Get to Me

by Lara Van Hulzen

  “She can handle it, Dane. She’s tougher than she looks.”

  Wait. What? She didn’t look tough? What was Torie talking about?

  Dane’s jaw twitched again, but he said nothing.

  Torie looked down at Aimee, now staring wildly at her best friend. “Most likely this guy snagged your purse and now knows not only who you are, but where you live, where your family lives, etc. Anything that was on your phone or in your purse he has knowledge of.”

  ***

  Dane watched Aimee’s face fall. The air of bravado she mastered most of the time vanished and something appeared in her eyes he hadn’t seen before—fear. And he hated it. It crept up his spine and tangled its nasty fingers in his neck, tightening and causing a headache to form. But why? Why did he care so much? His connection to Aimee was a mystery he was still trying to figure out. For years he’d kept women at bay, vowing to never get close enough to be protective. But with her, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his lap, hold her tight, and tell her nothing and no one would ever hurt her as long as he was alive.

  A shiver ran through him. He’d vowed that before and it got him nothing but pain.

  He cleared his throat and looked at Torie. Anywhere but in the depths of Aimee’s green eyes, now valiantly fighting back tears. Seeing her sitting there, clutching her bloody jacket, curled his insides.

  “Look, Aimee. It’ll be fine.” Torie put her hand on Aimee’s shoulder. She turned to the officer behind who had been standing quietly, observing the three of them. He handed her a pencil and sketchpad, both of which Torie passed to Aimee. “You wanna do this now or later?”

  “Now is good. It’s better to do it while his face is fresh in my mind.”

  Aimee took the pad and paper, her hands trembling. Her bravado was trying to fight its way back. She was rattled but didn’t want it to show. He understood.

  “I’ll leave you to it then.” Torie turned and walked away, giving orders to the officer as she went.

  Dane watched Aimee’s hands move swiftly over the paper. It looked as if her movements were sporadic and whimsical and yet with each stroke of the pencil, a picture began to form. He watched in awe, mesmerized by her talent. Each brush of the pencil in her dainty hand soothed him, like ocean waves lapping against the shore. A face took form and within only a few minutes, she turned the pad of paper towards him and said, “There. Done.”

  He blinked, shaking himself from the trance caused by watching her draw, and looked at the paper.

  “I’m not to expert level or anything, but Torie says I’m the best sketch artist she’s ever seen. Of course, she’s biased, being my best friend and all…” Aimee’s voice trailed off. She snapped her fingers in front of him. “Hey, you okay? Do you know this guy or something?”

  Yeah. Dane knew him. He knew him all too well.

  Chapter 5

  Dane’s gut clenched as he stared at the sketchpad Aimee held up. Yeah, he knew the guy. Unfortunately.

  Torie returned and looked at Dane and then the drawing. Her expression matched his, although he feared she hid her feelings better than he did. They exchanged a look, clear that neither one of them wanted to upset Aimee.

  “You’re doing it again,” Aimee said.

  He and Torie looked at her. “Doing what?” Torie asked.

  “Doing that cop communicating thing with your eyes. It’s creepy. Cool, in a way, but still creepy.”

  Torie rolled her eyes. “You read too many fiction stories, my friend.”

  “No I don’t. I’m perceptive and you know it.”

  Dane didn’t doubt that one bit. Aimee also seemed to be more herself now, as if the act of creating a sketch helped her work through some of the stress of the night. He’d believe it. Her entire demeanor changed while she drew.

  “Look. I need to visit the ladies’ room. That way you two can chat openly about whatever your eyes want to say. But I tell you this”—she pointed a finger at both of them—“when I return, I want to know exactly what is going on. Got it?”

  Dane pulled back, unsure of where she was going with the finger wag. Torie sighed and with a wave of her hand said, “Fine. Just go.”

  Aimee walked away, back straight.

  Torie shook her head and faced Dane. He now recognized her height. With her cowgirl boots, they stood eye-to-eye. She was beautiful, like Aimee said, but he felt nothing towards her besides mutual respect as a fellow officer. His insides didn’t buzz the way they did when Aimee was nearby.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she?” he asked.

  “You have no idea. She’s my roommate and best friend but sometimes…” Torie shook her head. “I don’t know. She’s a handful.”

  Yes, she was. A handful he was becoming more and more willing to try to hang onto.

  “You recognized the guy, didn’t you?” He nodded at the sketchpad Aimee had left on the desk.

  “Yeah. Any cop around here worth their salt would know who he is.” Torie picked up the picture and shook her head. “Damien Marcos. Drug dealer extraordinaire. And here we thought he’d disappeared. Of all the crap for her to witness going down, this had to be it. Sheesh. And her dropping her purse is the cherry on the sundae of this whole mess.” She plopped down in the chair Aimee had occupied moments before.

  “It’s not like she meant to leave it behind. She was scared.”

  “Of course. I know that. I’m not blaming her. I’m just saying it sure adds to the excitement of it all, don’t ya think?” She smiled and laughed. “I can guarantee you this, when Aimee is involved, nothing is ever boring.”

  Dane leaned back against the desk opposite Torie, his hips resting against it, his feet crossed at the ankle.

  “What’s your take on this?”

  “By the time I went outside the club to check things out, he was gone. The other guy Aimee said was there was gone. But there was a crapload of blood on the ground. Forensics is checking on that now. Aimee said Marcos slammed the guy into the wall then stabbed him. There was no body, but based on the amount of blood, I doubt that guy made it, whoever he was.”

  “So we search for a body as well.”

  “Keeping our eyes open for one isn’t a bad idea, no. Aimee gave me a good idea of what he looked like too.”

  Dane nodded. “How do we protect her?”

  Torie’s brow shot up. “We?” She smirked. “Taking quite a liking to my little redheaded friend, are we?”

  He was. Only he wasn’t ready to admit that out loud quite yet, even if his thoughts and feelings screamed otherwise.

  “I’m just concerned. We’re friends. She’s related to Ben now. I care about him and anyone in his family.”

  “M-Hmm. Yeah. Sure. Whatever. I think he doth protest too much.” Torie stood and patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s hope we don’t have to worry too much. I think Damien Marcos has bigger fish to fry—and hopefully he’ll lay low after what went down tonight.”

  Dane rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Look, Dane. She lives with me. I’m a cop, and I know how to protect us both. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll give you my schedule for the next week or so and you can keep an eye on her when I’m not around. Deal?”

  It was the best situation Dane could think of considering the circumstances. And Torie was right. Aimee would be safe with her. He could step in when needed. There was just one problem. Fighting any feelings for Aimee would be impossible while spending time with her. His mind said “don’t do it.” His heart said, “Deal.”

  ***

  Aimee parked her bright green VW convertible bug in a spot near the stairs. Prime real estate, and hard to find now that summer was in full swing. Kids were off from school and San Diego was a popular vacation spot for many. She loved being a Southern California native. And not just because of the great weather and surfing anytime she wanted. The vibe of the city was always buzzing with life. Laid back, enjoy-the-sun kind of life, and that suited her just fine. She never tired of the sounds
of the beach either. Seagulls crying overhead mixed with ocean waves and children laughing were a lullaby to her soul.

  Working various jobs as an art teacher at the rec center, with the sketch artist gig on the side, she also photographed weddings for friends. A hodgepodge of jobs, yes, but her schedule was hers and she liked it that way. Her dream was to one day sell her art somewhere but for now, she was content. She came from a wealthy family, and her parents were generous, but they taught her and her two sisters to be self-sufficient and independent. By living simple and frugal, she’d carved out a nice life for herself and got to surf when she wanted. Some saw her lifestyle as frivolous and easy and in some ways, maybe it was. But that didn’t mean she was irresponsible and flighty.

  So she was fun and had a positive outlook on life. Why was that so bad? She sighed. Oh well. Not things to think of today. It was too beautiful out.

  She hopped out of her car and grabbed her surfboard. Plopping her keys into her beach bag, she slung it over her shoulder. Two bikini-clad girls giggled as they passed a man at the top of the stairs. Wearing only blue boardshorts and a big grin, he drew attention like a neon billboard. Holy cow, the guy was hot. He leaned against the stone wall, arms across his chest and his gaze toward the water, oblivious to any gawkers. Gawkers like Aimee. She blinked.

  “Get a grip, girl. Sheesh.”

  Her flip-flops smacked against the concrete. Nearing the stairs, she averted her eyes from him and prayed no drool was evident on her face. A deep voice stopped her cold.

  “You up for company today?”

  Dane. Oh good heavens, the hot guy was Dane.

  How could she have missed that? Because she hadn’t been looking at his face. She’d been ogling his chest like every other female within a one-mile radius. Ugh. Her cheeks flushed, giving her what was sure to be an unattractive beet look as opposed to a rosy glow. No matter. She’d face her fate head on like always.

  “Hey. I didn’t see you there,” she said as she turned towards him. Thank goodness her sunglasses hid the lie that would have been evident had he been able to see her eyes. He smirked. Apparently the lie didn’t sound believable coming out of her mouth, either.

  “I usually surf with Ben, or at least I try to anyway, but since he’s on his honeymoon, I thought maybe you’d be willing to give me a few lessons. I’m still a beginner, but willing to learn.”

  His smile stopped her heart as well as half the women walking by. One lady actually bumped into her friend who’d turned to get an eye full.

  Aimee’s heart raced. “Sure. Why not?”

  She turned and headed down the stairs, if only to catch her breath again. What was she thinking? After she’d left the police station the other night, she’d vowed to forget about Dane and move on, knowing he wasn’t interested in her. He’d only showed up at the station to check on her for Ben and Tess’s sake. He’d said so himself. But he was here now and wanting to surf with her. Why? Was he really interested?

  “You wanna share some of that conversation with me or keep it to yourself?”

  She jumped. While going circles in her head, she hadn’t noticed Dane catch up to her. Now side-by-side, they walked with their feet kicking sand out in front of them.

  Blushing—again, she shook her head. Could he possibly know what she’d been thinking? No. No way. “Sorry. That obvious, huh?”

  “You get a look on your face from time to time, and I can tell you go into that pretty head of yours, conversing all on your own.”

  Did he just say she was pretty? Focus, Aimee. Focus.

  “It’s a hazard, for sure. On many levels. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He shrugged. “I just wanted you to know I’m willing to talk it out with you if you want. Lend a listening ear.” He nudged her with his shoulder and gave that mega-watt smile again.

  “So you have surfed before, right?” A change of subject was a good idea. “Because I’m really not up for saving your butt today out in that water. Lifeguard isn’t on my resume.”

  “Really? I thought every Southern Californian was a lifeguard at some point or another.”

  “You thought wrong. With this skin I can hang out in the sun for a few hours, but that’s it. And I have to wear eighty-five-strength sunscreen to boot. Sitting and soaking up sun all day is not meant for me.” They stopped near the water and she let her beach bag slide down her arm to the sand. Her hand brushed his forearm that held his surfboard. Dark hair covered already-almond-colored skin. Apparently his skin was meant to worship the sun.

  “You didn’t answer my question. Am I saving your sorry behind today out there or not?”

  He looked from the ocean to her, his eyes hidden behind mirrored Ray Bans.

  “I can hold my own.”

  This time, his smile revealed dimples that could stop traffic. The five o’clock shadow wasn’t hurting the sexy surfer vibe he had going on either.

  “So, no beginner lesson here on the sand before we head out?”

  He laughed. “As much as I would enjoy that, no. I’m good.”

  “Okay then, try to keep up,” she yelled over her shoulder as she ran for the waves and dove on her board.

  ***

  Dane paddled out on his surfboard a few yards behind Aimee. Her toned arms pushed with smooth strokes through the water.

  He’d watched her pull up in that crazy little convertible, complete with sunflower in the cup holder. Everything about it screamed Aimee. Sunshine and light. She was laid back and fun, protective of those she loved, but Dane noticed she had a tendency to try and prove herself. He didn’t know why, and it bothered him that he wanted to know. Know more about her. Understand her. He’d spent so long shutting people out, the desire to let anyone in was foreign. And yet with Aimee, it felt right.

  He and Torie had agreed he would help keep an eye on Aimee when Torie wasn’t around. Dane didn’t want to seem too obvious, so he’d mainly tailed Aimee so far. When Torie said Aimee would be surfing that day, he decided to join her, to protect her. But to be honest, he wanted to see her again. Spend time with her.

  When she’d hopped out of her car in green boardshorts and a bikini top, her hair flowing in the breeze, and headed towards him carrying her surfboard, he’d struggled to breathe. He’d almost fallen backwards over the stone wall. He couldn’t fathom how she ever thought she wasn’t the type to turn heads. She practically had his on a swivel. Grateful for his sunglasses, he thought for sure his eyes would have popped out of his head. For reasons he would never understand, she compared herself to Torie. Dane would take Aimee’s curves and sass over anyone else, any day.

  Still ahead of him, she stopped paddling and straddled her board all in one fluid motion. She might not be tall and lean like Torie, but she was athletic and strong, none of which was lost on Dane. The way her thigh muscles flexed when she gripped her board made his brain go fuzzy. Rubbing his neck, he tried to shake thoughts from his head that would surely get him in trouble and cause Aimee to gain lifeguard skills in a hurry.

  “What’s with the goofy grin?”

  He paddled up beside her and sat on his board as well. “What?” Pretending not to hear her question was a good idea. And gave him a chance to wipe said grin off his face.

  She smiled but let it go. “Okay, Cowboy. A good wave is headed our way. You ready?”

  He laughed. “Cowboy, huh?”

  “It fits, don’t you think? And if you can ride a wave as well as you ride a horse, you’ll do just fine.”

  “How do you know I ride a horse well?”

  “You said us Southern California peeps are all lifeguards. Don’t all you Cowboys ride horses?”

  “Fair enough. But you said I was wrong. You aren’t a lifeguard.”

  “So you’re saying you don’t ride horses?”

  “Nope. I ride horses just fine. I do okay on waves, too.” He flopped to his stomach and paddled like crazy, catching the wave just right and riding it to shore. He turned to see Aimee catch the next wave bu
t with much more precision and skill.

  They paddled back out together side by side. “Not bad, Cowboy. Not bad at all.”

  Her hair glistened in the sun, her eyes glowing with joy, free from fear or concern. She was a goddess. He’d give everything he had to keep life this way for her.

  Chapter 6

  Aimee tapped her foot on the table leg. The ocean breeze kissed her cheeks, causing a strand of her hair to tickle her nose. She unwrapped her hair tie and redid a messy ponytail high on her head. Trying to do anything with her curls after swimming in the ocean was pointless. Washing it later and lathering it with conditioner was her only hope. She took another bite of fish taco and bobbed her head a bit to the same beat as her foot.

  Dane eyed her foot then said, “Is there some song playing I don’t know about?” He looked around the dive where they’d chosen to eat after surfing. Juanita’s Tacos sat literally on the sand, not much more than a hut with tables scattered around, but it was known for some of the best fish tacos in San Diego. The perfect end to a day spent in saltwater.

  Aimee stopped, not noticing she’d been dancing again. Hoping her blush didn’t reach her cheeks, she said, “Oh. Yeah. That. I always have a song playing in my head. Sometimes it makes its way to my feet. Or the rest of my body, for that matter. Sorry.” She shrugged.

  “Really? You always have a song in your head?”

  “Yep.”

  “Always?”

  “Always.” She wiped her hands on a napkin and took a sip of iced tea.

  “What song is playing in your head right now?”

  Without missing a beat, she answered. “What A Fool Believes” by The Doobie Brothers. What can I say? I was raised on ’70s music.”

  Dane laughed, the dimpled smile emerging once more. She sure could get used to seeing that more often.

  “That’s impressive.”

  She smiled and lifted a shoulder. “Not really. I’ve always loved music. It inspires me. I listen to different genres based on what I’m drawing.”