Allie averted her eyes. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. At least Spook would be a topic of conversation, but as usual, he was nowhere in sight. “Where is he?”
“Who?” Rand seemed almost back in control.
Allie envied him. “Spook. My dog.”
“I saw him run behind the couch when I came in. Not much of a watchdog, is he?”
Allie stiffened. “He was abused. He can’t help it.”
Rand grinned. “I wasn’t criticizing your pup, Allie. Not all dogs are watchdogs. It doesn’t make them any less lovable.”
“Do you like dogs?” It stunned her that she was ready to jump in bed with the man, but didn’t know the answer to this question. Suddenly, it was important to her that he did.
He shrugged. “I never had one when I was growing up, of course. No pets allowed at a military academy.”
Allie winced. Rand’s father, Sheriff Cord Arbutten, had put Rand in a military school when he was twelve and threatening to turn into a juvenile delinquent. It had almost destroyed their relationship permanently, but it turned Rand around. Witness an honest attorney. What could be more rare?
“But we always had a few strays around campus,” he said. “We fed them and played with them. So, yeah, I like dogs—a lot.”
Allie felt a smile split her face. “Good.” She wasn’t raised around animals, either. Her mother maintained they were filthy beasts with fleas and who knew what else crawling all over them. Allie knew that Spook was clean, and she’d never seen so much as a black speck on him. “Me too. Now.”
After that, she couldn’t think of a thing to say. Rand stood there staring at her. She began to regret that she’d worn the nearly transparent blouse.
Finally, he spoke. “Would you like to go for a walk on the beach?”
She couldn’t believe it. That was supposed to be her line.
***
Rand held her hand as they descended the wooden steps to the beach. Her backyard—the Atlantic Ocean in all its glory. He kicked off his shoes at the bottom of the stairs and draped an arm loosely across her shoulders. She put her arm around his waist as if they’d been doing this for years. The beach was almost deserted, compliments of winter and the early hour. The sun worshipers were still donning their bikinis, and the snowbirds usually slept late.
Winter or not, the sand felt sun-hot under their bare feet, the water warmer than the air. They said little. The moment was too pure to sully it with words. The slap and hiss of the waves set their leisurely pace, and Allie knew she’d never been happier.
When they reached the Cape Canaveral jetty, they turned and retraced their path, footprint into sandy footprint. Theirs were the only tracks, but that would change soon. The condos springing up on either side of her tiny house would soon be completed. Then, an extra few hundred or so people would share her little stretch of paradise. She didn’t know how she would bear to sell her aunt’s house, but…
“I’ve told you before, Allie. Sell the thing.”
Her Aunt Lou had been dead for almost a year, but they had these conversations in Allie’s head. They began when she returned to Cape Canaveral, and at first, Allie believed it was her imagination, a product of desperately wanting a little more time with Lou. But enough things had happened that she was now convinced they communicated. Their talks were infrequent and brief, but they gave Allie a measure of comfort.
“Honey, it’s only a house.”
“It’s not only a house; it’s your house. It’s all I have left.”
“That’s not true. You have our memories, a lifetime of memories. I left them in trust for you. Those are what count, Allie. Not things.”
“God, I miss you.”
“Who?”
Allie blinked. Had she spoken aloud? She almost didn’t answer. Rand once thought her aunt had caused the breakup of his parents. He knew better now, but was he ready to hear about Allie’s ghost? She’d mentioned these talks with her aunt once to Marc Frederick, her former boyfriend who lived in Miami. Marc had humored her and dismissed what she said. Allie never mentioned it to him or anyone else again.
“My aunt,” she offered. Let him ask if he wanted to know more.
He did. “Tell me about her. I know you worshipped her.”
Allie leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’re right. I did.”
He took her hand, and she squeezed his fingers.
“She was so inherently kind and wise. With a family like mine, that meant a lot to me. She was honest almost to a fault. She lived her life her way and didn’t care what others thought.” Allie shook her head. “That’s not true. She did care, but she didn’t let it make her crazy.”
He stopped. “Like you do?”
She lifted her chin. Then, she chanced a peek at him and saw his lips twitch. She smiled.
They continued to walk. “I talk to her sometimes.” She waited for his derision.
“You mean have actual conversations?”
“Yes.”
“What do you talk about?”
Allie looked up to see if he was humoring her, but all she saw was curiosity and decided to take a chance. “It’s never the same thing twice. Just now, we were talking about my selling the house.”
Rand stopped in his tracks. “You mean right now? Just a second ago while we were talking?”
Allie laughed. “Not while we were talking. While we were walking and not talking. She thinks I should sell the house.”
“You mean the house you’re living in now?”
Allie nodded.
“Why?”
“Because of all the condos springing up on the beach. It’s not going to be the same.”
He walked along for a moment in silence. “She’s right, you know.”
“I know she’s right, but it’s hard. It’s something of hers. I don’t have much left.”
Rand pulled her close and tightened his grip. “Of course, you do. You have the memories of all the years you spent with her. Those are what count.”
Allie smiled. Great minds.
Rand leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. “You’re wonderful, you know?”
Allie put her arms around his waist. “Why do you say that?”
“A million different reasons. You’re beautiful.”
“You think so?”
He pulled her closer. “Stop fishing. You know damn well I think so.” He stroked her back. “You’re determined. I love that. And…” His lips came down on hers hard. Allie went lightheaded. She clutched him tightly to stay on her feet.
Wolf whistles from above caused them to jump apart. Allie squinted up into the sun and saw workers hanging off a half-completed building. Some were waived their hands or caps. Others seemed to be making gestures of some kind. Her face burned.
Paradise, indeed. “Let’s go,” she said, taking Rand’s hand.
Back at the house, they brushed the sand off their feet as best they could and let themselves in the back door. Allie started toward the kitchen and the wine, but Rand took her shoulder and turned her around.
Allie caught her breath at the intensity in his eyes. He rested his hands gently on her shoulders. “I don’t quite know how to say this, but…” He stared at some spot over her head, and then looked back at her. “Allie, I’ve never known a woman who appealed to me the way you do. It’s not just your physical beauty. I mean, hell, there’s plenty of that, but you’re so much more. I don’t know how to say it.”
Allie smiled up at him. “You’re doing fine.”
His face remained serious. “You’re so much of what you describe about your aunt. You’re inherently kind. I watched you back when you were trying to prove my father didn’t commit murder. You’re fair and honest, even when it’s hard. You work to protect others, even if it means putting yourself at risk.”
He was talking about the last summer when Rand’s mother had committed suicide. Rand had been convinced his father killed her, and Allie had almost lost her life trying to prove
differently.
“I know you were married before, and you want to take this slow and easy, but—oh, hell.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Just say it.” The words came out breathless.
“I—I think I’m in love with you. I know it’s too soon. I don’t mean to pressure you—”
Allie beamed up at him through moist eyes. “I can take the pressure. Oh, Rand…” was all she managed before his lips came down on hers.
Allie fell against him. When the kiss finally ended, she said, “You really know how to sweep a girl—”
They both froze at a knock on the door. Rand looked at her with raised eyebrows, and she shook her head. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and that was an understatement. She considered ignoring it, but whoever had decided to invade her privacy wasn’t going away. Another knock—harder this time.
Pulling away from Rand, Allie yanked open the door—and gasped.
About the Author
Lynda Fitzgerald is a critically acclaimed author, teacher and frequent speaker at writers’ conference and workshops
Although Lynda was born and spent much of her life in central Florida dangling her toes in the Atlantic, she now lives outside Atlanta, GA, with her bevy of good-sized rescue dogs, mainly German Shepherds.
Check out her website, http://www.fitzgeraldwrites.com, for more about Lynda and her books, excerpts from each, and some beautiful pictures of the area where her books are set.
LIVE Ammo (Sunshine State Mystery Series Book 2) Page 25