Page 12 of Lethal Bodyguard Summer

“Last weekend. She came one day, then didn’t show up. Our dog could have died. Thank God we had to come home early.”

“She didn’t let you know?”

“No,” the woman snarled. “Just disappeared. I wrote a Yelp review telling her exactly what I thought of her.”

“Okay. Thank you for your time.”

“Hey, if you see her, tell her she owes us our deposit back.”

“Sure will,” I said, smiling at the woman. Not a chance in hell I’d tell my sister that. This woman owed Allie just on principle alone.

“And if you see her or remember anything else,” Brooks said, handing her a card, “call us.”

The woman took the card and tossed it aside. “Fine. Whatever.”

We’d been out here all afternoon. The sun was beginning to dip over the horizon, and the glare across the blue sea was causing a dull ache to form in my temples. I pressed my fingers against them and let out a quiet, frustrated sound. Why was this so difficult? Why didn’t anyone seem to want to help?

Brooks appeared in front of me and gently replaced my hands with his. His fingers, even callused, felt divine. I pulled away.

“Headache?”

“Yeah. But I’m not ready to stop.”

“We need to go, regroup.”

“I feel like we’re spinning our wheels.”

“We’re not. Come on. Let’s go back to my place, get some food, and discuss what we know. That will help us eliminate things and narrow down the possibilities.”

“Fine,” I sighed.

When we got back to his place, he cut through his house, straight to the sliding door. “Come outside for a minute.”

I followed him onto the deck thinking we were going to sit out there and go over everything. The sunlight was soft and gold. The surf rolled in and out in that steady, endless rhythm that made everything else feel insignificant. I’d heard that allday, but at the marina it had a different effect on me. We stood there listening for a while. My shoulders started to drop without permission.

Brooks held out a hand.

I stared at it. “What?”

“Humor me.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I took it. He tugged me gently into the middle of the deck and set one hand at my waist, keeping the other wrapped around mine. Then he started moving—slowly, barely there, just swaying with the sound of the water.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I whispered, but I didn’t pull away.

“Probably not.”

We turned in a slow circle. The wood was warm under my bare feet. His hand at my waist stayed light, like he was giving me every chance to step back. The headache didn’t vanish, but it loosened its grip. For a few seconds I let myself stop thinking about Allie and just exist right here with Brooks.

He looked down at me. Something raw flared to life in his eyes. His gaze dropped to my mouth. I felt the exact moment the air between us went tight and charged. My pulse kicked hard in my throat.

He leaned in a fraction, close enough that I felt the warmth of his breath. Close enough that the wanting became a physical ache.

Then he stopped himself, jaw flexing, and deliberately stepped back. “Ready to go back in?”

I cleared my throat. “Um, yeah.”

We went back inside, and he busied himself with making us some food while I set the table and retrieved beer. The almost-kiss sat between us like a living thing neither of us was ready to acknowledge. My skin still burned where his hand had touched.