Probably was a good thing she wouldn’t be around for long.
“Hul-lo, sweetie darling,” she murmured with a moue to some rich bitch who raised a brow at the low cleavage of Quinn’s bikini on her way into the resort.
“Is talking to yourself part of your gig?” a woman asked.
Quinn glanced out from under the wide brim to see a grinning Willow waiting for her where the drive met the beach.
“Sometimes, it’s my only shot for intelligent conversation,” she joked.
“I heard that. Headed to the beach? I’ll walk you,” Willow offered when Quinn nodded. “You should set yourself up in one of the resort’s lounge chairs. Most of the wedding guests are either getting ready or sleeping off last night’s party.”
“Hey, it’s not a real party until somebody jumps into the pool,” Quinn quipped.
“That’s not quite the reputation we want the Washington elite to go home with. Fortunately, the bride and the groom, and more importantly their parents, left before the wet and wild portion of the evening. I’m so glad Luke hired more guys than we usually need, especially those two SEALs. One of them pulled that blitzed bridesmaid out of the pool. Did you see it?”
That was a less-that-subtle cast. “I’m guessing you already know I was married to one of those SEALs. For the record, not the pool boy.”
Willow shot her a small smile. “My husband, Nick, is a SEAL too. Unfortunately, he was injured on his last mission. Lost his hearing in one ear. Rather than take a desk job, he retired.”
“Wow. That sucks big time. Is he…okay now?”
“His hearing returned, thank God. It was Nick who hooked your ex and his friend up with Luke for the work this weekend. They’re certainly very…capable.”
“I’ve decided they’re bred that way. Or there’s some homing beacon in their DNA that signals ‘badass in training’ to relevant parties while they’re in diapers.”
“Were you two married long?”
“Felt like a hot minute, but it lasted six months.” She didn’t mention being the one who ended it. That would require knowing Willow for more than one day and a whooooole lotta tequila. “Been a year since we’ve seen each other.”
Willow whistled. “Hel-lo drama.”
“Boy. Howdy.”
“Any chance for a reconciliation?” Quinn shot her a look and Willow hurried to soothe the suddenly charged atmosphere by admitting, “Now I am prying, and tactlessly too, which must seem even more intrusive after you’ve bailed us out. We’re gluttons for good gossip, I’m afraid, and your ex is hot.”
Quinn had to smile. Willow obviously meant well. Quinn wasn’t used to bearing her soul to a next-to-near stranger simply because they shared the same parts. Where she came from, a woman kept her secrets private. On the commune, you did not want to be overheard expressing disloyalty or, worse, independent thought.
They reached the end of the shaded, sandy path. The line of lounge chairs stretched across the width of the beach area about ten feet from their position. Most were empty as Willow had guessed, and Quinn greeted the sight of such solitude with a sigh of relief.
She’d had a one big, emo morning. This was the perfect way to recharge her batteries and brace for the next wave.
But first she had to ease Willow off without being rude about it, or her safe haven at Casa Blanca would be over before she was ready to run.
Quinn open her mouth to give Willow the assurances she thought the woman was looking for, but Willow surprised her by cutting Quinn verbally off at the pass. “I’ll be honest with you, ’kay? There’s no way you could know this, but Gussie and Ariel and I, we once had a pact that we would each never marry. We’ve seen too much in our business, too many bridezillas and their equally terrifying mamas. Too many happily-ever-afters that barely lasted long enough for the thank you cards to get into the mail. None of us wanted that horror for ourselves. But, I kid you not, once we started Barefoot Brides—I dunno, Ariel believes there’s magic here at Casa Blanca, and I gotta say, I’d be hard pressed to say she’s wrong. One by one, we each found the loves of our lives. Even my parents, whose marriage defines drama, came here to renew their vows on their anniversary, because it’s special that way.”
“I know.” Willow gave her a suspicious look from the corner of one eye. “Sorry, should’ve said from the start that I’m a gossip whore. Can’t get enough of the stupid magazines. They’re totally my crack, so I saw the entire spread on your parents.”
“So, you knew who I was already when we met yesterday.”
“That your father is the front man for the legendary Z Train rock band?” Quinn shrugged, unembarrassed. “Guilty. But I needed the job and didn’t think you’d appreciate me pumping you for information on your parents like some crazy fangirl.”
“Don’t worry. When it comes to fan craziness, Nick, beats you by a mile. He’s such a fan of my father’s music, his tattoo is one of the album covers.”
“And you still married him?”
Willow’s soft smile turned wicked at the ends. “He’s made up for it. And then some.” Sobering, she laid a gentle hand on Quinn’s arm. “I have no idea what’s between you and your ex-husband. But all Ariel could talk about this morning at Eucalyptus, while the wedding party was pinkie toe deep in pedicures and massages, was how your Jasper interrupted her and Luke at a very awkward moment. He was frantic—Ariel’s word—to find out where you were staying on the island.
“Ariel’s a big believer in the universe speaking to people, so when Luke told her how you and your husband both showed up here at the same time, totally random happenstance, no one was going to convince her that you two aren’t meant to be. Luke didn’t even try to stop her from telling Jasper where to find you, and I can see by that lovely blush that you had a good night when he did.” She clapped her hands together. “I’m so pleased. Ariel will spin in place when she hears this.”
Quinn’s head was the thing spinning at the moment. Jasper, frantic? Never. “Ah, I don’t want you to get your hopes up…”
Willow waved a hand in front of her face. “No, no. You’re not.” She took a deep breath and Quinn appreciated when she dialed back the cheery vibe. “Good things happen for people here. They did for us, not only with our guys, but even with you somehow being here right when we needed you. Good things happen,” she repeated. “Whatever’s going on between you and Jasper, they can happen for you too.”
The prick of tears burned in the back of Quinn’s eyes. Quickly, she slipped her oversized sunglasses on, but it took her another moment before she trusted her voice. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” she finally managed. It was that appreciation that pushed Quinn to share more. “But there’s a lot of bad stuff between Jasper and I, some I’m responsible for, some that’s his. We’re not reconciling. We’re…getting closure.” She forced a grin and added a bit of cheek to give Willow something to take back to her friends. “By having a lot of amazing sex.”
Willow laughed, but Quinn relaxed more when she saw the woman was not going to push it further. “I’ll be sure to add that to my report. Moving on to business things, do you have everything you need for this afternoon?”
Quinn nodded. “What ingredients you didn’t have should’ve arrived in the order from Naples this morning. Clancy added them to his last-minute list for Junonia.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to what you come up with. That Malibu Breeze you made me was out of this world.”
“Wait till you taste my Pink Panty Pulldown.”
Willow’s eyes widen. “Maybe we should put railings up around the pool,” she muttered, and Quinn chortled.
“And with that, I’m gonna leave you, given I’ve only got two hours to bake like the rich and shameless before I need to set up.”
“Think about what I said,” Willow gently urged as Quinn struck out for a lounge chair far enough from the pathway to best ensure she wouldn’t be disturbed. She waved back at her and squelched a flare of annoyance at Will
ow’s persistence. She meant well, but didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Whatever may have happened in the fairy tale romances of the Barefoot Brides, she and Jasper weren’t like that. Casa Blanca was gorgeous, no question, and Quinn would even admit to enjoying her time in its sunny bubble far more than she’d expected to when she followed her gut to the question-mark-shaped island.
But she couldn’t even begin to wrap her mind around the idea of a frantic Jasper. Not Mister Responsibility. Mister Always-Prepared-To-Invade-A-Moderately-Sized-Country. And the idea that such frenzy was over her…if that were true, then he wouldn’t have let her go in the first place. He would’ve come after Quinn. She’d waited at that skeevy motel in San Diego longer than she’d planned hoping he would suddenly show up, all strapping male and stubborn Jasper, and refuse to let her go.
But he hadn’t.
So, she went.
There’d be no happy ending here for her and Jasper. All she could hope for was a few nights of happy for now.
Until she ran into the big messy ending that was no doubt headed Quinn’s way.
* * *
Music piped out onto the beach from strategically placed speakers in the scattered palms and bushes at the top edge of the beach. Jasper took a moment to stare out at the gentle waves buffering the gulf beach, a far cry from the rough surf of Coronado that could rip a man to shreds or toss him on the rocky barriers that made the area so perfect for training commandos. Gentle might not be his preferred theatre, but the advantage for tourists didn’t escape him either.
He breathed the salt air in deep and felt a familiar sense of rightness settle in his chest. Wherever he went, the water always called to him. Lake, river, or ocean, he gravitated to all forms almost without conscious thought. It made Vegas an unusual choice for a weekend away last year, but Twist had insisted, probably hoping Jasper would make use of that city’s legalized prostitution to relieve some job stress before their next deployment. Jasper had gone to shut him up, figuring he could gamble some, catch a show, hook up if the right now woman showed up. Twist should’ve known he wasn’t the kind of man to pay for it, or worse, be one in a line.
Then he’d met Quinn and their wild Vegas romance changed his life for good.
Not surprisingly, there weren’t a lot of people enjoying the late morning by the water. According to McBain’s briefings, Casa Blanca was nearly at full capacity accommodating the wedding party’s family and high-profile guests. Several of the late arriving heavy hitters were staying in nearby Naples, but thankfully, none of those were under McBain’s detail. Jasper had no desire to be a causeway’s distance from Quinn.
A flash of red to the left caught his eye. Jasper shaded his eyes to better make out the woman occupying one of Casa Blanca’s generous beach loungers. Or, more exactly, he made out the hat, big enough to cover the top of the lounger and wrapped in the dark red ribbon that had caught his eye.
That had to be Quinn.
He struck off in her direction, amused to see she’d set herself up far away from where any other beach-goers might want to intrude. That was his Quinn, happiest when alone in a crowd unless she was performing for it.
Jasper frowned. His Quinn? Twist would have a field day with that slip.
He rounded the end of her lounger on silent feet, careful to keep his shadow from falling across the chair. He quietly ducked his head to glance under the hat brim. She wore sunglasses, but her lack of reaction told him her eyes were shut. The edges of her soles were pressed to the thick blue cushion bending her knees right. Jasper eased onto the edge of her lounger behind her knees with such expert stealth, she didn’t even notice his added weight.
The music changed and Jasper watched as Quinn’s hips moved seemingly of their own accord when the baseline for “Tracks of My Tears” started to thump across the sand. “Nothin’ like the classics,” she murmured before singing along with the Miracles. Her voice was a pleasant, round alto, and for a moment, Jasper felt the same steady touch of rightness that only the water had called from him before.
Then he got a good look at her bikini.
He wasn’t sure there was enough material to it to merit the name.
She’d gone for dark red again in a low-cut, halter-neck top that tied behind her neck and at her bra line behind her back, but the edge of the straps barely covered her nipples and left more than half her breasts exposed to the eyes of any who looked. Her sun-kissed skin glistened with suntan oil. She’d been out here long enough to glow. He glanced down to find the bikini briefs too tied off in straps on either side of her curvy hips but left the wide expanse of her belly exposed from the bottom of her tits to the top edge of her pelvic bone.
Jasper took a minute to resist the urge to rip the large beach towel out from behind her head and cover her from head to toe. She’d cause a ruckus for sure, and he’d rather rile her up a different way. At the moment, there was no one else on the beach to take in a view that should have been his alone. And he knew better than to try to force Quinn to do anything she didn’t want to.
She’d picked out this suit deliberately, he was sure of it, and he decided in that second to stifle his possessive instinct and simply take pride in the physical attributes of his hot ex-wife.
Besides, not reacting as she expected him to would throw Quinn off her game.
The idea was enough to move Jasper back to being amused when Quinn finally opened her eyes and greeted his arrival with a shriek. He leaned over and took advantage of her open mouth to kiss her deep with ample use of his tongue.
“Hiya, gorgeous,” he said once he had her moaning.
“Is this some kind of guerrilla tactic, scaring me to death?”
He grinned. “You look like the cover of a beach read. I didn’t want to mess that up.”
She relaxed back into the lounger. “‘Beach read.’ Heh. That sounds funny coming out of the mouth of a badass poster boy.”
“I live in an oceanside town, babe. I know all the lingo.” His dropped his nose to her neck and down to her shoulder where he inhaled the strong scent of coconut. “You’ve gone all girlie.”
Her hand cradled the back of his skull. “I don’t live my life in bar clothes,” she chided, but it was the thread of hurt that made him raise his eyes to hers. “That’s just the only time we seem to be in the same room together, when I’m working. Unless it’s a bedroom.”
She wasn’t wrong, but it was the uncharacteristic reveal that furrowed Jasper’s brow. To say Quinn wasn’t big on sharing was an understatement.
Find out why she left in the first place and fix it.
Damn, but Twist was a good shrink.
He dipped his scruff-covered chin to rasp against the soft flesh revealed by her bikini. “I see you’ve been shopping.”
“I splurged,” she admitted.
His mouth to hovered above the edge of fabric and followed the invisible line down to treasure, licking once so his tongue slipped under to touch her rising nipple.
“Jasp,” she breathed. “We can’t out here. Someone might see us.”
“Nobody could look at you in this suit and feel anything but jealous that I’m the man who gets to be right here.” He reached up to tugged up the personal awning attached at either side of the back of the lounger. “Don’t worry baby,” he promised, slipping one panel of the bikini to the side to expose her quivering breast. “I’ll cover you.”
The tang of coconut exploded on his tongue as he sucked her breast in his mouth, toying the nipple with his teeth until her fingers clenched in his hair the way he knew her pussy would clench down on his fingers when he got them inside her in about five seconds. He wanted to taste her again, but that would be too much exposure and, no matter what he’d said, Jasper wasn’t about to let her put on a free show.
He bypassed the knots at her hips—knots loose enough, he noticed, to make him wonder how she’d walked down without mooning the entire beach.
Looked like someone had been waiting for him to do exact
ly this.
Jasper slid his fingers under the small band. “Already so wet for me,” he grunted.
“All I need is the sound of your voice,” she confessed.
Possessive heat flooded his chest and his grip on her tightened as Jasper bit down on her neglected nipple. “How fast can you go over, wildcat? How quick can I make you come?”
She dragged his head up from her breast and kissed him, fingers digging into his cheeks so hard, it almost hurt. “Let’s find out,” she urged against his lips. “More Jasper. Give me more of you.”
“Anything you want, baby,” he promised. “Everything you need.”
Jasper pulled away, ignoring her wordless objection, and lifted her leg up and over his head so it stretched across his knees. He let her feel his hard dick against her thigh while he worked her, filling her with two fingers as he played with her clit and whispered filthy words in her ear about how good she felt and how much he wanted her and how he couldn’t wait to be inside her again. He braised her sensitive nipple with the scruff she admired only hours before and wildly vowed never to shave again when she keened with pleasure. “Oh Jasp, I’m gonna go,” she warned, but he knew it already as her hungry pussy milked his fingers on every thrust, clamping down as release broke over her and she chanted dontstopdontstopdontstop when he never wanted to leave the glory of this woman again.
He eased back on his rhythm as she came down, soothing where he’d primed her until she shuddered one last time and opened her eyes. Jasper didn’t smile—what he felt was too monumental for that. He held her eyes as he eased his hand away, then lifted it to smooth her essence over her lips before taking her mouth with his.
Her arms wrapped tight around his neck, fingers spearing up again into his hair as she licked herself from their lips before slipping her tongue inside his mouth to share the flavor.
And in that moment, Jasper knew it didn’t matter if Quinn shattered him again when she left. He’d take being half a man without her to have this moment, his own precious piece of wild by the sea.
Barefoot Bay: Wild on the Rocks (Kindle Worlds) Page 13