High Tide

by Michelle Mankin

  “Just the one time.” The I-don’t-make-threats call.

  Samuel phoning Fanny was a message to me. Not so cryptic. He was letting me know if I persisted, she was next.

  I tightened one hand on the phone and curled the other one into a knot like my stomach felt, like I felt, knotted and tangled within the net he’d thrown over me.

  “Listen, I don’t think the party’s really a good idea. I wanted to stop you before you went to a lot of trouble on my behalf.”

  “It’s your birthday, Hollie.” She hit me with her big-sister voice. “It’s not any trouble to celebrate with you.”

  “I know, but—”

  “I haven’t missed one of your birthdays your entire life.”

  “Yes, and I love that, but—”

  “Not planning to start missing any now. Everything’s ready. You’re coming.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Is there some other reason you’re trying to back out?”

  “Max might not come with me.”

  “Well, that’s a shame.”

  “I won’t have protection. The paps are really giving me a hard time right now. They were all over me in New York. Coming to OB, even if I try to keep it low key, could potentially be a big circus. I just think it would be better not to do it at all.”

  “Just let me handle everything.”

  “Fanny, c’mon.”

  “No, Hols. Listen, I wasn’t going to do this to you because you’re under a lot of pressure, and I realize that. But I miss you. Birthdays are the hardest time for both of us without Mom. I need you here, even if you don’t want to come.”

  “I do want to come,” I whispered, guilt spinning together with the rest of the toxic stew inside my stomach.

  “I’ve got a promo spot with Ash to do for Outside with one of the local affiliates Friday morning, but I can send Diesel up to get you.”

  “No, not Diesel. No way.”

  “Yes, way.”

  “I thought he was out of town.”

  “He came back. Everybody’s ginned up about the party.”

  “He’s ginned up to torture me.”

  “Maybe. He’s Diesel. He lives and breathes to torture us all.”

  “Why can’t Linc or Ramon get me?”

  “Linc’s on decorating duty, and Ramon won’t leave Karen’s side. He follows her around like she’s made of glass.”

  “The pregnancy. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, first-baby jitters. Ash teases him about it all the time. They all do. So, Diesel it is. He’s way more intimidating than Linc or Ramon anyway. No paparazzo is going to want to mess with a six-and-a-half-foot tall Polynesian dude with a bad attitude. No more excuses, Hols. The matter’s closed. You’re coming.”

  She hung up, and I stared at the receiver in shock.

  But then the phone rang again, and her pretty face came up on the display via Facetime rather than a regular phone call. She probably wanted to deliver the guilt face-to-face this time.

  “Sorry. I got emotional. I don’t like you trying to carve me out of your life. It hurts. You know it does.”

  I nodded. It was a cut that sliced both ways.

  “I’m calling Hart and telling him about the latest development. If anything changes on your end, you call him too. Okay?”

  “Okay, Fanny. Good-bye.”

  This time I ended the call.

  Talking to my sister didn’t center me, but it did firm my resolve. I had to figure out a way to put distance between us, and I had to accomplish it without her realizing what I was doing. Tears choked me just considering it.

  I knew what I had to do. I just didn’t know how to do it.

  • • •

  No dinner. The fridge in my fancy new stainless-steel kitchen was well stocked, but I didn’t feel like eating. Score in the positive column because the scale in the bathroom of my very empty condo had me down two pounds.

  Score in the negative column that my cell remained as quiet as the interior of the unfamiliar eighteen-hundred-square-foot space.

  I made myself sit down on a towel by the window for yoga. I’d neglected my meditation for almost two full weeks. Since I left Ocean Beach, I’d neglected a lot of things.

  An hour of yoga completed went in the positive column. My stomach didn’t churn so badly after that.

  A shower. Another glance at my cell. No return texts. No missed calls. Double negative.

  I returned to the master bedroom and unzipped my bag. Max’s shirt was at the top, the 2 Rows Back one I had been wearing to bed. Seeing it gave me pause. I laid it on the comforter and moved to the nightstand to check my phone again. The ringer first to make sure it remained on. It was. The display remained blank. No calls. No messages. I was beginning to expect there not to be.

  I put my clothes from the trip in the laundry hamper. A housekeeping service was scheduled to come each day. Fanny said I grew up not knowing how to do the basic things like laundry and cooking, and she was right. The first five years of her life with our mother had been very different from mine. I wouldn’t even know how to turn the oven on.

  I drew the shirt over my head for pajamas and brought the collar up to my nose. Inhaling, I caught a whiff of Max’s sandalwood-lemon scent, and my eyes watered as I climbed into bed.

  Me alone in a big bed. Me unsettled. Me replaying every conversation and second-guessing it all.

  Negative. Negative. Negative.

  For a man who had been in my life such a brief time, his absence took up a whole lot of space.

  I turned on my side and scooted to the edge of the bed, facing the nightstand where my cell charged. After I reached up to switch off the lamp, I tucked my hands under my chin and closed my eyes. Tightly, I squeezed them oh-so-tightly shut. Yet tears somehow escaped anyway.

  Hours later, my alarm woke me up. I grabbed my cell and swiped off the clock function. My stomach dropped when I saw that I had no messages.

  Determined to do what I needed to, I sat up, threw the covers back, and climbed out of bed. I avoided my reflection in the bathroom mirror as I hurried to get ready for the day.

  Luckily for me, no test shots were being taken. I’d only slept for an hour before my alarm had gone off, and knew I looked horrible. I could avoid that negative today.

  But I couldn’t avoid thinking about Max.

  • • •

  “Hollie speaking.”

  I took the call on the way home from the studio, at the end of the second day of preproduction. Costume fittings. Script run-throughs. Cast and crew meetings. Walk-throughs of the upcoming filming schedule. I was glad I’d had the weekend in New York City to recuperate before throwing myself into this whirlwind.

  Two twelve-hour days in a row, and I’d completed them on little to no sleep. I told myself I didn’t bother to check the display on my cell because I was too tired to care who was on the line.

  “How are you holding up?”

  Disappointment washed over me at the sound of her voice. “I’m doing all right, Olivia,” I lied. “What’s up?”

  “Mostly good news. Valentine’s people love you. They want to lead with your image on a lot of the advance promotional shots. All the photos from New York, the ones with the inappropriate bylines, at least, have been taken down.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “I couldn’t find a security service with transportation included to take you to the party and bring you back.”

  “All right.” I exhaled heavily.

  “You’re dead set on going to Ocean Beach anyway, even though I’ve advised against it.”

  “I’m going. I promised Fanny.” Even if it meant putting up with Diesel.

  “Your ride’s here.”

  Diesel Le at my door late Friday morning gave me pause, even though I’d been expecting him.

  “Your anything, anywhere ride,” I said, filling in for him as he gave me the slow once-over. “Yes, I know. We’ve had this type of conversation before.”

  “Not with you legal
age.” He grinned wickedly. “Now I can get descriptive.”

  “You’re early.” I shook my head at him, pretending his nonsense didn’t get to me, but it did.

  He did.

  “I’m never early.” He leaned an elbow into the door frame above my head and grinned down at me. “I always come right on time.”

  “I’m not in the mood for your innuendoes.” I lifted my chin to maintain eye contact, holding my ground, though I bristled as usual within moments in his presence.

  “Not implying anything. Stating fact.”

  “A fact as you see it.” I arched a brow.

  “I’m certainly willing to demonstrate.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  “Willing and able.” His lean toward me deepened. The scents of plumeria, coconut, and sea salt washed over me, plus a great deal of his heat. “Sex machine ready to go, beautiful. Just say the word. I’ll make it my birthday present to you.”

  “Not going to happen, Hawaiian dude.” I whirled around and motioned for him to follow. “C’mon. I need to finish getting dressed.”

  The snap of the soles of his flip-flops told me he followed me inside. “Nice place you got here.”

  “Thanks.” I turned around to find him directly behind me.

  Diesel towered over me, his chest wide, his arms corded with muscle. His long legs were strong, and his dark brown eyes gleamed.

  Adrenaline flooded my body. My overactive imagination put a sharp spear in his hand rather than an innocuous set of car keys. If we were in an earlier time and he was accessorized differently, he could be an ancient Polynesian warrior stalking a virgin to sacrifice.

  Gulp.

  “Wait here.” I tried to sound authoritative as I gestured to the sectional, but my arm trembled slightly. Truthfully, my entire body vibrated with nervousness whenever he was around.

  I’d forgotten how Diesel affected me.

  Correction. Not forgotten, wanted to forget. An important distinction.

  “You said something about getting dressed.” He swept his gaze over me. “I can certainly help with that. The undressing part, that is.”

  “Um, no.” My brows rose. “Are you crazy?”

  “Like a chick in a robe.”

  “I remember.”

  “I bet you do. I certainly won’t ever forget.”

  “We’re not doing a repeat,” I said firmly, quaking inside.

  “Aw, c’mon, beautiful,” he purred, sending shivers throughout my body, just like he had back then. “Just a little tug on the bow at your waist so I can unwrap my present. Goes right along with the birthday theme.”

  “Birthday present for you. Not me.”

  “Naked presents are meant to share.” He shook his head at me, and several long glossy black curls escaped his low ponytail. Shadows passed through his wide-set, almond-shaped eyes, the overall color darker brown now. “You know as well as I do that there’s chemistry between us.”

  “I know no such thing.” Yet my heart raced.

  “Where there’s friction, there’s fire.”

  “There’s no fire.” Yet my lips tingled with warmth as his gaze dipped to my mouth.

  “There most certainly is.” His eyes flared, masculine interest sharpening features that were already honed as if by a master sculptor’s hand.

  “In your dreams, not in reality.”

  “Dirty dreams that I’ll make a reality better than anything you can imagine.” Diesel reached out his hand.

  I pulled in a breath and held it as he captured a loose lock of my hair, his skin a deep coppery contrast against the pale strawberry-blond strand. His eyes followed his hand’s movement as he traced the lock of hair from a spot just below my ear to the end.

  Tremors of fiery sensation licked the surface of my skin as he released it. The pads of his roughened fingertips skimmed across the creamy slope of my breast before he withdrew his hand completely. An intentional caress.

  “Nice.” Diesel’s lips lifted, carving crescents into both sides of his mouth. “Hair’s nice too.”

  “Stop being an ass.” Extricating myself from his dark gaze and darker intentions, I found my voice, albeit a tellingly breathless one.

  “Just giving you a little taste of how it could be,” he said low as I inched away from him. “Deny it all you want, but the signs are there.”

  “What signs are those?”

  “Your eyes get dark whenever I touch you. Your lips part because you need more air for your racing heart. Probably because you’re picturing me and you naked. One of these days, I’m going to give you what you want.”

  “Don’t—”

  “You want my tongue inside your mouth, and my cock inside you. I want the same thing. My dick gets hard whenever you’re near. It’s hard right now.”

  “You get off intimidating me.” I withdrew another step back, resisting the urge to glance down to see if what he’d claimed was true.

  “Wrong. I get off just looking at you.” He erased the space I’d gained, the fabric of his turquoise swim trunks molding to his muscular thighs and revealing the truth of his claim. “Tits, ass, hair, and attitude like yours, what guy wouldn’t.”

  “All I know is that you irritate me.” I avoided his gaze.

  “Liar. You enjoy sparring with me.” The tension between us was as sharp as the cut of his muscles beneath his black tank. “Admit you want to see as much as I do how hot we could be together.”

  “I admit nothing.”

  Diesel grinned.

  “I mean there’s nothing between us.” I stomped my foot, my movement jarring parts of me that had begun to tighten and throb as I imagined what he’d described.

  “You continue to deny it.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze smoldering with challenge.

  “Knock it off.” I took several steps backward.

  “Retreat. Run away. If that’s the way you want it.” His eyes followed me, as sultry as the beat of my pulse. “I’ll have you eventually. It’s only a matter of when.”

  “When you stop being delusional. Which will be never!”

  My fingers curling inward like claws, I yanked the lapels of my robe together, trying and failing not to notice how his tongue swiping across his lips made them glisten like an overly ripe cherry.

  “You don’t want me to stop. You’d be disappointed if I did.”

  “Ugh!” I shouted. “You never quit, do you?”

  “No, my stamina is as legendary as a certain part of me. You should believe all the talk.” His grin flattened and the crescents disappeared as he glanced around. “Where’s your bodyguard? He still away?”

  I nodded, a sudden pain slicing me in half at the reminder.

  One good thing about Diesel. He’d made me forget about Max’s absence, if only for a little while.

  “You two seem pretty cozy.” Diesel watched me with a predator’s gaze, waiting and testing my reaction for weaknesses he could exploit to his advantage. “You don’t give him grief like you give me. Why’s that exactly?”

  “What would you know about it?”

  “Heard Fanny and Ash talking. Saw photos of the two of you online. Know he was supposed to bring you to the party, but now I am.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter one way or the other to him, and I lost my focus, watching how the bunching of his bicep animated the ink of his wave tattoo. “Not cool of him to take advantage of you.”

  “He didn’t take advantage.” My eyes flashed. If anyone had taken advantage, it had been me of him. Was that why Max had left so abruptly without really explaining?

  “Seems I hit a nerve.”

  I expelled a breath. “It’s none of your business what I do or don’t do.”

  “You’re not sleeping with him.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Means I don’t have to kick his ass.”

  “I don’t understand you.” Exasperated, I shook my head.

  “I’ve laid it out. You know the score between me and you. What I want. W
hat you need. But you’re gonna get your fragile little heart busted if you think there’s something more between you and the redneck hulk besides the obvious.”

  “Obvious meaning—”

  “He wants to fuck you, same as I do. Only he’s less honest about it than I am. Once he’s had his taste, he’ll be gone.”

  “I hate you, Diesel. God, I hate you.”

  I turned my back to him. Unwise, but I had to do something to hide my emotions. He’d hit a nerve. A sensitive one.

  Conceding this round to him, although at least I’d gotten the last word, I headed for the sanctuary of my bedroom. The silk of my robe fluttered around my upper thighs.

  “Hollie.” Diesel caught me. His long fingers circling my upper arm, he turned me around.

  “Leave me alone.” Unbalanced by the gentleness of his tone and the unexpected lightness of his grip, the tears I’d withheld spilled.

  “Hey.” Wedging a finger under my ducked chin, he carefully lifted it as I tried and failed to still the trembling of my bottom lip. “Fuck me. I made you cry.”

  “I’m not crying.”

  “Must’ve gotten something in your eye then. Just now. Rogue Santa Ana dust or something.” There was teasing in his tone, and also a softening in his expression that seemed to imply he regretted the hurt he’d caused.

  I nodded.

  “Okay. If that’s the way you wanna play it.” His scrutiny intense, he let his statement hang while searching my gaze. “You’re a shit actress, you know. Your emotion is all there in your eyes.”

  “Thanks for the compliment. Not.” I swallowed to loosen the stricture in my throat.

  “I am who I am. Don’t ever expect me to sugarcoat reality like the bodyguard probably does.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “How is it that you seem to notice everything about Max, but note nothing about the other events in my life?” I was far from needing a wakeup call to reality.