Authors: Christi Barth
“I’m not too worried about a shark trying to crawl up onto the sand.” Darcy slowed her steps across the weathered boards of the dune crossing. “Unless you’re suggesting that we go skinny dipping. Then, I admit, I’d be a bit freaked out.”
Well, he hadn’t planned on suggesting it. But now it was all he could think about. Darcy, naked and slip-sliding against him with every swell of the tide. Wrapping her legs around his waist while he kept them afloat. Chilly water hardening her nipples before he wrapped his lips around them. Her neck tilted back, hair like a mermaid’s in the water as he nipped at her throat. Christ, had she tortured him with this vision on purpose? She couldn’t possibly be that much of a tease, could she? Coop had to push a little more to see.
“What if I promised to float between you and any potential ocean predators?”
An emphatic whip of her hair against his arms answered the question. “Nope. Still too scary. I don’t want you to be the appetizer course for Jaws any more than I want to be the entrée.”
Coop urged her forward onto the cool, packed sand. Oh well. Guess he’d come out here after she left and try to wash away any unslaked lust in the cold water all by himself. “Just a walk it is, then.”
“The beach at night reminds me of Africa. Dark, isolated, quiet. Except for the steady thrum of the waves.” Her cell phone twittered a multi-tonal notification. She laughed. “Maybe you should write me up a citation for noise pollution. Sorry about this.” Darcy palmed her phone, read the text, and slipped it back into the pocket of the hoodie he’d loaned her.
He’d wised up and left his phone on his dresser. “Juggling another hot date?” Coop laced his fingers through hers. Might as well imprint himself upon her, just in case it was true. Who knew how many times she got propositioned at Fager’s last night? Any man with half a brain and both balls would want Darcy at first sight. And be willing to fight off any other contenders once they actually talked to her.
“Um, no.” She laughed, a little self-consciously, and squeezed his hand. “A hot job offer, actually.”
“A different one? Not the Africa thing?”
“No, it’s Africa. Technically, I still have three days to make up my mind. Except they can’t believe I didn’t accept immediately. I guess they think my continued silence is a negotiating tactic. So at the end of every day, I get a text with a new and improved offer. More pay, another three days of vacation. It’s starting to verge on the ridiculous.”
Must be nice to have a job tossed into your lap like an already caught fish. Coop had experienced the other side, straining and fighting and working with every inch of his body and mind to hook the Secret Service job. And it would forever be the big one that got away. “Are you working them over? Or have you really not made up your mind?”
“I wish I could take credit for being that savvy. Well, my parents call it savvy. I call it greedy.” Darcy halted them right at the dark mark of the high tide line. She stared out at the crashing surf, all gray and frothy. “But the truth is that I don’t know what to do. The job I’ve been offered is great. Really great. Anyone just out of a doctoral program would kill for it.”
“Except you.”
“Except me,” she echoed. “My parents will kill me if I don’t take it. Or at least disown me. On top of paying well, the job is prestigious. This could be the cornerstone of my entire career. Obviously, that would reflect well on them. They want to be able to drop my name and have it impress funders the next time they apply for grants for fieldwork.”
Yup, he stuck with his original take of her parents being first-class douchebags. The fact she hadn’t already fallen in line just to make them look good probably meant Darcy knew it, too. “Or?”
She shrugged, shook her head. All that beautiful dark hair flowed like water across her back. “Or nothing. I don’t have an ‘or’ lined up. Jobs like this one don’t fall out of trees. If I turn it down, it could be one year, or three, or even five of me twiddling my thumbs back in Baltimore before I’m offered something else this big.”
“Sounds like a slam dunk. What’s the catch?”
“So simple. So stupid.” Darcy angled to face him. “I just don’t want to do it. I don’t want to live in Africa anymore. I don’t want to study a tribe that is almost completely cut off from current civilization. I don’t want to just sit back and take notes. I want all this education to stand for something, to enable me to work with people, not just watch them. To make a difference, not just make a name for myself.”
Bad enough that his dick leapt to attention every time he saw her. And that she made him laugh, and challenged him. Now his respect soared sky high. The woman wanted to make a difference. How many people actually stood up and tried to make life better, instead of just bitching about it?
Coop’s heart did an Olympics-worthy somersault. Or three. He’d fallen harder and faster than an asteroid falling to Earth. But now he had to be careful not to flame out. Making sure Darcy fell under his spell just as much would take all his focus. So they’d finish hashing out her job problem. And then they’d progress to the real reason behind every moonlit walk on the beach—lots and lots of kissing.
“Valid arguments, all of them. Forget Africa,” he urged. His advice couldn’t be because he selfishly wanted more time with her, could it? Nah. Her whole face scrunched up when she talked about the dark continent. Melancholy husked up her voice. Coop was certain that anybody listening would counsel her to pass on this offer.
“A more valid argument favors taking the job—my dwindling bank balance. Graduate teaching assistants are paid less than a pittance. Earning three degrees back to back means my student loans are approximately the size of the GNP of Guam.” She ticked off each point on long, slender fingers. “I don’t have any savings. I need a job immediately. So it’s either Africa, or move in with Trina and find a waitress job. Preferably one where I get sensational tips without having to wear a push-up bra and shorts.”
Coop indulged in that vision for a second. He grabbed her hands in one of his and brushed kisses across her knuckles. “I get that you need a job. But you shouldn’t have to settle for a career that makes you unhappy.”
“Ideally, yes. Which means I’ve got two days left to find a loophole. Unfortunately, my brand new doctorate doesn’t guarantee I’ve got the smarts to figure one out.”
“Oh, you’re plenty smart.” He figured this was a great time to segue into what he’d been waiting to say all through dinner. Because this woman absolutely blew him away. “And brave.”
“Very funny,” she scoffed.
“I’m serious.”
Her eyes, made into wide, indigo pools by the darkness, connected with his. “You want to talk brave? You were willing to spend your life being a human shield. Here’s what I’m dying to know. Did you even vote for President Reston?”
“God, no.” In fact, Cooper didn’t know anyone who had. The entire state of Maryland had turned out in record numbers to vote against him. Unfortunately, Maryland was too small to make a difference stacked up against all the big states that supported Reston. “The man’s an idiot. It’s amazing he hasn’t accidentally launched a nuclear missile while reaching for his video game controller.”
Darcy snickered, but quickly sobered. “And yet you are so dedicated to the idea of protecting that hallowed office of the president that you’d be willing to sacrifice your life to save his.
That’s
brave.”
Maybe. Coop didn’t like the magnifying glass being turned back on him. For him, it wasn’t about the accolades. It was about service. Sticking his neck out because somebody had to, and many others wouldn’t. “Some might call it massively stupid. Or being a danger-a-holic. Now what you did? With no training, no knowledge of self-defense, no back-up? Engaging the enemy without a thought to your own safety, to save your friend? Now
that’s
brave.”
“Wow. In hindsight, it sounds pretty stupid. Reckless.” Darcy gave herself a head-to-toe shake, as if sloughing off the memory. “If I’d taken the time to think about it like that, I probably would’ve just run away as fast as I could.”
“No chance.”
“You’re right. I was scared spitless, but I couldn’t leave Trina behind.”
“Loyal and brave. Darcy Trent, you’re an amazing woman.” With hands on her shoulders, he turned her around and headed away from the water’s edge.
“Flattery will get you almost anywhere,” she teased.
“Good to know. How about I take you somewhere, instead?”
“Okay.” But the moment Coop laid her over his shoulder in a fireman’s throw, she began to wiggle. “Don’t you dare drop me in the ocean. It’s too cold.”
“I promise you’re not going to be cold much longer.” Coop climbed the rungs of the high-backed lifeguard chair. Once on top, he sat and easily slid Darcy right into his lap. She leaned her head against his shoulder.
“This is wonderful. I feel like I’m on a throne. Queen of the ocean.”
“Well, Poseidon himself did sort of deliver you to me on that wave yesterday. I get my Greek and Roman goddesses mixed up. What would that make you? Aphrodite? Venus?”
“Ha-ha. I’m no goddess.”
“Guess that PhD doesn’t make you so smart after all. Because you are most definitely a beautiful goddess.” To stop her protest, Coop brushed a kiss across her lips. She melted into his embrace. So soft, so yielding. Darcy opened her mouth on a moan. The invitation didn’t get lost on Coop. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue inside. Tasting, touching, learning more about what she liked with every stroke.
His whole body thrummed with lust, like the insistent bass reverb at a rock concert. Easing her back against his arm, Coop gave himself better access to the lusciousness of her breasts. He grabbed the zipper of her borrowed hoodie between his teeth and slowly pulled it down. Darcy squirmed a little. This time it burrowed her deeper into his lap as she threw her legs over the arms of the oversized chair. Beneath the jacket she wore only her bright red bikini top. All it did was offer her breasts up to him. Her beautiful, creamy mounds drew him closer.
“Don’t tease me,” Darcy whispered. “Taste me.”
Never let it be said he didn’t deliver on such a request. Coop nibbled his way down her neck to her collarbone. There he switched to long, slow licks. Like following a topographic map, he traced the clavicle to her sternum. And from there, he used his tongue like a paint brush. Swirling, licking, nuzzling, tickling. It didn’t take long before Darcy rose up to meet him. Each breath a pant, each arch of her back driving him closer to the edge of the taut fabric.
Instead of nosing it aside, Coop sucked the slightly salty fabric into his mouth. Her nipple immediately peaked from the suction. His left hand reached for her other breast, tracing circles on top of the fabric around her nipple until it also rose. Darcy’s hands ran through his hair. She pulled him closer, which was exactly where he wanted to be. His tongue swept aside the damp fabric and he laved her nipple directly. The soft, slightly puckered skin felt so good between his lips. Coop groaned, and the vibration seemed to inflame Darcy.
Suddenly holding her on his lap turned into a difficult, if not bad, idea. The friction between her oh-so-sweet ass shifting back and forth against his rock-hard cock could drive him right over the edge. It took a bit of maneuvering, but Coop managed to slide out from beneath Darcy. Now she alone sat in the chair, arms braced on each armrest. Coop stepped down two wide rungs. He grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the seat. Now they lined up perfectly. His right hand kept molding her ass while his left did the same to her breast. The rhythm of his squeezes matched the slight bucking of her hips.
She used her hands to pull him close again. Chuckling, Coop teased his way down her stomach. He felt her diaphragm contract with every lick, every twitch he pulled out of her. All the blood pooling between his legs pulsed to the same beat. Darcy clawed his shirt up and over his head. Then she resumed stroking his back, nails digging in slightly as payback for every nip of his teeth against her flesh. Coop reveled in the cool night breeze against his overheated skin. Her response had driven him up so fast, so hard. Darcy seemed to be right there with him. This was the most fun he’d had in, well, a very long time. And Coop didn’t want to rush it, no matter how great the need to drive himself into her.
Christ. They couldn’t do this out in the open in a lifeguard chair. Darcy pushed him to the edge of reason, but Coop vowed to cling by his fingertips. He pulled her bikini top back into place. Resettled the jacket from where it had fallen to her waist back up at her shoulders. “Darcy, you have no idea how hard this is for me to say—”
“Oh, I think I know exactly how hard it is.” With a low, throaty chuckle, she palmed him through his shorts. The sensation almost catapulted him backward. God almighty, the woman knew how and where to touch to melt a man into a lava pool of need.
Twin headlights flicked on. A rumble and the scent of diesel signaled the approach of the late night beach patrol. Oversized rakes dragged behind their wide-tired ATV, combing the beach for morning.
“I guess that’s our cue to take it inside.” Darcy laughed.
Coop groaned. “Inside we’ve got an audience of my cousin and your friend. Do you think we can shake them?”
“No. Trina’s trying to keep a stiff upper lip, but she’s rattled from what happened with Ivan. We’ve probably been gone too long as it is.”
Lifting her down to the sand, Coop kept a tight grip on her waist. He hoped she could see the promise shining in his eyes like starlight. “I’ll find a way tomorrow to get you alone. Trina will feel absolutely safe, while I make you feel enough shivers to quake you straight into orgasm without taking off your panties.”
Darcy twined her fingers tightly through his. Then she nipped a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “I hope that’s a promise, and not idle bragging.”
“Wait and see.”
Chapter Nine
“If we don’t find anything, we’ll feel like idiots,” said Brad. He stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the giant martini glass.
“Which is why we haven’t called in the locals yet.” Coop angled his shoulder to bop his cousin’s. “Look, we both know OCPD is like every other smallish town in the state. They’ve got some good cops—”
“Captain Riggs,” Brad interrupted. “I worked with him on that human trafficking bust about a year ago. Solid guy who runs his squad with a tight fist.”
“—and an average amount of cops counting down the days till they’ve put in twenty years doing nothing more than foot patrols on the boardwalk. As soon as we walk in the precinct door, their hackles will go up.” Coop dropped into a squat to fiddle with his shoelace. Or at least, that’s what anyone watching would think. It gave Brad an excuse to turn in a circle, hands jammed in pockets, and make sure nobody was taking an interest in their slow progress toward the motel. “Why are we butting into their jurisdiction? Don’t we know they can handle their own problems without Staties sticking their noses where they don’t belong, etcetera. If we march in and demand to talk only to the captain?” Coop let that scenario hang in the air, as heavy and potentially rancid as a chili-cheese dog fart.
Brad jerked his chin forward. “We’d probably act the same way.”
“Of course we would. Protecting your own. It’s what cops do, whether it’s your precinct house, or your city. So until we’ve got more to go on than hearsay—”
“—and the slice out of Trina’s cheek,” Brad cut in again.
“The fact that Ivan feels comfortable using his hands on a random woman only proves one thing.”
“He’s an animal?”
“Okay, two things,” Coop corrected himself. “Tells me that his dick is smaller than a gummi worm, and just as useless. Makes himself feel like a big man by taking out his aggression on weaker targets. Except he didn’t realize how far from weak those two females are.”
Darcy in particular. He just hoped she’d be able to channel that inner strength into ignoring her parents’ egocentric plans for her. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Why should she try to make them happy with a career choice when they clearly didn’t give a rat’s ass about her own happiness? The selfishness of how they were trying to dictate her life to pad their own resumes boggled his mind. And made him thank his lucky stars for the support his own family gave. Even if it did come padded with generous helpings of fussing and daily status checks.
Brad snorted. “The spine in those women must’ve blindsided him.” He lowered his voice as they started up the motel’s cracked cement steps. “Kind of like we’re going to when we figure out what kind of an operation he’s running.”
“Whoa. As I was trying to say, we’ve got to do some serious footwork to come up with enough of a case to present to the locals. If we can’t lock down hard evidence, we can’t report him.”
“And that’s why you had us sneak off. In case this doesn’t pan out. You didn’t want Ms. Unpredictable along, causing trouble.”
Unpredictable? Calling Trina unpredictable was like calling the inside of a volcano a little sultry. “Her heart is in the right place. I’m just not convinced that her brain always tags along for the ride.”
“She’s fun, though. Kind of nice not knowing what’ll pop out of her mouth next.”
Alarm bells went off for Coop. “How nice? Just how much attention are you paying her mouth?”
“Worried I’ll mess things up with her, and that’ll mess up your chances with Darcy?”
Hell, yeah. At least, that was the first, knee-jerk reason. But since the family’d shipped Brad out here to get over a serious case of woe-is-me-itis, the deeper worry really was for his cousin. “A little. I mean, I’m all for you having a rebound fuck-a-thon to get over that bitch of an ex-fiancée. You’re about a month overdue for it, by my book. I just don’t think Trina’s the right girl for the job.”
“Cool your jets. Trina’s too sweet to make it onto my checklist.”
“What checklist?”
“The one Dad gave me when Dana picked her career over me.”
“Not her career,” Coop corrected. “I remember exactly what she said—
the chance to earn money hand over fist
.”
“Yeah. He said it’d help me get over having my heart yanked out through my scrotum. I’m supposed to go to Atlantic City, gamble a hundred dollars for every thousand I spent on her engagement ring, and go to a strip club. Then when I come back home, find a string of disposable one-night stands and do that for about a month.”
Coop zinged straight to the heart of the matter. “You went to AC without me?”
“Nah. Haven’t crossed anything off it yet. But I know that Trina is anything but disposable. She did manage to remind me that not all women are evil, soul-sucking corporate machines, though. So that’s good.”
Good in many ways. It meant a guaranteed guys’ weekend in AC in the near future. It also proved that Brad no longer whimpered when talking about Dana, which was a huge step forward. Best of all, he and Trina could hang out together while Coop tried like hell to put more serious moves on Darcy. “Play nice. Look, but don’t touch.”
Brad yanked him to a stop with a quick tug on his arm. “We’re not here to just look through the windows, are we? You want us to case the joint.”
“If you keep up the bad Bogart impressions, I’ll do it alone.”
“Detective Hudson, you’re aware we can’t present evidence obtained less than lawfully.”
Although his cousin sounded as serious as an NSA polygraph tech, Coop didn’t doubt for a second that Brad would back him up. “Hey, if the maid doesn’t lock the door, it isn’t breaking and entering. We just accidentally wander into the wrong room. Anything we see is fair game.”
“If you’re willing to go to these lengths, you really must believe Ivan’s up to something.”
“I think he stinks worse than Nelson’s diaper last Thanksgiving.”
“Christ,” Brad muttered with a shake of his head. Coop’s sister had been all excited to give her son oyster stuffing for the first time. Turned out to be the first and last. The kid and oysters turned out to be incompatible. The combination of upchucking all over the table and the toxic gasses coming from his diaper drove them all away from the table. Whole family ended up going out for pizza.
“While you were running that search on Russian suspects at large, I called the hotel for a little info. The maid should be in the middle of doing the third floor right about now. She always starts at the top and works her way down.”
When they rounded the last set of stairs, the housekeeping cart was, indeed, parked in the center of the open hallway. Coop counted down the number of doors and identified Ivan’s. A stack of towels came flying into the hallway two doors further. Using hand signals, he and Brad moved at intervals toward the room. Sure enough, the door hung partway open. Coop put the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob, slipped inside, and closed the door behind them.
“What are we looking for?” Brad asked.
“Let’s start with the worst-case scenario.”
“Like what? A briefcase bomb?”
“In Ocean City? Not when all the politicians escape to St. Michaels. I meant weapons. Look for guns and ammo. I’ll start looking for paperwork.”
It didn’t take but a minute to figure out that this room couldn’t be Ivan’s center of operations. No clothes in the closet, no papers on the desk, nothing in the bathroom. Aside from a stack of take-out menus and a box of rubbers on the nightstand, it looked empty. Too empty to explain Ivan’s worry that Trina had heard or seen something.
“Help me flip the mattress.”
Moving his head side to side, Brad looked like a pitcher shaking off the catcher’s call. “You didn’t warn me I’d need haz-mat gear. This place looks like it rents by the condom. I’m not touching the bed.”
“Bed flip or belly-down on the carpet. Your pick.”
Brad still looked disgusted, but his quick grab for the mattress showed he knew what Coop hoped to find. Sure enough, as soon as they flipped the stale-smelling box spring, they saw the duct tape holding together a gash in the tacking. Using a sheet as a makeshift glove, Coop poked at the bulges between the springs. Then he palmed his wallet and pulled out a twenty. He held it up to a bulge, which it fit perfectly.
“Cash. Stacks and stacks, from the looks of it.” Coop’s pulse kicked up a couple of notches. He loved solving puzzles. This one had all the makings of a real doozy. Couple that with the beautiful woman tying him up in sweaty knots of lust, and this was turning into the best vacation ever.
“Damn.” Brad kicked at the yellowed dust ruffle. “That doesn’t get us anywhere.”
“Yeah. Not illegal to hide cash in the bed, but whatever earned it for him sure as hell is.”
Brad whipped out his phone and snapped a few pictures. “Still, it’s a start. We’ve got proof—enough for us, anyway—Ivan’s a bad guy. Now we put on our white hats and get to work.”
* * *
“He’s very fat,” Trina complained. She lowered the binoculars. “If I have to spend all day staring at a man, why couldn’t he be ripped and tan instead of round and pasty?”
“That’s why they call it work.” Darcy handed over Trina’s shades to shield her from the merciless sun. It beat down through the cloudless sky, glinting with blinding brightness off the glasslike sea. She’d already been in the water twice to cool off. Trina refused to leave her post, however, keeping a non-stop watch on Ivan from afar. “Did you see anything interesting while I was gone?”
“A woman walked by wearing a terry wrap embroidered with a sequined flamingo.”
“That’s tragic, not interesting.”
Trina slugged back half of a water bottle in one long pull. “It was interesting because she had obviously fake breasts, but Ivan didn’t give her a second look.”
“Disgusting pervert—was she too old for him? What, was she over twenty?” Why did some men believe they could turn back the clock by dating younger and younger women? News flash—it only made them look older by comparison.
“Yes, but not by much. I put her at thirty, tops. I don’t think it was her age that turned him off, though. She’s an American. Walked by me talking on her cell, and had a Philly accent strong enough I could almost smell cheesesteaks.”
“So?”
“So, in addition to having this pervy need to touch the asses of women barely old enough to be his granddaughters, they all have thick foreign accents. A lot like his.”
“Definitely interesting. What do you think that means?” Darcy had noticed the sea of accents surrounding them, like the mishmash of a chopped salad. The flat twang of the blue collar workers from along the coast, the crisp, professional city-types, and plenty of southern drawls. But now that Trina mentioned it, she’d also heard a surprising amount of thick Eastern European accents as well. Every time they went to a store or a restaurant, the cashiers spoke broken English.
“I don’t know.” Trina tossed her glasses on the towel. Scowling, she tilted her head up to watch a surprisingly noisy red biplane pulling yet another ad for all you can eat buffets and pizza. They sputtered by at least twice an hour.
“One step at a time. We’ll figure it out.” Resting the binoculars on her nose, Darcy took over the watch so Trina could take a break. “Hey, he’s on the move. But just down to the water to take a dip. His latest ‘friend’ is still hanging out under the umbrella.”
“Really? That’s perfect.”
Uh oh. Darcy worried that Trina had cooked up some sort of plan. She really hoped it didn’t involve a papier-mâché shark, or anything else crazy that might get them kicked off the beach. “Why? What’s so special about cooling off in the ocean?”
Trina put two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. A girl with
SCOPES
in large white letters across her shorts turned around and jogged over to them. She wore a tan dark enough to pay the college tuition for some lucky dermatologist’s kid in ten years, a fake lei, and a big camera around her neck. “Hi, Trina. Are you ready for me now?”
“Ready for what?” Yup, Darcy had a bad feeling about this. Trina’s brainstorms had a way of creating more problems than they solved. “How about you do a quick two-minute consult with your partner over here?”
Handing over a piece of paper wrapped in a twenty dollar bill, Trina winked. “Now is the perfect time. Thanks for helping.” The girl jogged away in Ivan’s direction, ponytail bobbing beneath her cap.
Almost scared to ask, Darcy poked Trina’s leg. “What just happened?”
She looked inordinately pleased with herself. “Let’s just say I rolled the dice.”
“Let’s not. Instead, how about you spit out every single detail on whatever scheme it is you’ve concocted? ’Cause I have to tell you, yesterday’s little adventure didn’t turn out so well.”
Trina toyed with the adhesive butterfly strips on her cheek. “Don’t worry. That’s why we’re in a different spot today, so far away from Ivan. He has no idea we’re here. This is perfectly safe.”
“Uh huh.” Telling someone not to worry was like telling them a mosquito bite didn’t itch. It just didn’t work. Darcy raised the binoculars again, charting the girl’s progress through the maze of wide, yellow rental umbrellas, interspersed with the bright stripes, enormous tents and tropical fish patterns of those from the local chain of fun-in-the-sun suppliers.
“The Scopes girl runs around all day taking pictures. They can be picked up the next day in these cute little pastel holders that hang on your key chain,” Trina explained. “The Scopes kids swarm the beach like ants. I know you’ve seen them. The guys all have a stripe of purple zinc down their noses. Horrible summer job.”
“Well, I’m glad to know that’s one possible career you’ve crossed off your list. But your point would be?”
“Everyone out here is used to seeing them. So I figured it’d be totally safe if she approached one of Ivan’s mystery girls.”
“Safe in that Ivan won’t backhand her across the face, sure. But what good does it do us to get her picture snapped?”
Trina patronizingly patted her on the head. “Gotta think outside the box. All that college time’s made your brain rigid. The Scopes girl—oh, her name’s London, by the way. I promised if she helped me out with this, she could come back tomorrow and take real pictures of us. Or you and Coop. You should definitely have a memento of this week when you’re gone.”