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I really do need a social life. Most of the people on my phone are work contacts, people I rarely speak to outside of investigations or consultations. Nearing the end, I scroll back up, pausing over Trent’s name. He’s already been nice enough to take in my dog, Spiegel, for the week.
Would it be weird to call and rant about this?
A few months ago, he or Beckett would have been my first call, although Trent would have been more likely to answer. It’s not like I want him, but I always get the feeling Brooke hates it when I call.
I tap Mom’s name, but after it rings several times and goes to voicemail, I remember it’s a Tuesday afternoon and she’s at some group thing with her friends. I groan, roll to my side and continue through the list.
Dozens of people I talk with on a regular basis and not a one to call now.
Fuck it. I slip my phone into my shoulder bag, slide on my flip-flops and grab my book. Maybe I can at least get some sun on my pale ass.
Not literally.
* * *
My small condo is one of three along the front of the complex, and the back door opens straight into the inner courtyard. Half of the area is lined with beautiful trees and foliage, with several places to sit in the shade and enjoy the weather. Now that the wedding-breakers have cleared out of the larger condos in back, I can finally enjoy the space, but I shudder to imagine the mess left inside for the cleaners. Although those units are much larger than the single-family unit I booked, the group must have had twenty or thirty people packed into each.
Fortunately, they’re gone and, despite the worrisome response from the bank, I intend to enjoy the peace.
The pool is on the north side of the courtyard, and as I approach, I see a male form gliding through the water.
Sometimes payback is a saint.
I take a seat in the sun, watching as Riker breaks the surface of the water and continues in a breaststroke to the edge of the pool. The water trickles through his dark hair and over his taut muscles with every movement.
Another tattoo on his left shoulder blade catches my eye, but I can’t make out what it is before he turns and completes his lap ten feet from where I sit.
My breath catches as Riker lifts his eyes, wiping his hand over the droplets of water clinging to his beard.
“So much for having the pool to myself.”
“Don’t mind me. Please, continue. Just like I’m not even here.”Please for the love of anything good in the world.
“Are you objectifying me?”
I open my mouth as if shocked. “Maybe a little, but turnabout’s fair play and all that. Besides, I’m here to have fun, even if all evidence points to the contrary.”
“Well, sorry to be of further disappointment, but I’m just finishing up.” He lifts himself out of the water and grabs a towel from the nearby table, drying off his face, then throwing the towel over his shoulders. He doesn’t turn back until he’s pulled on a t-shirt. “Did you get things worked out with the bank?”
“No. There’s a hold on my accounts.” I flip my hand in the air. “Apparently someone tried to hack in and get my information, since my numbers could be compromised, I’m out of luck until I can get to a branch tomorrow and withdraw money.”
“That bites.” He sits sideways on the lounge chair next to me, facing me with his forearms against his still damp thighs.
“Sorry I interrupted your workout.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “I’ve been out here for a while. My shoulder doesn’t really appreciate too much sun right now, so I was taking advantage while it’s quiet and there’s some shade over the pool.”
After he mentions his arm he looks away. I’d noticed burn marks around the edge of his shirt sleeves. Curious as I am, I resist the urge to ask about it given his obvious discomfort.
“Well, I’m taking advantage of a little sun and free entertainment.” I drum my fingers on the book cover, and Riker chuckles, relaxing the tension in his shoulders and neck.
He rocks to his feet and runs the towel over his hair again. “I’m heading in to get a shower, then walking to a little restaurant up the beach, if you’d like to join me for dinner. My treat since you can’t be on vacation starving.”
My chest tightens and a tingling sensation radiates downward from my collarbone. I don’t want dinner because he feels sorry for me, but I get the feeling that isn’t his real motivation either. “Coffee, dinner, I’m beginning to feel like a bum.”
He tips his head to the side, appraising me for a moment. “You don’t really look the part, but if it makes you feel better, you can treat me after you get everything worked out.”
Oh, wouldn’t I love to treat him. Three days into my vacation and I’m falling deeper in debt to Adonis. Now I just have to figure out how, exactly, I’m going to work out this bank fiasco.
