Shore Feels Right

by Annette Mardis

  “All right. Lead on, Tyler, if you must.”

  “Oh, I must.”

  * * * *

  More than an hour later, they returned to Dolphin Inlet. When she’d settled in the stands, Tyler met his boss at the habitat gate.

  “She’s still here?” Flipper wasn’t happy about that.

  “Yeah, Tara’s staying for the four o’clock show. Is that a problem?”

  “No, I just figured she’d been gone by now. Not much she can do with you following her around.”

  “What is it you think she came here to do?” Tyler asked.

  “You never know with these animal rights types.”

  “I don’t get that vibe from her. She seems pretty straightforward.”

  Flipper smiled without humor. “She got to you, huh?”

  “It’s not like that. She’s just…nice.”

  “Sure she is.”

  “No, I mean it. You’d probably like her if you spent more time with her.”

  Flipper laughed like he hadn’t heard anything that funny in a while. “That’s so not going to happen.”

  “What are you afraid of?” Tyler teased.

  Indignant, Flipper snapped, “Not a damn thing.” A moment of silence passed before he added, “Quit looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like…you know.”

  Now it was Tyler’s turn to laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so flustered by a woman before. Finally, the shoe’s on the other foot, lover boy. How does it feel?”

  “Like I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t shut up.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just do me a favor and don’t get distracted when you look out into the crowd and see her in a few minutes. I need your full attention if we’re going to have a good presentation.”

  “You’ve got two seconds to get the hell away from me.” Flipper was only half kidding. “One…”

  “Okay, I’m going. See you out on the platform.”

  “Whatever.” Flipper headed for his office thinking his assistant was much too perceptive for his own good.

  Chapter 29

  True to her word, Tara contacted the Gulf Shore Police Department after watching the dolphin presentation and then sitting in the stands for a while longer as Flipper and his assistants continued to interact with the animals. Had anyone asked, she would’ve denied to her last breath that she found the head trainer entirely too appealing for her peace of mind. He was a natural in front of a crowd, and his ready smile and engaging personality complemented his surfer boy good looks.

  He certainly had a chip on his shoulder when it came to her, but Tara had expected that. They were, after all, on opposite sides of a very contentious issue. Finding each other attractive was a losing proposition all the way around. She knew that, so why did her heart rate soar and her palms sweat when she looked at him? She tried to put him out of her mind.

  But Flipper’s name came up again, of course, when Tara showed up at the police station for her appointment with Jo Tompkins. The detective had “invited” her to come by for an interview, and Tara headed straight there from the aquarium. Jo seemed to take an immediate dislike to her, which of course put Tara on edge and on alert. She’d long since grown tired of being lumped in with radical animal rights activists who threw red paint on fur coats and rammed whaling ships.

  “Let me be very clear about something. My life partner is a veterinarian at Gulf Shore Aquarium, and I have a lot of friends there, including Flipper O’Riley,” Jo warned. “I take a very dim view of anyone who threatens them or their livelihood.”

  “I agree with you wholeheartedly,” Tara replied, trying to stay calm. “I don’t condone keeping marine mammals in captivity, but I reject violence as a remedy. And if I ever heard of anyone in my organization threatening someone in this or any other manner, I wouldn’t hesitate to take action. The aquarium and its employees have nothing to fear from me or any other representative of SWADS.”

  Jo’s smirk spoke volumes. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “I don’t know, detective, why don’t you? I’ve done nothing to warrant this distrust.”

  “I’d like a list of all your members and their contact information.”

  “What? That’s an invasion of privacy, and you don’t have probable cause.”

  “You just claimed you have nothing to hide.”

  “I don’t, but my members entrusted me with their personal information. How would you like it if I expected you to turn over the phone numbers and addresses for all your police colleagues?”

  Jo glared at her.

  “I figured as much. So you’ll understand, then, why I’m refusing your request. However,” Tara hurried on as the detective opened her mouth, “I’m willing to meet you halfway. I’ll ask each of my members to call you.”

  “I’m sure they’ll get right on that.”

  “I’ll strongly suggest they comply.”

  “Without a membership list, how will I know if all of them do? Anyone who doesn’t want to cooperate will be able to hide behind their anonymity. How will you feel if that person hurts someone at GSA?”

  Tara rubbed her temples to ease the pounding in her head. “You’re presuming that one of my members wrote that threatening note. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

  “Look, I try to prevent bad things from happening whenever possible. But I’ve got a special stake in this case. Wouldn’t you do everything possible to protect someone you love?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, then…”

  “Okay, how about this? You give me a list of everyone who calls you, and I’ll check it against my membership roll. Anyone who fails to contact you will have to answer to me. That’s my best offer.”

  “I guess it’ll have to do. For now. Tell me something. You’re the cofounder of SWADS. Who’s the other founder? And how do I reach this person?”

  Tara frowned. “My ex-boyfriend, Steven Christianson. And I have no idea.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “We broke up about four months ago,” Tara explained. “I’m embarrassed to say he’d been cheating on me with one of our members, and I booted him out of our apartment. I haven’t talked to him since, nor do I have any desire to.”

  “What about the other woman?”

  “Jane Childers. She quit SWADS shortly after I found out she and Steven were involved. I didn’t even get the satisfaction of confronting her. She’s married, and I heard through the grapevine that her husband has filed for divorce. I don’t know if she and Steven are still together. Why do you ask?”

  “I’d like to talk to both of them.”

  “You think they have something to do with that note?

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  * * * *

  Monica stuck her head into Melanie Williams’ office and thought how happy her friend looked. Gavin’s mood swings were under control thanks to his new medication, and Melanie finally had her husband back. Plus, she’d landed a job that promised challenges and fulfillment, not to mention the chance to make new friends.

  “Does GSA’s new assistant marketing and promotions director have time for lunch?” Monica asked. “Some of the girls are meeting in the café in about half an hour.”

  “Absolutely,” Melanie replied. “Thanks for including me.”

  “Of course. You’re one of us now. And for future reference, you don’t need an invitation to join us.”

  Neither did Monica, and she didn’t take that for granted. She, too, smiled a lot more these days. Hard to believe that months ago some of the same women she now counted as friends wanted nothing to do with her. And her prospects for finding love had seemed dismal as well.

  Monica had a secret, and she wasn’t sure how long she could keep it to herself. She felt ready to burst with joy. She obviously hadn’t hidden it well, because as soon as everyone’s beverages arrived at the table, Tiffany Sandeski demanded to know why Mon
ica was in such a good mood.

  She tried to act nonchalant. “What are you talking about?”

  “Whatever it is you’re dying to tell us,” the guest services supervisor replied.

  “What makes you think there’s anything to tell?”

  “Because you don’t bluff worth a damn. Remember that one time we played poker?”

  How could she forget? She’d lost a hundred bucks, had stomped outside, and sat seething in Evan’s SUV until he came looking for her. Almost an hour later. It made her even madder that it took him so long. They’d had a huge fight, and when he’d gone back inside to let everyone know he planned to head home, Flipper followed him to the car and gave Monica an earful. Evan stood up for her, and he and Flipper almost came to blows and didn’t speak for a couple of weeks. Given they were as close as brothers, that was an eternity for them.

  “Okay, but Melanie, you can’t say anything about this to Cosby before I get a chance to talk to him.”

  Cosby’s sister-in-law rolled her eyes. “That goes without saying. Tell us!”

  Monica reached into her pocket and removed a metal GSA key ring shaped like a shark. One silver key, newly cut, hung from it.

  “I’m giving this to him tonight when I ask him to move in with me.”

  A couple of the women squealed, causing heads to swivel all over the restaurant, and they all giggled and made shushing noises. Melanie leaned over and hugged Monica.

  “He’s going to be so thrilled.”

  “Oh, God, I hope so. I’m a nervous wreck just thinking about it.”

  “You have nothing to worry about. He adores you.”

  “I feel the same way about him.”

  “Dang, you’re going full speed ahead, aren’t you?” marketing specialist Gina Martino observed. “You’ve been together what? Two months? Three max?” She glanced over to see her new boss, Melanie, frowning at her. “Hey, it’s nothing personal. Cosby seems like a good guy and all. I’m just surprised it’s happened this quickly. Not so long ago, Miss Monica told everyone she wasn’t looking for a new boyfriend.”

  “I wasn’t. It just happened. When something’s right, you just know it.”

  “I think you guys are great together,” Dani Davidson assured the woman under scrutiny. “I’m so happy for you both.”

  “Thank you. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time, maybe ever. I’m afraid I’ll jinx things by being too happy.”

  “There’s no such thing as being too happy,” Melanie noted.

  Shontay Jefferson, the assistant gift shop manager, held up her glass of iced tea.

  “How about a toast? Come on, snipe and gripes, let’s get those glasses up.” She waited a moment for everyone to comply, giving Gina the stink eye until she did. “To GSA’s latest lovebirds. I hope you have fun making your nest together. I know I would if I had a hunk like that in my bed.”

  “Oh, God, too much information,” Melanie moaned, but she had just as big a smile on her face as the rest of them.

  “To the lovebirds,” they repeated and clinked glasses.

  “And to hot guys and great sex,” Tiffany added, instigating another round of glass clinking.

  Chapter 30

  That evening, Cosby headed to Monica’s after work as usual. He seemed tired and distracted, and she hoped that didn’t ruin the romantic evening she’d planned. For dinner, they ate the pork loin roast she’d left in the slow cooker all day, with a small salad and mashed potatoes and gravy. For dessert, Cosby brought an ice-cream cake.

  The food and the conversation, not to mention the wine, appeared to relax him, and she found herself again looking forward to later.

  After they’d cleaned up the kitchen, he patted his full belly, flopped on the couch, and pulled her down on top of him. She kissed him and settled into his arms, feeling so content she wanted to pinch herself.

  “Thank you for that wonderful dinner,” he told her. “And I’m sorry I was such a grump earlier. I didn’t have time for lunch today.”

  “Is everything okay? You and Gavin aren’t at odds again, are you?”

  “No, nothing like that. In fact, he appears to be back to his usual self, which is a huge relief.”

  “Melanie told me things haven’t been this good between them in a long time.”

  “Gavin said the same thing. Speaking of Melanie, you two seem like you’re becoming fast friends.”

  “We are. I can’t tell you how nice it is to have someone locally to share girl talk with besides the snipe and gripe group.”

  “And just what do you two talk about?”

  “Not you.” Monica flashed an impish grin.

  He nibbled on her earlobe. “No? What then?”

  “None of your business.”

  He tickled her, and she giggled and squirmed. “Forget it, I’m not telling you.”

  “I have ways of making you talk.” He tightened his arms around her and sucked on her neck.

  “Cosby Williams, don’t you dare give me a hickey. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Yeah, from who?”

  “Jack Barfield, for one.”

  Just that quickly, Cosby’s playfulness evaporated.

  “I met him during the surgery on the turtle, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would that jerk-off care if I left a mark on your neck?”

  “Because he’s jealous, I suspect. We used to be friends, but he’s been distant since I started seeing you. And every time I mention your name, he looks irritated. Kind of like your expression right now.”

  “Maybe he and I need to have another chat.”

  “Another chat? What are you talking about?” Monica sat up, and Cosby wilted under the weight of her stare.

  “Damn it, I wasn’t going to bring this up. But remember when we went to the break room to get drinks and snacks that night?” Monica nodded. “He’d been staring daggers at me, so I asked him what his problem was and he told me I don’t deserve you.”

  “What? He actually said that to you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I thought he and I had an understanding. He’d better not have gone back on his word. He promised not to interfere in our relationship.”

  “He hasn’t done anything except be less friendly than he used to be. Which, now that I know what he said to you, explains a lot. What the hell is wrong with these men? First Jack, then Truman Raines. What part of ‘I’m not interested’ don’t they get?”

  “I’d never make excuses for them, because I’d like to knock both of them into next month, but I sort of understand where they’re coming from.” Cosby rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “I’d have a hard time getting over you, too, if you rejected me.”

  Monica stretched out atop Cosby’s body and kissed him with such emotion she could feel his heartbeat accelerate.

  “Luckily for you,” she told him between kisses, “you’ll never have to worry about that.”

  He smiled against her lips, rolled her beneath him, and went to work on her shirt buttons. For each one he opened, he pressed his lips to her exposed skin. Her eyes closed, and she’d nearly lost herself in the sensations humming through her when she suddenly shouted, “Wait!” and pushed him away.

  “What’s the matter? What did I do?”

  “Nothing. I’m sorry.” She kissed him to punctuate her point. “I just remembered I have something important to give you.”

  She slid out from beneath him and retrieved her purse as he sat there like an abandoned puppy. She reached inside her bag and closed her fingers around the surprise to hide it from him.

  “Whatever it is, maybe you can show me later,” he suggested. “I was just getting to the good part.” His gaze shifted to her lacy black bra, visible through the gap in her shirt.

  “I think you’ll like what I’ve got for you.” She winked, headed back to the couch, and settled beside him. “Close your eyes and open your hand. And don’t peek.”

  “It’s not alive, is it?”
/>
  “Of course not.”

  His grin never failed to rev her engine.

  “Okay, they’re closed. Now what?”

  She dropped the key chain in his hand, and he opened his eyes. “What’s this?”

  “A key to my apartment.”

  “Good. Next time you’re working late, maybe I’ll come over before you get home and wait for you in bed. Naked.”

  “Actually, I was thinking you might want to use it every day.” Her heart pounded so hard she feared she might pass out, but she had to say the rest of it. “You know, after you move in with me.”

  He seemed at a loss for words, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. And then a huge smile spread across his face and she could breathe again. He gathered her in his arms.

  “This is one of the best days of my life,” he murmured.

  “Think how much better it’s going to get as soon as we lose these clothes.”

  “Whatever you say, Nauti girl. I’m all yours.”

  * * * *

  Cosby sold or gave away most of his furniture before he left Ohio and rented a furnished cottage when he arrived in Gulf Shore. So packing for his move to Monica’s apartment wasn’t a big undertaking. Some of his stuff already had migrated over there in the past few weeks because they’d spent most of those nights together.

  “I’m surprised you have so much room available in your closet,” he told her. “I figured I might have to live out of my suitcases until you could clear enough space for me.”

  “I’d have a lot more clothes if I had more money and more places to wear them. But I put on a uniform every workday, so it’s not like I need a ton of wardrobe choices. Besides, I have that separate storage area off the back porch. It’s got shelves and an old dresser. I can keep a lot of my junk out there that otherwise would be in my bedroom.”

  “Maybe one of these days we’ll move to a bigger apartment. Either that or we can start saving for a house.”

  Cosby looked at her expectantly, but Monica pretended to be too busy hanging up his jeans to answer. She definitely wanted what so many other people did—a home of her own in which to build her family. But she wasn’t ready to go there yet. Cosby would just have to be patient.