Dirty Game

I put the mug down. Maybe it was time I paid him a visit.

I grabbed my bag and keys and drove toward Roger Wyatt’s house.

12

Blake

I heard wheels crunching over the gravel and stepped out onto the porch to see who was pulling up the drive. I had a hot cup of coffee in my hands.

It was Sierra. I felt the jolt between my ribs.

She stepped from the car. “Good morning.”

“How’s your head?” I grinned. She looked fucking adorable. Her blond hair fell over her shoulders. She was wearing cut off shorts, so short that if she bent over I’d see my favorite slice of heaven. My dick hardened instantly. She was a damn she-devil that one. All she had to do was show up and instantly I wanted to kiss her until I had her stripped bare. I wanted to kiss her lips, her tits, her sweet skin and her legs all the way to that honey-soaked paradise.

“Are you staying here?” she asked. “Is this where you are for the summer?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

She looked confused. I saw her eye the boat barn.

“I actually wasn’t expecting to see you. I came to talk to your dad, but maybe another time would be better.” She stepped back toward the driver side.

“Hey, wait.” I jogged down the stairs. She stopped. “That’s going to be nearly impossible, darlin’.”

“Why?”

“My dad died three months ago.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “What? I hadn’t heard.”

I shoved my hands in my front pockets. “Yeah. Heart attack while he was running the sander. Uncle Billy found him.”

Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Blake. Really I am.”

“Thanks.”

We walked to the porch and sat on the top step.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know,” she whispered.

“It’s not like you’re around here. How would you have known?”

“The news, maybe?” She looked at me and I saw the concern in her eyes. I didn’t want pity from her. I’d had my share of condolences.

“Happened during the draft. It didn’t get any coverage. I wanted it that way. I hate it when the press follows me. And they aren’t welcome on the island. I didn’t need any damn reporters at the funeral. He wouldn’t have wanted that either.”

“Right. I get that.”

“It was simple.” I didn’t know why I started in on the details. “He wanted a plain juniper box. He’s in the family cemetery next to my mom.”

Her eyes flashed with pain at the mention of my mother. I swore it was like one minefield after another between us. We couldn’t get away from the explosives before another one was set off. And we did it too each other, reminding the other of the pain from when she had left.

“God, your mom, Blake…” She hung her head. “I always liked her. She was always so sweet to me.”

“Probably because she needed another girl around here,” I joked, but I didn’t feel the lightness of it. My mom had loved Sierra. She had been crushed when Sierra had taken off and then we’d gotten her diagnosis.

I cleared my throat. “You said you were here to see my dad?”