by Dana Volney
• • •
Why did people always want change? Sometimes the status quo worked for a reason. Adam set his plate and glass into the sink behind the bar and started the water. He’d clean his plate, along with some glasses from the lunch crowd.
Liv’s ideas probably didn’t suck. And, yes, it would be nice to bring in more business. But, seriously, he wasn’t ready to go changing everything. Not yet. Not so soon after his grandma’s death. The thought hit him hard and his chest tightened. He was here because his grandma had wanted him to be involved. He might not have visited as much recently as he should have, but he was here now and he was going to carry out Vam’s wishes.
He caught Liv’s movement from the kitchen out of the corner of his eye. “Liv,” he called.
She changed her path and walked to the bar. “Yeah?”
Her green eyes sized him up, but her facial expression remained pleasant. Annoying. If he didn’t know she despised him, he’d never have seen it on her face.
“What kind of marketing do you want to do?” he asked.
“I thought we could sponsor some boat races or water skiing competitions. Even fishing derbies. Start with the people already interested and engage them more. Bring them in.” She looked around the bar. “Bring them into a place that has a few new decorations and updates.”
“No touching the sign or the deck. I’ll take care of that.” His grandma had loved woodworking and taught him tricks of the trade. If the sign she made when she bought the marina needed to be updated, then he was going to do it.
“Deal.” She smiled triumphantly.
I played right into her hand, didn’t I? There were brains behind her beauty and he had no doubt she knew how to use all the tools in her arsenal. He was going to have to stay on his toes. And go for a run after work. Sometimes there was no other way to deal with life.
CHAPTER FIVE
“What if I renamed the houseboat?” Liv asked from the boat’s patio with her besties, Sadie and Hannah. Then it’d really be mine.
“Yes!” Hannah squealed and her long black ponytail bobbed. “How about Fish and Chicks?” She laughed much too hard.
Liv and Sadie couldn’t help but join Hannah in her hysterics.
Sadie found her voice first. “Um … no.” She shook her head, causing the tips of her golden hair to brush her shoulders, and put her index finger to her chin. “How about … Control, Alt, Delete?”
“Clever.” Liv raised her eyebrows and chuckled. “Feels too serious. Let me see … Aqua-holic?”
The trio kept laughing and drinking while naming the best puns they could come up with. As the night progressed, so did the silliness of the names. Ship Happens, Master Baiter, and Shameless Hooker all found way into the mix. Liv planned to fish, but didn’t want the name centered around the sport.
“Okay, okay.” Liv waved her hand to shush the giggles. She smiled wide and paused before announcing, “Silver Lining.”
The three women, still with smiles and drinks in hand, didn’t laugh. Silver Lining spoke perfectly to Liv’s new start. A start provided by tragedy but that would have meaning.
“How’s the co-owner situation going?” Sadie finally broke the silence.
Liv groaned. “Less than ideal.”
“All the pretty ones are, in fact, tools.” Hannah licked the salt on the rim of her glass, and sipped her margarita. “That’s why I love them so much.”
“I didn’t say he was pretty,” Liv scoffed as she finished her second mai tai. She squinted toward the magnificent light of the California evening sun. She closed her eyes, letting the heat saturate her face.
“You had to work side by side with him today?” Sadie eyed Liv as she mixed her lemon drop.
“Yes. It was the worst.”
“Better get used to it. You two are fifty-fifty partners, right?” Sadie’s logic never failed.
“Unfortunately.”
She sat in the middle of the trio on the patio where they’d extended their legs to soak up the rays. They had made an impromptu picnic of their favorite drinks and fruit, and brought their coconut-scented suntanning oil.
“It can’t be that bad.” Hannah reasoned. “Maybe you two need to start over, or have a little romp in the hay to eradicate the tension.” She waggled her eyebrows at Liv. “Whatdaya say? Turn on that Barnette charm.”
“That will not be happening.”
“That’s a shame,” Adam piped up behind the three women.
Liv sucked in air quickly and twisted around, shocked. She’d been drinking too much rum to stop herself. His earbuds hung off his muscled shoulders onto his red, form-fitting tank top. His black shorts matched his tennis shoes. And all of it, all of him, screamed yummy.
Liv’s gaze slowly made its way up his toned edges to find him staring back. Less lustful, of course. “What do you want?” she jeered to hide her imperfect thoughts.
“You mean besides you?”
“Har-dee-har-har.” She glared.
“I stopped at the marina to check in. We’re out of wood bundles. Someone’s going to need to go into town and get more.”
He put his hands on his waist, catching her attention. The way Adam had positioned his fingers, right on the full force of his hips, emphasized the top of his underwear, a dark green band that circled his waist. That image was sexy as hell. That’s it. No more drinking.
“I’m Hannah and this is Sadie.” Hannah stuck out her hand to Adam. He shook and she batted her eyelashes.
Liv rolled her eyes.
He turned to Sadie and shook her hand too. “Nice to meet you. I’m Adam. Apparently not romp-in-the-hay material.” He grinned.
“That depends on who you’re asking.” To Liv’s surprise, that remark dripping with sex came from Sadie’s mouth.
Liv cleared her throat. This is embarrassing on so many levels. “I can go.” She needed to get the conversation back on task.
“I’d rather go, if you don’t mind,” he replied.
“I’m capable of getting the wood, thank you very much.”
“That’s what she said.” Hannah cracked up while she swigged her margarita.
All of them ignored Hannah.
“That’s not what I said,” Adam said. “I want to go because I have a truck and errands to do.”
“Fine.” Liv waved him off. “You’re killing my buzz.”
Dealing with him during the day left her drained; she didn’t want him to ruin her nights too. Adam emanated the attitude of a jackass, arrogance—and he had too many muscles.
She not might’ve been completely certain what she wanted in a boyfriend, but she did know whatever it was, it wasn’t Adam. No way. No how. He didn’t fit into her mold of where she wanted her life to go.
She was going to enjoy her new business, despite him as her partner. She was going to bask in the glory of her new home, despite him as her neighbor. And she would date. Despite him.
Liv’s head spun. It’d been a long time since she’d drank more than one cocktail. And she hadn’t eaten much. Really only the cheeseburger. Maybe she’d undersold her lightweight status to Adam earlier. She totally was one.
Her day swirled in her mind and started to make her sick. She put her hand to her chest and swallowed hard, focusing on her breathing.
“You okay?” Adam asked.
“I’m good.” Liv reached for her glass, but it was empty so she went for the bottle of rum instead. “I’m better than good. I’m fan-freaking-tastic.” She hoisted the bottle to her lips and gulped.
“She’ll be fine,” Hannah reassured. “Join us? We’d love to get to know you. Since you’ll be working and living so close to our best friend.” She patted the boat’s hull to her left.
“I’d love to ladies, believe me, but I need to catch up on some work tonight.”
Work?
“Suit yourself.” Hannah shrugged. “We’ll be here if you change your mind.”
Get a room, you three. He wasn’t that drool worthy. She rolled
her eyes and kept chugging.
• • •
Adam set his iPod on the kitchen counter as he pulled off his shirt. His heart rate had settled from his run and he needed a shower. Then he needed to check in with his ops team. He’d gone almost two days without hearing a word from work. He didn’t like it. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
He stepped in the shower, intending to be quick so he could get to the night’s tasks. But when the hot, steamy water hit his sore muscles, he never wanted to leave. He let the streams of water beat down on his skin while he prioritized what he needed to do.
He could go into San Diego and get a new mattress and other things he needed on the list. He’d need to give his landlord notice of his move. Since his apartment had been pre-furnished, he’d grab all of his belongings in one trip. What a sad fact. In his thirties he should have more than clothes to move from one place to the next.
Still, he’d much rather infiltrate enemy lines than decide whether or not he wanted to be a permanent fixture at the marina. Working side by side with Liv all day, with her way of doing things and her smile, made him want to scream and laugh all at the same time. How frustrating. There was no way he could sustain that type of life. Although he would be gone a lot for work. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad coming back to the marina after missions.
• • •
“How you holding up?” Willamina asked on the other end of the cell phone the next morning as he was headed into San Diego.
“Don’t take that tone with me,” he said. Willamina knew he didn’t like having these conversations. That never stopped her from trying. She was his tech and communications specialist, usually staying in the office to assist from afar. She was more deadly from her desk than half the men he came up in the ranks with were in the field.
“Shut your face and tell me,” she said.
“I don’t know. Lots to take in.”
The reality of Vam being gone came in waves. It seemed like he was visiting, helping out while she took a vacation and she’d return any time. He’d glanced at doorways a lot, expecting to see her more times than he cared to admit.
“Adam, you’re going to get through this.” Willamina’s voice softened.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t.” He’d been through worse.
“A heads up: the ops team is thinking of making Paradise Point their new haunt.”
“No. Not a good idea.”
“It’s happening. As your friend I thought you’d want to know.”
“I like the old bar downtown where we’ve always met.”
“Yeah, but you own this one now. It makes sense.”
“Not completely.”
Willamina chuckled. “I know. They don’t. How’s that going? She as bad as you thought?”
“Worse.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad. You’re a charmer.”
“You’re not supposed to say junk like that anymore.”
“I’ll do what I want, thank you very much. You’re not the boss of me.”
“Actually…”
“Right.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
They’d dated long before either had joined WIG and were currently somewhere in the land of flirty friends and enemies. She was dating some tech chump now. It was cool. In any case, he trusted Willamina with his life on a daily basis. She’d never failed him.
“Speaking of which. Any updates?” He opened his middle console and fished out sunglasses.
“No. Nothing. Silence. Our man can’t get hold of the kingpin to take the bait.”
“How about the other guys? What are they working on?”
“One-off cases.”
He wished he were on one of those cush projects right now. Working alone and not having to deal with women named Liv.
“Thanks,” he said.
“When you coming back?”
He pulled into his apartment and cut his Ford engine. “Soon.” He said the word, but he didn’t know what it meant. “Keep me updated.”
“Will do … boss.”
• • •
“For the love of everything holy in the world, what are you doing to my lawn?”
Liv looked up from the lawnmower. Or, as she now referred to it, the axis of evil. Her entire face itched down to her throat. There wasn’t one place on her clothes that was dry in the 100-degree heat and her body ached. Growing up she’d never had to mow—that had always been something her dad was usually around to do. Luckily, her first time involved a self-propelled mower and a million square feet of grass.
“I’m mowing.” She glared with allergy-ridden eyes, rubbing the burning on her cheeks and neck. “What does it look like?”
“Like you’re creating crop circles in my lawn.” Adam’s face squished. “Are you mowing my beautiful grass in a freaking circle?”
“First off, it’s not just your grass. Second, I went where the mower led. What’s the big deal? It’s done, isn’t it? ”
“There’s no pattern. It looks like shit.”
“It does not.” Liv stepped away from the devil spawn mower to survey the yard below the back deck of Paradise Point. “It looks like a freshly cut yard. A thank you would be nice. Where have you been all day?”
“Errands.”
“You sure have a lot of errands.” She shrugged. “Well, sounds like this just became an Adam job then. I’ll gladly never mow again.” She sniffed and used her sweaty forearm to wipe her brow, not doing a lot of good. At this rate she’d never stop sweating. She also couldn’t remember what it felt like to take a deep breath without sneezing. Fuck this shit.
“What’s wrong with you?” Adam stepped closer and gently placed his fingers on her chin to tip her face away and inspect her cheeks.
She froze because she couldn’t tell if it was happening or she had become delirious and was hallucinating. Of all the things to imagine.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You might have a rash or something on your face.” His eyes searched hers hard. “Are your eyes swollen?”
Liv let out a deep breath. “I have allergies.”
“I’d say. This is normal?”
“They’re usually not this severe. I think it’s being in the trenches with nature that screwed me today.”
“I’ll take care of all lawn care from now on. You should, um, shower or something. Maybe take a Benadryl.”
His tender touch left her face and for a moment she missed it. Right up until he spoke again.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell the staff you couldn’t hack mowing. I’ll tell them you’re hung over or something, needed some more beauty sleep.” The sides of his eyes crinkled.
Liv rolled her eyes and as she walked toward the parking lot she threw over her shoulder, “I’m sure you can handle cleanup then, sport.”
She did need a shower and meds. That was very astute of Adam. It never made her sad to squeeze in a nap either.
• • •
Six hours later Liv rolled over in bed to a repetitive, annoying rapping at her door. She groggily sat up and touched her face. The puffiness had subsided and the itchiness was gone. She surveyed her clothes—she’d dressed in a light cotton pair of pajama pants and a black tank top with a built-in bra. She’d be suitable for ninety-nine percent of the people who could be knocking.
“Coming!” she called out as she padded to what was technically her front door. She opened it to find Adam standing with a to-go box.
“One percent,” she muttered under her breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“I was sleeping.” She ran her hand through her hair. “But, yeah.”
“I thought you might need dinner. I don’t really get the impression you cook.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I cook.”
“Really?” Adam and his skeptical gaze moved past her and took a seat on her couch.
“Please come in.” She reached for the c
ontainer that she’d bet dollars to doughnuts held a cheeseburger and fries. Yum. Yum. Come to momma. Maybe I should be nicer. Her stomach rumbled and her opinion of him relaxed. Jerks didn’t bring women food.
“Sometimes I do cook … er, bake. When I’m in the mood. Oh, this smells good.” She opened the container and wrinkled her nose. “What’s this?”
“Exactly what it looks like. Yogurt, fruit, and toast.”
Her improving opinion of him reverted. “Who eats this crap when they’re recovering from a traumatic event?”
“Mowing was traumatic, huh? Eat it. It’s good for you.” He rested his ankle on his knee and outstretched one hand on the back of her couch. “Think mowing will leave a scar?”
“Possibly, but, thank goodness, not the literal kind. My rash seems to be gone.” She poked at the food with her finger, hoping he’d hidden meat somewhere. “How come I smell a burger and fries?”
“Because I just had dinner.”
“You what?” Liv set the paper box down on her white top table. “So really you came to rub it in that you had a fantastic dinner and my day sucked?”
“Basically.” His chest rose with laughter.
She let the low growl of his laugh sink into her bones. He had a good laugh and a killer smile to boot. She gave in and let out a couple of real chuckles of her own.
“Job well done, sir.” She picked up the toast. “At least you had the good sense to put jelly in here.” She spread the strawberry mix and bit into her the toast, eyeing him. He snuggled in her living room and didn’t seem like he planned to leave any time soon. “Something on your mind?”
Liv curled her knees up on her seat. She felt sluggish from the meds and if Adam were gone, she’d eat in bed.
“What’s Liv short for?”
She paused before stabbing a strawberry with a fork. “What makes you think that’s not my full name?”
“I doubt you come from a family that doesn’t use longer names.”
She chuckled. “You’re so bizarre.”
“So, what’s your full name?”
She chewed and studied him. No one ever asked about her name. They took it for what it was worth and only sometimes thought it was short for Olivia. There was a glint in his eyes, the I-dare-you-to-lie-to-me-kind. How much did he already know about her?