“What did we miss?” Becky’s eyes alight with potential mischief.
Skye fills her in, only to have her tilting her head like Trident does when confused. “But Dex is a man.”
“Yeah he is.” Zoey waggles her eyebrows, causing us all to snicker.
“Don’t distract me,” Becky mock-scolds.
Oh, please distract her. Please save me from the I-know-it’s-well-meaning-but-I-just-don’t-have-it-in-me-to-deal-with-it inquisition.
“Anyway, like I was saying…” Becky huffs. “Dex is a man, so wouldn’t the carpet reference be more suited to Madz, and his would be more like…” She struggles to find the right words. “Sliding down his flagpole?”
“Oh, good point,” Skye concedes, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “So, Madz, tell us—did you Jolly your Hook’s Roger?”
“Now that’s a good one.”
“Oh yeah.”
Becky and Zoey both agree and share a three-way exploding fist bump with Skye.
You see why the voices in my head are the way they are, right? My friends are insane. I also wouldn’t trade them for the world.
I sit back and listen to the chaos around me, making all kinds of mental notes for all the book material they are giving me. Damn Dex for being right.
What if that’s not the only thing he was right about?
Ignoring the taunting voice of Mr. Annoying Jiminy, I rest my head on Jordan’s shoulder, going back to watching how her girls are squealing as Tucker chases them with clumps of seaweed like he’s a monster.
Toddlerdom has thinned them out from when they were cute pudgy babies, but as they run to enlist Damon, Deck, and Ryan to join their cause, I can’t help thinking they look like Peggy Bundy with how their hips shimmy.
“You doing okay?” Jordan asks, keeping her voice low enough for us to stay in our own little bubble.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, and I feel her nod, but she doesn’t comment.
One of my favorite things about Jordan is her ability to know when to push and when to just let us be. It’s probably why she’s become the matriarch of our crew. Don’t get me wrong, just because she’s not a bossy know-it-all doesn’t mean she doesn’t interfere if the situation warrants it—Jase and Melody are a prime example—but that’s a story for a different day. Still…she’s a pillar of support for us.
“I’m just a phone call away if you need me.” See what I mean? “It doesn’t matter the time.”
Honestly, if anyone could help me with what I’m going through, it would be Jordan. Just because she knew the identity of the person who harassed her back in college doesn’t make what happened to her any less serious than what is happening with me. She’s also seen me through all my stages of feelings for Dex, but there’s that ever-present guilt about what happened with Ryan—her brother—that prevents me from using her as my sounding board.
Instead, I accept her silent support and let the smell of the sea, the gentle crash of the waves, the heat of the sun on my skin, and the sounds of my friends enjoying this beautiful summer day soothe me.
If only I could stay in this perfect little bubble.
Chapter Forty-Three
The sun is still hours away from setting and already I feel like I’ve been up for days. While we managed to install a number of new protective measures when it comes to Maddey’s house and the now independently powered security system, it still frustrates the fuck out of me that we are no closer to figuring out the stalker’s identity.
We dealt with the cops, turning over the new evidence—not allowing Justin to see the other pictures—and talking about this latest development in the case. The police will add periodic drive-by patrols to the neighborhood, but I don’t have much hope that it will be a fruitful endeavor.
If having an active SEAL staying inside the house hasn’t been a deterrent, what makes anyone think the occasional cop car passing by will?
I haven’t stopped kicking myself for allowing this fucker to get the drop on me. There have even been a few points throughout the day when I’ve let the occasional doubt creep in, wondering if I’m distracted by being personally involved, but then I remember this is Tink we’re talking about—it was always personal for me, with or without the sex.
One of the other changes I made was to pull in the security firm to have a slightly more active role in the investigation, and I also had them supply me with a tracking device small enough for Maddey to keep on her person.
I’ve done all I can; now it’s time to get my girl. Shockingly enough, she’s kept me apprised of her itinerary as it changed throughout the day. Then again, for as resistant as I’ve been told she was before I got here, like Jamie said, she hasn’t balked once at my directives. Hell, the only time she gave me an issue was when I left her out to talk to Justin and Paul the first time. Even today, she didn’t give me much of a fight once I promised to keep her in the loop.
This is how I find myself walking the short distance on the beach, two doors down from Maddey to where the hockey guys share a house. Why a bunch of guys who make millions share a house, I have no idea.
On the way, I study my surroundings, taking an extra close look at the house rented by the college students, but there is no way the stalker used that one to take the pictures. The angle is all wrong.
Plus, the number of people I can see hanging out of the various decks at the moment would make it hard for anyone to be sneaking around. It wasn’t all that late when Maddey and I had our hot tub romp, and there’s no way all of them were down for the night then. The families sharing the house to the right? That makes more sense.
Unlatching the gate, I step into the fenced-off yard. There’s a group of the fighters playing corn hole off to my right, and I see most of the hockey players spread out around the lower deck with a sprinkling of Covenettes in both places.
Trident lumbers down the steps to meet me as I make my rounds to greet everyone, and I bend to scratch his ears and ask him where his mama is. He takes me to where my favorite beach bum sits on one of the lounge chairs, Mickey Mouse headphones around her neck, those I’m-going-to-need-her-to-wear-them-for-me-in-the-bedroom glasses pushed up like a headband, small horse—er, Great Dane—sitting in her lap, ignoring the MacBook open in front of her as her attention is focused somewhere else.
“A little hard to be writing dirty with your laptop all the way over there,” I tease, only to have a hand wrap around my forearm the best it can and yank me down.
Electricity sparks from everywhere her skin makes contact with mine, and I’m instantly hard. It hasn’t even been twelve hours since I’ve been inside her and already I’m counting down the minutes until I can do it again.
“Shhh,” Maddey cautions, keeping her hold on me.
“What?” I lean in close to whisper in her ear, letting my nose brush along the shell of it, smiling at her quick intake of breath.
“Because…” It’s her turn to move in closer, her lips skimming my jaw as she speaks. “I’m trying to listen and I can’t hear when you’re flapping your lips.”
“You didn’t seem to mind how I flapped my lips last nig—” She pinches said lips together so I look like a duck.