by Aimee Laine
A quick step to her dresser revealed the same.
“Em!” Lexi pitched her voice up.
“What?”
Lexi twisted a lock of her hair. “Did you, maybe, already take it? Blue with a star-looking center? I’m certain it’s only cosmetic, but it was pretty.” She rifled through the rest of the drawers. My dress. She lifted the pile of sodden silk and shook it, but only sand cascaded to the floor.
“What’s going on?” Emma asked from the doorway.
Lexi’s hands slapped against her thighs. “I can’t find it.”
“What do you mean?” Emma’s eyes widened. “How’s that possible?” She rummaged through the open drawers as if a second pass would cause the necklace to appear by magic. “You never lose stuff, Lex. It’s just not possible. How did this happen?”
Lexi dropped to the edge of her bed. “I have no idea.”
2
Tripp Fox pocketed the pendant as the coffee shop server approached with his iced mocha frappe—the only coffee he’d touch. Even as the summer season crawled to a close, the chime over the door dinged with each entrance or exit of a patron.
“Can I get you anything else, sir?” The wide-eyed twenty-something in a bright green apron waited with a smile.
“No, thank you.” He grinned to himself, though she must have misread the expression as hers grew flirty before she walked away.
He withdrew the pendant again, a bright blue he couldn’t name, set in silver or platinum, he didn’t know—none of which mattered. The woman he found on the beach intrigued him far more than the gem. From her curls and full lips to her dark eyes, she grabbed him in a way no other had. She’d smelled flowery, but he couldn’t put a name to the scent. Fresh, he would say if someone asked.
The froth of his drink hit his lips as a steady stream of beach goers, shoppers and little kids tugging on their parents’ arms passed outside the coffee shop window. He chuckled at the craziness of families on vacation.
“Reminiscing or fantasizing?” Long-time friend and business partner, Ian Sands, straddled the seat opposite Tripp, his green eyes brilliant with bemused curiosity.
“Observing and thinking.”
“Coffee shops are better than bars, or so I hear.” Ian signaled to the waitress, pointing with two fingers to Tripp’s cup. “What’s that?”
“Some girlie drink Jill suggested. It’s actually good.”
Ian leaned back in his chair. “So you’re really going to marry the—I mean Jill?”
Tripp chuckled. “Why not?” Jill thought she snagged him. He let her believe whatever she wanted, but no one would capture him with any permanence—not the law and not a woman.
“You’re one lucky bastard, you know that? You’ve had good, bad, ugly and gorgeous. I just wouldn’t have thought she was your … um … type.” Ian turned to the window.
“Don’t the experts say men live longer when they’re married?” Tripp held up his iced coffee as if to clink glasses.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” Ian shook his head, facing toward Tripp again. “You can even cheat and—”
“No.” Tripp’s tone bordered on dangerous. “Faithful I will be … once I choose that route … if I ever do.” He scrubbed a hand over his head, wishing for a moment that he’d shaved his head the way Ian did.
“Then you’re an idiot—especially with your … uh … abilities.” He marked his words when the server returned with the drink. She offered Ian the same smile she gave Tripp. “I think she likes me.” Ian grinned as she walked away.
“It’s her job to like everyone.” He leaned toward Ian, laughter in his smile. “So, what’s our next adventure?”
“Do you have to stay clean, or can we get dirty?” Ian’s eyes strayed to the crowds.
“Clean, Ian. We agreed. There is a hazy line between stealing and retrieving. Let’s stick to the more … angelic side.”
“Dammit. See?” Ian sighed, slapping a hand on the table. “I’m not angelic. And I’m sick of this small time shit we’re pulling. I want us back where the action is. Let’s take a couple of jobs big enough to get the old heart racing.” He thumped a fist against his chest. “You know? Something that requires beer afterward, not … coffee.” He set the cup on the table top. “Why’d I have to be nice to you twenty-three years ago if you’re going to take away all my fun now … when I’m in my prime?”
“As I recall, when we stood in front of that convenience store manager, I saved your ass. I still don’t get why you were stealing that chocolate bar anyway. You were supposed to be the ‘good kid’.”
Ian snorted, tipping his drink up. “And that’s exactly my point about your rich-daddy woman. You aren’t the good kid. So, don’t go there. Thirty-three isn’t old, you know. Plenty of time, plenty of other … plenty of … oh, fuck it.” He waved as if Tripp should run out and hang himself with the wedded-bliss knot. “If she’s a good lay, then by all means. You’re going to do whatever you want anyway. You always do.”
Tripp turned his attention toward the crowded sidewalk.
“What’s goin’ on in that mind of yours today? Please tell me you’re finally having second thoughts about that woman.”
“I never really had the thought in the first place.” Jill proposed to him. When he didn’t answer, she took it as a yes and plans shot off at a pace he didn’t expect. “It’s just the easy route.”
Tripp pulled out the pendant. It sparkled with the window’s light as he laid it on the table. “Can you find out about this?”
“Thought you wanted the simple way.” A gleam took hold of Ian’s gaze. “Looks costume to me. Where’d you get it?”
When Tripp didn’t answer, Ian gave him the ‘you’re-up-to-something’ look, complete with wide grin.
“No way. You stole it? Are you in remission? Have you broken your own code? I thought Mr. Fox only returned what people ‘held inappropriately’, as you say.” A slow nod accompanied further study of the gem. “You’re in need of a taste of the dark side. I can see it.”
Tripp’s curiosity had overruled his moral compass, at least to an extent. “Just find out if it’s worth anything, got a story, you know … the usual stuff. I swear I’ve seen that before, but can’t place it. I have to give it back tonight.”
“Tonight, huh? When’d you get it? Who’d you take it from? Why—?”
Tripp raised an eyebrow. “You’re one to question my motives? The man who lives off what I can do?” The statements came out without malice.
What fun would the gift to never get caught be for Tripp if his childhood friend couldn’t benefit from it, too?
“Fine, fine,” Ian said. “But once I find out, I want the whole story … from the beginning.” He checked his watch. “My flight’s in an hour. I’ll catch you when we get back to New York. If you return without the blonde … even better. If you get the urge to hunt for some other goodies, just say the word. I have a few connections who might still work with us.” Ian took notes on the dimensions, size, weight, shape and with a cell phone camera, added a photo.
As he left, Tripp chuckled to himself. His friend had the right idea—at least about Jill. In a few months, he’d either say, ‘I do’, or ‘screw you’. Either would bite him in the ass. The more he thought about it, the less a cozy life of leisure appealed to him. Cop out or not, he might have to defer to his former self if the dark haired beauty showed up in his life again.
• • •
Lexi leaned on her bedroom’s door frame. Hers, a subtle lavender, and Emma’s, a bold raspberry, fed into a French Country yellow bath with dual sinks. Their beach house, one they’d lived in since childhood and bought when their parents chose to sell it, reflected each of their tastes. The mess from the morning had been put to rights, though the pendant had not reappeared. How she managed to lose it in the first place continued to stump her.
“You’re seriously staying in?” Emma dropped her eyeliner into the sink, dabbed at the edge of her lips.
Af
ter a day at a mall twenty miles from the beach, Lexi wanted nothing more than an evening alone.
“Yes, and I’m looking forward to it.” And to finding my necklace.
She should have looked for it before they left, but memories of the man on the beach had required extreme distraction.
“Every day this week I’ve done some form of work. So, tonight, I’m going to enjoy the ocean, the breeze and the solitude all by myself.” She gave an emphatic nod of her head.
Emma’s goal for their time away included as many single-night escapades as possible.
She smiled as she applied a layer of blush. “Whatever you say. I’d think dinner at a four-star restaurant with a ripped man would be enjoyable, too.” She raised an eyebrow as if to imply there might be more than a meal—which for Emma would be the truth.
Lexi’s laugh reflected her happiness for her sister. “I’ll leave the flirtation to you given you’re so much better at it than me.” She headed toward her room. “It’s a whole lot easier to just stay away from men.” And very necessary when the one torturing your mind is engaged.
“But a lot less fun.”
Yeah. Lexi said nothing. Emma didn’t need to know she agreed. Time to find that jewel. Where most people would stop their search for a missing item and it would eventually turn up, Lexi would set her mind to the task and could follow a path right to it. She flopped on the bed and imagined the pendant as she’d seen it before she’d tucked it beneath her dress.
Her mind drifted, following a circuitous road of images that would lead her to its location. Pictures jumped from one to another until Tripp’s profile appeared instead of the blue sapphire-looking gem.
She blinked open her eyes to find the ceiling staring back at her. Maybe I’ll meet Mr. Fine-and-dandy again someday … without the fiancée.
“Lex.”
Lexi sighed as she imagined his tug on her hair and his smell, the dark profile and strength in his face.
“Lexi!” Emma’s second abrupt call ripped Lexi from her daydream.
“Yeah?” She rose up onto her elbows, preparing for the Emma fashion show which accompanied each night’s departure.
She walked out in a red form fitted halter top and white tennis skirt, which she’d accented with a string of pearls and a set of Grecian sandals. “What do you think?”
“Gorgeous, as always,” Lexi said with all sincerity. “Knock ’em dead, Em. Well, don’t kill ’em, but you know what I mean.”
Emma laughed a sweet tinkle of a sound as she sprayed Chanel into the air and walked back and forth through the cloud. “You can still come, you know. You’re never third wheel, and I really think you need to relax.”
“That’s what I’ll be doing … tonight.” Lexi made a circle in the air with her finger to prompt Emma to turn.
A quick check for wrinkles and accidental pinches confirmed her readiness as the chime of the doorbell rang through the house.
“Want me to see you down?” Lexi asked.
“Nah. You know where we’ll be if you change your mind.”
Lexi shook her head. “I’m going to grab a quick shower, then me, the sounds of the ocean, TV and leftovers are going to—” have a pity party.
Emma’s frown marred her otherwise happy face before she threw air kisses to Lexi and disappeared with one last little sigh.
In the bathroom, Lexi spun the shower handle to hot. Steam from the water added blotches of fog against the mirror. A single line of condensation created a lazy trail down the shiny silver. She thought of the man who’d appeared as if from nowhere and kindled a fire inside that rivaled the heat in the room.
“Twenty-nine and single. Never finding the right guy sucks.” She stared at her reflection. “He’s already taken.” Emma’s suggestion that she snag him anyway had her frowning again. Lexi could do it—that, she knew. “Do not make this a game. Do not. Do not. Do not.” She shook off the thought. “Focus on the necklace. Where is the necklace?”
The images played again, directing her to the pocket of a pair of jeans. Her gaze roamed upward to broad shoulders, a tight blue T-shirt over a muscular chest.
Get a face first.
She forced her path up farther, but her mind wouldn’t form the picture of his face.
“That’s weird.” She shook her head, relaxed her mental muscles and followed the same picture-path again with more determination.
One after the other, the same elements appeared, but still no identifying detail. She backed away and returned.
Nothing.
Alrighty, then. Find a location.
Lexi backed away as far as possible, dissecting each image that appeared.
A table.
A space.
The strand’s most popular coffee shop.
Yet, in the place of the holder, a blank spot marred the image.
“I must be more tired than I thought.”
She gave up her search in favor of the spray of water behind her. The intent, to relax and cool her body’s reaction to the thoughts of the engaged man, backfired as drips made their way down her body, intensifying the heat within her.
Lexi spun the knob to cold, shivered at the short burst of frigid water and jumped from the confines of her enclosure.
In her most unflattering sweat shorts and a half-ripped T, she dropped to her bed. Despite the roar from the ocean, the emptiness of the house left her with a sense of loneliness. “Should have gone with Em.”
She flipped through the eight hundred or so channels on the television, but like most nights, none of the programs interested her.
A trip to the fridge downstairs netted no new suggestions for dinner. She stepped out onto her deck, grabbed her book and plopped into a chair. An array of colors painted the ocean. The bright blue of late afternoon mixed with a deep dusky azure of evening and a hint of orange, creating a blend only found on the ocean’s surface.
A couple strolled along the beach while a dog barked and jumped with unrestrained freedom. The uniform breeze brought sounds from everywhere as well as the scent of a barbecue. Her stomach grumbled.
“Okay, okay. Dinner, then vegging. Then finding that necklace.”
Lexi rose from the chaise, replaced her book with her keys and jogged down the short pier toward the beach. If her luck held, and it always did, she’d arrive at the diner in less than ten minutes, catch a meal before it closed and be back before the sun set for the night.
As she turned the corner off the last step, her toe hit the edge of a hidden plank and sent her careening into Tripp’s arms.
3
The woman fell with as little grace as Tripp imagined a woman could. Her momentum kept her off balance until she tumbled from his arms and onto her butt in the sand.
Tripp stared down at her, one eyebrow raised.
For a moment, neither moved.
He shook himself from their awkward freeze-frame and extended a hand in her direction. The other he held up in an I-come-in-peace sign. Her palm pressed against his—soft, despite the grit from the sand.
“Sorry about that. I should have been paying more attention.” She slid away, wiping her hands on a pair of ratty sweat shorts that gave way to long, slender legs.
An urge to pull her into him and tug on the cascade of curls licked at him like a flame. He stuffed his hands in his pockets while she swatted at tiny flecks of sand.
“Where’re you headed?” He should have kept to his plan, returned home and never looked back, but Tripp Fox never gave up an opportunity.
“The diner.” She smiled at him. “I sort of skipped dinner.”
The tone of her comment, light and airy, endeared her to him more than it should have.
“Care for some company?”
“You think that’s wise?” The smirk reached her eyes as if she held some cosmic secret of which he should be wary.
He knew she meant his fiancée, but two could play the game. “It would be the safe thing to do. I don’t know why or how you were out here in t
he wee hours of the morning, but where I come from, single women shouldn’t be out alone … at night.”
She cocked a hip, crossing her arms. “Who said I was single?”
Tripp laughed. “Touché. Let me rephrase. Women … alone at night … better be immortal if they want to stay perfectly safe.”
“Who says I’m not one of the undead?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief and intrigue. “Or I’m not packin’ some heat?”
He leaned to the left, switched to the right as if to check for signs she held some supernatural power or a firearm.
Her eyebrow rose.
“Do you want company, or not?” His tone turned terse, but he softened it with a smile.
Her gaze stayed locked on his, dark brown eyes giving away no emotion. If she held her own in the middle of the night dressed in evening wear, he figured she could make it to the diner alone, too. He just didn’t want to walk away.
“Don’t you have somewhere you should be? A fiancée to tend to?”
“Did I say fiancée?” He fidgeted with the pendant tucked inside his pocket.
“You did.”
Tripp looked down at his toes. Damn Jill and her trumped-up plans. “I think what I said was … she says I’m her fiancée.”
Lexi remained silent as if waiting for him to go on.
“She asked me, and I didn’t say yes, if that matters.” Why the hell am I telling her this?
That eyebrow arched again as she blew away a stray hair—one of the same he’d twisted around his finger less than twenty-four hours before.
“Okay … yes, she thinks we’re getting married, but I haven’t made my decision yet. So, it can’t mean we’re actually engaged, right?” He extracted his hand from his pocket and held it out. Dammit, there I go again. He shook his head. “Company, or not? Last chance.”
The woman stepped past him without a word. He spun on his heel, taking in his fill. Her natural dark coloring, the sway of her hips and the swing of her ponytail sent his blood straight south, tightening the space between his pelvis and jeans.
After only five steps down the beach, with her arms still crossed over her chest, she called out, “You can come if you want,” but continued to walk.