Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
TULUM, MEXICO
“White sand beneath our feet, turquoise water lapping the shore, and mimosas in our hands. What more could we ask for?”
Sydney slapped a palm to the top of her floppy sun hat when a sudden breeze threatened to whisk it away, spilling a few sips of her drink in the process, and laughed at her friend’s singsong praise of their surroundings. She and Mya were relaxing on wicker chaise loungers on the beach at their resort, the Caribbean Sea their current view and not a cloud in sight.
After sightseeing the Mayan ruins yesterday afternoon, they’d opted to spend their Sunday doing nothing but soaking in the sun. Aside from a little beach yoga after breakfast that morning, this had to have been the laziest Sydney had been in months.
“Well,” Sydney began, fighting a smile and resting her arm back on her lap once the breeze had died down, “you know what I’d add to the mix to make this day totally perfect.”
Mya turned her head toward Sydney and playfully kissed the air. “I’ll give you my answer before you leave tomorrow, I promise.”
“Before I leave? Are you staying longer?”
“Maybe. I might need an extra day or two in the sun.” Mya looked around as if ensuring no one could hear what she planned to say next. But then nothing came.
Something was up with Mya. She’d had her head on a swivel the entire time they’d explored the Mayan ruins yesterday, and she doubted it had to do with Mya’s fear of snakes or the uptick in recent saltwater crocodile attacks at the lagoons.
“I know you want to talk about the prospect of my fabulous self working with Falcon Falls.” Mya sighed and turned to face the Caribbean Sea. “But let’s just be two hot women on a beach with no worries in the world for a little bit longer.”
“And you’re sure there’s nothing to worry about?” Sydney repeated the question she’d asked her friend three or four times yesterday.
Of course, Sydney had her own list of worries she didn’t plan to share, and at the top was how her son was going to handle his father and Alice dating.
Mya brought the rim of her champagne flute to her lips and sipped. “No. We should drink more. Get baked. Not from pot.” She smiled. “From the sun. You know, just chill. You were the opposite of relaxed yesterday, so let’s not repeat that.”
“Ditto,” Sydney said under her breath. She hadn’t told Mya about Seth and Alice yet because she didn’t want to spoil Mya’s mood. Alice had been like a sister to her as well. Although Sydney never asked her to, Mya had ended her friendship with Alice after learning of the affair. That loyalty still meant the world to her.
Sydney finished her drink and discarded the empty glass on the little wicker table sandwiched between their sunbeds. It was only May, but the sun was already beating down on them, and her skin hadn’t seen much in the way of Vitamin D in the last few months. They’d need to open the umbrella for some shade because, sunscreen or not, she’d get more than baked. She’d be fried. “Okay, well then, how’s Mason?” She bent her knees and drummed her fingers on her thighs.
“That’s work talk,” Mya shot back.
“Mason is also your go-to for sex, so I think the subject is fair game.”
Mya placed her glass on the table and switched to her side, propping her head up and staring at Sydney for a few beats. “Fine.” There was an eye roll behind those sunglasses, Sydney was sure of it.
She’d known Mya and Alice for as long as she could remember. Basically forever. Their fathers had all gone to Yale at the same time. Mya’s dad was now a prominent judge in New York City. Alice’s father was a senator. And Sydney’s father? He ran one of the most successful defense companies in the world. Built it from the ground up with a small loan and nothing more. Her dad had been happily telling his own Bezos-Amazon-in-a-garage nothing-to-something story long before Amazon even existed.
Maybe she was being unreasonable wishing the affair had been enough for her father to cut ties with Alice’s family. It hurt knowing her dad still vacationed with the Morrisons, and Alice was often on board the yacht or at whatever island they were visiting.
The fact that the Archer–Morrison outings doubled in frequency since Sydney left the family company to work for Carter and Gray at Falcon Falls had her wondering if her old man was playing dirty. Payback for disconnecting herself from the Archer empire.
“You’re heir to the throne. If you don’t take over, then it’s up to Levi,” her dad had said on her way out the door last year, and she knew that was a threat.
She loved the man, but he loved his company more. And no way would she budge on her decision and go back to the family business regardless of how many games her father played. She’d never let him get to her son and force him into a life he didn’t want the way he’d once done to her after she’d left the Army.
Sydney reset her focus on the topic at hand. “Well, are you going to follow up after your ‘fine’ comment?” She faked a pout. “Come on, give me something juicy since my love life is beyond repair, and neither of us want to talk about the only thing I do well. Work.”
Mya grunted. “You do a lot of things well. You just don’t let anyone know there are more sides to you than the all-business-don’t-mess-with-me version people see.”
Sydney waved a hand in the air. “Oh, Miss Investigative Reporter, you’re so good at changing the subject. But no, back to you. To the handsome Mason Matthews.”
Sydney knew Mason, and his older brother, Connor, as well. Not in the way Mya knew Mason, of course. Absurdly rich people often knew other absurdly rich people, and that was the case with the Matthewses and the Archers. Before Mason and Connor’s father died, he’d worked in a similar industry to her family.
“I’m not a journalist anymore,” Mya reminded her.
Okay, that was technically true, but her research and investigative skills, combined with her incredible ability to track people around the world, were the skills Sydney was interested in for Falcon. And it would be nice to have another woman out in the field since she was surrounded by a sea of testosterone on a regular basis. Story of her life though since West Point, she supposed.
“Yeah, you gave up journalism to work with Mason to hunt human traffickers.” Mason and Connor had been Marines before entering the private security sector, now doing similar work to Falcon Falls. Not that they were competitors since they were both trying to do good in the world, but she had no problem stealing Mya away from the Marines to the Army side.
“Believe me when I say nothing serious has ever happened or will ever happen with Mason,” Mya was quick to say. “We used each other for sex when we were horny. That’s it.”
Horny. Yeah, Sydney had realized she was horny and then some last night when alone in her hotel suite.
“I need to stop sleeping with Mason. Nothing is going to come from it. I’m ready for the new me. No more sex with that man.” She dug into her beach bag and showed Sydney her current read. “I’m trying to learn to break my bad habits at least.”
Sydney had brought her own book, but it was far from a self-help one.
Mya flicked a finger at the cover. “You should read this when I’m done. This author, Joe Dispenza, has some pretty riveting ideas about manifesting and the universe. I love it.” She tucked the book back into her bag before relaxing on the lounger again.
“I’m sure he does.” Sydney smiled. “So, uh, this new you . . . is that why you dyed your hair? Went from blonde to brunette?” The color did look great on her best friend. Technically, Mya had never been a natural strawberry blonde anyway.
“It was that or cut it all off. I opted for a color change.” She casually shook her head. “All I know with one hundred percent certainty is that sleeping with Mason also screws my chance of ever finding someone to love.”
“And you don’t love him?” Honestly, Mason was another reason she believed her friend should work at Falcon Falls.
If Mya truly wanted to change the dynamics of her relationship with Mason, she needed to put a little space between them. Stop working together for a bit. It’d be a win-win for both Sydney and Mya if she joined the team.
“We love each other like friends who also have sex,” Mya said with a laugh. “But not the passionate and intense kind of love that makes your stomach hurt when you’re not together. I don’t actually know if I’ve ever experienced that before.”
“Love that hurts?” Sydney grimaced. “Shouldn’t it do the opposite?”
“I don’t know.” She dramatically tossed her arm into the air. “We haven’t had sex in months. A few close calls, but I resisted. Gave myself an orgasm instead.” Mya leaned over the side of her sunbed and combed her fingers through the sand before reaching out to snatch something from Sydney’s bag this time. “You brought a book too, huh?” She grinned. “And whaaat? You reading a romance novel? I don’t believe it.” She sat upright once again and positioned her legs on each side of the sunbed while studying the book.
Sydney didn’t bother to budge from her fixed position since she decided she really did feel lazy. Crazier things had happened. Like starting that book last night, which had sent her libido into overdrive. She hadn’t needed much of a push since it’d been so long since she’d been touched. Not even by her own hand.
“Okay, for as long as I’ve known you, the only things you’ve read are biographies and Sun Tzu’s The Art of War –type stuff. Not something with a badge-wearing cowboy on the cover.” Mya pushed her shades into her hair and brought the book closer as if needing a better look.
“The book wasn’t my idea.” It was the truth, but now Sydney was kicking herself for not reading a book like that sooner. Damn, that author could write a sex scene. Maybe it’d turn her “not good enough in the bedroom” situation into “more than enough.”
Why am I thinking about Seth? He sure as hell wasn’t who I was thinking about last night. Screw that man.
“So, it fell into your bag, huh? You brought it to the beach, so you’re not trying to hide it from me if you were planning to read it here.” Mya casually flipped through a few pages.
“I don’t get embarrassed. I couldn’t care less about who sees me reading a romance novel. The guy on the cover could be naked for all I care.” She paused, knowing that wasn’t the answer Mya wanted, then changed the subject. “You know Griffin Andrews from Falcon?”
“The hot one?” Mya smiled. “Wait, they’re all hot. The one with the Southern accent?”
“I think they’re all Southern. Well, originally, at least. The one who married Savanna.”
“Oh. Savanna’s the one who, um, lost her Navy SEAL husband years ago? Yeah, I remember him now.” Mya’s tone was soft, a gesture of respect for Savanna’s loss.
“Well, back in January, my team was working an op in France, and Savanna came along.” Sydney shook her head when Mya opened her mouth to no doubt ask why. “It’s too complicated, so don’t ask. The point is during that trip, I learned that Savanna loves to read romance novels. So, the last time Griffin and I worked an op, he gave me a stack of books. Said his wife wanted me to have them. I think she got the idea that I’m lonely and sad. Maybe she thought I needed some fictional heroes to keep me company. I don’t know.”
“Huh.” Mya continued to thumb the pages of the novel. “Wherever would she get that idea? I mean, surely, she also witnessed your badassery?”
As a matter of fact, yes. Both Savanna and Jesse’s wife, Ella, had witnessed Sydney kill a few bad guys in France. Not that Sydney was happy about it, and she wasn’t sure if she’d define her actions that night as anything other than just doing her job and protecting Savanna and Ella. Badass? Hardly.
Anyways. She didn’t want to think about that operation. It’d been a tough one, but with a happy ending since it had brought Ella and Jesse together finally. And now they were going to have a child.
“Griffin must have blushed when he gave you the books.” Mya chuckled. “And did your former college beau have anything to say about it?” She lifted the book as a reminder of what she was talking about.
“Gray knows better than to comment.” Sydney had dated Gray Chandler, who co-ran Falcon Falls, when they were both at West Point. But that was a long time ago. She was thirty-seven now, and she hadn’t even been legally allowed to drink when they’d been together.
“Do you think Gray hopes there’s still a spark there? You two were quite the scandal back at West Point from what I remember,” she teased.
“The only scandalous thing about our relationship was that he was a Firstie, and I was a Plebe. Against the rules.” Seniors, known as Firsties at West Point, weren’t allowed to date Plebes, aka freshmen. Not that I was great at following rules back then. “He thought I was Sydney Bowman. He didn’t even know that I’m an Archer until our paths crossed again last year. Not the best way to start a relationship, right? You know, with a lie. So no, there’s no spark between us anymore.” Gray had been a great guy in college, and he still was, which was why she wanted to work with him at Falcon. But he hadn’t been the one . There is no “the one” for me though. Screw it. “I’d rather talk about fictional men. Or work. Not my love life.”
“Fictional men it is,” Mya responded. “I spend most of my time reading reports on human trafficking, so I think I should switch things up. You bring any other books with you? I don’t want to take the cowboy sheriff away from you.”
“I have another,” Sydney confessed with a sly smile. And maybe she didn’t want Mya taking away the cowboy now that she had a soft spot for that fictional man.
“I happened to watch two seasons of Bridgerton last week. I think the show is based on a book series, and let me tell you, those men make me want to go back in time and be properly courted.” Mya winced a beat later. “Well, aside from losing women’s rights and all. And having my father offer a dowry to a dude to take me off his hands is grotesque and something he’d probably support even now.”
“Your dad worries about you, but he loves you.”
“My dad is a lying, cheating ass.”
“Wait, what?” Sydney blinked in surprise. This was news to her. How long had Mya been keeping that bit of information to herself? But why’d she get the feeling that wasn’t the reason Mya had been on guard for the last twenty-four hours when they were there to relax? Unless the idea of working with me makes her nervous?
“I don’t want to talk about it, but my parents are separated. It seems my dad has been sleeping his way through New York.” Mya lightly patted the top of the book. “I’m going to need another mimosa.” She frowned. “How about you tell me about the hot cowboy in this book.” She lifted one hand like a request to let go of the topic of her dad. Discussing cheating wasn’t exactly Sydney’s favorite thing anyway, and Mya knew that.
“Well, okay. Yeah, I’d say the cowboy delivered.”
“Who’d you picture for your man candy while reading since his face is hidden on the cover?” Mya grinned, her mood lightening up again. “And damn, woman, I really do need to take up reading if it’s got you blushing right now. A rare sight to see.”
“It’s the sun,” she lied. “But if I were to blush, you’d probably be the only one to ever witness it happen.”
“Okay, so spill. Who’d you fantasize about when reading about the good sheriff?” She shifted her sunglasses back in place. “Or was he bad? Wink wink.”
“I think you’re actually supposed to wink, not say that.” At least they were both smiling again.
“Right, right. So . . .? I need answers because based on your absence of speech, the guy you have in mind is someone you know.” Mya sat taller with excitement.
“The only men who hit on me lately want something called a situationship. Hell if I know what that means. Not together but together?” She shrugged. “ Or they call me a MILF. Right to my damn face.” What happened to a real man? A gentleman? Someone who treated a woman right. Took her out on dates and asked her questions with the purpose of getting to know her, not just getting her in the bedroom. “And these guys are babies. Barely thirty. I swear I don’t understand the new trend of these young guys wanting an older woman. While men my age want younger women.” Alice is my age. She’s thirty-seven. Seth chose her. Damnit, don’t think about them right now.
“You’re stalling. Borderline blabbering, which is so not your norm. Which means you don’t want to fess up about the real man who played the cowboy sheriff in your head last night.” Mya opened the book and began skimming pages again. “I’ll find a hot scene and read it aloud until you tell me his name. You know I’ll do it.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” Sydney laughed, reaching for her glass, having forgotten it was empty.
“Oh, this part is spicy.” Mya traced one of the lines with her finger, her lips tipping up into a smirk. “ ‘That’s quite the penal code you have there, Sheriff,’ she said as he unsheathed his weapon. ”
Sydney held her stomach while laughing, her ab muscles a little sore from the intense core-dominant yoga session that morning. “It does not say that,” she finally managed. “And you didn’t even use ‘penal code’ correctly.”
“I made you laugh, though, so let’s call it a wash. But this part here about the handcuffs is more than intriguing. Maybe I do need this book when you’re done.”
“No, the sheriff’s mine.” She hadn’t meant to react so quickly, but well, the words had come out. Sun and mimosas to blame. For sure.
Sydney squeezed her thighs together at the memory of the scene from the book she’d mentally role-played after reading last night. And the leading man had been someone she knew. A Southern, cowboy-hat-wearing sheriff with espresso-brown hair and the most incredible brown eyes she’d ever seen. They were a near match to how the author had described the sheriff’s eyes in the book. What had she called them? An antique cherry brown? Or maybe it was mahogany. Hell, some type of light wood.
But . . . damn. Beckett Hawkins, and the hands on that man too.
She’d done her best not to stare at him when he’d reached for an appetizer from a serving tray by her at Savanna and Griffin’s wedding last month, but the immediate image of his hand wandering over the slope of her ass cheek popped into her mind anyway.
And so last night, it only made sense for it to be Beckett she thought about. Wishing it was his fingers, not hers, coaxing her into orgasm.
“He’s a sheriff in real life, which is probably why I thought of him,” Sydney confessed when she’d only meant to think that thought.
“Oh?” Mya lowered the book to her lap and pivoted her way. “The sheriff with a daughter you mentioned meeting back in Alabama? That hot hunk of a man?”
“How do you know he’s hot?” Sydney challenged, knowing she’d never describe a guy that way.
“You blushed when mentioning him. Remember, you don’t do that often and only around me, so . . .”
Ah, damn Mya for that. But she was probably right.
Beckett had made an impression on her. He was a single parent like her. And maybe everyone called him grumpy or moody or whatnot, but she understood his protectiveness. They were alike in that regard as well.
“So, you pictured him while you got yourself off, huh?” Mya was loving every minute of this.
“I know what you’re thinking, and nothing will ever happen between us. I only thought of him because he’s the only small-town sheriff I know who also wears a cowboy hat. It made sense.”
Sydney sat up, an idea coming to mind. One that Seth had teased her about over the years, insisting she’d never do something as thrilling and shameless as tossing her top on a beach that wasn’t a nude one.
She was a totally different woman now than when she was married to him though. A “warrior,” right? Bold. Fierce. Enough.
So, Sydney went for the knot of her bikini top at her back and untied the strings.
“Topless, huh? Might draw attention to us.” Mya stowed the book back in Sydney’s bag as Sydney allowed the little black triangles to fall to her lap.
“Eh, let them look. Who cares, right?”
Mya pursed her lips for a moment as if she was on the verge of sharing whatever she was keeping from Sydney. “Sure. I mean, if we’re going to truly relax, I guess we go big or go home?”