I text Jamie that I’m up and will be out soon. She responds that I can take my time, as our patio is only one step down from heaven.
After half a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, I feel alive enough to start the day, and I interrupt the guys just long enough to borrow Damien for a moment.
“You should join us at the beach later,” I tell him after I’ve pulled him out of earshot.
“I need to work on this.”
“Does Ryan know?”
His brow furrows. “Does he know what?”
“That you don’t trust him.”
Frustration flashes in his eyes.
“All I’m saying is that I trust you and you trust Ryan. He’s the best at what he does. Let him do it. You deserve the downtime.”
He sighs, then pulls me close and kisses my forehead, and for a moment, I think I’ve won. “Last night you said you trusted me to keep our family safe.”
“I do. But Ryan —”
“Nikki. Don’t push me. Not on our family’s safety.”
“I don’t like seeing you worried,” I admit, which is true, but not the entire truth. The real truth is that I’m worried, too. But if Damien were to come with us to the beach, I could console myself with the lie that I’m overreacting.
Damien, however, immediately puts that fantasy to rest. “I am worried,” he says. “And you and I both know I have reason to be. I can’t wave a magic wand and make it all better, but I can do this. I can work with Ryan to secure our home so that my wife and our kids and our friends can go enjoy the beach with minimal worry.”
I exhale, defeated. Because he’s right. I can’t just push all of this aside, no matter how much I might like to. No matter how much I know it hurts him to have his past at the epicenter of this new harassment.
“You’re right,” I say, hooking my arms around his waist, then brushing a kiss over his lips. “I’m selfishly wanting to ignore the whole thing. You’re being the strong one and dealing with it, and I love you for it.”
“I love you, too,” he tells me. “Now go have fun. Later tonight you can thank me properly,” he adds, making me laugh even though I’m not at all opposed to that plan.
Moments later, I’m heading to the playroom so I can help Sylvia gather the kids, but she’s already got them suited up and ready. All except for Jeffery.
“He wants to stay here with the guys,” Sylvia tells me.
“Girls have cooties?”
She laughs. “No. He thinks Ryan is cool, and he wants to hang out and help ‘do security.’ His words.”
“Hey,” I say, “under the circumstances, the more help the better.”
We both grin, but there’s an undercurrent of truth there. As much as I wish I could hide behind denial, I want my home secure.
Since the bulk of our beach toys are at the bungalow, we manage to round up the kids and get underway faster than I expected. Ronnie’s our leader and she even takes personal charge of Bradley.
“Gregory packed mimosas, right?” Jamie asks as we follow the kids down the path to the bungalow. “I haven’t poked around in there yet.”
“I’ll fire him if he didn’t,” I say dryly, then add, “He knows you well, James. I have a feeling the baskets are packed with fruity drinks of both the child and adult variety.
“And thank goodness for that,” Sylvia adds. “By the way, Cass texted that she’s running late, but she’ll join us soon.”
“Oh, good,” I say. I met Sylvia’s lifelong BFF years ago, and she fast became one of my favorite people.
“Is Bree coming?” Jamie asks.
“I invited her, but she already had plans.”
“Too bad, but fine. More mimosas for me.”
I laugh, then hurry to catch up with my kids, who have already reached the bungalow and are bouncing on the patio, urging me to hurry up and get the sand toys and other beach paraphernalia.
Soon enough, we’re all equipped, and we follow the stairs that lead from the huge porch to the beach, then start the process of setting up camp. A couple of small beach tents that resemble lean-tos so that the kids don’t roast despite the sunscreen. A huge mat on which to spread our picnic. Four folding chairs for the adults. And a cart with sand-friendly wheels for every beach toy imaginable.
There’s no lifeguard in this area, but none of the kids actually like to swim in the ocean. I wonder if that will change later as they watch the surfers, but for now they are content to make sand castles, look for shells, and splash in the waves, never wandering out past their knees.
“By the way,” Sylvia says to Jamie, once we’re all settled with our mimosas, “I hope Ryan was okay with leaving Jeffery behind. He said it was fine, but maybe he was just being polite.”
Jamie waves the question away. “No worries at all. Ryan loves it. At first, I thought it might only be babies and toddlers, but lately he’s fascinated with kids who are miniature adults, too.” She makes a face and scowls at me and Sylvia in turn. “I want you to know I personally blame you two.”
“Us?” Sylvia asks as Cass appears around the side of the bungalow.
“Breeding,” Jamie says. “You two are these great success stories. I mean, my God, the pressure.”
There’s humor in her voice, but I know her well enough to hear genuine fear underneath.
“Jamie,” I say gently, but she holds up her hands. “Beach day. My uterus is not even open for discussion.”
“That means we have to talk about Cass,” Sylvia says, smiling as the woman in question starts to settle on the blanket. Pink and blue streaks highlight her dark hair, which is pulled up into a messy bun, and the halter she’s wearing shows off the wildly colorful tattoo of an exotic bird that dominates her arm and shoulder.
“Me?” she asks as I pour a mimosa and pass it to her. “Why me?”
“You’re the only one who’s single,” Sylvia says.
“Oh, lucky me.”
Sylvia laughs, then changes the pitch of her voice to say, “Ronnie, sweetie, can you put a little more sunscreen on Bradley’s shoulders?” She grimaces, then turns to me. “Sorry, that’s your job.”
“Hey, I’m fine with community parenting. And preventing sunburn. All good.” I shift my attention back to Cass. “So why are you single? You’re amazing.”
“Right?” Cass says, making us all laugh. “I really am.” She shakes her head, as if shaking off the question. “Seriously, I don’t know. I’ve had a few relationships since Siobhan, but no one I’ve clicked with in the same way. Not even Emma, who was a hell of a lot of fun. I think my superpower is falling for women who end up falling for men.”
“Definitely not a great track record,” Jamie says. “But you’ll find someone.”
“I’ve decided to stop looking,” Cass says. “Although I did bump into Emma at Blacklist last week,” she adds, mentioning a popular Venice Beach bar. “We had a couple of drinks, and it was cool. Straight life agrees with her.”
“Well, Tony does, at any rate,” Sylvia says, referring to Antonio Santos, who, like Emma, is an operative at Stark Security.