Wet (Elemental 1)

by Rose Wulf

  ****

  Tuesday was Blake’s first shift at the beach. Unsurprisingly, by the time he showed up, the shoreline was littered with college students. He talked for a minute with Judd, the colleague he was replacing, before reaching his station and wrapping his hand around the lower rung of the ladder leading up to his tower. His feet hadn’t left the ground yet when a familiar female voice called out to him.

  “Blake!” It was Brooke.

  Releasing the ladder, Blake turned to face her with a smile. He allowed himself a lingering glance at what she was wearing—cut-off jean shorts and a loose light-blue t-shirt with the straps of her swimsuit exposed and tied around her neck—before he said, “Hey.”

  Brooke came to a stop just inside his personal space and returned his smile with a teasing grin. “You better not have been trying to run away from me.”

  Blake chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Good,” Brooke said. “Did I catch you clocking in?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged and added, “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we’re not allowed to talk to people.”

  “That’s a relief. I’d hate to get you in trouble. But the better question is, what’s company policy on girlfriends?”

  Blake responded by planting his hands on her hips and stealing a lingering, playful kiss. “That answer your question?”

  Brooke grinned and let her fingers trail along his arm. “More or less.” She paused before letting her arm fall to her side and somberly asking, “I don’t suppose you’ve made any headway on figuring things out with that … other group?”

  Grin vanishing, Blake’s eyes flicked toward the ocean. “No, we haven’t. As far as I know, there haven’t been any incidents since yours.”

  “That hardly seems fair,” Brooke grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Neither spoke for a moment until she said, “Hey, I forgot to ask before, did you ever hear how Angela’s conversation went?”

  “It went pretty well from what I heard. She told him after school last week, and they went to a movie Friday afternoon. Angie didn’t say anything about him freaking out, or not returning her messages.”

  “Well, it is sort of a surreal thing to try to wrap your head around. Maybe he’s in denial?”

  Blake shrugged. “That I don’t know.” He jerked his thumb toward the water. “Are you going to swim while you’re out here?”

  “I was thinking about it,” Brooke replied with a teasing smile. She tilted her head up towards the clear sky. “I mean, how often does it almost hit seventy in mid-March?”

  Blake chuckled. “Not very often, that’s for sure.”

  Returning her eyes to him and keeping her grin firmly in place, Brooke asked, “Are you going to watch my back if I do?”

  Lips curving upwards once more, Blake replied, “That is my job, remember.”

  Waving her hands in a shooing gesture, Brooke said, “Then you should get back to it. I’m going to go get my feet wet.” She threw in a wink for good measure and promptly turned toward the shore.

  Blake watched her go for a moment, grin still plastered on his face, before he shook his head and once again reached for the ladder. As he scaled the distance to his designated seat, his mind replayed their conversation. It may not have been her intention, but she’d raised a good point. Despite the fact that his mother could only recall two instances of attacks from her youth, Blake’s instincts screamed that they weren’t out of the woods yet. They all needed to be on their toes.

  ****

  Brooke did her best not to grin like an idiot as she moved closer to the shoreline. Flirting with her sexy lifeguard boyfriend was fine and all, but strutting around like a love-struck high school freshman was ridiculous. Not that it was her fault. No, as a matter of fact, it was entirely his fault she felt this way.

  She’d been wrong when she’d assumed that he’d look out of place in the requisite red trunks of a lifeguard. And while she still preferred seeing him in shades of blue, the red worked just fine. Or perhaps she was just too distracted by his toned chest to pay any real attention to the contrast between his lighter skin tone and the trunks.

  And that thought sent her mind straight to the gutter. It wasn’t near the first time she’d seen him shirtless, but getting to see him shirtless in public added a whole new level of excitement. It was almost like sneaking something your parents said you weren’t supposed to have right under their noses.

  But this wasn’t the time to be daydreaming about that kind of thing, and so Brooke did her best to shake her mind onto a new topic as her toes met with cool sea water. The change in temperature around her feet was distracting, and for a moment she was able to simply gaze out over the gently rolling waves of the ocean and relax.

  It was a nearly cloudless day, the morning fog long since dissipated, and birds were fishing not too far out. She could even see the outline of a vessel of some sort in the distance.

  I wonder if Blake can feel my toes wiggling… Well, so much for the distraction. But it wasn’t like she could turn around and ask, so she was just going to have to ignore the curiosity until later. Maybe later tonight?

  Heaving a sigh, Brooke took another step forward so that the waves rolled up and over her ankles. She turned enough to watch the groups of people scattered along the beach. There was an intense game of beach volleyball going on to her right, about halfway between the waterline and the parking lot. Numerous couples were scattered here and there, some sitting on beach towels and many splashing around in the shallow water. One couple was even strolling along the water’s edge, hand-in-hand. Several groups of three or four were moving around, dancing in the water or walking along the sand. A few yards away, a kid of maybe ten was building a truly impressive sand castle with his father’s help.

  But there was only one man who seemed to be there by himself. Brooke frowned as she gazed at him, realizing that he was vaguely familiar. He was standing just beyond the reach of the water, staring out thoughtfully toward the horizon. He wore dark slacks, his feet covered by shiny black shoes that did not belong on a beach, and his upper body was clad in a simple light gray t-shirt. His hands were resting in his pockets, and the tips of his brown hair were moving, just a little, with the breeze.

  Brooke scrunched her lips as she watched him. She knew she knew him from somewhere, and it was eating at her. Perhaps he was a customer that she hadn’t seen in a while? No, she decided. That wasn’t it—at least not exactly. But then where do I know him from? It was really beginning to bother her, and even that seemed strange. She didn’t usually dwell on something that could be brushed off as déjà vu.

  But then he turned his head, without moving the rest of his body, and met her gaze solidly. They were standing several yards apart, too far to be heard if they tried talking at a casual level, but there was no doubt that he was staring straight at her. And in his not-quite-glaring brown eyes Brooke found her answer: This was the same man who’d come in to the diner that one time with Emma, nearly two weeks ago. She recognized him as much by his face as by the sudden nausea in her stomach.

  Then the man turned completely, releasing her from his stare, and began walking up the beach. He never removed his hands from his pockets, and his walk was calm yet brisk as he made his way to the parking lot. Like a man with a purpose.

  Brooke watched, her stomach still churning, as he moved steadily toward a Crown Victoria that was parked apart from the crowd of vehicles. She swallowed heavily, realizing her breathing was slightly uneven, her eyes still riveted on the unknown man. It wasn’t until he had ducked into his car and pulled the door shut that the strange spell released her, and Brooke turned promptly back toward the sea.

  Dragging in a deep, ragged breath, Brooke gasped, “Who was that?” It was only the second time she’d seen the man. The second time she’d wished she had never been so unlucky. But something about this encounter was worse. Before, she recalled, she had blamed his irritatingly superior attitude. Now, however, she was thinking
it was more than that. It wasn’t so much his attitude as it was him—the man himself was repulsive and terrifying, though she had no solid reason to feel that way.

  Maybe I should ask Georgia if she ever figured out anything else about that guy, she decided as she released another heavy breath.

  When the water around her ankles shifted slightly, Brooke blinked and looked down, expecting to find a strand of seaweed stuck to her ankle or something. Instead, as she watched, the water rolled and curved, pulling entirely away from the sand and pushing forward in strange patterns. And then, all of a sudden, the patterns solidified. The bare patches of sand had formed words.

  EVERYTHING OKAY?

  For a moment, Brooke could only stare at the words in front of her. Obviously, Blake had seen at least a piece of her bizarre behavior. It eased away the lingering uneasiness to know that he really was watching. She felt her lips begin to curve into a faint smile, and then it dawned on her that she didn’t know how to respond. He’d told her once—because she had actually asked—that he couldn’t hear through water. So she doubted speaking would work.

  Well, in that case, she decided even as the tide rolled in again and washed away the words as if they’d never been. She turned to face the tower, which was almost directly behind her, and lifted her hand to wave up at him. She didn’t know if he could see her expression or not, but she added a smile for emphasis. It was hard to tell from her distance, but she was pretty sure she saw him nod a moment later, so she lowered her arm.

  Brooke turned back to the water and sighed. It was true that she no longer felt nauseous or uncomfortable, but she also no longer really felt like swimming. Her good mood had definitely gone down several notches. “So much for this.” Telling herself she would try again another day—though it might have to be later in the afternoon—she turned and began trudging back up the beach.

  With her head down, Brooke didn’t realize that Blake had climbed down from his tower to meet her until he called out to her. Her head snapped up in embarrassed surprise, and she met his gaze even as she adjusted her course to meet him.

  “What was going on down there?” Blake asked before she could say anything.

  Brooke hesitated a moment, deciding whether or not she wanted to sound utterly ridiculous. “Did you see that guy? The one who was standing over there?” She pointed to the area where he’d been.

  Blake’s eyes shifted to follow her finger for a moment before returning to her. “The guy in the slacks? Yeah, I saw him walking away. Why?”

  “It’s stupid,” Brooke warned with a sigh. “He came in to the diner with Emma Matthews about a week and a half ago, give or take, and I remember he didn’t seem overly friendly. He was never actually rude to me, but something about him just sort of … freaked me out, I guess. Anyway, I hadn’t seen him since until a few minutes ago, and he stared at me with this really intense, uncomfortable look in his eyes. And then he just walked away.”

  “Did he say anything to you?” Blake asked, a frown curving his lips at the edges.

  Shaking her head, Brooke replied, “Not this time. And the time before he only spoke enough to order his food. I don’t suppose you have any idea who he is?”

  It was Blake’s turn to shake his head. “No. I think I’ve seen him once or twice, but I can’t place him. You said he was there with Emma?”

  “Yeah. Do you know Emma?”

  “She’s Angela’s boyfriend’s older sister,” Blake explained with a faint nod. “Maybe Angela would know who he is—if this guy’s ever around when she’s over there.”

  Brooke pursed her lips, remembering what Georgia had told her. “Who knows. My friend Georgia is pretty close friends with Emma, and Emma wouldn’t tell her anything when she asked.”

  Blake arched a brow. “That seems like an odd thing to keep from your friends.”

  “The whole thing was strange,” Brooke stated, easily recalling that night.

  “How do you mean?” Blake asked.

  With a half-shrug, Brooke replied, “Well, I walked up to the table at one point in time to catch a bit of their conversation. I don’t remember the words now, but whoever that guy is, he seemed pretty upset about something. Even Emma wasn’t very friendly that night.”

  Releasing a frustrated breath, Blake said, “That does sound strange. I’ll try to remember to ask Angie about him the next time I talk to her.”

  Snapping back to her senses, Brooke held up her hands, palms forward. “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I mean, it’s weird, but it’s not like he’s ever threatened me or anything. Seriously, you’ve done plenty for me. Don’t worry about this.”

  Blake hesitated, frowning more at her words. After a long moment, he finally said, “All right … but let me know if you see him around again—especially if he does anything strange. And remember, we’re dating, so it’s not like it’s inconvenient for me if you need help.”

  Her heart fluttered again as her arms returned to her sides, and Brooke smiled. “Deal.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Georgia all but slammed into the back room, purse clutched tightly in one hand. Her other hand was lifted, patting at her dark red hair in an attempt to smooth it. Her tone was exasperated as she exclaimed, “Holy Mother of God! It’s a madhouse out there!”

  Brooke offered her friend a sympathetic smile. She had only navigated her way to the back a couple of minutes prior; the memory was still fresh. “It’ll be worse tomorrow.” she pointed out.

  “Don’t remind me. Is it too late to call in sick?”

  With a bitter chuckle, Brooke replied, “I think so. I’m pretty sure Paula would call the doctor to confirm it.”

  “Why is Spring Break worse than every other holiday combined?” Georgia asked rhetorically as she shoved her purse into her own old locker.

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far. But it is pretty bad.”

  “You’re probably right,” Georgia admitted. Lifting her apron from the bench in front of her, she asked, “Do you ever wish you’d taken that job at the grocery store?”

  “Nope,” Brooke replied a heartbeat before the door to the backroom opened once more and Paula stepped inside.

  Both women paused, their hands stalled mid-air, and watched as their supervisor pulled the door shut and leaned against it with a heavy sigh. Without even opening her eyes, Paula asked, “Do either of you ladies have any idea what’s gotten Ed so worked up today?”

  Georgia and Brooke exchanged a brief look before Brooke stupidly asked, “He’s upset again today?”

  Paula opened her eyes and blinked at her silently.

  “What do you mean ‘again’?” Georgia asked. “The only time I’ve ever seen him upset was last year, when the cable company was giving him the run-around.”

  Brooke looked back and forth between them for a moment before shrugging self-consciously. “Early last week, I think, he was having sort of a bad day. He didn’t tell me about it, but he seemed fine the next day.”

  Paula released a breath and stepped away from the door. “Well, whatever’s bothering him today has him in a real fit. Be careful when you go in there. I’m tellin’ you, he’s got all the other cooks in a tizzy.”

  “Oh, joy,” Georgia grumbled as she resumed adjusting her apron. “Nothing ever goes right when the kitchen’s messed up.”

  “I just hope everything calms down by tomorrow,” Paula said. “If that kitchen’s not running smoothly on St. Patrick’s Day, we’ll be in real trouble.”

  Brooke and Georgia cringed. They were both working long shifts the next day, and Brooke doubted Georgia wanted to think about how much harder it would be if the kitchen staff wasn’t on their A-game any more than she did.

  “All right, well, enough stalling,” Paula said, her tone switching flawlessly to the closest thing she ever came to authoritative. She moved to push the door open again. “You’ve probably both been seated by now, so you’d better get out there.” And then she disappeared from sight.

  “Ha
ve you ever heard a more motivating speech?” Brooke asked.

  With a light laugh, Georgia grabbed her notepad. “Yep. You should’ve heard the speech my tenth-grade English professor gave us right before our final.”

  Leading the way through the door, Brooke replied, “Do me a favor, and don’t talk about school right now. I can only handle so much at once.”

  Georgia laughed behind her as the women made their way into the crowded dining area.

  ****

  Most of Spring Break passed in a greasy blur for Brooke. It was already Saturday, and she was working again, but this time only until mid-afternoon. And she would have just enough time to run home and clean up before her boyfriend picked her up. She couldn’t wait.

  But first she had to get through her shift.

  “I can’t wait until the college students go back to their dorms,” Georgia declared as she met up with Brooke at the drink station.

  Brooke laughed as she filled a glass with ice. “I hear you. I’d completely forgotten what a nightmare Spring Break can be.”

  Georgia reached for a straw, tearing off the wrapper as she said, “That’s because it’s worse this year. I swear it is.” She paused in order to focus on stabbing the straw through the ice without damaging it, and then she asked, “Is enrollment up this year?”

  Pulling her glass from beneath the tea dispenser, Brooke replied, “I heard it was down, actually.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  Brooke offered her an understanding grin. She set the first glass aside and reached for a second as she said, “Maybe we got more of Mimi’s crowd this year.”

  Mimi’s Kitchen was the other local non-chain diner in town. Because of this, for nearly as long as the two diners had co-existed, they had been engaged in a friendly rivalry. Brooke was pretty sure Earl’s Diner had come first, but then again she’d only ever asked Paula, and Paula was just slightly biased on the subject.

  Georgia paused, her second glass just millimeters from the soda tab she’d been aiming for, and turned to offer her friend a laughing smile. “Well, in that case, I think I can suck it up for a few more days.”