Maybe with a vodka chaser.
Finally, he stopped and lowered me against a rock that was in the crude shape of a chair. I held on to the side of it as my butt landed on the wet rock.
He bent at the waist and dragged in a breath.
“That huffing and puffing better not come with a dietary warning.”
“Lugging a twenty-pound bag would be hard, let alone a buck twenty.”
“Seventeen, thank you.”
“Excuse me.” He collapsed against the cave wall. “Where do you think she would hide something?”
“Check the little crevices for a small shelf or stone box.”
He felt along the walls. He was methodical and thorough. A helluva lot more patient than I would be, to be honest. I scooted around on the various rocks and did the lower sections of the cave.
“Are you sure it would be this side?”
“This is where she took me all the time as a kid. We used to hide conch shells with little semi-precious gems in them.”
He lifted an eyebrow at me.
I shrugged. “For the mermaids.”
“Of course.”
“Can’t live on the beach as a kid—especially one named Lady’s Cove—without stories of mermaids and crashed ships.”
“I suppose not.”
We kept searching. My fingers were almost numb, but I kept moving down the rocks. Finally, a piece fell away. “Blake.”
He backtracked to crouch beside me. “What’d you find?”
“A shelf. I can feel something.”
“Let me.”
“Your hand’s too big.” The hole was very dark. “Please don’t be an animal or something,” I whispered and stuck my hand inside. There was something there. Smooth and jagged on the corners.
I coaxed it out with my forefinger until it dropped into my palm. “Help me down?” Maybe? My chest tightened as I held up my find.
Blake jumped to the sandy part of the cove. The tide was out, so the sand was packed down tight. I scooted to the edge and let him lift me into his arms.
“Wash it off?”
He nodded and took the lump and crouched near the water’s edge. He came back with clean hands and a small conch shell.
Disappointment flooded my eyes with tears. “Mermaid,” I said as I brushed away a cracked piece of shell to find a jade lookalike stone. I dimly remembered tucking the sand around the leather cord and pretty drop pendant. The cord had long since disintegrated leaving a sea-ravaged jump-ring through the stone.
Instinctively, I tucked it into my jacket pocket, but it definitely wasn’t what I was searching for.
Blake slid an arm around my waist and gathered me in. “Let’s get you back.”
I nodded into the warmth of his jacket. “In a minute.” I let a few stupid tears drip down my face as I laid my cheek against his chest.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “The tide is starting to come in. We can try again another day.”
“Yeah.” I sighed and burrowed deeper into his coat. He smelled of spice and brine. The scratchy material of his sweater made my fingertips tingle.
I’d really wanted to find something. I was so very tired of all the mysteries revolving around my grandmother. I’d known her all my life, and yet now I was beginning to wonder if the real Annabelle was just a bundle of lies wrapped in diary pages.
Blake trailed little circles along my lower spine. He didn’t say anything, didn’t rush me along, didn’t do anything but hold me. Just when I’d slotted him in one space, he spread out to another.
I raised my face to the triangle of skin at the top of his V-neck sweater. He wore a button-down shirt underneath it—typical Blake. Even when he wasn’t wearing a suit, he ended up wearing something a little stuffy beneath his casual clothes.
I pressed a kiss to his neck.
He groaned. “Ah, Grace. Let me take you home.”
“In a minute,” I said as I flicked my tongue over the swirl of hair around his Adam’s apple. His beard was about as unkempt as I’d ever seen him.
I wanted a little of that wild.
It was always there under the surface, but he locked it down so effortlessly most of the time.
I closed my lips around the stiffness, my body humming as it bobbed with a harsh groan. I loved when he made noise. It was fairly rare. A growl, a moan, and the occasional breathless gasp of my name.
That’s what I wanted now.
To feel alive.
To push away the memories of the high water ripping at me. I wanted it to be Blake holding me down. I wanted it to be Blake filling me with his heat. The flood of his release baptizing a new memory in the cove that had only held good memories up until that one night.
I sneaked my hand under his sweater. He hissed as my cold fingers met with hot, hard muscle, then lower along the arrow of hair.
He groaned as my knuckle traced the silky dome of his cock. I moved him over on the rocks until there was a small boulder that I could rest my knee on.
“Grace.”
I twisted my fingers around his shaft as I tugged his zipper down with my other hand. I looked up at him. “I want you here.”