He shrugs.
“It’s unconstitutional!” My high-pitched shriek bounces off the walls.
“It’s contractual.”
“So that’s it, you’re not going to help me.”
“I’m trying to help you, but you’re asking for something I can’t do. It’s out of my hands, freckles.”
My hands fist uncontrollably at my sides and damn him and his growing smirk.
“I expected more from a military man.”
All the humor in his face dissolves. Gotcha!
“Isn’t your motto to protect and serve?”
“I ain’t a cop.”
“No, you’re not. A cop would have enough integrity to prorate my money back.”
“Feel better?” It’s casual but I don’t miss the tick in his jaw.
“Guess the whole military respect thing is a foreign concept to you.”
The light spark in his eyes dies and he stares at me blank-faced, completely emotionless.
I should stop, but Celia is dying and what kind of sister would I be if I just sit here and let him talk like she’s some money-hungry whore. “I guess I shouldn’t expect much from someone who kills people for money!”
“Fuck this.” He turns and stomps to the door, slamming it behind him so hard the walls shake.
I expect him to take a hard left in the direction of his cottage, but instead he jogs toward the beach.
“Dammit.” I huff out a breath, the anger in my blood calming with the growing distance he put between us.
Guilt washes in, but I push it back. I may have attacked his integrity, but he deserved it.
Okay, so he didn’t exactly call Celia a slut, I suppose all he did was point out the obvious. But no one talks shit about my sister. No one. Not even good-looking military men who go out of their way to get my electricity back up.
I plug in my phone and once it’s charged enough to turn on I dial my sister’s number all while ignoring the weird heaviness in my chest.
“So?” She answers right away but sounds tired. “Tell me how much you love my life.”
“Celia . . . this was such a stupid idea.”
“I got your message last night. Stop sounding so miserable and talk to me.”
I sigh and drop back to the couch as far as the phone charging cord will let me. “I think we should’ve talked a little more before I agreed to do this. Why didn’t you tell me about Brice?”
“Is he still there?” She laughs. “Man . . . we had some fun times together.”
“He kissed me!”
“Toe curling, right?” How can she sound so excited when I feel like I’ve been put through an emotional wood chipper?
“That’s not the point.”
“Of course it’s the point. Tell me right now you didn’t enjoy that kiss.”
I did. I totally did. “It was awkward, Cece. I don’t even know the guy!”
“So what? Haven’t you ever kissed someone you don’t know before?”
I roll my lips between my teeth.
“Your lack of response tells me all I need to know.” She huffs out a breath. “Jeez, Sawyer, you needed this more than I thought.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“If I had you’d go in with too many expectations.”
“Did you know your place had been broken into?”
“No.”
“Mr. Hurtado’s nephew runs the place now, he said he left a message.”
“I don’t listen to those.” There’s sadness in her voice. “I don’t want to know about everything going on outside of my bedroom. It only reminds me of what I’m missing.”
“Yeah.” I guess I can understand that.
“So you have to have sex with Brice.”
“Celia!”
“Shhh . . .” She laughs quietly. “You’ll give us away.”
“I have a lot to do, I just wanted to call and tell you I hate you for making me do this.”
“You love me. And if you have sex with Brice you’ll really love me.”
“Oh my GAWD!”
She’s still laughing! “I promise when you get back to Phoenix and your nine-to-five life you’ll thank me for making you do this.”
“Maybe.” So far I’ve met a gorgeous man who kissed me until my head spun, and an even better-looking, albeit rougher man who managed to excite me as much as he drove me crazy. “How are you feeling?”
“Fantastic. I have a ton of energy, might even go run some errands with Mom today.”
I grin to myself. “That’s good news.”
“All right, go pack up my stuff, and Sawyer?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t be afraid to have a little fun. You’ve earned it.”
“Love you.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Bye.”
What do I do now? A small voice in the back of my head says I need to find Aden and apologize, even though that’s the last thing I want to do.
Digging into my pocket I pull out the single quarter Celia gave me and I close my eyes. “Tails I apologize, heads I get packing.”
I toss the coin and when I hear it land on the hardwood floor with a thump, I squat down to learn my fate.
“Shit.” This should be interesting.
FIVE
ADEN
I’m always amazed by how different the sun feels at the same temperature in different locales. How the same ball of flaming gas can feel like a blowtorch blasting against me when I’m belly down in the dirt staring through the scope of my rifle, and a warm blanket when I’m on the boat, hunched over an ice chest pulling out a cold beer.
Granted, no one’s trying to kill me when I’m grabbing a beer, I suppose that could be a contributing factor.
“Where’re you headin’, Colt?” Jenkins’s rusty cough caused by a lifetime of cheap cigars comes closer.
Somewhere far the fuck away from here. “San Clemente Island.”
He smells like stale smoke, bait, and wood rot, like any old-timer fisherman should. “Yellowtail’s bitin’.”
I crack open the pop-top on my beer and help myself to that first refreshing swig that soothes a bit of the fury left over from my encounter with Celia this morning. “You putting in your dinner order?”
“Damn straight.” He wobbles off, half hunched over from years of slinging fish. “I’ll be at the Office.”
His unsteady gate down the dock reminds me of what Celia looked like negotiating the planks in those ridiculous heels.
What the hell does Cal see in that woman? I mean, besides her being attractive, which she most definitely is, but not in an obvious way. I suppose my uncle being a dirty old man, he may have been able to look past her uptight attitude. Where’s the girl from the picture? I didn’t see even a hint of the carefree smile that screams of a well-loved life. And really, how can she be pissed at me for asking questions about photos she has proudly displayed in her place? Makes no fucking sense.
And her response, bagging on the military, the men who’ve become more family to me than my own blood, the men who died horrific deaths defending her freedom to be a bitch. She’s got some fucking nerve.