by Regina Cole
“Trey,” she said, waving as he cut the engine. Her smile was warm sunshine, her eyes sparkling with excitement to see him. As if he was someone special to her. Someone important.
Someone she wanted to hold on to.
He looked his fill, not bothering to turn as the ragged sound of a car engine sorely in need of a tune-up passed behind him. But Bethany’s attention was grabbed, for sure. The color drained from her cheeks as she turned to watch the old Buick’s progress as it pulled into the empty space beside her own car.
Trey followed her gaze. He didn’t recognize the vehicle, but he’d seen the driver once before.
“Shit.” He growled the word, swinging his leg over the bike saddle and crossing the two steps to Beth’s side.
What did Grandma want now?
“Bethany,” the woman said, leaving her vehicle. As she moved aside, Trey got a glimpse into the stained, yellowed interior. It looked like a bomb had hit a garage sale in there. Junk filled the backseat, the passenger side. Hell, there were even a line of little plastic hula girls along the front dashboard.
He shuddered.
“What is it?” Bethany stood stock-still, her hands fisted at her sides. “I paid your doctor bill. They’ll see you.”
“I need to talk to you.” Grandma shot Trey a look. “Alone.”
Trey reached over and wrapped a possessive arm around Bethany’s shoulder. “We’re a package deal. I’m not going anywhere unless she asks me to.”
Bethany shot him a grateful look before turning her attention back to her grandmother. “Trey and I are together. What could you need to say to me that can’t be said in front of him?”
Grandma glowered. “I don’t particularly want to talk about my medical issues in front of a stranger.”
Beth blanched. Trey was torn. As much as he wanted to protect Bethany from her toxic family, he knew he had to bow to her wishes there.
Bethany turned her wide blue eyes onto him. “Do you mind waiting a few minutes?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be right here. Take as long as you need.”
“Thank you.” She reached up on her tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek, a touch that seemed to sear down to his soul.
He closed his eyes and relished that sweet, simple touch.
How incredible that something with hardly more substance than a butterfly’s wing could move his very soul.
He’d fight tigers for that woman. He’d climb mountains. He’d lie down in front of a train if she needed him to.
The thought should terrify him. But it didn’t. It strengthened him. He felt as if he could run a marathon and then build her a house with his bare hands.
“I’ll be back,” she whispered. Then she and her grandmother mounted the steps to her apartment.
Trey sank down onto the curb beside his bike, glad for the L-shaped bend in the building that afforded him a good view of Bethany’s door. Like one of those guardian dogs in Chinese folklore, he wouldn’t budge unless she beckoned.
He laced his hands together, arms propped on his knees, looking at the door that separated her from him.
He hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t wanted it. But now that it was within his grasp, what was he going to do?
Keep near to her. That’s all he could do. And when it ended—because it would—he’d be emptier and more alone than he ever had been before.
It was a thought that didn’t bear thinking, so he emptied his mind and resumed his guard duty.
Time passed. The sunshine was warm, and the breeze was light, and the sound of a nearby bee was a calming, humming drone in his ears. It was the kind of afternoon that was inherently peaceful, the kind of time that made it easy to imagine lying back on the warm, green grass and closing his eyes.
But Trey’s gaze didn’t waver from Bethany’s door. Which was how he was able to react so quickly.
A muffled shriek of pure rage rent the quiet afternoon air. Trey was on his feet before the door opened with a bang.
“It’s mine!” The shriek contained words this time, and Bethany’s grandmother was doing the screaming. “Let go!”
Bethany had something clutched to her chest, and she was trying to leave her apartment, but Grandma lunged at her, throwing her against the balcony railing.
“Ah!” Bethany cried out as Grandma clawed at her arm, trying to get at whatever Bethany held so tightly.
Trey was sprinting toward the steps, but Bethany’s grip failed before he could mount them. She dropped it, both she and her grandmother grabbing for it as it fell.
A split-second decision made, Trey sidestepped and reached up.
He snatched the object before it could hit the ground. Opening his palm, he looked at it. A heart-shaped gold medal with a purple ribbon affixed at its top lay in his hand. He flipped it over.
FOR MILITARY MERIT. SSGT HUGH JERNIGAN, USMCR.
He looked up. Bethany was staring down at him, her eyes suspiciously bright, but her grandmother was already sprinting down the stairs toward him.
“Give that to me! It’s mine!”
Trey raised the Purple Heart in his fisted hand, straight up into the air. Bethany’s grandmother stretched for it, but there was no way she could ever reach it. “This isn’t yours. You need to leave now.”
“Give that to me! Thief! That’s mine, it’s my Marine, you don’t have any claim to it!”
Bethany had arrived at the bottom of the stairs by then. Sidestepping Grandma, Trey reached over and grabbed Bethany’s hand in his free one.
“Let’s go,” he said, striding toward his bike. Bethany hurried after him, climbing behind him and locking her arms around his waist. He jammed the medal in his pocket and cranked the engine.
“Come back here! I’ll report this!” Grandmother was howling with rage, her face nearly purple as she grabbed for the bike’s handlebars.
“Hang on,” he yelled to Beth and kicked the bike into gear. Tires squealing, they peeled out of the lot.
Moving quickly, keeping an eye on his mirrors, Trey wound through the buildings of the apartment complex. Once he was certain they were out of sight of Grandma, he pulled over and freed the spare helmet from his saddlebag.
“Put that on so we can get out of here.”
She didn’t answer, just did as he asked. A heartbeat later, her arms were around him again, and they were off.
Trey’s gaze was locked on the road ahead. The woman he wanted to protect more than anything was on his bike behind him. Her shuddering breaths indicated she was crying. Something incredibly precious to her was in his pocket, having narrowly escaped being stolen from her.
Cold rage suffused his limbs.
He’d be tempted to commit murder if anyone ever hurt Bethany like this again.
And it was then that he knew—
He loved her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
There on the back of Trey’s bike, comforted by the fact that no one could see her, Bethany gave way to her tears.
She was probably getting the back of his T-shirt wet. Gripping him tighter, she gave a shuddering sob.
Why did she still let that woman hurt her this way? When would she learn that her grandmother only ever cared about one person—herself?
But that promise shackled her to the woman. Her father had imprisoned her, and it wasn’t like she could ask him to relinquish her from the deal.
Dad was gone. And he wouldn’t ever be coming back.
The disastrous meeting with her grandmother had revealed plenty—and none of it good.
Bethany drew in a deep breath. It smelled like Trey: clean, lovely man. It smelled like safety, like excitement, like laughter and sunshine and protection and—
Her eyes flew open.
And love.
He hadn’t hesitated. He’d caught her father’s medal before it could hit
the pavement. He’d kept it from her grandmother and whisked her away from the confrontation. He knew what she needed without her having to say it.
It had been coming for a while, but now, with what had just happened, she couldn’t deny it.
She loved Trey Harding.
Squeezing him tighter, she pressed her cheek to his back, the strap of his motorcycle helmet biting into her skin with the pressure.
There, on the back of his bike, she could hold him with all the love in her heart. She could show her feelings without fear of repercussions. Because she was fairly certain if Trey knew that she loved him, he’d run scared.
She didn’t want to be planning Sarah’s wedding. She wanted to be planning her own. With him.
But Trey wasn’t the marrying type. She was fairly certain that getting him to admit they were in a relationship was as far as he’d ever willingly go.
God. How hopeless.
All she could do was hang on and hope that he’d eventually feel about her the way she felt about him. And that maybe he could be the settling-down type later on.
She opened her eyes.
They’d been driving who the hell knew how long. The sun had sunk to the very edge of the horizon, a fat, orange ball flaring brightly before sinking behind the earth.
A sharp, familiar tang met her nostrils, and she lifted her head to smell again.
Was that—salt water?
“Trey, where are we?” She yelled the question to be heard over the whipping wind and the growling engine.
“You’ll see,” he said, rounding a curve and pointing.
A long bridge rose in front of them, spanning a large expanse of water. The tires vibrated with each thump over the bridge segments, and Bethany stared in wonder at the swirling waters of the sound below.
He’d driven her to the beach. They’d been on the road for three hours because he’d been bringing her here.
She rested her forehead against his back and resisted the urge to cry again.
How could she hide what he made her feel?
Fifteen minutes later, he pulled off the two-lane highway and onto a public beach access road. This late in the day, it was deserted.
The engine cut, and the sudden quiet was almost stunning.
Trey got off the bike, then turned around to help Bethany. It was then she realized that her legs were sore as all hell.
“Ow.” She winced as she stood and stretched.
“Longest you’ve ever ridden, huh?”
She nodded as her fingers fumbled with the bike helmet strap. “I had no idea you were coming this far.”
His eyes flashed darkly. “Is it a problem? I should probably have asked you first.”
“No, it’s fine.” She set the helmet in the storage box he’d opened for it. He locked it and then laced his fingers through hers.
“Let’s go for a walk before it gets too dark.”
They crested the dune, and the sight of the churning, dark-gray waves nearly took her breath away.
It had been a long time since she’d made the trip down here to the Banks. In fact, it was one of the places that she felt closest to her father.
Bethany bit her lip as her feet sank into the shifting sand.
He’d loved it down here. They’d done a lot of fishing together as soon as he’d gotten stationed at Camp Lejeune. The tang of the salty air brought a host of bittersweet memories to the fore.
“Oh,” Trey said, suddenly reminding her that he was beside her. “You want this back, I’m sure.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew her father’s Purple Heart. She took it, curling her fingers around it. It was still warm from his body heat.
“I’ll trade you,” she said and pulled his wristwatch from her pocket. He’d forgotten that he’d left it in her bathroom, but he took it with a nod and slipped it back onto his arm.
“Thank you,” she added, rubbing her thumb across the engraved letters of her father’s name. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
“I knew it had to be important to you. That’s why I kept it away from her.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t just talking about the medal. I mean, all of this. The way you’ve helped me. The way you’ve stepped up to be there for me, when there really wasn’t anything in it for you.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear, the ocean breeze playing havoc with her blond tresses. “I appreciate it all. I appreciate you.”
She looked up into his eyes as he stepped forward, cupping her cheek in his hand.
“Bethany, I would do that a hundred times for you. I would do so much more.”
He tilted his head down slowly, inexorably, and she let her eyelids flutter closed. Feeling suffused her, heat and light and warmth and love filling her full, then overflowing.
Was this what it meant to be in love?
His lips captured hers, his arms surrounding her and pinning her close to the warmth of his body. His shoulders were so broad and strong as she gripped them, opening her mouth for his kiss.
Trey possessed her, touched her, kissed her like their lives depended on it.
And in that moment, for her, they did. If she didn’t have him, she couldn’t live. Not happily.
Having known the joy of his touch, life without him would be empty and not worth living.
Heaven help her if she had to try to be without him ever again.
A sudden gust of wind blew her hair around them, and Trey pulled her even closer. Their bodies were aligned, legs and hips and chests and mouths. Hands and arms. Skin to skin.
Heart to heart. At least she hoped.
Slowly, lingeringly, he broke their kiss. In the dim twilight, he looked into her eyes.
“Come on, Strong Girl. Let me walk you down the beach. You need to stretch your legs after that long ride.”
She wanted to protest. She wanted to kiss him some more. She wanted him to lay her down in the sand and be with her.
She laced her fingers through his and let him take care of her.
“Okay,” she said with a smile.
For now, with her tall, burly, tattooed protector beside her, this was enough.
He was enough.
* * *
Trey walked with Bethany along the beach until the moon was reflected in the crashing waves.
He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking when he nosed his bike eastward.
No, he knew.
They’d both needed a place away from the chaos of their present. Away from Bethany’s nightmare thief of a grandmother, away from the drama and danger of the Shadows’ territorial dispute, away from the planning and stress of the impending wedding.
There, on the shadowy coast, were only him, and her.
Her hand was slender and cool in his, and he squeezed it slightly, trying to warm it in his grip. She gave a little shiver.
“I’m sorry. You’re cold.”
“A little,” she said, wrapping her arm through his and tucking herself closer into his side. “The wind coming off the ocean is cool.”
“Let’s get out of here,” he said and led her back to the small sand-covered parking lot. His bike was the only vehicle there.
He handed her the spare helmet and grabbed his. She looked a little wan as she buckled the strap beneath her chin.
“I don’t know if I can stand another three hours on the back of the bike tonight.”
“We can get a hotel and go back tomorrow.”
“I’ll split the cost,” Bethany said as he mounted his bike. He reached out a hand to help her on.
“I’ve got it. I brought you out here, so it’s my treat.”
He cranked the engine, cutting off any argument she may have given him, and nosed his bike onto the highway.
The road was dotted with hotels and r
entals. It was just a matter of finding one with a vacancy. And, this early in the season, that wasn’t too difficult.
The Days Inn was clean, nearby, and thankfully had a room with a king-size bed available.
Bethany didn’t say a word, but he’d noticed the wry little smile she gave at his request of the front desk clerk.
What? He wasn’t about to spend a night in a hotel crowded into one of those double beds if he didn’t have to. No matter what beds were available, he’d be in hers, guaranteed.
He’d thought she’d been about to take him down in the dunes earlier. The least he could do was provide her a comfortable bed if she was going to jump his bones.
And he sure as hell hoped she would jump his bones.
They made their way to the elevator and ascended to the third floor.
Trey’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He handed the room key to Bethany. “Check it out. I need to take this real quick.”
She nodded and went ahead to the room. Trey kept walking toward the window at the end of the hallway as he answered the call.
“Harding.”
“I’ve got some names,” Jameson said.
“Hit me.” Trey crossed his arms as Jameson gave his list.
Trey frowned as Jameson finished. “That’s it?”
“That’s where he went today. Once he left us, he went straight to Hampton’s. I think that’s where he’s getting his stash. If Hampton’s not cooking, I’m sure he’s distributing.”
“Hampton doesn’t have the brains to cook.”
“Lars and Rocco are going to take over tailing Rat. He’s holed up at the Morningside apartment complex right now, so we’re going to tag them in.”
Trey sighed. “Okay. Good work.”
“I want to go after Hampton.”
Trey’s eyebrows lowered. “No, not on your own.”
Jameson’s sigh was irritated. “Boss, Rat doesn’t know anything. It’s obvious he’s low on the totem pole. But Hampton—”
“Jameson, I didn’t stutter. Leave Hampton the hell alone for now. Go home and get some sleep. I’ll check in tomorrow.”
“Boss—”
But Trey had already pressed the end-call button.
He frowned as he rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin. None of them were big time. They were all penny-ante dealers, people who had been caught in the Shadows’ territory before, usually just dealing weed or X. A few times they’d been caught with something harder, and they’d gotten the rough side of Trey’s men. He’d thought they’d shrink away like garbage usually did when confronted with a bigger threat.