Cape Cod SEAL Rescue

by Elle James

  Roxi lay against the wet sand, her hair a tangled mess, her heaving chest slowly relaxing into steady breathing.

  Sitting beside her, Decker stared at the brave, stupid, incredibly beautiful woman whose wet tank top emphasized the pucker of her nipples beneath her white lacy bra. She was the reason he’d gone into the ocean in the first place. Her perky, happy, no-nonsense work at the bar had captured his attention the first time he’d entered and hadn’t let go for the entire summer he’d been at the Cape.

  Now, lying in the moonlight, her hair a mess, her body covered in sticky salt water and clumps of sand, she’d never been more beautiful.

  His groin tightened, and he fought the urge to touch her, to feel how soft her skin was when he wasn’t trying to save her from drowning in a riptide.

  Her eyes blinked open. “Why are you still here?”

  “I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

  “I’m not alone.” She turned her head to the dog lying in the sand beside her. “I have Otis.”

  A smile pulled at Decker’s lips. “You do have Otis. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have known you were out there.” He reached across her body to ruffle the dog’s head.

  Roxi’s brows furrowed. “Hey, Otis. You’re supposed to protect me from the enemy, not join the other side.”

  “Oh, so now I’m the enemy?” Decker chuckled, and the sound faded at the thought that she considered him the enemy. “Why am I the enemy?”

  “All men are the enemy,” she said, her voice little more than a sigh. “Especially the ones who want to take advantage of a girl walking by herself.”

  Her words jolted his gut. “And I’m taking advantage of you?”

  Her lips twisted. “You’re hovering over me like a vulture looking for his next meal.”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to hover.” He flopped down on his back in the sand and stared up at the sky.

  Otis rose up on all fours and walked around Roxi to lie down beside Decker.

  Roxi snorted. “Traitor.”

  Decker raised tired arms. “I had nothing to do with it. Dogs like me. So, sue me.” He dropped a hand onto Otis’s fur and rubbed him. “Is he always this friendly?”

  “Not with men.”

  He angled his head to stare at her. “Have you got something against men?”

  “No,” she said, a little too quickly, and rolled onto her side to face him. “You know why I swam out in a riptide, but you didn’t tell me why you did.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Decker stared up at the sky, the full moon shining brightly down on them, wrapping them in a surreal world where nothing else existed but the sand, the ocean, and the two people lying on the beach. Oh, and the dog panting in his face.

  “Well?” Roxi pushed up on one elbow.

  “Well what?” Decker didn’t face her but could see the intent expression on her face in his peripheral vision.

  “You looked like a shark was after you, and like you had every intention of swimming all the way to France to get away from it.”

  He shrugged, the gritty sand rubbing against his skin. “Maybe a shark was after me.”

  “Did it have anything to do with celebrating your Alive Day?” she asked softly. For a long moment she stared down at him. When he didn’t answer, she dropped to her back and faced the moon. “You don’t have to answer. Some things don’t bear remembering.”

  Her words hit home, and his chest swelled with all the emotion he’d tried to swim out of his system but hadn’t quite managed to do. Now, too tired to fight it, he let it wash over him, filling every cell in his body. “I should have died that day.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No. But my wife did.” There, he said it. He told her something he didn’t share with anyone who hadn’t known him at the time of the accident.

  “Sucks, doesn’t it?” Roxi said, her voice soft.

  His eyes stung, and a knot formed in his throat. He hadn’t shed a tear over his loss, feeling numb more than anything else. Afraid if he let his emotions take over, he’d lose control and never find his way back.

  “Sometimes dying seems the easier way out,” she said, her tone stronger. “Then you don’t have to feel the pain over and over again.”

  “Yeah.” Decker turned toward Roxi, realizing she wasn’t talking about his pain. Her gaze fixed on the moon as if seeing into the past, not the bright round orb hanging in the sky.

  “What’s your story?” he asked. “Who did you lose?”

  She snorted. “It doesn’t matter. What’s past is past. We have to continue breathing until we take our last breath, don’t we?” Roxi pushed to a sitting position. “Well, thanks for helping me back to shore.”

  Decker rolled to his feet before she did and extended his hand.

  She stared at it and shook her head. “Thanks, but I don’t need anyone.”

  Decker frowned. She hadn’t said she didn’t need help, she’d said she didn’t need anyone. “We all need a hand once in a while. Take it. Your legs will be like jelly after that swim. Mine are.”

  “I’m tougher than I look.” She pushed to her feet, staggered and would have fallen if Decker hadn’t reached out and pulled her against him.

  Her soft curves fit against his hard planes, reminding him of what he’d been missing in his life.

  God, he’d loved Allison. She’d been beautiful with her short cap of rich brown hair, and dark brown eyes. At five feet five inches, her body was slim, almost too thin and her big eyes had always reminded him of a homeless puppy who needed to be protected, cared for and loved unconditionally. He’d failed her by not keeping her safe from harm. Allison had been one of the kindest, gentlest souls he’d ever met. He hadn’t deserved her, and he’d lost her.

  Now he stared down at the curvy woman in his arms, shorter than Allison, but more solidly built, her muscles toned from exercise and hard work, her skin lightly tanned and eyes such a bright blue they rivaled the shine of the moon. Her lips were full and lush, and all he could think about in that moment was kissing them.

  His head lowered.

  Roxi’s eyelids drooped and her stiff body melted into his, her gaze shifting lower. Before he could kiss her, she leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss.

  Decker’s arms tightened around her and he deepened the kiss.

  Her hands slid up his chest and locked around the back of his neck, tugging him closer.

  He swept his tongue across her salty lips. When she let out a soft gasp, he plunged past her teeth to sweep the length of her tongue in a ravenous caress. He couldn’t get enough. His groin tightened, and his erection pressed into her belly.

  Roxi’s body stiffened in an instant, and she went from warm and pliant in his arms to shoving against his chest, pushing hard enough he let go and staggered backward, still holding her to keep his balance.

  “Let go of me,” she whispered.

  “Okay.” When he was steady on his feet, he released her.

  She stepped out of reach, wobbled and then sat hard in the sand.

  “What’s wrong?” he squatted on his haunches in front of her. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” She brushed strands of hair out of her eyes. “Just leave me alone.”

  He shook his head. “Not until I see you home safely.”

  “I can make it on my own, thank you.”

  “I know. But after nearly causing you to drown, I feel responsible for you.”

  “Well, don’t.” She stood, swaying slightly. “I have Otis.”

  Decker brushed his hand over the dog’s fur. “Yes, you do. But I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  “Suit yourself. But don’t kiss me.” Roxi pressed the back of her hand over her mouth, her eyes still wide, almost scared.

  Had he done that to her? “You kissed me first.”

  Her hand fell to her side. “It won’t happen again.” She spun toward the bar. “Come, Otis.”

  Roxi walked away, her footsteps steadier with eac
h step.

  How she did it, Decker didn’t know. His legs were like jelly and exhaustion tugged at every muscle in his body. Had she not come after him when she did, had Otis not been with Roxi, barking so loudly, Decker might be floating out to sea, too far out to swim back and too tired to fight the current. Hell, had Roxi not shown up, he might not have cared enough to make it back to shore. In more ways than one, Roxi had saved his life.

  When they arrived at the bar, Roxi didn’t stop until she reached the rear staircase. With her foot braced on the bottom riser, she faced him. “Thanks for saving me.”

  Decker shook his head, amazed that this woman thought he’d saved her. “I should be thanking you. If you hadn’t swum after me…” He shook his head and gave her half a smile. “I might be halfway to France by now or eaten by sharks.” He took her hand in his. “Thank you.” With his gaze on hers, he lifted her hand and raised it halfway to his lips, daring her to yank it back.

  She didn’t, allowing him to sweep his mouth across her knuckles. Her fingers tightened around his. “Decker.”

  “Yes, Roxi?”

  “Sometimes living is harder than dying.”

  He nodded, his fingers squeezing hers.

  “But I’m glad you didn’t die.” She pulled her hand loose and ran up the stairs.

  Otis stood at Decker’s side, his ears perked.

  At the top landing, Roxi yanked open her door and held it wide. “Come on, Traitor.”

  Otis glanced up at Decker.

  “Go on,” Decker waved his hand.

  “Really?” Roxi shook her head. “I’m getting a new dog.”

  Otis climbed the stairs and entered the house like he was the owner, not Roxi.

  With one last glance at Decker, Roxi entered and closed the door behind her.

  Decker whispered, “Happy Alive Day.”

  Chapter 4

  Once Roxi closed the door, she leaned her back against it and slid to the floor, her knees weak, her body shaking and not from almost being lost out to sea. She shook because of a little kiss that should never have happened. Why had she stood on her toes and initiated it? Why?

  She trembled, and her blood ran hot, running through her veins like smoldering, molten lava, warming her cold body from tip to toe. Normally, she pushed away from men out of fear of their superior strength. This time, she’d pushed away out of fear of her own core heating, of her own breath-catching, gut-wrenching, raging desire. Never had she felt anything like what she’d felt when her breasts smashed against Decker’s chest, forcing the wind from her lungs. Her control had slipped, and she’d sunk into him, tingling all over. His gaze had captured hers and Decker had lowered his head. At that moment, Roxi had wanted to kiss him so badly she’d met him halfway, pressing her lips to his.

  When he’d cinched her closer…Oh, Lord!

  Roxi wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked forward, a moan rising up her throat. She couldn’t get close enough. The longing swept over her, crushing her in its grip. How could she long for someone when she was afraid to be intimate with a man? Afraid he’d learn the truth about her.

  Otis dropped to the floor beside her and laid a paw across her lap and his chin on the paw. He gazed up into her eyes as if seeing into her soul.

  “Oh, Otis. What am I supposed to do?” She stroked his fur, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t be with a man. Didn’t tonight prove it?”

  The dog whined softly and nudged her hand, encouraging her to keep stroking him.

  As she did, calm spread through her and exhaustion pulled at her eyelids. If she didn’t get up and shower, she’d fall asleep where she sat. Her problems wouldn’t solve themselves by dozing off on a hardwood floor and waking with a sore back. She had a business to run. Work would keep her focused and give her no time to wish for something she’d never have.

  She forced herself to go through the motions of showering and dressing for bed. The sun would be up all too soon, and the supply truck would be there before noon. Reminding herself to worry only about the things she could control, Roxi crawled into bed and closed her eyes. Immediately, images filled her mind of Decker and his incredible physique leaning over her. His body shimmering as the moonlight refracted off the droplets of water covering his chest.

  If only she could relax around the man and be like any normal, red-blooded woman, she might have a stab at a real life.

  Then again, Decker was still grieving over his dead wife. Even if Roxi could work past the lingering trauma of being brutalized at the innocent age of thirteen, she still couldn’t compete with a dead woman. One who’d had Decker’s love and complete commitment.

  Roxi sighed and turned on her side, pulling a pillow close to her body. For the first time since she was thirteen, she wanted to be held in a man’s arms. The pillow she snuggled with wasn’t nearly as satisfying as being close to Decker’s body, her skin touching his. What would it be like to lie in a bed with the man? To let him touch her? To make love?

  Her belly clenched, and she closed her eyes.

  Would she tense and panic like she did anytime a man got close? Hell, he’d only kissed her and she’d pushed him away. Then she’d told him not to kiss her. Even if she wanted a second chance with Decker, he was the type of man who’d respect her wishes.

  Roxi tossed and turned, twisting in her sheets until she finally fell into a troubled sleep where a strange man held her down and tried to rape her. It was the same nightmare she’d lived with off and on for over a decade. Only this time a good man with dark hair and deep green eyes swam ashore and rescued her before the bad guy brutalized her. The good guy held her in his arms, whispering reassuring words of love. Then he kissed her, and her body burned with desire.

  She stripped him of his shorts and licked the salty sea water off his skin, memorizing every inch of his body before she came down over him, taking him inside where no man had gone since she was thirteen.

  On her knees, she rode him until her body tensed, and her insides erupted in a beautiful explosion. When at last she lay down beside him, he gathered her into his arms and held her, his arms loose about her, giving her the freedom to choose whether to stay or go.

  She stayed.

  This was what sex was supposed to be. Two souls making a connection on more than just a physical level.

  Roxi opened her eyes and stared at the luminous green lights of her alarm clock and groaned. Her body was covered in a thin layer of perspiration and she ached low in her belly, her center warm and wet from the insanely erotic dream.

  Unbeknownst to him, John Decker had found a way beneath her tough shell and refused to release her to go back behind the wall she’d built around her heart.

  Lying awake well into the early hours of the morning, Roxi struggled to eradicate the man from her thoughts so that she might sleep. Despite all of her attempts, she couldn’t shake the image of his naked, wet chest as he leaned over her, the moonlight reflecting off his inky black hair.

  Damn. What if he showed up at the bar that night? How would she act?

  Her insides warmed. Her core tightened, and her lips tingled.

  Decker posed a danger to the thin thread she held over the control she’d fought so long to maintain. She had to get over those feelings before she saw him again.

  “Hey Decker!”

  The voice jerked him awake and made him blink at the gray daylight, hitting him square in the face. Decker glanced around, at first disoriented until he remembered trudging along the beach at zero-dark-thirty in the morning and collapsing in an Adirondack chair on his deck without attempting to make it to his shower and bed. He didn’t want to be confined to a space after all that had happened with Roxi. And he sure as hell didn’t want to go to bed and wish she was lying beside him.

  On the anniversary of his wife’s death, he didn’t want to lie awake in his empty bed when he’d had the pleasure of kissing a beautiful woman.

  “Yo, dude. Are you all right?” Hank climbed the steps to the stilted deck and
leaned against the railing.

  Decker pushed a hand through his hair, sticky and stiff from the salt water that had dried there. “What time is it?” he asked, his voice gravelly with sleep.

  “Nearly ten.” Hank glanced around. “I take it you slept here last night?”

  Pushing himself out of the chair, Decker stretched sore muscles. “Yeah.”

  His friend gave him a hard stare. “How much did you drink last night?”

  Decker glared at his friend. “I wasn’t drunk.”

  “Yeah, and we all like to sleep outside on the deck.” Hank shook his head. “You going to be all right?”

  Rather than give Hank his canned answer, Decker thought for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. I am.” And, oddly, it was true.

  “You’re not going to mope around the Cape all winter, are you? Because if I find out that’s what you’re doing, I’ll have to come back out here. And you know how I hate coming to the Cape when it’s cold and rainy, or worse, covered two feet deep in snow.”

  Decker raised his hands. “I promise not to mope. I have work to do, and I’m okay with cold, rainy and snow-covered ground.”

  “Do yourself a favor and get to know the locals. They’re a hardy lot, and they’ll have your back if you should run into any trouble.”

  One particular local came to mind, and his pulse kicked up a notch. “I’ll do that.” And maybe he would. If she didn’t shut him out like she had the previous night, after sharing an unforgettable kiss.

  Hank stuck out a hand. “It was good to see you again, Decker.”

  Decker gripped the man’s hand and pulled him into a quick hug. “Thanks for being there for me last night.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” Hank turned and walked toward the steps. “Don’t be a stranger. If you get too cold and wet, head to Montana. I’ll put you to work with my Brotherhood Protectors.”