“There they are.” Oliver pointed, and Beckett clenched his jaw at the sight. “Not awkward at all, considering they’re topless. We should take our shirts off so they don’t feel uncomfortable,” Oliver teased as they neared the two women.
Beckett advanced with slow steps and looked around, taking in the other sunbathers. “I don’t think this is a nude beach.” He hadn’t meant to say that aloud, or for that to be the first thing Sydney heard.
Sydney turned her head to the side and put eyes on the two of them. Her glasses shielded her gaze, so he couldn’t tell if she was surprised or pissed to see him and Oliver there. She casually sat upright, and it took every ounce of willpower for Beckett to keep his gaze above her breasts, but they were perfectly fucking perfect and right there.
“You going to arrest me, Sheriff?” A smile briefly flitted across her glossy lips. “I think we’re outside your jurisdiction.”
“He’s the sheriff?” Beckett overheard Mya ask, but he still couldn’t rip his eyes free from Sydney’s face despite the fact Mya seemed to know of him, for whatever reason.
“Hey, we paid good money for these. Gotta show them off. It was a two-for-one special.” He had no clue if Mya was joking, not that he cared. He believed a woman ought to do whatever she wanted with her body if it made her happier or more confident. He wasn’t one to judge.
Not that he didn’t want McKenna to love and accept herself, which he was certain she did, but . . . why am I thinking about this right now?
Sydney reached for her top and secured the two little black triangles over her breasts.
Part of him wanted to thank God she was covering up, but the larger, more throbbing part of him begged the devil to have the breeze blow the fabric into the Caribbean.
“Good to see you again, Mya,” Oliver piped up, his tone low and almost growly. Had seeing Mya topless done a number on his brain?
“Oliver,” Mya softly responded and stood alongside Sydney, both their tops now securely in place. “Happy to see all of your . . . body parts still intact.”
Beckett was pretty sure the light laugh from Oliver was borderline flirty, but before Oliver could say more, Sydney spoke up, “I can guess why you’re here.” She pushed her sunglasses into her hair while settling her gaze on Oliver. “But not you.” She reached for a black, see-through wrap thing and circled it around her hips, tying it into a skirt.
Beckett did his best not to clock every inch of her exposed skin. But he noticed what looked like a tiny scar above her belly button, which had him wondering if she’d had a navel piercing at one point. And he couldn’t help but observe the way her cleavage popped out of her top as if her breasts preferred to be free again.
“Did something happen to Jesse?” Sydney asked Beckett, cutting straight to the point. “That’s the only reason I can think of as to why you’d be here. And I’m also going to assume you’re somehow to blame for what’s happened.”
Smart woman.
“Jesse’s currently inside one of the Sinaloa cartel’s compounds in Juárez, but we’re hoping he’ll use his newfound popularity to lead them here to Tulum, or somewhere close by,” Oliver announced, maintaining his casual and worry-free tone when Beckett had yet to explain.
“And you’re right, it’s my fault,” Beckett confessed, his gaze fixed on Sydney’s gorgeous light green eyes. Her blonde hair settled in waves over sun-kissed shoulders, and she brushed her hair to her back as she studied him.
“The Sinaloas?” Mya whispered after a slight gasp, her reaction making it clear she’d heard of the cartel. Considering she was once a journalist, that made sense.
But then Mya abruptly looked toward the sea, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths, and Beckett couldn’t help but wonder if her knowledge of the cartel was more than just an occupational hazard.
“This is about a woman, am I right?” Sydney’s question caught him off guard. How in the hell did she know that?
Beckett took what he hoped wasn’t a noticeable gulp. “Why do you say that?”
“Women are often the reason men do stupid things,” Sydney responded.
Ain’t that the truth.
“And your brother-in-law wouldn’t be where he is right now if someone hadn’t screwed with your head. So, who’s the woman? And how in the hell did she manage to get my teammate into such a precarious situation?”
Beckett exchanged a quick look with Oliver. “I was looking for my daughter’s mother.”
Sydney tilted her head at his confession, genuine surprise crossing her face this time. Or was that sympathy? Empathy? He couldn’t think of the right word at the moment, not with her looking at him like that. Like she somehow understood his dilemma and his pain.
Maybe Jack was right, and Beckett did need backup when facing her, but it wasn’t for the reasons he’d suggested. No, it was because this woman could break down his fucking walls and make him forget he was a gentleman, all without breaking a sweat. She was dangerous. And the last thing he needed was another dangerous woman in his life who’d have him throwing reason out the window.
“Did you find her?” Mya asked, breaking the silence. Sydney had yet to look away from Beckett, those green eyes of hers still peering straight into his soul.
“No, but I found the woman who taught McKenna’s mother everything. The woman who showed her how to be a con artist and manipulate people.” Beckett paused for a beat, taking a moment to cool his rising anger. “If anyone will know where my daughter’s mother, Cora, is . . . it’s Ivy, McKenna’s aunt.”
CHAPTER SIX
Sydney’s eyes landed on the large, vibrantly colored photo of a cenote that hung over the king-sized bed as she removed her bikini top and bottoms. She and Mya had visited the jungle area of Tulum yesterday, and Sydney had been captivated by the beauty and history of the cenotes, which she’d learned from their tour guide was pronounced “seh-no-tays.”
The Yucatan Peninsula was home to thousands of these natural limestone sinkholes. As the only source of freshwater, they were sacred to the ancient Mayans. It was believed Chaac, their god of rain, resided at the bottom of the cenotes, and sacrifices were commonplace to please the deity.
Their guide had invited them to join one of the small snorkel tours, but Mya had chickened out. “Swim around in an underground hole that is connected to hundreds of other underground holes? With my luck, I’d somehow get sucked under and be the next sacrifice.”
Mya could chase down human traffickers but getting into a body of water that wasn’t crystal clear was somehow out of the question.
Sydney pulled her attention down to the cerulean-blue comforter, a match to the sea, and her thoughts drifted to last night. To that romance novel and the fictitious images of Beckett’s warm body heating hers.
And now he’s here. Mya would call that serendipitous or something as colorful.
“Sydney?” a voice she recognized asked from outside her door. She’d planned to meet everyone at the beachfront bar after she and Mya went to their rooms to change, so she wasn’t sure why Beckett had decided to drop by.
“Yeah, one second,” she responded, quickly searching for anything to put on. There was no way in hell she was answering the door naked, even though a tiny part of her wanted to do just that and see how Beckett responded.