Dec had thought of what swam beneath the blue surface of the Pacific: sharks, Morays, things that stalked and hunted and killed.
“Looks can be deceptive,” he’d said.
Crap. His back-from-the-desert bitterness had hit the wrong note. She went from looking startled to looking wary.
“I meant,” he’d added quickly, “there are some strong currents off this beach. You shouldn’t swim here alone.”
“Oh. Oh, I didn’t come to swim. I’m just walking, that’s all.”
Her gaze had softened. Man, her eyes were unusual. Not brown. Not green. Hazel? No. Topaz was more accurate. Yeah. That’s what they were. A rich, deep topaz set in an exquisite oval face. The rest of her was exquisite, too. Gently rounded breasts, a slender waist…
Suddenly, he’d realized he was staring. And she was blushing. And, like the wren, getting ready to fly.
Dammit, he was an idiot.
“Well,” she’d said, “it’s been nice meeting you, but I have to—”
“We haven’t met,” he’d said quickly, holding out his hand. “I’m Dec. Declan Sanchez.”
She’d hesitated. Then she’d put her hand in his. He could still recall the electric shock that had hummed through him at her touch.
“Oh,” she’d said, laughing a little.
Could something so simple tell you that your world was about to change?
Because it had. She had changed it. Forever. It was still changed, even now, months later, months since he’d met her, weeks since he’d discovered the depth of her lies, her deception…
A bright beam of light swept over the night-black beach. Dec swung around and threw up his hand against the blinding glare.
“Who’s there?”
“Me. Nick. For crissakes, dude, it’s as dark as the inside of a heifer out here. Didn’t you ever hear of electricity?”
“What the fuck would you know about heifers?” Dec said, laughing as Romano came towards him.
Romano, who had grown up in Brooklyn, laughed along with him.
“It’s what a guy I went through BUD/S with used to say. And he would have known for sure. You know. He was from flyover country.” Nick reached Dec and jerked his thumb back towards the cottage. “Checked out the territory. Saw it was clear of blondes.”
“Yeah.” Dec cleared his throat. “Dude. Thanks for bailing me out.”
“Hey,” Nick said, “what’re friends for if not to do a little bailing every now and then?”
“Yeah,” Dec said again. “See, the thing is—”
“The thing is,” Nick said, “by the time we get back to your place, Olivieri will have eaten all the pizza, Sullivan will have polished off the beer, Maguire will be checkin’ for hidden stashes of chocolate, and Spanos will be emptying your refrigerator.”
“The whole unit’s here?”
“You got it.”
“And you brought pizza?”
“Comfort food. Of course.”
Dec felt his throat constrict. “Dude. I don’t know what to—”
Nick clapped Dec on the shoulder. “We don’t wanna starve to death or die of thirst, we’d better get our asses moving.”