Officer in Pursuit

by Ranae Rose

Alicia bobbed in the water beside him, laughing.

  “That’s it.” Grey scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking and trying to glare in Liam’s direction. “You’re going down.” He turned to Kerry. “Kerry, come here – I need your help.”

  “What?” She was still blinking salt water out of her eyes.

  “C’mon, there’s only one way to settle this: chicken.”

  Visions of sitcom episodes where characters played chicken in pools avalanched through Kerry’s mind – those, and visions of Grey. His broad, muscled shoulders and what it would be like to sit on them, with his head between her thighs.

  There was no way in hell. Just no way.

  But Liam was already crouching down into the water so Alicia could climb onto his shoulders, and she was laughing, like it was all some fun game.

  Which was exactly what it was supposed to be, but Kerry couldn’t just hop on top of Grey – after all, who actually played chicken in real life?

  Grey held out a hand, beckoning her. “Come on, we can beat them – we’ll avenge you for real.”

  The water was calm, just gentle, rolling waves that undulated in shades of blue and green. One lapped against Grey’s shoulder, but he just grinned and shook off the water, waiting for her to come to him.

  “I’ve never played before,” she said. “We’ll probably lose.”

  Grey looked affronted. “With triceps like yours? No way. I know you’re stronger than you look.”

  His compliment left her feeling ridiculously giddy. As seawater lapped around her shoulders, she was actually tempted to give in for once – to stop being such a killjoy and let herself have fun. Even if it was just for a minute. She wasn’t the kind of person who’d normally find herself getting caught up in something so clearly goofy, and more than a little flirtatious, but…

  It might be nice to pretend.

  Alicia was already on top of Liam’s shoulders, grinning with her long legs tucked under his muscular arms. “C’mon Kerry – I’ve never played before either. We’re evenly matched.”

  Liam was less generous with his encouragement. “If you don’t want to play, fine, but since you suggested it, Grey, your team will lose by forfeiture.”

  Grey’s jaw dropped, and he met Kerry’s eyes, silently pleading.

  She took a deep breath, managing not to swallow any sea water, and took the plunge. She reached for his sun-warmed body, laid a hand on the powerful swell of muscle that was his shoulder. It was thrilling and awkward all at once, but she climbed up, faced her best friend above the rippling waves.

  Grey held onto her legs, and she felt a million feet tall – above the entire world, even though waves were hitting her toes. She’d always been small-framed, but there was no denying the strength it took for Grey to stand the way he was: like she weighed nothing at all. He stood easily, cut through the water. “Bring it on. We’re ready.”

  Kerry wasn’t so sure. She was reeling from the feel of his body beneath hers, all hard muscle that hadn’t been cooled in the slightest by the ocean water. He was big – a couple inches taller than Liam, and probably a good twenty pounds heavier. That helped make up for the fact that ordinarily, Alicia towered over Kerry.

  It happened fast – Grey and Liam moved forward, and Alicia reached for Kerry with a muted shriek of laughter.

  Kerry tangled arms with her, surprised at how secure she felt with Grey holding her legs against his chest. They struggled for a few seconds, and Alicia’s balance faltered. She attempted to right herself as she slipped to the left, but it was too late – Kerry gave her a gentle shove, and she plunged into the water.

  Liam pulled her to the surface, shot a rueful look at Grey and Kerry. “Best out of three.”

  “You’re on.” Grey answered immediately, then gave Kerry’s leg a squeeze. “Don’t show them any mercy. We got this.”

  “I won’t.” Her earlier case of nerves had ebbed away – mostly – the moment Alicia had hit the water. Now, she was immersed in the moment, glad it wasn’t over. Best out of three? A part of her wanted to stay up there all day.

  But she didn’t. Alicia knocked her down after the brief struggle that was Round 2, and she hit the water with a splash that was drowned out by Grey’s groan.

  He was still looking stricken when he grabbed one of her hands and pulled her toward the surface, toward him.

  Alicia was still high in the air, her hair glowing with a golden halo of sunlight. “Ha!”

  Liam was smirking.

  “Let them have their little moment of hope,” Grey said. “They’re going to be crushed here in a minute.”

  Climbing back up onto Grey’s shoulders wasn’t nearly as awkward as it had been the first time, even if it did send a volley of butterflies speeding through her stomach.

  Round 3 was a desperate battle of wills, punctuated by Alicia’s shrieking laughter and the guys’ splashing as they shifted to maintain balance. Kerry laughed too – couldn’t help it. Especially since she knew she was going to win. Alicia was a notorious klutz, and sitting on Liam’s shoulders didn’t save her from her own poor balance. After a breathless half a minute, she went tumbling into the sea.

  “Yes!” Grey did something like a victory lap through the water, still carrying Kerry on his shoulders. “Losers! Ha!”

  Kerry was breathless, victorious – for a moment, completely and ridiculously happy. Then an especially large wave rolled up on Grey and broke against his shoulder. The spray hit Kerry’s cheek and sent Grey into a coughing fit.

  His hold on her legs loosened, and she clambered down, slipping into the water.

  Already, she missed the heat and hardness of his body against hers. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, fine.” He coughed a little longer, rubbed water out of his eyes.

  Alicia and Liam were shaking with laughter.

  “How’s that victory treating you?” Liam asked. “Taste anything like salt water?”

  “Say what you want,” Grey replied, “it won’t change the fact that you lost.”

  They didn’t play again, but they did stay in the water. The sun kept shining, the waves kept rolling, and by the time they got out, it was because everyone was starving.

  As usual, Sasha had prepared a gluttonous spread that could’ve sustained the entire beach. The coolers were with her and Henry, holding the corners of the beach blanket down.

  “Hey,” Sasha said as Kerry, Grey, Alicia and Liam approached, “no one said you guys were planning to play chicken.”

  “We didn’t know you were interested,” Alicia said, opening a cooler full of sweet tea, water and soda on ice.

  Sasha made a huffing sound. “It’s like you don’t even know me. For future reference, I want to be included in any game that gives me an excuse to get wet while sitting on Henry’s shoulders.”

  The bottom dropped right out of Kerry’s stomach, and her face was suddenly on fire. She reached blindly into the cooler full of drinks and grabbed the first cold thing she touched. Then she hid her face behind the can, knowing full well that she was the only one truly embarrassed by what Sasha had said.

  Everyone else was used to the things that came out of her mouth.

  “Kerry!” Sasha rounded on her, her blonde ponytail whipping the air. “Do my eyes deceive me, or are you drinking soda?”

  Everyone stared.

  The burning in Kerry’s cheeks intensified, and she could only hope they’d mistake it for sunburn. She always went for bottled water, hadn’t had soda in ages. “Everything in moderation,” she said, flipping back the tab on her Dr. Pepper.

  The sweet burn of it on her tongue was an alien flavor she hadn’t tasted in years. It was oddly exhilarating, much like their water games had been.

  She couldn’t blame Sasha for being surprised. Today – for just one afternoon – she felt like a different person. And although she knew it couldn’t last, she liked it.

  CHAPTER 3

  Grey’s swim shorts were too small. He realized tha
t now.

  They were his usual size, but when he’d bought them he hadn’t accounted for the extra space his perma-hard-on from hell would take up. There was no question about it: positioning himself so that his dick wasn’t the first thing people noticed about him was an art form.

  It’d started in the water. Kerry had climbed up onto his shoulders, wrapped her legs around him and sent most of his blood rushing below his belt. With waves lapping around his waist, it hadn’t been a big deal. The hardness had lingered after their game of chicken though, prompting him to linger in the water, swimming in an attempt to exhaust himself past the point of being able to maintain an erection.

  It hadn’t worked. At best, it’d taken him down to half-mast, and then he’d noticed that he could see Kerry’s nipples poking against her swimsuit when the fabric was wet.

  He’d been doomed from there on out.

  Now, he moved stiffly – pun intended – as he helped pack up the group’s beach stuff. The sky was streaked bright pink, the color of evening spreading over the Atlantic. It was a pink like the inside of a seashell, tinged neon by the setting sun.

  Grey hefted a cooler into a position that conveniently blocked his crotch from sight.

  “Need a hand?” Kerry was right beside him.

  “No, I got this.” He flashed her a smile, tried and failed not to look at her chest.

  Her swimsuit was dry. Damn it. But there was so much of her that was so beautiful that he kept staring anyway, forgetting all about the sunset. It was nothing compared to her.

  She turned away to pick up a bag full of disposable utensils and paper plates.

  Grey watched her go, walking behind her. She’d tied a sarong around her hips, but it didn’t disguise the graceful shape of her body.

  They loaded the picnic supplies into the back of Henry’s blue Dodge Ram, which was parked by the boardwalk. Liam and Henry lifted the other coolers in, and Alicia and Sasha handled the blankets and a couple chairs. When everything was packed, the only remaining sign of their presence on the beach that day was footprints in the sand.

  The group’s other vehicles – including Grey and Kerry’s cars – waited in spaces surrounding Henry’s truck. Grey looked at the vehicles, then at Kerry. Eventually, he shifted his gaze to the pier that stretched out into the water, weather-worn timber standing high above the rolling waves, framed by the neon sunset. Still no clouds in the sky – just the water and all that brilliant color, like a painting rolling and shimmering around them.

  “Hey.” He turned to Kerry, not ready to let the moment or the opportunity slip away. “Want to walk out onto the pier and watch the sunset?”

  He felt strangely nervous as he waited for her reply. The day had kicked ass – having breakfast with Kerry alone, and then feeling her legs wrapped around his shoulders, all sun-warmed skin and slim muscle. He still wasn’t sure how he’d pulled that one off. Surely, after all that, watching the sunset together wouldn’t be a huge deal.

  During the day, he’d felt her walls come down just a little. He liked what he’d seen beyond them.

  Maybe he was greedy, but he wanted to see more, wanted to be more to her. He wasn’t ready to let the day go yet.

  Her gaze locked with his and sent a little electric bolt through the center of his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “I have to go.”

  * * * * *

  September was fading fast, but summer was lingering in the form of long, rainy days and humid heat. Kerry’s hair was sheet-straight, completely devoid of any tendency to curl, but even she had battled a hint of frizz that morning. She’d smoothed her hair back into a ponytail, where it would be out of the way as she worked.

  The light rain and accompanying fog cast the Wisteria Plantation House and its grounds in shades of grey. Kerry marched over the slick grass, shoes squeaking against freshly-mown blades. She carried her purse under one arm, held the lightest of hooded sweaters shut over her shirt as she made her way toward the historic mansion. It was ghost-white in the brooding fog, its porch columns rising out of the mist as they had been for the better part of 200 years.

  The yard was deserted, overnight guests, visitors and employees driven indoors by the weather.

  Still, Kerry wasn’t alone.

  The same mist that clung to her cheeks eddied around a figure in front of the porch, toward the right. She stood in the same place each morning, as predictable as the rising sun. A familiar figure in white that blended with the fog, she was dark-haired and bare-headed, a beauty exposed to the elements that couldn’t touch her. The Lady in White. Elizabeth.

  Kerry liked to think of her by her name. Not as a legend or someone who’d been dehumanized by the nature of her death and the many years gone by, but a woman who had lived and loved and had had it all torn brutally away from her. A person, just like anyone else … even if she had been dead for well over a century.

  Kerry stared, just for a second. She always did – never quite got used to seeing someone who wasn’t supposed to be a part of this world anymore. It was an incredible thing – so incredible that she’d never told a soul. These quiet, otherworldly moments were only hers and Elizabeth’s.

  She climbed the porch stairs, leaving Elizabeth behind. It was strange that she imagined an emotional connection between herself and Elizabeth Jewell. She knew that. But the woman – the spirit – had watched her walk into the Wisteria Plantation house every day for the past three years.

  Truth was, Elizabeth was the most steadfast facet of Kerry’s existence. The one thing she could count on, no matter what. And that terrified her, because anyone even passingly familiar with the plantation’s history and legends would know exactly what that meant.

  * * * * *

  “You look like you just bit into a crabapple,” Sasha said, spearing a bite of cucumber salad and waving it at Kerry. A couple toasted sesame seeds flew off the slice of cucumber and bounced onto the corner table in Harvest at Wisteria, the restaurant where Sasha was head chef.

  Kerry, Sasha and Alicia all ate lunch there every day they worked. Today, they were all there, occupying a table in the otherwise empty restaurant – it was later than most people ate lunch, and earlier than most ate dinner. Which meant that Sasha would probably let her mouth run unchecked.

  “I’m fine,” Kerry said, taking a bite of her own salad. Sasha liked to cook what she called ‘healthy stuff’ for Kerry’s lunch sometimes. Kerry accepted the kind gesture, even if light dishes like cucumber salad were usually accompanied by things that had been drowned in questionable amounts of butter.

  Like the platter of shrimp Sasha had brought out for the three of them to share.

  “Bullshit,” Sasha said. “You’re down in the dumps and have been ever since yesterday evening. We all heard you tell Grey you wouldn’t watch the sunset on the pier with him, remember? Either you’re just sadistic, or something’s got you down.”

  “I’m not sadistic.” The accusation stung. Did her friends really think she was the type to toy with someone’s feelings on purpose?

  “Well, you spent all day with Grey, rode him through the water like a show pony and then gave him the cold shoulder at sundown. That was pretty mean.”

  Kerry frowned. She hadn’t thought of it that way. Had Grey?

  “Did you see his face?” Sasha continued. “When you turned him down after all that, he looked like a little kid who’d just dropped his ice cream on the sidewalk.”

  “Okay.” Kerry dropped her fork. “I get it. At the time though, I didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

  “Why didn’t you want to watch the sunset with him?” In another life, Sasha could’ve been a police interrogator. “You obviously had a great time yesterday, and then it was like a switch flipped. Did I miss something?”

  “I just…” Kerry picked up her fork again, then set it down. It clanked against the side of her plate, the one full of salad she’d barely tasted.

  How could she explain to Sasha and Alicia? She coul
dn’t tell them about the man she’d seen strolling the beach the day before – the one who’d looked so much like him at first glance.

  At second glance, he’d been ten years too old, a couple inches too short. But the damage had been done by then – she’d been reminded of who she really was, of why goofing around with Grey at the beach was an exercise in futility.

  When he’d asked her to watch the sunset with him, she’d panicked.

  “I was having cramps,” she eventually said. “My period started yesterday and the ibuprofen I’d taken that morning wore off. By the time we left I was miserable.”

  Sasha and Alicia both groaned, Alicia reaching out to pat Kerry’s hand.

  The lie burnt in the pit of Kerry’s stomach like a chemical fire.

  “That sucks,” Sasha said. “You should’ve said something – I keep a few pills in my purse.”

  Kerry shrugged. “It would’ve been hard to pull you aside with the guys around. I just wanted to get home.”

  Though the lie left a bad taste in her mouth, it had rolled off her tongue so easily. This was who she was: a person who’d lie to her best friends to keep them from catching a glimpse of the mountain of secrets she was sitting on.

  “Poor you,” Alicia said. “And poor Grey. You know he had no idea – guys never think of stuff like that.”

  Kerry shifted in her seat, no longer hungry even though she adored Sasha’s soy-wasabi cucumber salad. As she took a sip of her water, it cooled her burning insides and the truth struck her: no one truly knew her. Not even her best friends.

  The other women looked at her with sympathy, oblivious to her deceit. Diamonds glittered on their hands, reminding everyone that they were loved. Kerry’s heart cracked as she marveled at their openness, their inexhaustible capacity to care – what honest and truly likeable human beings they were.

  Yesterday she’d granted herself a few hours’ pass, had pretended to be someone she wasn’t. Those hours had shown her herself in a way she hadn’t anticipated, had opened her eyes to who she’d really become.