guy wasn't interested in being a dad. She chose him."

A mechanical sound reverberated off the surrounding cliffs. "That sounds like an anchor being lowered," I said.

"You know boats."

"My Uncle Slade has a fishing boat, and yeah, when you grow up just a few blocks from a boat marina, you learn the sights and sounds … and smells. Diesel and fish glued to a morning fog—there's nothing like it."

"Thank goodness for that." Her laugh was sweet and sexy, and it was already imprinted on my soul. She sashayed flirtatiously toward me, and my entire body reacted instantly. She placed her hands against my chest and absently traced along one of my tattoos with her fingertip. "I sure am glad you buzzed past our boat on your cute water toy."

It was my turn to laugh. "My cute water toy? Well, if that doesn't cut a man's confidence at the knees."

She giggled, hopped up on her toes and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Something tells me your kiss would melt me into one big hot mess." Her blue eyes glazed with need, and her voice trailed off to a whisper.

I wrapped my arms around her. "There's only one way to test that theory." My own voice was heavy with need, and my cock was already standing at full attention. It throbbed with the notion of being buried deep inside of her. I lowered my mouth to hers. Our lips barely touched when a loud boat horn shattered the moment.

"Just so you know, asshole, I've contacted the Coast Guard to let them know you kidnapped my girlfriend. Why don't you scoot out here on that motorized tin can and talk to me face-to-face?"

Bridget lowered her arms, and we stepped apart. "Guess he's done yelling at you," I said. "Do you think he's bullshittin' about calling the Coast Guard?"

Bridget bit her lip and shook her head. "Probably not."

"Right. Wait here." I turned and climbed the layers of rocks that held the tide pools.

"Jaxon," she called to me urgently.

"Be right back." I reached the top of the jutting rocks. The asshole had anchored as close to shore as he could get without running into rocks. Without the anchor, his high dollar vessel would have eventually been pushed into the jagged shore.

It took him a second to spot me. He walked to the railing and lifted his sunglasses. "You piece of shit. Bring her back now, and I won't press charges."

I stared back at him long and hard. These rich pricks had become more than a thorn in our sides in Trayton. They were like vermin, infiltrating every dark corner and working hard to push us locals out. They'd already swarmed and taken over Oceanview, the town next to us. I'd been sitting in tenth grade detention, watching the second hand on the clock move painstakingly slow, as the first rumble of bulldozers floated through the open window of study hall. Greedy, arrogant money flooded the once rustic, quiet town to build up massive glass front beach houses and expensive hotels. The locals were forced out, and now the rich were making a move on Trayton. A wealthy developer had found a loophole—a questionable one at that—and purchased an entire stretch of beach between Trayton and Oceanview. Croft Beach was named after Melvin Croft, a fisherman from the early twentieth century who'd survived two shipwrecks and lived to tell his tales. The town named the beach after him, and it was a place we all loved.

"Why don't you take off your five-hundred dollar loafers and swim out here so we can have a chat," I called back. "Bridget wants to stay with me."

His face reddened even more than the already nasty sunburn he was wearing. "Listen here, you piece of trash, you bring her back here or face jail time. I'm happy to see you marched off in handcuffs."

This asshole was standing on my last nerve, and I wanted nothing more than to ride out there, climb aboard and destroy his manufactured pearly whites. "How about I come out there, and we can settle this once and for all? But Bridget stays here."

I could see his knuckles whiten as he grabbed the railing. He leaned forward. "You're going to jail, punk! Or maybe I'll just take care of you on my own." His hand flew up, and a gunshot broke the air.

"Fuck!" I dropped to the rocks. A stinging sensation pulsed through my arm and warm blood dripped down it. I scurried off the rocks like a three-legged crab and dropped down to the sand.

Bridget raced toward me. She was unbelievably hot, but I wasn't entirely sure she was worth all this trouble.

"You're all right." She grabbed my face and kissed me hard on the mouth. Yeah, she was probably worth a gunshot or two.

"You are adorable when you look worried." I winced.

"Oh shit, he got you." She noticed the river of blood on my arm.

"Just grazed me. Looks way worse than it is."

"I'm so sorry." She kissed me again. "I tried to let you know but you took off. Alex has a gun."

I nodded. "Yep. Figured that out." I wrapped my good arm around her and pulled her against me. "Now, I think I'm in need of a little more first aid." I lowered my mouth to hers for a proper kiss, and every inch of me was on fire in seconds. She melted against me and moaned softly against my mouth.

"Hmm, theory proven right," she said breathlessly.

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