In Dark Water (Rarity Cove Book 3)

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In Dark Water (Rarity Cove Book 3) Page 24

by Leslie Tentler


  Quinn looked down at Lily, who tugged at her mother’s hand. “I’m only here now because of this little one. She couldn’t wait any longer.” Quinn laid her free hand on the rounded mound of her belly. “Not to mention, I’m starving as usual these days. Let’s eat first, Lily, and then we’ll have the artist paint a seashell on your face.”

  “There’re some vegetarian choices on the buffet, too,” Mark pointed out.

  Quinn smiled at him. As she led Lily off toward the food, Samantha beckoned to Mark from the edge of the temporary dance floor that had been set up in front of the band. The musicians had taken a break from the lively beach music and were playing a slow, familiar tune. Samantha appeared beautiful, her long, dark hair lifting in the breeze.

  “Go dance with your wife,” Mercer said to Mark.

  Briefly clasping her shoulder, he walked off. Mercer watched, wistful, as they went onto the dance floor hand in hand. They swayed together, Samantha’s head on Mark’s shoulder and his arms wrapped low around her back. Despite the pang inside her, Mercer was happy for them. They appeared still as in love with one another as ever. Carter and Quinn, as well.

  “Ms. Leighton?”

  Mercer turned. Kerry Bristol, a young African-American woman who Mark had just hired in a management training position at the hotel, stood in the sand. She was also working tonight’s event, helping the cook and wait staff since the oyster roasts were typically all-hands-on-deck occasions.

  “Hi, Kerry. And it’s Mercer,” she reminded with a smile.

  Kerry nodded before pointing back to the boardwalk. “Someone is looking for you.”

  The shadow that had been across Mercer’s heart for the last week lifted as she saw Noah among the couples and families who were making their way down the ramp onto the sand.

  “Will you take this back to the hotel for me, please?” she asked and handed the iPad to Kerry.

  Noah walked toward her. Mercer met him halfway, surprise as well as hope bubbling inside her. They had exchanged several texts, but she hadn’t seen him since obeying his wishes and leaving him in his apartment to deal with his demons alone. Since then, her mind had been running circles, trying to figure out where they stood. Trying not to feel hurt that he had more or less shut her out. In the space of time since she had seen him, she had been summoned to the police precinct in downtown Charleston. But Detective Bobby Durand had interviewed her. The detective had told her that Noah had taken a few days off.

  “So, I figured I’d crash the oyster roast.” Reaching her, his gaze held uncertainty. He was dressed casually in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that advertised a Charleston microbrewery. Like most everyone else, his feet were bare, his shoes no doubt left behind on the boardwalk above them. “Is that okay?”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Mercer drank in the sight of him—his thick, raven hair that lifted in the ocean breeze, his fit, athletic frame, his sexily stubbled jaw and intelligent eyes the color of amber. He wore no shield tonight, nor was a weapon visible. “Have you eaten? We can fix you a plate and I’ll introduce you around.”

  The live music nearly drowned out the ocean’s roar. Noah looked off to the throngs of people crowded within the halo of paper lanterns. “I was thinking maybe we could go for a walk first?”

  Mercer nodded her agreement and they walked southward away from the hotel, leaving the noise of the celebration behind. Here, waves crashed onto the shore. Making small talk, they walked past a compact fire with teenagers sitting around it. They had nearly reached the pier when Noah stopped, seashells and seaweed dotting the wet sand and cool, foamy surf ebbing and flowing at their feet. Here they were completely alone in a blanket of darkness save for the twinkling stars overhead.

  “I should start by saying again that I’m sorry,” Noah said.

  Mercer tucked several long strands of windswept hair behind her ear as she waited for him to continue.

  “I’m sorry for being so closed off these past few days.” He stared onto the water. “They say that when someone has a traumatic event in their past like I do, it can make it hard for them to have a relationship. I…want you to know that I took your advice. I started seeing a therapist again. I think maybe my PTSD isn’t as dormant as I thought.”

  Remaining silent, Mercer touched his arm.

  “I also went to see my father this week. He lives in Tennessee. Corinne doesn’t know, but I’ve known where he is for a while.”

  Her eyebrows drew together in concern. “How’d it go?”

  He sighed in resignation. “I won’t be seeing him again. But there were some things I needed to say. To get off my chest. I have closure now, at least.”

  Turning to her, he took her hands in his.

  “I did a lot of thinking while I was on the road. And I also want you to know that you’re right about something.” Briefly bowing his head, he swallowed before looking at her. “I do deserve a chance to be happy. You make me happy, Mercer. If you’re still willing, I’d like to see if we can find a way to try to make this work.”

  Mercer’s heart sang out as she smiled softly up at him. As he drew her against him, her fingers threaded through the soft hair at his nape, her body pressed to his. He lowered his head and kissed her, his lips making her nearly dizzy with desire as she clung to him. Then, looking into her eyes, he buried his hands into her wind-whipped hair. His thumb stroked gently over her cheekbone.

  “I haven’t tried in a relationship in a long time,” Noah rasped. “But I want this. I want you. I’m not the easiest person to live with at times. My job demands a lot from me. Sometimes I think maybe too much.” He looked back to where they had been. Past the sand dunes with their swaying sea oats, the St. Clair stood majestically in the distance, lit from the ground up so that it glowed in the night. “And I’ll admit to being a little intimidated by the St. Clair name.”

  “I don’t believe that. You’re not intimidated by anything, Noah.” Mercer ran her hands over his hard chest, her mind reliving the velvet warmth of his kiss. “Besides, you shouldn’t be.”

  As she looked up at him, her heart constricted. “All I know is that I want for us to try, too. After Jonathan, I…never thought that I could feel this way about someone again.”

  She raised her face to meet his kiss as his hands slid down her sides before settling at her waist.

  “I respect who you are,” he murmured, his head bent close to hers. “And I don’t mean being a St. Clair. I mean being the woman you are. And that you had a past before me.” His hands stroked over her hair. “I also think that I should get you back to the party before I end up laying you down on the sand and taking you right here on the beach.”

  The corners of her mouth lifted, and she touched his face. “Imagine Detective Ford getting arrested for lewd acts in public.”

  “That’d get things off to a good start with your family,” he said wryly. His fingers reached for hers as they began walking back toward the hotel. “What if they don’t approve of us?”

  “I came out about my relationship with Jonathan at one of these oyster roasts years ago. If they could handle me with my middle-aged college professor, they probably won’t blink twice at an alpha-male police detective.” Although her tone was light, she was aware of a sweet ache inside her. She thought of the dream she had had at the cabin, the one where Jonathan had waved goodbye to her on the beach. Her throat tightened, but she squeezed Noah’s fingers. “I know that all they want is for me to be happy.”

  Stopping, she buried her face against Noah’s neck once more and clung to him. His arms closed around her. He was solid and strong.

  “You okay?” His fingers gently lifted her face up to his.

  She smiled. “I am now. I’m just so glad you’re here.”

  He took her hand again. They left two sets of footprints in the wet sand as they walked back to the sounds of beach music and laughter.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  “I’ve been meaning to ask
if you’ve reached a decision.”

  At Carter’s question, Noah took a pensive sip of his beer. They stood on the deck of Carter’s gated beach house on the north side of town, the plane of gray-green ocean stretched out in front of them. It was a warm, sunny Saturday in May and he and Mercer had been invited over for an early dinner, although Noah suspected the real reason for it. He listened to the crash of waves as they swept ashore below. “It’s a big decision. I’ve been a cop for over a decade.”

  Carter nodded thoughtfully. “But you’ve said yourself that a change might do you good.”

  The French doors that led inside the elegant home had been left open, and an infant’s fragile cry could be heard. The meal over, Mercer and Quinn had taken Lily and the new baby—a girl named Daphne, just two months old—inside. Noah looked over at Carter, who appeared airbrushed perfect as usual in a polo shirt and cargo shorts. Over the past six months, Noah had gotten to know the entire St. Clair family.

  Carter sat his beer on the deck’s railing. “Just so you know, Mercer isn’t the reason we made the offer. We’re offering it because you’re the right person for the job.”

  The offer, if Noah accepted it, would be life-changing. The nonprofit fitness complex that was specially equipped for disabled military veterans in Charleston was seeking a new executive director. Noah had been told the position was his if he wanted it.

  “There must be better fits for the job than me,” he rationalized. “I don’t have a background in nonprofits or administration. My degree is in criminal justice.”

  As seagulls squawked in the air above them, Carter placed a hand on Noah’s shoulder as if to alleviate any doubts.

  “We’re going outside the box on this. You have the background we want,” Carter assured him. “You’re a decorated vet yourself. You understand these men like no one else. Your military background and life experience will benefit the center more than any guy in a suit with a master’s degree. Our staff and board include financial experts and others who can give you whatever guidance you need.” He looked at Noah over the top of his sunglasses. “You blew away the board in the interviews, Noah. They’d be interested in you even without my family’s recommendation. The Charleston facility is our flagship center and we need a real leader for it. They believe that’s you. If your hesitation is about the money—”

  “You know it isn’t.” Although the center was nonprofit, the directorship still paid more than what the average detective made. He would be swapping out his pension for a 401K, but the hours and the environment would also be much more conducive to a better quality of life, something Noah had come to realize that he wanted more and more. Through the home’s open doors, he could see Mercer as she paced with the baby in her arms, rocking her and trying to settle her down.

  “Look. You know I’m not above guilt-tripping you.” Carter watched Mercer, too. “Being a cop is a dangerous occupation. I hope I’m not overstepping, but I’m pretty sure you have someone else to think of now.”

  Noah merely pressed his lips together. It was hard not to tell him more.

  “Have you spoken to Mercer about this?” Carter asked.

  “She’s excited by the opportunity, but she says it’s completely up to me.” Noah had also talked to Corinne as well as Tyson, the latter of whom had given Noah his blessing even though it would mean an end to their partnership. Ty had called it a golden opportunity, in fact. He had made a full recovery following the shooting, and he and Lanny had used the insurance money from the cabin to buy a larger home in a better school district for their girls.

  The thought of working with men who had been disabled in military service was something that very much appealed to Noah. The Charleston complex had also expanded to offer mental health and family counseling, as well as job placement services. If the center could give back those men’s self-worth in some way, help them make the most of the lives they had—well, it felt like he would be paying it forward.

  I deserve a chance to be happy.

  Noah recalled what he had said to Mercer not all that long ago. And she had made him happier than he had ever been in his life. He knew that she was happy, too, but he also wanted to give her more. Carter was right. Police work wasn’t only demanding; it could be dangerous and Mercer needed someone who she knew would be coming home to her every night. She had already been a widow once. He watched her as she placed a kiss on the baby’s crown.

  He wanted to give her that, too. The family he knew she desired.

  Noah blew out a soft breath. As many reasons as his mind came up with for saying no, in his heart he wanted to say yes.

  Maybe this was just all the pieces finally fitting into place.

  “What the hell. I’m on board.”

  At Noah’s announcement, Carter smiled broadly and the two men shook hands.

  “You won’t regret this, Noah,” Carter said. “Hey, how about we ditch these beers and move to some celebratory champagne? Let’s share the news. Quinn will have sparkling water because of the baby but Mercer can join us. And don’t worry about driving. You two can stay here or we’ll send for the hotel limo to take you back to the St. Clair.”

  Noah and Mercer hadn’t officially moved in together, mostly because of logistics. Being a detective in Charleston required him to regularly be on-call at all hours of the day and night, and Mercer was working full-time at the St. Clair. But they often spent the night at one another’s places. They had been taking it slow, partly to give Mercer time to adjust to being in a relationship again after Jonathan, but also because until recently, Noah had been in therapy. He had wanted to address any lingering trauma from his past and be able to drop the barriers that he had kept around himself for so long.

  “Do you think maybe we can take a raincheck on that celebration?” Noah asked. “I sort of have something special planned for Mercer tonight.”

  Carter bobbed his head. “Sure. I’ll let the board know of your decision.”

  A short time later, Noah opened the passenger door to his Ford Explorer and helped Mercer climb inside.

  “I can’t believe you’re taking the job,” she marveled once Noah entered on the driver’s side. “I really didn’t think you would.”

  He fastened his seatbelt and started the engine. In truth, once he had accepted the offer aloud, he had felt no regret, only excitement. “It wasn’t a snap decision. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and today just seemed like the day for big things.”

  “Won’t leaving the force be hard?”

  “I’ll miss working with Ty, but I won’t miss the violence and dealing with the worst of mankind. Besides, I think maybe it’s time for me to shake things up a little.”

  “What made you finally decide to pull the trigger?” Mercer smiled. “No pun intended.”

  He turned to her as they waited for the property’s electronic gate to open so they could exit. “You.”

  Her lips parted as he tenderly cupped the side of her face.

  “And me,” he said, then changed the subject as he sat back again and they pulled onto the road. “Do you mind if we take a detour before we head to Charleston? There’s something I’ve been planning to show you.”

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful,” Mercer said honestly as she took in the gracious, Lowcountry-style home that stood in front of them. “So, I’m finally getting to see your secret renovation project.”

  Leaning against the SUV’s front, Noah stared up at the house, too. “It’s close to a century old, but it has what you’d call good bones. I know it’s pretty small by St. Clair standards, but I think it has a lot of charm.”

  The home’s exterior appeared pristine, with a fresh coat of white paint and dormers that projected from a sloping, seam-metal roof, indicating a second floor. The main floor had generous windows and a deep, covered porch that appeared to be made from new wood. Mercer could imagine family and friends gathering at such a welcoming spot. The yard itself was a mixture of grass and sand co
mmon to homes not far off the water. But this house wasn’t on the beach. Instead, a grassy marsh spread out behind the property. A chorus of bullfrogs croaked from the languid water.

  Mercer shook her head in awe, the setting sun warm on her shoulders. “I don’t know what this place looked like before, but you and Steve are going to make a killing flipping it.”

  “It’s sold already, actually. Before our renovation work was even completed.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “It’s only about a mile from the beach.” Noah pointed eastward to some trees. “There’s a bike and jogging trail that runs through there that leads to it. It might not seem like it from here, but there’re neighbors nearby. The lots are large, so between that and the marsh, there’s privacy. A lot of the homes around here are being renovated. It’s an up and coming area that’s about to go up in price. C’mon. I want to show you what we’ve done on the inside.”

  They went onto the porch together and Noah opened the beveled-glass door using a key. Entering, Mercer looked around the great room with its high, coffered ceiling and white-painted brick fireplace. Despite the home’s age, the interior had been updated so that the living area opened into an airy, modern kitchen. A wide, wood staircase with a carved banister went up to the second floor.

  “The hardwood flooring’s original to the house. I did the refinishing myself,” Noah said, pride in his voice. “It’s made of cypress wood taken right from the land. We also had to knock some walls out to get a more open look.” He placed his hand on a column. “These are load bearing, so they’re here to stay.”

  Mercer nodded. “I like them.”

  “New pipes, new electrical wiring. The bathrooms are completely redone, too.” He followed her into the kitchen that was replete with glass-fronted cabinets, a farmhouse-style sink, and stainless steel appliances. Mercer ran her finger along the handsome granite counters, her eyes drawn to a large window in the breakfast area that provided a stunning view of the marsh. She watched, transfixed, as a heron in flight came to a landing, making a splash in the midst of oat grasses and reeds.

 

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