by Kim Allred
All she heard was a loud pumping sound, the beating of her heart as she held his gaze. Her body responded to his closeness, the heat emanating from him. She wished she wasn’t holding the sextant, the only thing preventing her from reaching up to test the softness of his hair. Her mind became foggy, her voice thick. “The mark is critical. And then what?”
She moved closer. He took the sextant from her fingers with one hand and drew her in with the other. He leaned down and took her lips with his own. There was nothing hesitant in his kiss. His tongue immediately parted her lips, searching for a response.
He didn’t have to wait. Her hands free to explore, they slid up his arms, tracing the muscles beneath them. Hands moved around his neck, and she pulled him closer, her tongue seeking his. She softened against him, the sextant lying at their feet, forgotten. Finn’s hands moved to her waist and pulled her closer until there was no space between them, only the hardness of his chest. His fingers played at her neck before they cupped her face. He pulled back from the kiss.
She saw wild yearning in him. The fire that spread through her burned bright in him, and she pulled his head down for another kiss. And she whispered, “Show me more.”
Finn swept her up and carried her toward the stairs. Her laughter echoed through the narrow stairway as they made their way below. AJ held on tight until they reached his cabin and he dropped her to her feet in front of the bed. There was no question about what came next. She was all in now. A deep longing fired her blood when she realized how long she had been waiting for this moment.
She kept her eyes pinned to Finn’s as she unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands slid across his chest and down his arms, peeling the shirt from him. A medallion hanging from a black cord grazed his chest and caught her attention. Her mind stopped for a split second when she saw the stone within the medallion. Something scratched along the surface of her memory.
Before she could bring it into focus, Finn’s fingers brushed the underside of her chin, tilting her head up. His kiss trampled her curiosity. Her blouse slid away. She felt the coolness of the room, like a feather brushed against her skin, before it was replaced by the rising heat of Finn’s embrace.
AJ pushed Finn away, far enough to open the belt at his waist. Her fingers were swift as she moved to the button of his jeans and the zipper, yanking his pants from his hips. Finn stopped her progress, tossing her onto the bed and pulling her own pants from her.
AJ’s laughter returned. A deep throaty laugh. Finn stripped his pants off. As her warm gaze roamed upward, his brown locks dropped forward over his brow. The mischievous grin spread across his face. Her laughter turned to a wicked grin of her own as he perused her with an equally long look. She screamed with delight as he jumped onto the bed, her lips devoured.
Her mind reverted to its most primitive state. AJ drank in the full scent of him, the touch of his skin, his muscles. His hands seared her, roamed over her. Searching. His kisses like the wings of a butterfly one minute, molten lava the next. She reveled in the strength of his body as he lay on her, his fingers finding the right spot. Her body lifted in response, his lips light against her throat, his kisses more demanding. AJ closed her eyes, holding on tight as Finn slipped inside, and, guided by the stars, they danced with the moon.
34
AJ woke as Finn pulled on his shirt. Their first time together had been followed by two repeat performances, each slower and more intimate than the last. AJ blushed at the memory, smiling as she watched Finn dress. When he finished with the belt, he turned toward her and smiled in return.
“I didn’t want to wake you until the last minute.” Finn leaned over to kiss her. “I imagine you need to get to work.”
“Hmm. At some point.” Her voice was rough from sleep, her body warm in the sheets. AJ rubbed her thumb across his cheek. She felt the hitch in his breath, and her smile turned to an impish grin.
“Oh no. You, dear lass, could make me forget my whole day.” Finn pulled back.
“Would that be so bad?”
“Not at all, but I have a meeting, and you must have something to do at that paper of yours.” Finn buttoned the rest of his shirt. The chain flashed an instant before it disappeared from view, and she was hit with a feeling of déjà vu. It faded when Finn grabbed another kiss.
“What are you doing this afternoon?”
AJ stretched, looking around for her clothes. “I don’t know. I need to finish the story on the Daphne Marie. It won’t take long.”
Finn helped in AJ’s search, tossing pieces of clothing at her. “I’ll leave the room to you. I’m afraid all I have is an old-fashioned chamberpot behind the door.” And with his signature grin, he disappeared.
“Great.” She took a long look around the room and moaned, speaking to a now-empty room. “Well, we all have to pee.”
Once on deck, fully dressed, finger-combing her hair as best she could, AJ looked for Finn through the light drizzle. She spotted him where they had been watching the stars the previous evening, holding the sextant, running his hands over it. This time, AJ allowed the tingle free range to spread through her, giving lightness to her steps and a permanent smile to her face. She wasn’t one bit sorry for the previous night, regardless of what happened next.
“Is it okay?” She stepped next to him, her concern for the antique unmistakable. “We didn’t break it, did we?”
“No.” Finn turned it over. “Maybe a new dent on this one side.” His fingers rubbed the spot. “It still works fine.”
“Thank God. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for damaging such a beautiful antique. And you still owe me a navigation lesson. You’ve cheated me out of them. Twice now.”
Finn pulled her to him. “Oh, and it was all my fault was it?” His kiss was demanding, and AJ’s body melted against him. “You have the ability to drive all good sense from me.” Finn pushed her back.
She already missed the warmth of him. “Do you need a ride to town?”
Finn hesitated. “No, Mr. Jackson should be here any minute.” Finn looked at the instrument in his hand, rubbing the new dent. “But I do have the afternoon free.”
Finn’s fingers moved back and forth on the sextant. AJ refused to take the bait, but it would have been simple to give in. She’d stay with him all day if she could. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find something to entertain yourself.”
AJ turned and walked to the gangway. She gave him a parting smile, pleased to see his own smile—not a grin, but a genuinely warm smile. She ran down the gangplank, only slowing as she moved up the path, giddy from lust. All she needed was a little time to herself. Her pace increased. AJ was almost at a run by the time she reached the lot. She had to call Stella.
Once safe inside her car, she threw her head back and grabbed the steering wheel. It started slowly, like a wave spreading out along the sand. It hurt as it moved up her chest, the air exploding out of her. She laughed. Shaky, then stronger, unable to erase the grin. Now that she was alone, she recognized the emotions, surprised to find similarities between them.
She is five feet from the top of a climb, hair blowing in the light breeze, small trickles of sweat dripping down her face, her muscles calling out to her, vibrating from the fatigue, and she pushes through the pain and discomfort. With a last blast of adrenaline, she pulls herself over the ledge and drags herself into a sitting position. She gazes at the ocean, a peaceful sensation swells through her, emanating out from her center, and for just that moment, with the light from the sun announcing the day, the warmth upon her skin, the welcoming cries of gulls, the world is perfect.
Breaking from the spell, AJ pulled out her phone and pushed the familiar number.
The voice sounded groggy and disoriented. “This is Stella.”
“You sound awful. Did you fall asleep on the patio?”
“AJ? Thank God. Are you all right? You shut off your phone, you never do that.”
“Are you available for lunch? At the café.”
35
The bar was dark, as any good bar should be, a local joint near the heart of the city that catered to the serious all-day drinkers. The men, and sometimes women, whose lives had run aground, much like the scattered, dusty old pictures of the shipwrecks dotting the walls of the dingy bar, found their comfort here. The one place no one judged. The Shipwreck spoke as much to the clientele of the aged establishment as it did to the ships immortalized on the walls.
Adam looked out of place, nursing the glass of scotch in front of him, but he wasn’t the first man dressed for business that had found his way to the Shipwreck this early in the day. He sat at the bar, his tie loose, and not alone—two other men sat like bookends at either end of the bar, staring into their own drinks. Adam’s discomfort grew, an uneasiness that pushed at him, making him more distraught as he considered his situation.
This was how men like him created a life in this bar. They start with one problem and find a way to deal with it. But the way they deal with it creates another problem, which leads to yet another, and before they know it, they’ve created a web of lies so thick they can’t see their way past them. They get drawn in so deep, they end up in a dive like this, dragged into despair.
Adam’s problems might have seemed more manageable if he had picked a more high-class joint in which to drown his troubles. But there was a greater likelihood of being recognized in the nicer places—if they were even open at this hour. And it wouldn’t look good for a lead attorney at a major law firm to be seen drinking like a midday regular. No, this was much better. He wouldn’t make a habit of it. Besides, he wasn’t here to drown his sorrows. He was here for a meeting, and with his newfound resolve, he lifted his finger for another round.
He was well into his second scotch when the man appeared next to him, wrenching him out of his reverie. Adam looked into the rugged, tan face of the man, the impatient eyes dark and unforgiving, and his nerves receded under the stony emerald glare.
The man stared at the almost-empty glass of scotch in front of Adam. “Drinking away your morning, I see.” Finn sat next to Adam, turning to the bartender. “I’ll have a pint of something dark, and get my friend here another.”
“I don’t need another. I need to get back to work after this.”
“That’s all right. You can walk it off. We won’t be long.” Finn gave the room a slow scan before settling back on Adam. “Have you found what I’m looking for yet?”
Adam shook his head. “Not yet.”
“What’s taking so long? I thought you said you knew who had it. I’m spending good money for you to get it.”
“It’s not as easy as you think.” Adam spit the words out. His anxiety and the scotch were getting the better of him. “It wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Not anymore.”
A few blocks away, at the small café in the building of the Baywood Herald, AJ and Stella were lucky to snag a table. The lunch crowd was at high peak, a time they both tried to avoid. But Stella had a short window, and neither had the patience to wait until after work.
“So tell me where you disappeared to last night,” Stella said. “I know you think Ethan’s concern is unwarranted, but he doesn’t seem like someone who rushes to judgment.” She fussed with the cellophane protecting her plastic utensils, finally jabbing the fork through the plastic with brute force.
AJ patiently worked the plastic of her own utensils, retrieving her fork to spear the salad in front of her. “I’m not questioning Ethan’s warning about the thefts in the area. I’m sure they’re real, but Finn doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
Stella peeked at AJ and confirmed she was overworking her casual demeanor. She didn’t need to be told where AJ had spent the evening. “So tell me how things are with your captain.”
“He’s not my captain. Good grief, you make it sound like, I don’t know, more than it is.” AJ talked into her salad bowl, bent over her task, not once looking up.
“But that was who you were with last night. And I know of only one reason why you would have turned off the phone.”
AJ’s shoulders slumped, and her hint of a smile wouldn’t go away. Stella sighed. “I don’t need the details. Well, yes, I actually do, but I only have an hour. Just give me the highlights for now.”
AJ blushed. “It was one night, and I’m sure the only night.” She finally looked at Stella. “He promised me a story if I took him to dinner.”
“Well, that seems harmless enough. But you ended up on the boat.”
“Sounds like you already know enough.” AJ relented after a few more stabs of salad, laying out her entire evening, the dinner, the interview, driving Finn back to his boat, and finally, the speed-reader’s version of the events that followed.
Listening to AJ recount the evening, Stella heard the excitement in her voice, the sound they all got from the first rush of lust. She nodded along, supplying all the appropriate responses, the uh-huhs, the reallys, and the go-ons. But she could also see Ethan’s eyes as they laid out his suspicions and the concern that emanated from him. “I don’t know. That sounded pretty passionate, enough for there to be more than one evening.”
“He hasn’t said how long he’s going to be here, but I get the impression it won’t be much longer.”
Stella waved a forkful of salad. “Then I say get as much as you can, as fast as you can.”
AJ choked on her salad. “It’s been way too long for you. Whatever happened to the Realtor you met, what, about a week ago?”
Stella smiled like the Cheshire cat. “We talk.” She pierced a tomato, looked it over, and popped it into her mouth. “Let’s stay focused on you. What about Ethan’s concerns?” And for the first time, Stella saw conflict in her friend.
Finn’s beer wasn’t nearly as dark as he liked, but it was better than the weak yellow piss people usually tried to push on him. He took his first taste as Adam’s words sank in. The mug hit the bar with a thud, his desire for the brew now gone. “What do you mean it’s not there?”
“Not there. They sold it. Some estate sale a few weeks ago.”
“Are they sure?” Finn racked his brain. It must be close or he wouldn’t have found his way to Baywood, nor would he still be here. “Maybe you didn’t give them the right description.”
“They knew exactly which piece I was talking about. I barely said a few words, and they described it to me perfectly.”
Finn reined in his growing temper. There had to be a way to track it. “I can’t believe they sold it, like some piece of secondhand goods.”
“From what they told me, they hadn’t planned to sell it at all. The old lady living there was their grandmother, and she died a few months back. The family was selling some of her collections but had hoped to keep a few pieces of the nicer stuff.”
Finn’s patience waned, but it was better to let people talk, divulging too much as they rambled. He couldn’t do anything about the lost piece, other than to find out what happened and work through another plan to recover it. He took a long swallow of beer, the taste as bitter as his disappointment.
Adam stopped talking, peering into what was left of his third scotch. He had either disappeared into his own demons, or the drink had been too much. Finn waved the bartender over and ordered a cup of black coffee for Adam.
They waited for the coffee, each man an island, the silence the only string keeping them connected as they each considered their own problems, the answers not forthcoming. Finn had disliked this man from their first meeting. A bartender from another bar, who was also connected to a local poker crew, had introduced Adam to him. All Finn had been told was that Adam was a local lawyer who knew the lay of the land and was looking to make some extra cash. Finn had guessed a gambling debt was involved, but it wasn’t his business. Finn didn’t care, he just needed a job done, and there was no one better for the job than a lawyer.
Finn didn’t think highly of men who gambled away their fortunes. This man had a wife and children, yet risked their future for the call of the cards. But Finn understood w
hy men threw caution aside, attempt a taste of adventure to animate their perfectly dull lives. Once lured into their new life, they found themselves caught like a bug in a web—the more they tried to climb out, the tighter the snare. Only Finn’s awareness of the game kept him from clinging to a barstool in the middle of the day.
He turned to the man beside him. Adam cupped his hands around the mug of coffee, bent over it as if the rising steam was enough to clear his brain. And maybe it was. Finn could see the alertness returning. Though Adam still glared into his cup, his eyes were more focused, his body straighter. Still, Finn waited, allowing the man to finish half the mug before continuing.
“So you said they didn’t plan on selling all the pieces.”
For a minute, Finn wasn’t sure if the man had heard him. Adam sat still, a far away expression masking his face. Then, like a man frozen in time and suddenly released, he raised his mug to his lips, taking a long slow drink, and motioned to the bartender for a refill.
Adam waited for his coffee, took a quick sip of the hotter brew, and turned to face Finn, his eyes clear and sharp. The lawyer was back. “The granddaughter had kept several select pieces from the collection. She had hoped to keep something of her grandmother’s most treasured items.”
Adam paused for another sip of coffee, then pushed it away. “They were going to shut down early and close the sale. They had made what they needed to cover the debt. The rest of the stuff would be moved to small thrift stores or antique shops or, I don’t know, maybe dropped off as donations.” Adam shook his head and laughed.
“What’s so amusing about this?”
When Adam looked back at Finn, the vacant eyes had returned, just for a moment, before regaining their focus. “My luck. You know the saying, if it wasn’t for the bad luck…well, that’s how this went as well.