Chapter Eighteen
Once they found their spot on the beach, Sam made three trips back to the car to shuttle towels and coolers and enough baby gear to care for three dozen infants. Finally, he sat back in a beach chair to watch the boys fling sand around with the little green shovels. He was ready to grab them away if either baby looked ready to spoon up a mouthful of it.
“Would you mind if I went for a quick dip in the ocean?” Sheri asked.
He turned to look at her and felt a stir of arousal that was growing all too familiar. “Will that require you stripping down to just a bikini?”
She grinned. “If I say yes, are you going to ogle me as I walk to the water?”
“I’m going to ogle you no matter what.”
“I plan to hold you to that.”
“It won’t be hard. Speaking of hard things—”
She swatted him with a towel and stood up. “We were not speaking of hard things. By the way, did I tell you Mac’s coming to visit again soon?”
“He is?”
Christ, Sam thought. He’ll take one look at us and know in an instant we’ve slept together.
“I know what you said this morning about putting it all out there for my brothers, but if you’re not ready—” She bit her lip. “Well, I’m not totally sure I’m ready.”
“No, it’s great,” Sam said, ignoring the dread pooling in his chest. “Can’t wait to see him again. Speaking of things I haven’t seen for a while, why are you still wearing a shirt?”
Sheri laughed and pulled off her top. She wore a bright-red bikini top in sports bra style. More conservative than those stringy styles Sam saw everywhere in Hawaii, but somehow even hotter on Sheri.
“You’re beautiful,” he said without thinking.
“Thank you.” She smiled and stood up. “If all you can do is grope me with your eyes at the moment, then I guess I’d better make it worth your while.”
She shucked her cotton shorts and stood there for a moment with her curves silhouetted against the sun. Her hair was loose and wild, and the low-rise red bikini bottoms showed off her fabulous ass in a way that made Sam grateful he’d opted for loose-fitting swim trunks. “That’s worth every second of the excruciating agony my testicles will be experiencing for the next few hours.”
Sheri laughed and tossed her hair. “You’re such a romantic.” She turned and jogged off down the beach toward the water.
He watched her go, feeling an ache that was nowhere near his balls.
When she was out of sight, he glanced down at her beach bag. He’d seen her slip her phone into the front pocket, so he shoved his hand into it, fishing around for the glittery pink case. He pulled the phone out, glancing back toward the beach to see if she was watching him.
All clear.
Sam hit the power button and saw the new message alert from Jonathan.
Must talk to you. Don’t you want to know who Sam really is?
He frowned and looked back down the beach. She was waist-deep in the ocean, laughing as a soft wave splashed up and hit her in the belly. She turned and smiled at him, waving as the wind tousled her curls.
He waved back, doing his best to hide the phone in his lap.
The instant she turned around, he deleted the message.
…
They stayed at the beach all day, stopping to snack when they got hungry and taking turns watching the boys while the other napped or bodysurfed or explored the beach. It was an easy sort of partnership that made Sam ache to savor it for more than just a couple weeks.
The sun was beginning to drop low in the sky as they packed up their gear.
“I had a really nice time today,” she said. “Thanks for being part of it.”
“My pleasure. I had a great day, too. Toss me that towel over there and I’ll make the first run to the car.”
He’d just stood up with both arms full of gear when an older gentleman approached from the side. He tipped his red-and-white-striped derby hat at Sheri as he slung a fishing pole over one shoulder.
“Afternoon, ma’am,” he said to Sheri. “Nice to see you out here when you’re not too dressed up to enjoy the weather.”
She smiled back, warm and friendly, as a jolt of dread knifed through Sam’s gut. Wasn’t this the guy he’d met during his spy mission to PMRF a week ago? Sam pulled his baseball cap lower, trying his damnedest not to be noticed. Would the old guy remember him? They’d only spoken a few words, but Sam had admitted he was a Marine. That he was here doing a favor for a buddy.
He slid his sunglasses on and prayed the guy wouldn’t remember any of it.
“I just started working at PMRF on Monday,” Sheri was saying, “so it was fun to bring the whole family out here to enjoy the area. How’s the fishing today?”
“Can’t complain. Can I give you folks a hand?”
He turned to Sam, reaching out to take one of the beach bags. Sam watched as recognition lit up the old guy’s face.
“Hey there, I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said, sticking out a hand for Sam to shake. “Didn’t get a chance to introduce myself properly last weekend. The name’s Arthur Ziegler. Retired Marine sergeant, living here now with my son and his wife and their boys.”
Sam returned the handshake, glancing at Sheri to see a bewildered look on her face. “Um, pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m just going to run these things up to the car and—”
“I didn’t catch your name, son.” He smiled at Sheri. “Any of your names, actually.”
“I’m so sorry, this is Sam and Jackson and Jeffrey and I’m Sheri,” she said. “Did you say you’d met Sam before?”
“No!” Sam said a little too quickly. “Just now. We’re just now meeting, that is.”
Arthur turned and gave him a curious look. “That so? Maybe I’m confusing you with someone else.” He studied Sam a moment, his expression perplexed. “My memory’s not what it used to be, but I coulda sworn I met you out here last weekend. You’re a Marine here doing a favor for a buddy, right? I swear—”
“Nope, you must be thinking of someone else,” Sam interrupted before Arthur could describe Sam’s tattoo or repeat their conversation or give any further proof Sam had been here scoping out Sheri’s workplace.
His face felt hot and his hands were clammy and he was pretty sure he was going to lose it completely if he didn’t escape. He had to get Arthur away from Sheri. “I sure do appreciate your offer to help though, sir. Would you mind grabbing that cooler right there? The car’s just up here a bit.”
He started walking fast, hoping to God the old man would follow, that he hadn’t already done too much damage, that his whole world wasn’t about to come crashing down around him.
“Sure thing, son,” Arthur said as he picked up the cooler. He fell into step beside Sam, and Sam heaved a silent sigh of relief. When they’d gone about ten paces, he turned back to look at Sheri.
She was staring after them with an odd look on her face and her phone gripped in one hand.
She wasn’t smiling.