Page 36 of Tide and Seek
“I’ll never regret being with you.You’re it for me.”
My chest squeezed at his heartfelt words.“Well… I feel the same.I mean, obviously I like things, but I don’tneedthings.I just need you, Royce.”I shrugged.“To be honest, I can’t stay away.I’ve been drawn to you from the beginning.”
He relaxed a little.“Is that right?”
“You must know that’s true.If I could have kept my distance, don’t you think I would have?”I laughed gruffly.“If not for you, I’d have ditched Rainy Dale a few weeks in.Scratch that, a few days in.”
His smile was sympathetic.“That’s probably true.You were a fish out of water if ever I’d seen one.”
“There’s no probably about it.”I sighed.“Have you ever heard of quantum entanglement?”
“I believe so.”He nodded.“That’s where two particles connect or something?”
“Yes,” I said softly.“That’s it exactly.And no matter how far apart those particles are, they still move in sync.They belong together.That’s how I feel about us.We’re connected.We found each other because we belong together.”
Royce’s eyes gentled.“You can be a real romantic when you want to be, Max.”
I sighed and said softly, “Yet another thing I didn’t know about myself until I met you.”
Chapter Eight
Royce
Getting hold of Deputy Gonzalez to see if he’d let us see the security footage was easier said than done.He was no doubt busy with the murder on the beach and countless other crimes, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.
Since Max and I had decided to stay home tonight, I offered to grill some salmon.I made that offer before I saw the grill.Seeing it up close, it looked more like a spaceship than a BBQ.I should have known it would be fancy when Max had mentioned the word “infrared” in the name.Back home, my barbecue was a rusted barrel with a propane tank that hissed like a pissed-off rattler.This thing?It was sleek, stainless steel, and intimidating as hell.
I’d never seen a grill with a damn touchscreen.It was chrome with glowing buttons and knobs that didn’t click the way they were supposed to.My grill back in Rainy Dale had two settings: hot and hotter.You turned the knob, heard the gas hiss, and hit the igniter button.
Simple.
This contraption was a whole other situation.I squinted at the little digital panel.It wanted me to select a “mode.”What the hell did that mean?Was I supposed to bake the salmon?Roast it?There didn’t appear to be a grill mode, which only confused me more.One of the buttons said sear zone, and I figured that sounded aggressive enough for what I was trying to do.
I tapped it.Nothing happened.
There was a moment where I considered calling Max, but pride’s a powerful thing.James probably knew how to use this grill like a pro, and I was damned if I was going to fail at this.I opened the lid and poked around underneath.Rebuilding an engine probably would have been simpler than turning this thing on.There was no igniter button in sight, just this smooth steel surface and what looked like a USB port, which I hoped wasn’t necessary for cooking.Was I actually supposed to hook up a computer to this thing, just so we could cook a few pieces of fish?That couldn’t be right.
After a solid minute of pressing every button like I was trying to reboot the space shuttle, the burners finally kicked on with a low, even whoosh.I didn’t even know what I’d done right.The screen flashed “Preheat in progress,” which seemed excessive, but I was too relieved to care.Heat shimmered across the grates, and I could smell the faint scent of metal warming.
Max was inside making a salad, which I was grateful for.I didn’t want to look foolish in front of him.After all, I’d volunteered to do the grilling and I was damn well going to grill something.I waited a few minutes, shifting uneasily, but it seemed like things were now working smoothly.Once the grill was hot, I brushed a little oil on the grates—something I did know how to do—and laid out the salmon fillets.The fish sizzled on contact, and I stepped back, satisfied.Maybe I had a handle on this after all.
The breeze carried the scent of saltwater and smoke.The ocean rolled out in front of me like a painting come to life, and I let myself breathe for the first time since I’d stepped onto the patio.The point of this trip was relaxation, but so far, that had eluded me.
I was flipping the salmon, trying to look like I knew what I was doing, when the sliding glass door whispered open behind me.Max stepped out barefoot, a wine glass in each hand, the hem of his linen shirt catching the breeze.He looked like he belonged here, relaxed, sophisticated.The golden light kissed his skin, polishing out any rough edges.
He handed me one of the glasses without a word, but he had a little smile at the corner of his mouth.He looked content, and that wasn’t something I saw on his face too often.I took the white wine, leaning in for a kiss, needing to feel his full lips against mine.He responded and there was obvious hunger there.Despite how different we were, this sophisticated, gorgeous, accomplished man truly seemed to love me.
When the kiss ended, I pulled back and took a sip of the cool, citrusy white wine.It was delicious, but dry enough to make my mouth tighten for a second before the flavor settled.Max had told me the name of it earlier, some French label I couldn’t pronounce.It probably cost a fortune, but that wouldn’t bother Max.
“Smells good,” he said, nodding toward the grill.“I see you figured out how to work that monstrosity.”
“Took me a minute,” I confessed.
He smiled and leaned against the patio railing, one ankle crossed over the other.“That grill is ridiculously complicated.It’s a nice grill and all, but I think it’s overkill.How many buttons does a grill really need?The one we have back home is more practical.You don’t need an engineering degree to turn it on.”
I laughed, pleased to hear he also thought the grill was ostentatious.I also noticed, and liked, that he’d referred to Rainy Dale as home.That meant a lot to me.“Why’d you buy it if you didn’t want anything this fancy?”
He grimaced.“It was a gift from James.He said every deck needs a grill.”
