Shore to Please

by Annette Mardis

  “How can you be so nice after the way he treated you?”

  “Because he’s your boss and you have to work with him. If you can’t forget what he did, fine. Just be polite and respectful even if you don’t feel that way, and he’ll be the one to blame if you two can’t get past this.”

  Flipper took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re a wise woman, you know that?”

  “Of course I am. I chose you, didn’t I?”

  “Thank God you did. I wish I didn’t have to be at work in less than an hour. I’d throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to bed.”

  “I never thought I’d find a caveman attitude so enticing, but it’s growing on me.”

  “Keep looking at me like that and something else will be growing.”

  He loved that he could make her blush so easily. Especially when he knew that beneath her starched exterior was a side of herself she revealed only to him. Each time they made love, this “wanton woman in the making,” as she jokingly called herself, came out to play. Her passion and eagerness to experiment with various positions matched his. Flipper considered himself to be a very lucky, and satisfied, man.

  “So what’s on your agenda today while I’m slaving away at work?”

  Tara sipped her orange juice before answering. “Kelsey and I are going to the mall. She loves to shop, and Jo abhors it. Shopping’s always more fun with a friend along, although I’m not so sure Kelsey’s bodyguard will think so.”

  “I’m glad you’re getting to know each other. Kelsey’s one of my favorite people. Jo, too, although I’ll deny it to my last breath if you repeat that.”

  “She told me you and Kelsey dated.”

  “She did? That’s…surprising that Jo opened up to you about something so personal. How in the world did that subject come up?”

  “It was the day she stopped to investigate my car in your driveway. We started talking about relationships and she mentioned how she and Kelsey overcame their obstacles.”

  “Ah, the ‘love conquers all’ speech.”

  “Yes. You’ve heard it?”

  “In one form or another.”

  “You don’t mind that she told me, do you?”

  “Not as long as you don’t care Kelsey and I were a couple.”

  “Why would I? It’s not like you still carry a torch for her. Right?” Her uncertainty touched him, making him determined to do everything he could to reassure her.

  Flipper waggled his eyebrows. “The only torch I’m carrying is the one I use to light your fire, baby.”

  Tara laughed, as he knew she would. She rose from her seat, her fluid movements graceful as always, and sat on his lap. He settled his hands on her hips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with enough enthusiasm to make him briefly consider calling in sick, something he rarely did.

  “I won’t be able to concentrate on work today if you keep that up,” Flipper said when they paused to catch their breath.

  “I’m just making sure I’m the only woman on your mind.”

  “You have no idea, do you?”

  “No idea of what?”

  “That you’re it for me. I love you, Tara. With all my heart.”

  “You…you do?”

  “I do. I hope I don’t scare you off by telling you that so soon, but why wait? I’ve found exactly what I’d always hoped existed.”

  Her smile chased away any lingering shadows. “Well, that’s a relief because I love you, too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  She nipped his bottom lip and slipped her tongue inside his mouth. She tasted like the mixed fruit she’d just eaten and smelled even sweeter, like vanilla, caramel, and cotton candy, of all things. After they’d showered together that morning, she’d sprayed a perfume called Sugar Mama on her breasts, behind her ears, and at the top of each thigh. He’d been so turned on he’d devoured her like a hot fudge sundae.

  Just the memory made him want to sweep the dishes onto the floor and take her right there on the table.

  “You’re killing me, baby, you know that?” He groaned when she wiggled in his lap.

  “At least you’ll die happy. Although I’ll need you to be very much alive for what I have planned for you tonight.”

  “Care to give me a sample?”

  “I thought you had to go to work?”

  “I do, but we’ve got”—he glanced at the acrylic dolphin clock on the wall—“fifteen minutes, give or take. Nowhere near enough time for everything I want to do with you, but I promise to make every minute count.”

  Tara pulled her T-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. “Then let’s not waste another second.”

  Chapter 28

  Glen’s Gun Shop looked just as Tara had imagined it would. Glass-front cases and open racks displayed row upon row of every type of firearm readily available in Florida. And accessories covered nearly every other sales space. Ammunition, targets, holsters, cleaning supplies, bags, eye and ear protection, scopes, locks, and safes. You name it, Glen’s had it or could special order it.

  She glanced over at Flipper and noted the glazed look in his eyes as his gaze roamed the room. Boys and their toys. Only these toys are intimidating and lethal. His bodyguards even sneaked peeks at the merchandise while scanning the store for potential threats.

  “We need to buy bullets and then rent you a pistol, goggles, and earmuffs,” the trainer told Tara, pointing to another part of the building.

  “I’m not all that interested in shooting. Can’t I just watch you and Jo?”

  “Sure, if that’s what you want. Nobody’s going to force you to pull the trigger.”

  “Good, because guns scare me. To be honest, I’m not thrilled about you keeping one at your house and carrying it around with you once your permit arrives in the mail.”

  “I wish I didn’t feel the need to have one, but getting threatened and then shot at makes a powerful argument in favor of it. And it’s one thing when mine is the only life at stake. But you could be in this sicko’s sights, too, and I’m not willing to take that risk.”

  “Flipper—”

  “Are you two planning to stand around jabber jawing all day, or are we going to burn powder?” Jo interrupted.

  Flipper pulled Tara close to his side and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Saved by the sourpuss.”

  “What did you just call me?”

  He ignored his friend’s sputtering, wrapped his other arm around Tara, and walked both women forward.

  “C’mon, ladies, it’s time to pump lead, punch paper, bust caps, swing hammers—”

  “We get it, Dead-Eye Dick Brain. And people wonder why I’m a lesbian.”

  Tara barked out a laugh and then clapped her hand over her mouth when Flipper shot her a “you, too?” expression.

  “On second thought, maybe hanging around Thelma and Louise isn’t such a good idea,” he told Tara.

  Jo bared her teeth in imitation of a smile. “Too late, Fish Breath, we’ve already corrupted her. Speaking of which, how’d you like the Victoria’s Secret stuff she brought home the other day? I took one look at Kelsey in the panties she bought and—”

  “Hey, let’s hit the range. I’m ready to fill some targets full of holes.” He hustled Tara out of the showroom before Jo could utter another word.

  They entered a large, brightly lit area with targets suspended from the ceiling and a row of two-sided booths with shelves across the front. Flipper set up in number five with Jo right next to him while the bodyguards stood behind them.

  “All of the lanes have an automatic retrieval system out to fifty feet,” she told Tara, who tried to appear impressed despite having no idea what that meant. “Glen’s a retired cop and really caters to law enforcement. He gives us a great discount.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Tara replied, not knowing what else to say. “I can see why you like coming here.”

  Flipper loaded his weapon and settled in
to a shooting stance. “Watch this, baby.” He squeezed off five shots and then pushed a button to bring the target close for his inspection. “Check it out! Two hits to the chest.”

  Jo peeked around the lane divider. “What happened to the other three?”

  “My aim was a little off.”

  “A little? Damn, my grandmother could shoot better than that and she can’t even read the top letter on an eye chart unless it’s a foot from her face.”

  “You’re a regular Joan Rivers, you know that, Jo? You should quit the force and take your comedy act on the road.”

  “I loved Joan Rivers. What a loss.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’d rather not tell you when you have a gun in your hand.”

  Jo placed her unloaded weapon on the shelf of her shooting stall and watched Flipper do the same.

  “Okay, smart guy, you were saying?”

  Tara broke in before he could answer. “I hate to break up your verbal jousting—”

  “Verbal jousting?” Jo teased. “Who even says that?”

  “I do.” Tara lowered her voice to a whisper. “While you two have been playing Abbott and Costello, that man over there has been staring at us and making no secret of his disdain. I’ve seen him before but can’t place him.”

  Jo and Flipper swiveled their heads in the direction Tara indicated with her eyes.

  Jo frowned. “That’s Higgins. Officer Stan Higgins. He’s the one the lieutenant reprimanded for his unprofessional conduct at your picket site, Tara, and then he ignored you at the front desk when you came by the station. He’s still pissed because I complained to his sergeant about that. He got caught doing some other stuff he shouldn’t have and ended up with a weeklong suspension without pay.”

  Jo raised her voice when Higgins continued to sneer at them. “He’s lucky he still has a job. And it’s no wonder his wife’s divorcing him.”

  He shot her a bird and then, leering at Tara, licked his lips and cupped his crotch.

  “Son of a bitch,” Flipper growled and started in Higgins’ direction. Maurice the bodyguard grabbed Flipper’s arm and jerked him back when he tried to pull away.

  “Down, boy. He’s not worth it,” Jo advised.

  “Someone needs to knock the smarmy look right off that smug bastard’s face.”

  “And that’s just what he wants, for you to confront him so he can say you threw the first punch. Use your head, O’Riley. The last thing you need right now is to end up in the back of a squad car.”

  “Who’s going to arrest me? You?”

  “Not if I can help it. Now settle down before you get us both in trouble.”

  When Flipper glared at him again, Higgins held his thumb and pointer finger like a gun and pretended to fire at them. Flipper’s face contorted and he lunged forward again as Higgins laughed and walked past their shooting lanes. This time, both bodyguards had to hold Flipper back.

  “Don’t dignify that swine’s actions with a response,” Tara pleaded. “Let it go, for your sake and mine. Please.”

  Jo gave Flipper a straight-arm when it appeared he wasn’t quite ready to calm down.

  “Listen to your lady. She’s much smarter than you are.”

  His gaze slid over to Tara and his expression calmed and warmed. “I’m fine now. Let me go,” he instructed the beefy pair who held him. When they turned him loose, Flipper opened his arms and Tara fell into them. As they stood there molded together, she felt the tension ebb from his body. She blocked out everything except how comforting, how right it felt to be so close to him.

  This is where I belong. This is who I’m meant to be with. The embrace might’ve led to a soul-searing kiss if Jo’s voice hadn’t intruded.

  “Hey Brad, unhand Angelina and watch a real marksman at work. You might learn something.”

  He kissed the tip of Tara’s nose and smiled at Jo. “Tell you what, detective. You put three in the head and two in the heart and I’ll buy lunch.”

  “You’re on.”

  “One other thing: Your department needs to keep tabs on that Higgins jackass. He acts like he’s got a screw loose.”

  “Yes, he does. I guess I need to have another chat with his sergeant.”

  “You’re not so bad, Tompkins, no matter what people say.”

  Jo gave Flipper a playful shove. “Keep that to yourself, will you? I’ve got an image to maintain.”

  Then she smiled, loaded her gun, and proceeded to show Flipper and everyone else at the range how to tag a target.

  *

  After they’d shot a few more rounds, Jo excused herself on the pretense of going to the ladies’ room. She spotted Higgins at a display counter, examining the guns locked inside, and sidled up beside him.

  “Shopping for anything in particular?” she asked.

  He gave a slight turn of his head, and his expression, which had been intent, went blank.

  “What do you want, Tompkins? I’m not on duty, so go hassle some poor slob who’s spineless enough to let you intimidate him.”

  “My my, what a big persecution complex you have.”

  “All the better to see right through you, detective.” He spat out the last word as though it tasted rotten, reminding Jo of the source of his resentment.

  “Are you ever going to man up and get over it?”

  His lip curled. “Get over what?”

  “The fact I made detective and you didn’t.”

  A flash of anger crossed his face before his features turned impassive again.

  “We all know why they picked you, and don’t try to deny it.”

  “I don’t have to deny it,” Jo retorted. “I’m more qualified than you, in every possible way. But if you need to boost your sagging ego by thinking my gender was the deciding factor, you go right ahead. Makes no difference to me. What does rile me is when some wiseass threatens or acts disrespectful to my friends.”

  “That animal rights bitch is your friend? You should be running her out of town, not defending her. And I didn’t threaten anyone.”

  “What was that bit with the imaginary gun?”

  “Just having fun.”

  “Riding the Cheetah Hunt at Busch Gardens is fun. Now, what gives?”

  “Your dolphin trainer pal should change his nickname from Flipper to Judas, that’s all.”

  Jo wanted to shake Higgins until his eyeballs popped out of their sockets. “Care to elaborate?”

  “No. I’ve said all I’m going to say. Now leave me alone before I tell your supervisor you’ve been harassing me for no reason. In fact, maybe I’ll tell him you’re getting cozy with a suspect.”

  “A suspect? You mean Tara?” The look on his face confirmed it. “She’s not a suspect.”

  “Are you sure? Think about it. She has motive and opportunity.”

  “See, this is why you didn’t make detective, Higgins. You have no idea how to read people. Smarten up or the only job you’ll be qualified for will be as a crossing guard.”

  His face reddened and a vein in his forehead stuck out. For a moment, Jo thought he might slug her. Then, without another word, he spun on his heel and stomped off toward the exit.

  Chapter 29

  Tara hadn’t been in the same room with Larry Clybourne since he’d shown up at her condo that day, and she almost didn’t recognize him now with stage makeup covering his freshly shaven face. His gelled hairstyle, slick and sophisticated like Leonardo DiCaprio’s, topped a tightly knotted silk tie, celery green with sky blue stripes, worn with a button-down white dress shirt and navy suit. His black oxfords were shiny enough to reflect the blinding stage lights. She’d never seen him without beard stubble and bed head and clad in anything but frayed jeans, faded T-shirts, and dirty, battered shoes with the backs broken down because he couldn’t be bothered to slip them on all the way.

  He’d gone from fashion disaster to consummate talking head, and the transformation looked too calculated t
o have happened without professional help.

  Larry flashed her a dazzling smile, and his teeth were so white they didn’t look real. Who was this guy? Tara glanced down at her conservative dove-gray suit and wondered whether she’d erred in choosing it for this occasion.

  “Nervous?” a voice behind her asked. Helen offered a bolstering smile when Tara turned. “You’ll be great. And you look lovely, by the way.”

  “Thank you. But do you think this suit makes me appear bland?”

  “Bland? With that hair cascading down your back like liquid fire? And that emerald blouse that makes your eyes pop? I can see why Flipper’s so taken with you.”

  Tara shifted, uneasy with such praise. She concentrated on projecting a calm, confident, gracious demeanor. The words “fake it till you make it” crossed her mind.

  “That’s very kind of you to say, Helen. And you make the prettiest picture yourself. Cobalt blue is your color.”

  “Thanks. Oh geez, what now? The director’s waving at me like a flag left out in a category four hurricane. Damn, I wish I hadn’t chugged that bottle of water. I’ll be crossing my legs and praying halfway through the show. I can see the reviews now. ‘Debate moderator wets herself in TV debut.’ Oh God, I’m terrified. Can you tell?”

  Tara put a steadying hand on Helen’s arm. “Take a deep breath before you pass out. That’s it. In and out. In and out. You’re going to be brilliant.”

  “I will, won’t I? Okay, see you out there.”

  As Tara watched the reporter walk away, Larry sauntered over and smirked.

  “Trying to make nice so she goes easy on you once the red light comes on?”

  “I don’t need to,” Tara replied with feigned bravado. “I’m ready for whatever she, or anyone else, throws at me.”

  “Are you really? Because when I get done with you, the word ‘eviscerate’ won’t be a sufficient description.”

  “You’ll have to do better than that if you expect to rattle me.” Sweat dripped down her back despite the fact the studio had seemed cold enough to house penguins when she’d arrived.

  “We’ll see who’s still talking trash after the credits roll.” With that, he swaggered toward his spot on the dais.