Chapter 1 #3
She shrugged. “Books mostly. Though he asks me about plants, too. I think he’s scared of the Venus Flytrap.”
“It’s probably a Freud thing,” Ally said.
“What do you mean?” Juniper was confused.
“He probably sees it as the representation of a woman.” Ally frowned. “Or his mother. I don’t know. And he’s scared it’s going to eat him.”
Juniper tried not to laugh.
In the distance, she could see somebody walking up the beach, his gait familiar to her eyes.
It was Oliver. She’d bet her life on it. Who else in Angel Sands would be wearing all black clothes in this heat?
“Did Freud really say that about Venus Flytraps?” Harper asked. “Did he have any?”
It took her friends a minute to realize that Juniper had stopped talking. And that she was staring at the man getting closer to them.
“Who’s that gorgeous specimen?” Ally murmured, following Juniper’s gaze. “Not that I’m looking.” Ally was happily married to Nate, who ran the coffee shop in town.
“It’s Oliver,” Juniper told them.
“What?” Harper’s mouth dropped open. “That’s Oliver Sinclair?”
He was about twenty feet away, near enough to see the black outfit he was wearing were a pair of swim shorts and a sports t-shirt. He had a towel rolled up in his hands.
And he was smiling.
“I pictured him differently,” Ally said. “Like about fifty, with a potbelly and an overgrown beard. This man is seriously hot.” She shot Juniper a surprised look. “Why didn’t you tell us he was gorgeous?”
“I didn’t?” Juniper asked innocently.
“Nope.”
Juniper wrinkled her nose.
“Hey.” Oliver reached the set of towels where they were sitting. He smiled at her and she felt a weird twinge in her chest.
“Hi.” She desperately tried to think of something to say to him. But the only words in her head were ‘Muffin Man’.
If they escaped her lips, she was pretty sure she’d die.
“Well hello,” Ally said, jumping to her feet and saving the day. “You’re Oliver, right?”
He nodded.
“I’m Ally. Juniper’s friend.”
“And I’m Harper.” Her other friend was all too eager to shake his hand. They seemed to be enjoying this encounter way too much.
“You going swimming?” Ally asked, looking at his towel. “It’s a lovely day for it.”
“Yeah. Was planning on it.” He looked at Juniper again. And that’s when she remembered she was wearing the stupid bikini with the strings. The one that she only wore when her other swimsuits were dirty.
Bright yellow, it just about covered her up. But it was a close-run thing.
“You should go in, too,” Ally said, giving Juniper a pointed look. “Keep Oliver company. Swimming is always more fun when there’s more than one of you.”
Ugh, Ally was so obvious.
“Don’t you need my help to put the food out?
” she asked. That was one of the reason the three of them weren’t in the water with the rest of their friends.
They’d offered to arrange the picnic so that everybody could eat when they were out of the water.
Between them all, there were a lot of hungry mouths to feed.
Ally smiled brightly. “It’s fine. I’ve got it.” She looked at Oliver. “You’ll join us for something to eat after, won’t you?” she asked him. “There’s plenty of food to go round.”
His gaze caught Juniper’s. “Only if it’s okay.”
“Of course it is,” Harper said. But Oliver was still looking at Juniper. She gave him a slight nod.
He put his towel down on the sand next to theirs and kicked his shoes off, then pulled his t-shirt over his head.
“You ready?” he asked Juniper.
She nodded, but she wasn’t sure. She was used to him having his back to her as he pored over his laptop. Not looking like God chiseled his body in the bright Californian sun.
And her Porncenter fantasies were instantly back. Dammit, she thought she was over this.
“Off you go then,” Ally said pointedly.
“Have fun,” Harper added, grinning.
Juniper tried not to roll her eyes at them as she walked beside Oliver toward the ocean, the foam kissing her toes as they made it to the edge. And as he walked into the water, she turned around and narrowed her eyes at Ally and Harper.
They just laughed at her and started unpacking the picnic.
* * *
“I’m sorry about my friends,” Juniper said to Oliver as the two of them waded into the water. He was trying so hard not to look at her body.
But dammit, she was gorgeous. Yes, she looked good in a pair of shorts and a vest, but this bikini was something else.
And it had been way too long since he’d looked at a woman the way he was looking at her. Thank God the water had mostly covered her up.
But only mostly.
“They seem nice,” he said, resolutely bringing his gaze to her face. “Do you guys come to the beach often?”
She trailed her fingers over the surface of the water, making ripples appear. “Every Sunday. It’s kind of our thing.” She pointed at a group of men and kids splashing about. “They’re part of the group, too. That guy’s Ally’s husband, and James over there is married to Harper.”
He followed her gaze. “You have a lot of friends. That’s nice.”
“It must be hard to leave your friends in New York,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “I don’t have a lot of them.”
She blinked, looking surprised. “Why not?”
He shrugged. The water was almost up to his chest now. Her shoulders were just about brushing the surface. She turned to look at him and he was mesmerized by the way the ocean reflected in the dark of her eyes. “I guess I’m an introvert,” he told her. “I spend too much time with imaginary people.”
Juniper smiled. “That makes Simon your friend, then. And you have Chris. He’s a friend, too isn’t he?”
“We met on set, but yeah, we keep in touch.”
She nodded. “The whole town is protective of Chris and Chelsea. You should see us mobilize if the paparazzi turn up trying to get a shot. It’s like we all turn into ninjas.”
He laughed at the imagery.
“Do many people recognize you when you’re out?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “No. One of the best things about being a writer is how anonymous you are.”
“Well, my friends are your friends,” she told him, looking serious. “You can come here any Sunday you like.”
And it was weird, but he liked that idea very much. “Maybe I will,” he told her. “I can use it as a reward when I actually write some more words.”
“You’re still blocked?” she asked, sounding sympathetic.
He lifted a brow. You could say that. He’d been frozen up since Simon vaulted that car. “Yeah. I can’t get past this next scene.”
She dipped beneath the surface then suddenly rose up again, looking like some kind of sea goddess as she flipped her wet hair back and smiled at him. “Want to talk about it?”
He shrugged. “I just can’t work out why he doesn’t kill the villain and be done with it. He’s got a gun trained on him and his finger on the trigger. But the plot doesn’t work if he shoots him.”
“Maybe he recognizes them,” she said.
Oliver blinked. “What?”
Juniper shook the water from her hair. “Maybe they’re somebody from his past. He’s up close enough to realize that he knows them, and he hesitates.”
A little firework set off inside his gut. “Yes… but who is it?”
“Simon grew up in foster care, right?” Her brows pinched as though she were thinking. And it was so damn cute that she knew so much about Simon Jakes.
“Yeah, that’s right.” He nodded.
Juniper’s eyes caught his. “Maybe it’s someone he knew back when he was in care.”
It was like the firework exploded inside him, breaking down the barriers that had stopped him from seeing what happened next.
Of course, Simon knew his enemy. Realizing they were an old friend would put him off, even for the millisecond it would take for the villains to overpower him. “Shit,” he breathed, exhilarated.
“Not good?” she wrinkled her nose.
A smile pulled at his lips. “No, it’s perfect,” he told her. “Like absolutely brilliant. You’re a goddamn genius.”
She laughed. “Nobody’s ever called me that before.”
Before he could think better of it, Oliver reached for her, pulling her toward him, so damn happy that he could see a way forward for Simon. And then, when he realized what he was doing, she put her arms around his neck and he lost all sensible thought.
And kissed her.
Warm mouths. Salty lips. Soft tongues. Hands that stroked and caressed. She groaned against his mouth and he went hard as a rock.
Good Christ.
He pulled away, his eyes wide. What was he thinking?
“Oh God, I’m sorry.” Juniper’s face fell, as though it was her fault.
“No, I am.” He stepped back, completely embarrassed. “I got a little excited.”
“I could feel that,” she whispered.
Oh shit. And he was still throbbing. What was wrong with him? He needed to take a cold shower. Or…
“Ready to swim?” he asked his voice thick. The cold ocean would do the trick.
“Sure.” She sounded as embarrassed as he felt. “I’ll race you to the pier.”
* * *
Oliver spent the next three days holed up in the downstairs office, going through his manuscript chapter by chapter so he could foreshadow the meeting between Simon and Ronan – the boy he’d known in foster care who was now caught up in human trafficking.
He barely stopped to eat, didn’t swim or even come out of the office when Juniper was there.
On Thursday, he was reading through the amended chapters when his phone rang. His agent’s name flashed on the screen, and for once, he accepted it.
“Hey,” he said, rolling his shoulders to loosen the knots.
“Oliver, darling. I thought you must be lost at sea or something.” Camilla was an old school agent. Liked to know exactly what her authors were doing. Treated them like an angry mother when they handed manuscripts in late.
“I’ve been working,” he told her.
“You have?” Her voice rose an octave, which took it into ultra-high-frequency territory. “You mean you’re actually writing?”
“Yeah.” He smiled and winced at the same time. “I’ve had a breakthrough but it involves going through everything I’ve written so far to make it work.” But he knew it would. Juniper was a damn genius.