By the Book

by Kay Lyons

  He made it to where she was and wrapped his arm around her waist, floating her toward him. “Hey, you.”

  Her back met his chest and he dropped a kiss to her salty shoulder in the shallow water.

  “Hey.”

  “Having fun?”

  She turned to face him, her arms pushing against him so that she wasn’t so close.

  “Yeah.”

  “Claire? You okay?”

  “I’m fine. You?”

  Okay, something was definitely wrong. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

  “No, it’s not… It’s just Tommy is here and everyone is watching us. I feel like we’re under a microscope.”

  He supposed that was a consideration. “Were the girls grilling you on our relationship?”

  “And then some. It’s…awkward.”

  He knew the anger he felt wasn’t justified, but he wanted her not to care that he was who he was, or what her friends thought. “You know, we could always do long-distance.”

  She blinked her spiky wet eyelashes at his statement. “What?”

  “When I get reassigned. I get days off. You could fly out and visit me, or we could meet up somewhere halfway.”

  “Denz… I have a child. I’ll have a job—I’m selling my house and moving. I can’t…”

  “Yeah. Yeah, of course. It was just a thought because you said… Forget I mentioned it.”

  “I’m glad you did, it’s just that I can’t.”

  “I know. I’m going in.”

  “Denz—”

  He swam toward the shore and made his way to the towel spread out on the hot sand. They’d anchored the boat a ways out, and right now Carter took Tommy out on the Jet Ski, Marsali and Oliver swam, and the others walked the island, shell hunting.

  Water droplets hit him, and he opened his eyes to find Claire dropping down beside him on her stomach.

  “Please don’t be upset,” she said softly. “But I said from the beginning that I couldn’t handle your job. You know that about me, and once you go back and do what you do—”

  “I know. It’s okay.” Except it wasn’t. At some point, he’d started to care for Claire as more than a friend, and he’d like to see where their relationship could go, but when she wouldn’t even consider an attempt at compromise…

  “Denz, I have Tommy to consider. He’s already lost his father. I’ve already lost a husband. And then there’s the fact that…I’ve basically been a single parent most of Tommy’s life, and at that time, I signed up for it as a military spouse. But next time—when there is a next time—I don’t want that to be the case. I want a relationship and a co-parent and dinners together at the table.”

  “And that’s not something I can give you,” he said honestly. “Not regularly. I get it. I’m sorry, Claire.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  He inhaled and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand while he took in the sight of her, belly-down on the towel beside him. “This is lousy timing but…I passed my physical yesterday. I’m waiting on reassignment.”

  Had he not been watching her, he would’ve missed the way her entire body tensed. Her head was turned toward him but her eyes were closed. He reached out and stroked his fingertips down her arm, brushing the sand and water droplets away. “I should hear something any minute.”

  “Okay. Thanks f-for telling me.”

  Her voice sounded low, thready and thick with a hint of tears.

  He rolled onto his back and stared up at the blue sky overhead, the sound of the surf and the buzz of Jet Skis doing nothing to disguise the sniffle Claire couldn’t hide.

  Denz received news regarding his new assignment that evening.

  They’d returned from their outing and had just docked at the marina when his phone rang, and his expression told Claire exactly who it was and why they were calling.

  Denz walked away to talk privately while she and Tommy grabbed their bags and unloaded like everyone else. Carter helped her off the boat, and everyone stood somewhat awkwardly waiting on Denz to rejoin them.

  “Claire?” Marsali asked. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She felt Tommy’s gaze on her and forced a smile. “Hey, what are we eating tonight? All the fresh air and swimming has left me hungry.”

  Tommy shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  “We could all meet at Reels for dinner,” Marsali said. “Mac and V will be there since they just got back from their honeymoon.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of fast food on the way home to shower off the salt and sand,” Claire said. “Thanks, though.”

  “Yessir,” Denz said, his voice carrying on the breeze.

  “Oh. That sounds official,” Eliza said with a grimace.

  “He passed his physical,” Claire announced. “It’s…probably his new assignment.”

  “So soon?” Marsali asked.

  Denz turned and headed their way and everyone watched his approach.

  “Well? Where are you heading off to?” Claire said, forcing a lightness to the words and a brave face.

  Denz shoved his sunglasses atop his head as he joined them.

  “Miami. Tomorrow afternoon.”

  She’d promised her father she would work tomorrow because his regular guy needed a day off for a funeral. Maybe it was best.

  Claire murmured goodbye to the group and hugged the girls before she turned and headed toward the parking area.

  “Do you have to go?” Tommy asked from behind her.

  Claire kept walking, her heart in her throat as she eavesdropped on them.

  “Yeah, bud. I’m sorry. Orders are orders.”

  “You’re not in the military, though. Tell them you can’t go.”

  “It’s my job, Tommy. I have to go where I’m needed.”

  She yanked on the door handle only to discover it still locked and fought the urge to stomp her foot in frustration. She turned her back to them and waited impatiently on the beep.

  The moment it sounded, she grabbed at the door again and Denz’s hand closed over hers.

  “I’m sorry, Claire,” he said softly.

  She nodded. Because what else could she do? It wasn’t like she hadn’t known from the beginning that it would never be more than temporary. “Take me home, please.”

  The trip to her father’s house was made in total silence. Denz didn’t even turn on the radio as he made the turns and finally pulled into the driveway.

  Tommy bolted before the vehicle had fully stopped, and Claire felt like doing the same, though she sat there while Denz shut off the engine and turned toward her.

  “Claire.”

  She surged across the seat toward him and pressed her lips to his, silencing whatever platitudes he was about to make. She didn’t want to hear them. Couldn’t. Because she was already pulled so taut she felt like her body would break from the tension.

  So she kissed him. Kissed him like it was the last time, because it was and it sucked and she might never see him again. Because her heart was breaking and they’d barely had any time together and yet she couldn’t stop from feeling what she felt.

  The kiss was gritty and salty, heat and sadness, full of bittersweet desperation for what might have been. And when it was over and she pulled away, she stared at his handsome face, searing it into her brain. “Stay safe.”

  “Claire.”

  “Stay safe,” she whispered. “Goodbye, Marcus.”

  “Claire.”

  “What? Do you want me to ask you to stay? I won’t. I can’t. You either want to or you don’t. You either choose to stay o-or you don’t, but it has to be your choice because you know that I can’t… Your job… People shooting at you? Just…promise me you’ll stay safe.”

  He didn’t speak and she knew why. Denz didn’t break his promises and his safety wasn’t in his control. Wasn’t up to him but whoever he came up against in the name of protecting someone else.

  Claire got out and raced for the house. Thankfully her father
wasn’t in sight, and she ignored Tommy’s closed door and quickly grabbed a change of clothes before heading to the shower. She stayed there under the water until it turned cold and then emerged to find multiple messages from Marsali and Eliza. She ignored them and knocked on Tommy’s door. When he didn’t answer, she opened it to find him in bed. “Hey. You okay?”

  “He’s going to die,” her son whispered softly. “Just like Dad.”

  The words were so thick with emotion she could barely make them out.

  Her heart broke all over again, and she entered the room and sat on the edge of his bed to rub her hand over his back. “He’ll be careful.”

  “He was already shot.”

  “It’s his life, Tommy.”

  “But what about you? Don’t you get a say?”

  She blinked hard and tried to find the words. “It’s not like that. It never was. There are certain decisions we have to make on our own, and this is one of them for Denz. He has to choose because otherwise he would resent us.”

  “Why didn’t Dad choose us? Why did he keep going back?”

  She’d asked herself that question many times over the years. Especially after he’d been wounded on his second tour and chose to go back a third time. “Dad always told me he had to. That’s all I know. He felt it was his duty to his country and to his men.”

  Tommy turned his face into the pillow and sobbed. “I hate them. I hate them both.”

  Claire leaned over him and hugged him, her cheek pressed against his hot back. “You don’t mean that. It wouldn’t hurt so much if you hated them. You love them both.”

  Just like I do.

  Chapter 23

  The next day, Claire stared dazedly at the hamburgers frying on the grill inside the craft service van and tried not to let her thoughts drift to Denz.

  When she’d woken up this morning and looked out the kitchen window, his rental was gone and the bag carrying Tommy’s game system was on the kitchen table.

  Her father had already made coffee, and he’d given her a hard stare as he’d told her Denz had brought it over before saying goodbye.

  She’d nodded and got her coffee, trying hard to pretend the news hadn’t gutted her. She wasn’t sure what she expected after the scene in the car when he’d driven them back from the marina, but she’d be lying if she pretended a part of her hadn’t hoped to wake up this morning with Denz on the doorstep because he’d decided to stay.

  “You!”

  Claire startled so badly at the loud voice she dropped the spatula she held. It clattered as it bounced off the grill onto the floor.

  The woman who’d come to the van before to get Claire to be a stand-in hurried through the narrow space to grab Claire by the elbow.

  “We need you again. Right now.”

  “I’m working.”

  The woman lowered her chin to her chest and shot Claire a look over the top of her black-rimmed glasses.

  “We need you.”

  “Claire, go. It’s fine,” her father said. “Tommy and I can handle things.”

  Tommy was in as bad shape as she was today, unable to focus and having to redo things. “Dad, are you sure?”

  “Go,” Tom said. “Just make sure she gets paid,” he said to the woman.

  “Oh, she’ll be fine,” the woman said. “Now come on. We have to hurry.”

  The woman prodded Claire out of the van and down the blocked street into a building.

  “Here. Put this on,” the woman said.

  Claire looked at the black turtleneck, black leggings, and black booties and frowned. “Who am I supposed to be this time?”

  “Jewel thief. Hurry up.”

  Claire rushed to change, pulling on the hot clothes, all the while hoping the set was air conditioned.

  Once dressed, she was shoved into a chair and her makeup quickly done. She’d French braided her today due to the heat and dealing with food, and other than a quick touch-up of a curling iron to the tendrils around her face, her braids were left alone.

  Deemed ready, she followed the woman, who led her to a set decorated to look like an interrogation room.

  “Sit and hold out your hands.”

  Amelia stepped forward from out of the shadows and smiled at Claire.

  “Hey, you.”

  “Hi.”

  Amelia clicked handcuffs together and smiled. “Don’t worry, I have the key.”

  Claire blinked. “Those are for me?”

  “Yup,” Amelia said, fastening one to Claire’s wrist before fixing the links to the table and clicking the cuffs on Claire’s other hand.

  “Okay, guys, let’s get this done. Claire, thanks for helping us out again,” Oliver said, walking toward her.

  “Um, sure. Where’s the actress?”

  “She has a migraine, but we need to run through this scene and make sure we get the lighting and sound right.”

  “I have to speak?”

  “Just ad-lib.”

  Ad-lib? “But what do I say?”

  “You’ll be fine. Just wing it,” he said, moving behind the cameras to take a seat.

  Wing it? Wing it?

  “The setup is you’re a jewel thief. You’ve been caught after stashing the goods, and you’re about to face the head of security.”

  That’s it? That’s all the information she got? How was she supposed to—

  “Action!”

  She startled at the shout and then again at the clap of the marker thing in front of her face.

  A door opened behind her but she faced the wrong way. She sat there, hands cuffed to the table, light shining down on her from overhead, and waited for the other person to speak.

  “You thought you’d get away with it, didn’t you?”

  Denz?

  She turned and squinted into the darkened corner but wasn’t able to make him out for certain. “Get away with wh-what?”

  He stepped closer, into the light, and she gasped when she saw that it really was Denz.

  He was there? But…Miami.

  “The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were trouble.”

  She didn’t respond. Wasn’t sure how to respond. What was happening? Her father had said Denz had a flight out of Wilmington that morning but—

  “And you,” Denz said, slowly strolling around the table until he faced her. “You thought you’d get away with it.”

  “Get away with what? You have no proof,” she said, remembering Oliver’s statement about ad-libbing and stashing the goods.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I let you take it, you know.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

  Denz placed his hands on the table and leaned toward her, and she stared into his mahogany gaze.

  “You got close to me, used me, because you thought I was safe—temporary.”

  Wait, what? Was that in the script she didn’t have?

  “But what if I wasn’t?”

  She blinked at him and swallowed hard. “Wasn’t…what?”

  “Temporary. What if,” he drawled, seating himself on the edge of the table facing her, “you found out I was just a regular guy, working a regular job—here.”

  Claire blinked, so confused because she wanted to believe this was more than a scene for Oliver to check his lighting and sound and yet…too afraid to believe in more.

  What was Denz doing? Had he taken up acting? What part of this was real and what wasn’t? “What crime did I commit…exactly?”

  Denz leaned toward her even more, not stopping until their noses almost touched.

  “You stole my heart,” he said softly.

  The air left her lungs in a huff, and Claire wet her lips, wishing they didn’t have an audience. “I… I suppose it’s only fair.”

  “Because?”

  “You stole mine.”

  Denz’s gaze narrowed on her, and he shoved himself up and moved around the table until he stood behind her.

  “You didn’t answer the question,” he
said. “What if I was that guy? One who finally decided to put down roots. Would it make a difference?”

  A regular guy with a regular job? It sounded heavenly. “It might,” she said, trying to play off the words as casually as possible.

  “I need more than that, sweetheart.”

  “It would,” she said, cheeks heating because she was literally chained to a table with an audience while they talked.

  “Are you sure? Because you don’t date. You told me yourself…after you admitted to not reading your friend’s dating book.”

  A sharp “Ha! I knew it,” sounded from behind the scenes, and Claire recognized the voice as belonging to Marsali.

  Soft laughter filled the area, and Claire bit back an embarrassed smile and shook her head. She’d have to apologize to Marsali later. “I didn’t read it because I didn’t think I was ready to date.”

  “What about now?”

  What about now? Was this really happening? “F-for the right guy, yes. I-I mean, if I met that guy, I’d have no excuse or reason not to…see where things might go. Are you going to uncuff me?”

  “I’m a by-the-book kind of guy. Regulations state the cuffs stay on until you confess. Do you confess?”

  She smiled and shrugged. “Only if you confess first.”

  From their audience, she heard someone say, “Thatta girl.”

  Denz braced one hand on the table beside her, one on the back of her chair, and leaned close enough that she smelled his cologne and a hint of soap and coffee.

  “I confess I like you, Claire Simmons. Enough to jump at a job offer and stick around because you…you make me want to. Now, are you going to date me or not?” he asked, the words whispered softly near her ear.

  “Mmm.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Actually, it is.”

  “How so?”

  “Because I think I already am.”

  “Cut!”

  October sunsets were spectacular in Carolina Cove, and as Claire stared out at the water near Marsali’s home, she thanked God for the beauty He’d gifted them with for their special day.

  The last four and a half months had held a lot of changes. She’d sold the Virginia house and moved, gotten Tommy settled in school. Fallen head over heels in love and started a business as a virtual assistant.