Page 9 of Who I Really Am

“Getting my phone. Looking for a hotel.” I assume finding one won’t be too difficult since it’s not summer break anymore. Aren’t I one lucky guy?

“Then what?”

Not sure what it matters to her. “I’ll stay the night. Probably head home tomorrow.”

I don’t want to do that. I’m almost thirty, but this is my first real visit to the beach. Once, when I was on assignment in the California desert, I broke free just long enough for a quick drive to the coast. I remember being in awe. It was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on the ocean. Didn’t get to put so much as my toes in the sand that trip. Although it’s a little messy afterwards, I have enjoyed the water these last two days.

“There are tons of places along the beach. You don’t have to cut your trip short.”

Spoken like a true rich girl. “Sure I do.” I lower the tailgate, slide onto it, and pull up the search engine. Even one night was not something I budgeted for, not with the rates I expect to find in a beach community. My last paycheck was a week ago. I should have another one coming, but it well may be my last. Technically I’m on administrative leave, which keeps me on payroll, but I’m teetering on the edge of dismissal. The future is unclear, to say the least. I have a 401k, but those funds aren’t readily accessible, leaving me cash poor with one nearly maxed-out credit card to my name. Attorneys are expensive.

I’ve had just enough time to choke on the first prices I see when I hear, “Wait.” Lise has edged along the side of the pickup, but not so close I can reach out.

Probably a good thing. She looks amazing, and sometimes I’m more of a louse than I care to admit.

“You can stay.”

I feel my eyebrows perk. “I knew you’d change your mind.”

She growls low. My jokes are flatlining all of a sudden, unlike during our time at Jake’s. Understandable, but humor is sort of a default setting for me.

“Totally kidding, Lise.” I don’t mean it at all, hottie though she is in her sexy little top, sea breeze lifting her curls. I was not joking when I told her I value my life. I also value my friendship with her brother. He’s only a handful of years older, but he’s served as somewhat of a mentor to me over the years—workwise, at least. I’m starting to think I should have taken notes from him on the personal side of things, as well, and adopted some of his more refined sensibilities. It’s just…my way is usually so much more fun.

She gives her head an exasperated shake, and the move is as cute and hot as everything else about her. “You can stay in the cabana. There’s a guest suite there. I don’t know if you’ve looked?”

Yes, I’ve looked. I’ve also showered off there each day as Tripp instructed I should following time on the beach. Otherwise, I’ve mostly restrained myself from becoming too much of a snoop, but this place is so awesome, it’s been difficult. Since I’m in law enforcement, investigation is in my blood.

Uh, yeah. We’ll go with that.

I close my search app and tuck the phone away. I’m taking her up on the offer for tonight. For all I know, that’s all she means anyway. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

I truly can’t go home. When I left there, the place was crawling with media types and protestors of one sort or another. Things may have died down, but I doubt it. At some point, I’ll get brave enough to check the news again.

“Now, may I have my gun back, please?” She sounds a tad irritated.

“Yes, ma’am.” I reach for it, then stop. “You promise not to shoot me?”

“Don’t give me reason and I won’t.”

Smart girl—but she can’t know the irony of the moment given the situation back in Dallas.

We lock up the truck and I follow her through a side door into the house, flipping on lights as we go. I head upstairs to gather my things. Tripp told me to stay in his old room, as opposed to one of the official guest bedrooms, said his digs had the best view in the place. He was right. I’m going to miss the morning vista I’ve enjoyed the past two days. I’m going to miss the pillowy mattress most of all.

When I return downstairs, giant duffel swung over my shoulder, I follow sounds that take me into the kitchen and run into Annalise exiting the laundry room, a crisp stack of perfectly folded sheets in her arms. During my absence, she’s thrown on a worn sweatshirt sporting a trio of Greek letters. I silently applaud her good sense on this point.

She moves toward the door we came in a few minutes earlier. It leads to a covered walkway that goes to the garage in one direction, the cabana the other. She mumbles something about a bed needing sheets. Several paces behind, I’m captivated by her flowing hair, her shape.

I catch up to her at the door, tap her shoulder, then lift the sheets from her arms. “I can make my own bed.”

And then I’ll lie in it, very much alone.

∞∞∞

Luck is not my friend.

Ten days ago, a college kid mistakenly stumbles into my apartment late one night. I, like anyone else would, defend my castle, but in my case, all hell proceeds to break loose. Then, during a trip that’s supposed to help me pull things back together, I initiate a one-night stand with my partner’s sister. His little sister. Could things possibly get any worse?

I’m afraid to find out.