4. Aiden
On any given day, sunrise is my favorite slice of time. But not today.
Usually, the first thing I do is head out for a run on the beach. But not today.
Not because a thunderbolt was delivered straight to my gut last night when Kate blew into The Cove. And not because my brothers and our friends had a million questions I couldn’t answer after she left.
No, this morning, as the first light of dawn breaks over the horizon, I’m pulling out of my driveway and heading east like I do every day, but today, it’s because I need to secure Love Beach. Not that I expect a soul to be out there this morning. Not in this weather.
An eerie glow fills the sky. Shades of crimson, rust, and violet filter through the thick veil of low-lying clouds. Flashes of lightning illuminate their dark undersides miles in the distance. The usual tranquility is absent as the sun barely edges above the horizon. The air is charged with electricity, and the salty tang of seawater taints the whipping wind.
Gusts bend palm trees and stir a sense of unease in my chest that’s in no way due to Kate’s unexpected appearance. No, the foreboding is thanks to Tropical Storm Aiden, now less than three hundred miles offshore and still projected to make landfall tomorrow within ten miles of here.
It’s a good thing, as Director of Lifeguard Services for the Love Beach Fire Department, I’m the one responsible for ensuring no daredevil with a death wish so much as dips a toe in the water today. Because if I didn’t have a job to do, there’s a chance I’d turn inland instead, heading toward Donna’s house.
Kate’s aunt spent years trying to convince me to follow her niece, so there’s no doubt in my mind she’d tell me exactly where Kate is staying here in town. She’d tell me where I can track down the blonde whose image, standing there in The Cove, looking more gorgeous than ever, was one I couldn’t shake last night and still can’t now.
Donna’d tell me exactly where to look for the woman who kept me awake in bed, hour after hour, while I stared at the ceiling and reminded myself of all of the reasons I did the right thing eight years ago by sending her away. The woman Donna often reminds me is still single.
Not that it matters. If anything, my ex’s unexpected appearance confirms my decision to tell her to leave eight years ago was the right one. Because even though she was worn out when she rolled into The Cove last night, Kate Sullivan was stunning.
And even though the sight of her tore me to shreds, the fact she graduated twice over and is successful and following her dream is enough. Lord knows, if she’d stayed here in Love Beach for me, her story wouldn’t have been the same. I wasn’t good enough for her then, and especially now, she deserves more than a high school dropout.
But as I pull into my reserved parking spot near the main tower, my thoughts are ripped from the past and back into the present. A white van, with the National Storm Tracking Institute logo on the driver’s door, parked on the street sends my pulse racing. I’ve tracked down Kate without even trying.
Rather than relief or even anticipation, fury floods my veins. What the hell is she doing out here?
Before I even cut the engine, I’m halfway out the driver”s door, zipping my rain jacket. The brutal wind nearly knocks me over as I scan the area, holding up a hand to block the sideways rain pelting every inch of my body.
It takes a minute to spot her again, and when I do, I can barely make out her figure halfway down the pier—which has never looked as flimsy as it does right now. But the blonde ponytail sticking out the back of a baseball cap is a clear tell, and the sight of her on her knees sends a primal urge ripping through every muscle in my body.
In seconds, I’ve covered fifty yards of beach, and I’m hurling down the pier. As I come up on her, I’m prepared to rake her over the coals. But the beaming smile on her face as she glances up from some sort of device in her hand stops me cold.
A million memories surface at that same smile, and those same green eyes, and the way they always made me feel. The way they still make me feel.
Until the delicate curve of her lips fades and she stands to face me, her feet firmly planted as she grabs the railing and pins me with another look I’ve seen before. One that means she’s ready to square off as if we’re in a boxing ring instead of on the pier twenty yards out over the water. But the set of her chin is different this time. It’s sending the message loud and clear.
She’s not going to do as I ask this time around.
So I go for logical. It’s always been the way to reason with Kate. And the way I convinced her to leave.
“You can’t be here,” I say, loud enough to be heard over the whipping wind.
“Says who?”
I’m smart enough to realize ‘says me’ won’t cut it.
“Says the Love Beach Fire Department.”
Her brow furrows. “Are you a firefighter?”
“No.”
“A paramedic?”
“Not exactly.”
“What are you then?”
The man who loves you. Still.
The truth of it hits me with the force of a tidal wave. There’s no denying it, but I can’t say it aloud. I can’t confess how I feel because it might change everything between us, and I can’t risk that. I’ve suffered too long to ruin the one thing I did right by Kate.
“I’m a lifeguard.”
Her gaze drops to the logo on my red windbreaker. “Oh.”
“Not bad for a high school dropout, huh?”
She scowls and launches into chastising me the same way she always used to. “You stop that talk, Aiden Landry. Just because you were too busy working to make it to school didn’t mean you weren’t capable. Hell, you—”
“Kate,” I warn, but she just keeps right on going.
“—were smarter than half of those—”
“Kate!” I snap, cutting her off because her safety is a hell of a lot more important than the way she wants to run me through the ringer. “The double reds are flying.”
I motion toward the lifeguard tower, a brick structure shaped like a lighthouse, built four years ago and designed to withstand sustained one hundred mile per hour gusts. Her gaze follows, narrowing on the flags at the top of the pole flapping in the wind, but rather than concede, even though she’s soaked to the bone, she shakes her head.
“The flags are for the water, which, as you can see, I’m not entering.”
I run a hand through my sopping hair, cursing this woman and her stubbornness. “I need to secure the beach, so I can report to the emergency response headquarters.”
“Go. I’m not stopping you. I have credentials to be here.”
“The tide’s coming in, and the storm surges are sure to arrive anytime now.”
“There’s currently no evacuation order in place for the beach.”
Grrr, this woman. I’d pick her up over my shoulder and carry her out of here myself if I thought it would help, but I’m not there…yet.
“It’s not safe.”
“You’re here,” she tosses back, planting a hand on her hip.
Only because you are, honey.
“I’m trained.”
She lifts a shoulder. “So am I.”
“In hurricane conditions?”
A pause and then with less bravado, “In theory.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m here on behalf of the NSTI,” she insists, lifting her chin. “And I have work to do securing this bottom-mounted pressure transducer, so if you’ll excuse me.”
She hoists a black duffel bag at her feet onto one shoulder, but the heft, along with a gust of wind, lands her smack against my chest. My arms automatically wrap around her, holding her steady. She fits perfectly against me and doesn’t shove off right away.
No, she stills, and for a moment, as we stand there exposed in the thick of the storm, everything around us melts away. The wind quiets, and the lightning ceases, and the rain droplets seem to hang in midair rather than batter us. And it might be my imagination, but she seems to sense too, that in my arms is exactly where she belongs.
Until she wrenches away and tries to brush past me. I take one step and block her path, crossing my arms in front of my chest. She scowls up at me, and I’m about to scoop her up and carry her to safety, but our phones simultaneously sound with an unmistakable three-tone sequence that pierces the air and signals impending danger.
It’s the last thing I want to hear when I’m exposed on the pier in a standoff with a stubborn Kate Sullivan.