Chapter Thirty-five
The water blazed with the reflection of our dancing bonfire. I lay back, grinding sand into my salty hair, plastering it against my skin, which was bare except where my gold bikini covered it. If I closed my eyes just right, the stars became the trail of a sparkler waved across the night sky to light the moon. And if I closed my eyes completely, the effects of an afternoon drinking champagne shot off Roman Candles inside my eyelids. The world on fire, inside and out.
I sat up for another sip of champagne. The bubbles tickled the roof of my mouth, and the liquid left a trail of dryness across my tongue. I sank into my buzz, and it was like floating on my back in the warm ocean; the salt water supporting me, the waves lapping at my feet, the surge of the surf pushing me along in gentle spurts of forward progress. Bart had sprung for the good stuff, and a lot of it. We’d almost drained his case of Möet today. But then, we had been working at it for nearly ten hours.
The beach day would have ended a lot sooner, but Bart had managed to supply a good explanation for the two hours he’d spent chopping veggies and driving around with Ava. He said that he’d assumed she was on an intel mission with my blessing, and he used the opportunity to pump her for information about me. He said she’d grilled him the whole time he was with her. That explained his actions, but not Ava’s decision to approach him sua sponte. Of course, Ava herself was the explanation for most of Ava’s actions. I sighed. I loved her to death, but her insatiable need to be the object of every man’s desire was hard to take, and I couldn’t help but think it would get her into trouble one of these days. I drained the last of the champagne from my blue Solo cup and nestled back into my sand pallet.
Just then, Emily snored, loud and glorious, and Oso echoed it. Ava laughed, a cross between a growl and a yelp. A few grains of sand sifted onto my face as she stood.
“I’m going to get in the water one more time,” she said.
More sand. Footsteps, receding. Rashidi following her, I thought.
More sand. Footsteps, three of them, coming closer. A body sank into the sand close to mine. Bart. I already knew him by smell. Sharp garlic, sunshine, and the last traces of Halston. I didn’t know anyone else who wore Halston anymore. The last time I’d smelled it was on my high school boyfriend. I liked it, though.
And then Bart’s head was in the sand, too. Beside mine, but not touching me. I kept my eyes closed.
“Are you asleep?” he whispered.
I paused. I could pretend. Or not. “No,” I answered.
“Good,” he said. His head was turned toward me. “I have a confession.”
I was no priest. Did I want to hear? Listening any longer promised something, didn’t it? I could stop him with a word.
He scooted closer, turned toward me, and came up on his elbow.
“Last night wasn’t the first time I’d seen you.”
That surprised me, and made me just a titch nervous. If he was a sociopathic stalker, he’d fooled me so far. I tensed, ready just in case.
“I was at the Porcus Marinus a few weeks ago, and you were doing karaoke there.” He spoke softly. “I was smitten. I went to get a drink while I planned what to say to you, and when I came back you were gone. I thought I’d never see you again.”
That didn’t sound stalkerish, thank God, although it was scary in a different way. “I was only here on vacation. You almost didn’t.”
“When I saw you at The Lighthouse, I was one happy man.” He closed his free hand around my wrist. “You have beautiful wrists and ankles. Delicate.”
Goose bumps rose on my arms. “Thank you.”
He released my wrist and began to trace my collarbone. “Elegant lines. Classic. Sexy.”
Hummingbirds took flight in my stomach. I wasn’t sure whether to end this now or to just let it play out. Maybe if I let it continue, it would wash Nick from my mind.
His fingertips touched my cheekbones, his thumb grazed my eyelids, and his lips closed over mine. Just one lingering kiss. My heart triple-timed. Things I wanted Nick to do. Shit. So far it wasn’t washing very effectively.
“I think you’re gorgeous. And I like you. I want to have an actual date, just you and me, without the entourage of protective friends.”
“They’re promoting this more than protecting me.” And whatever else it was Ava was up to.
“A little of both,” he said.
Laughter from the water. My eyes cut toward Ava and Rashidi. I could see their silhouettes in the moonlight. There was no air between the two of them. I was happy for Rashidi. They’d couple well, and I hoped that he could erase Guy and his death from her mind, and ease her need for other male attention. Ava broke free from his clench, but let him keep her hand. “Come, Rash, let we go.” She said it like “Rawsh,” with a slightly rolled “r.” They walked up the beach toward us.
I rolled out from under Bart’s face and sat up. “You guys ready to pack up?”
“Yah, it time,” Ava said. She wrapped a fringed white sarong around her waist and tied it, covering the bottom half of her hot-pink string bikini.
Bart said, “Rashidi, would you mind driving Katie’s truck? She’s had too much to drink, and I said I’d drive her home.”
What? Like no one saw through that one. Rashidi didn’t respond. Good man, I thought. I opened my mouth to protest, but Ava was already speaking. “I’ll drive Rash back up to Annalise, and Emily back to my place. No problem.”
“Ava,” I said sharply, but everyone ignored me.
Bart’s hand found the small of my waist. “You guys run along, then. We want to stay a little longer. We’re nearly packed already, and we can carry the rest out in one trip when we leave.”
Manipulation was fine as long as I was the manipulator. I wanted to stay, and I wanted to assert my will. How was I to have my cake and eat it, too?
“Sounds good,” Rashidi said.
Ava leaned over Emily. “Sleeping beauty, time to continue your nap in the truck.”
Emily yawned and stretched. Oso did the same. “I’ll just sleep here tonight, if you don’t mind.”
“Move your bana, sister,” Rashidi said. “Grab your towel and shoes and make for Katie’s truck.”
Emily stood up slowly. Oso jumped up, confused.
“It’s OK, boy. You’re staying here with me,” I said. I patted the sand beside me. “Sit.” He licked his lips, walked in a tight circle two times, then flopped back down on his belly. It wasn’t sitting, but close enough.
Rashidi, Ava, and Emily were moving away from us within a minute, following their shadows away from the fire toward the truck.
“That was smooth,” I said, keeping my face in profile to Bart. “What if I didn’t want you to drive me home?”
He reached his hand around the back of my neck and pulled my mouth to his. He kissed me long, deep, and slow, like no one had kissed me in years. I let him, for a few seconds.
“Bart?” I interrupted him.
“Hmm?” he asked lazily.
“I’m choosing to stay, but, for future reference, don’t do my thinking for me again.”
He looked at me intently. “I like how you said future reference.”
“I’m serious.”
He adopted a grunt-answering-to-an-officer tone. “Yes, ma’am. In the future I will not think for you.” He dropped the tone. “In the present, I am going to kiss you again.”
So he did, and he was a good kisser. The sand, the fire, the water, the champagne. All of it was lovely. No fireworks, but something warmed in the center of me. I leaned in and kissed him back. Then it was time to tap the brakes.
“Are you in a hurry to go?” he asked.
“It’s more that I’m not in a hurry to get to where you’re headed,” I answered.
He studied my face in the fireglow. He kissed me once more, but a kiss of finishing rather than beginning. “We don’t have to hurry.” He stood up, reached for my hand, and pulled me to my feet and into him, his other arm wrapping around me in a squeeze tha
t slid down my back and over my behind. “Although please don’t take my patience as a lack of interest. Because I’m very, very interested.” He released me, and the night air tickled my stomach where his bare skin had pressed into me moments before.
We rode back to Ava’s along the north shore with the windows down so we could drink in every last breath of the night jasmine and ocean air. Bart reached over the console and curled his fingers around mine, our hands resting on my thigh. I didn’t pull my hand away. I concentrated on all the things that were right about the moment and willed myself not to ruin it. This could be the start of something good for me. I could choose to be happy. I could choose a different path, an easier path. Bart hadn’t even flinched when I’d shared the story of the bees with the group that afternoon, including the appearance and disappearance of my ghostly friend. Not every man would take that in stride. Thinking about the bees reminded me that I had never followed up on my plan to find and fire Junior. Crap. Unfinished business for tomorrow.
Bart still had my hand in his when we pulled up the hill to Ava’s house. He made a hard right with just his left hand. Not an easy feat. I peered down the long driveway, then pulled my hand away. Oso sat up in the back seat. From a distance, it looked as if Ava was having a party. Lights were flashing against the night sky.
I sat up straighter. I rubbed my eyes and blinked. I counted cars. Too many? Or were my eyes playing tricks on me? “How many cars do you see, Bart?”
“Four,” he said. “Why?”
“I only expected to see my truck. Maybe my truck and Rashidi’s Jeep. And I don’t even see a Jeep. That flashing light isn’t right.”
We pulled closer. “They’re police cars,” Bart said.
~~~
Saving Grace (What Doesn’t Kill You, #1): A Katie Romantic Mystery Page 37