Page 10 of Mine to Hold
“I’ve got a hot date with a rental app. The place I’m staying at now needs me out in three days.”
“That’s not enough time to find a place.”
“It’s an Airbnb and even if they could extend it, I don’t want to, so I’m hoping this little town with the tagline,Everyone needs a safe harbor to sail into, will find me something else quickly.”
He waved his hand. “Let’s go take a walk on the beach.”
She cocked her head.
He chuckled. “I’m a cop, not a serial killer.”
“The last book I read, the FBI agent was the bad guy and a super creeper. Like gave me nightmares creepy, so it happens.”
“That’s true, but it’s a beautiful night. The ocean is calm. There’s a light breeze, and my mother might have put the bug in my ear that I should show you her private beach.” He raised his elbow. “It will also give me the chance to tell you about a great little pool house for rent that is available now.”
“Sounds too good to be true.”
“It is.” He guided her across the pool deck and down a long windy path until her feet finally hit the warm white sand.
The salty air hit her nostrils.
God, she loved that smell. It had been fifteen years since she’d seen the ocean. Of course, the Pacific and the Atlantic were different. California and Florida were two very different states.
But no matter where in the world, when the water hit the sand, it was magical.
“What’s wrong with the place?” she asked.
“For starters, it’s tiny. One room that houses the kitchen, family room, and bedroom. What’s nice about the space is the bed is Murphy style and it pulls out from the wall above a small desk, so it doesn’t intrude on the living space. It’s got a decent-size bathroom, but only has a shower. No tub.”
“I’m not much of a soaker, so that wouldn’t matter.”
“What’s to love is that you’d have access to the pool and it’s on the Intracoastal Waterway.” He nudged her toward a set of beach chairs. “The view is spectacular.”
She eased into one, stretching out her legs, and took a long slow draw of her beer. “Right now, it sounds perfect. How do you know about this place?”
“I’m the owner.”
“Now you really sound like a creepy stalker serial killer.”
“You sound like someone who reads or watches too many mysteries, but I can assure, I’m none of those things. I just finished renovating the space and was considering listing it for rent. So, the only thing I’m guilty of is impeccable timing.”
“Considering?”
“I’m a cop and the son of the chief of police. I can’t have just anyone living in my backyard. I’m not sure I would have gone through a regular listing to find a tenant.” He sipped his beverage, his gaze locked with hers intently.
It was unnerving how at ease she felt. How comfortable he made her feel in his presence. That should alarm her. In the last fifteen years, she had few relationships with men. In part because she never stayed in one place long enough to have any lasting commitments.
But mostly she didn’t trust anyone.
Men or women.
And that included cops.
The system hadn’t been kind to her as a kid.
Not to mention if anyone had ever found out what she had done, well, that would land her in cuffs.
This was a bad idea.
