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Chapter Two

Birch Merrill watched the gorgeous brunette strut away from him. He grinned to himself. He wasn’t really into meaningless flirtation, but he’d surprised himself by flirting hard with her. Was it simply that he was bored, being at home on leave, or was the dark-eyed, witty beauty something special? He didn’t know, but he’d find out tomorrow night. He liked that she hadn’t given him her number. It showed she was not only smart about being safe, but she was confident enough to make him work for it. He wished he’d at least begged for her name.

She looked familiar to him, something about her throaty, appealing voice really stood out. He wondered if he’d met her before or maybe she was someone famous? It wasn’t uncommon to see actresses, models, and socialites on Dana Beach. He shuddered, hoping she wasn’t an actress.

His parents’ monstrous home wasn’t too far south of where he’d run into the beauty. The den of drama and theatrics. He hated it there, but he was trying to be a martyr and put in a few days in purgatory before he fought his way back to freedom. He had almost sixty days of leave built up from the past two years of taking only an occasional long weekend. His Special Forces Ops team leader, Isaac Jewel, had forced him to use his leave rather than lose it and Birch had promised his mother he would come visit on his next leave.

Birch would’ve rather lost his leave so he didn’t need to fulfill that promise. His family was … a nightmare in his mind. Everybody had hard families, right? Not Isaac Jewel. He had a gorgeous, hilarious wife, kind parents, and a whole slew of happy siblings who actually liked each other. Odd, but it gave Birch hope—until he spent time with his own family. Hope was harder to find than harmony in the Middle East.

Birch hadn’t been home in over four years, though his parents had come to visit him a couple of times. Luckily short visits. He’d spent his previous leave time traveling Europe with some friends from college and then exploring the Caribbean islands with some military buddies. He should feel guilty about not wanting to be here. He didn’t. His mother and sister were both well-known actresses and accomplished divas. They would lie, cheat, steal, sleep with anyone, or promote any product to be successful.

How his dad endured the drama, theatrics, tears, lies, and pouting Birch would never understand. The poor guy had aged twenty years in the last four. Birch’s younger brother had lost everything because of his fatalistic love for an actress, begging Birch to swear to him to never date one. Eight hours later Blade had overdosed. It had been an easy promise to make as Birch had earlier that night been dumped by the actress he thought he loved. Blade’s death made his promise to stay away from actresses unbreakable in Birch’s mind.

Birch turned and started jogging south back to his parents’ home. He’d made his token visit, spent almost twenty-four hours in close proximity to his family. Maybe he could buy an RV with all the pay he’d stashed the past six years since he’d finished college and chosen a full-time Air Force career then worked his way up to Special Forces. He didn’t have much to spend his money on, except the demanded extravagant presents for his mother and sister on Christmas and birthdays. He knew he had love somewhere inside for his family. He just couldn’t stand to be around them for longer than eight minutes. Three on certain days.

Blowing out a breath, he increased his speed. A man approached the other way wearing a full-face mask and a Mets cap. The guy’s blue eyes darted everywhere but at Birch, as if afraid to meet his gaze. Probably one of those who was still afraid of the virus that had swept their world last spring. Thankfully, a vaccine had been approved and distributed a month ago. A lot of people had gotten in the habit of wearing masks in public and still hadn’t stopped. Birch didn’t blame people for being cautious after a worldwide pandemic but still … this guy gave him the creeps for some reason.

The sun had set as Birch approached the staircase that would lead him to the bluff by his parents’ home. Did he take the steps or just keep running all night? It was a mild fall evening in Southern Cal. He could sleep on the sand. He’d definitely slept in worse spots. The police would comb the beach for drug dealers and homeless people after dark, though. His mother would be mortified to have the local police bring him home like they had in high school for making oxygen-acetylene bombs on the beach. He grimaced just thinking about that explosion—his mother’s, not the homemade bomb. He’d enjoyed the bomb.

Forcing himself up the steps, he heard music and voices floating down to him. His gut tightened. He’d only been gone a couple of hours. Had they started a party in his absence? Wouldn’t they have told him if they’d planned a party so he could make sure tonotmake an appearance?

He ascended the last few steps with feet as heavy as concrete blocks. Twinkling lights came from the patio overhang, and the pool and house both glowed. Dozens of people were mingling around the patio, holding wine glasses and wearing suits and formal evening gowns. Oh boy.

He tried to fade into the shadows and skirt around the party and into the house before his mother or sister saw him. He’d thought the police bringing him home from making a bomb was bad in high school. He couldn’t imagine the eruption if his mother glimpsed him sweaty and in a t-shirt and shorts at one of her exclusive parties.

A blonde bombshell saw him first, grinned stupidly, and made a beeline for him.

“Hey there, handsome.” She grabbed his arm and tried to tug him back toward the party. Birch didn’t want to be rude but he wasn’t going anywhere with this woman in a form-fitted red dress, so much makeup on he couldn’t tell if she actually had a real face underneath, and her hair in perfect blonde curls that luckily covered some of her exposed bosom.

The beauty he’d met on the beach had very little makeup on, her long, dark hair in a ponytail, and a simple t-shirt and skirt on that highlighted her incredible shape in a classy way. She’d been clean, fresh, and appealing, upping his hopes that she couldn’t possibly be an actress. She was a million times more appealing to him than this woman.

“What are you doing, tough guy?” she slurred. “Come party with us.”

How many glasses of wine had she downed? She’d probably already consumed some before the party to be this sloshed.

He tried to give her a charming smile, but his face felt stiff. “Excuse me while I shower. I wouldn’t want to offend you with the sweat I accumulated on my run.”

She gave up trying to tug him toward the pool and pressed up against him. “I don’t mind sweat. I think you’re …” She ran her tongue over her lips obnoxiously. “Sexy.” Her perfume and the reek of alcohol on her breath wasn’t a good combo. No wonder she didn’t mind the stench of sweat.

His eyes watered and he grasped her arms and stepped back. “Please pardon my absence while I shower.” He had no plans of coming back after his shower, but she didn’t have to know that.

“Birch?” The voice came from behind him.

He happily turned from the blonde woman and took quick strides across the patio to whoever was speaking. It couldn’t be as bad as this drunk trying to hit on him. When he saw who it was, he stopped in his tracks and would’ve backpedaled but the blonde was tottering toward him from behind.

“Bermuda,” he greeted her coolly and then quickly side-stepped as he sensed the blonde rapidly approaching.

The blonde had been in the act of reaching for him and she crashed into a chair instead, screaming out in pain and surprise. Several people turned at the commotion and Birch prayed his mother and sister were distracted.

Bermuda stared him up and down, a longing look in her blue eyes. “You look good, Birch,” she said.

Birch forced a smile, wishing he could say the same. It had been almost eight years since they’d been face to face. Bermuda didn’t look much different from the blonde he was trying to escape from: too much makeup, too tight of a fancy dress, and a hardness that neither could mask. She’d fought to get to the top and trampled everybody in her path that cared about her. Him included. Luckily, the up-and-coming actress stirred nothing in him now. Not that she would’ve cared. The adult Bermuda would only date someone who could further her connections or her bank account. As Birch’s sister and mother had already helped her with her career, her goal for dating him in the first place, he could be little help to her now. He didn’t even need his brother’s death-night promise to keep him away from this actress.

“I need to take a shower.” He lowered his voice, wondering if there was any of the conspirator in her that used to sneak to the beach with him during parties like this and liked to quietly defy his mother as much as he did. “You know my mother would not be happy to see me stinky and sweaty at one of her parties.”

Bermuda smiled and for a moment he saw the love and desire she used to have for him before she blinked and looked away, probably checking which famous person was watching. He felt a sting of guilt as their ugly breakup played through his mind. He’d said things he shouldn’t have when she dumped him for Jeremiah Jansen, a scumball Birch had known since high school, who’d assured Bermuda a fabulous movie role if she ditched Birch and dated him. She hadn’t even defended herself, simply walked away. It was the last time they’d spoken.

The blonde had impressively made it back to her feet and was coming at him again. Birch knew he would run into the fence and have nowhere to escape to if he stepped back into the shadows again—the yard wasn’t that big. He didn’t want to do it, but he dodged the other direction, toward the pool and into the view of more partygoers. The blonde darted after him, quicker than he’d thought a drunk woman could move. He feinted to the left and the woman went straight past a lounge chair and into the water with a loud splash and as many curse words as he’d heard on military training exercises.

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