CHAPTER NINETEEN
A lightness floated inside Angela’s chest. Adrenaline painted the ocean and sky vivid blues and made her feel invincible. Her heartbeat and thoughts were still too fast. She hadn’t been kidding. This experience must be what flying high, completely untouchable, was like.
The ocean was cold. The waves pulled back, but Angela was deep enough that the water covered her knees. She held out her arms as if to soak in all the warmth the world had to offer.
Another wave rolled toward her. Sawyer splashed as he ran into the water. The rolling wave crested, churning sand on its path. Sawyer scooped her as a wave hit. Laughing, Angela hooked her arm around his neck and squealed through the roaring onslaught of cold salt water.
Farther out, another wave formed. Sawyer cradled her to his chest and plunged deeper into the water.
“It’s coming.” She kicked her legs and waited until the last moment to bury her face in his neck.
His laughter and roaring water surrounded her. He waited until the last second before turning their backs to the wave. Her wet hair clung to her cheeks. The salt burned her eyes. But she didn’t care as he jumped the waves and dodged seaweed.
“Are you used to the water yet?” he asked.
“Nope.” Every time the water retreated, the wind blew over her skin. She held out her arm. “Goose bumps.”
“Then we have to go deeper.” He carried her until the water lapped at his chest. “Past the waves.”
Water pulled around them. “Sawyer…” He carried her until it reached his shoulders. “How deep are we?”
Angela kicked her legs again and tried to stand. The water covered her face. She pushed off the smooth sand and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can’t stand here.”
“But are you warmer?”
She considered. “Yes.”
His handsome grin made her insides wriggle. “Then mission accomplished.”
“If I let go, I’m going to drown.”
He laughed. “You know how to swim.” But his hands found the backs of her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist.
The heavy thud of her heart drummed louder than Mother Nature. The crystal-clear adrenaline high that had her rollicking with laughter had been replaced with a heavy feeling in her lungs and arms, a sensation so wonderful and terrifying that she was certain she might drown if Sawyer weren’t there to hold her up. Then again, Sawyer was the reason she couldn’t breathe.
This man was her friend. Her protector. Her bodyguard. She shouldn’t have a loopy, lightheaded desire to be this close, craving more. And the way he watched her made Angela’s stomach hit the sea floor and roll like a pummeling wave.
She should say something. Laugh. Joke. Hell, disappear under the cold water. But she couldn’t. His damp hair clung to his temples. Rivulets of salt water slid down his skin.
They were so close and not moving—until his palms skimmed over her thighs and ass and slid up her back. Angela could see her chest rise and fall in the water. Her breaths were too deep, but the oxygen wasn’t clearing her sun-kissed brain fog.
“You okay?” he asked.
She had to swallow before her voice allowed a small “yes.”
His forehead dipped to hers. His breath tickled her cheeks, and with her eyes closed, she felt his heartbeat thunder in his chest just like hers.
Angela opened her eyes. He was watching her. This close, she could see the flecks of ice blue in his irises. Her mouth watered for his, and she tilted her head as if too quick a move would change everything.
Sawyer’s soft lips brushed hers with a saltwater kiss sweet enough to boil her insides. His hungry hands kneaded into her sides, but his kiss tortured her. She melted in his arms. His mouth moved over hers, teasing, parting her lips with his tongue.
Desire rumbled in his chest, tangling with their kiss. Her tongue touched his. Electricity and insanity spiraled down her spine. She’d never known need this intense.
And then it ended.
Sawyer gently kissed her again. Chaste and sweet. He squeezed her close and then relaxed his grip. Angela wanted to scream. Her eyes opened. He was watching her again. This time, his eyes had a different look, one she hated.
His eyes pinched, and a sad smile hung on his beautiful face. “Sorry.”
The apology was too much. Her arousal morphed into anger. She wanted to ask questions, but all she could do was push away and tread the water. “Don’t say that.”
His grin hitched. “Then I’m not sorry.”
She didn’t like that either. Her lips pursed.
Sawyer grabbed her arm and pulled it to his neck. “I can’t let you drown.”
“I’m a strong swimmer,” she protested, looking to bicker. “I don’t need your help.”
Sawyer ignored her and guided them back toward the shore.
Sawyer didn’t want to let Angela go. When they reached shallower water, he could have given her space. Actually, he couldn’t. He didn’t want her angry and running off. But he let her go.
They walked out of the water, inches apart but miles away. Salt water slid down her face. The sun had turned her cheeks pink, and her hair was wild. But gone was the carefree happiness she’d radiated earlier. That was his fault. He should say something, but nothing had come to mind since the moment he realized he had crossed the line.
She’d crossed it with him.
That didn’t matter. They were in two very different places. Angela was rebounding from Paul, and Sawyer… Sawyer had a past that would always haunt him.
Years had passed since he’d been in love, not to mention in pain. That he could see similarities between the two women who were nothing alike terrified him, and it wasn’t fair to either woman.
Even thinking about that made him feel ill. There was more to his friendship with—and attraction to—Angela than he wanted to admit. The last week had avalanched over him in a way that he couldn’t have predicted and didn’t know how to make sense of.
“I’m exhausted.” She cupped a hand over her eyes and searched for the belongings she’d tossed. “And I’m shriveled up like a raisin.”
They had drifted. He spotted her hat and shoes but let her lead the way to where they had started. The water excursion hadn’t been planned. They didn’t have towels or chairs, but she sat in the sand at the edge of the waves’ reach.
Neither of them talked about what had just happened. He made himself comfortable at her side. Their legs extended in front of them.
Angela leaned back on her elbows. Should he say something? Sawyer didn’t know what to say, so he lay down and let the sun beat against him.
Maybe he should have let her pull together an agenda for the day because he didn’t know what to do next.
A football skidded across the water and bumped against his knee. Sawyer palmed it, saw the kids who had been throwing it—they looked very similar to the kids from the beach house—and lofted the ball. They squealed in delight and were definitely the same kids.
“I know those shrieks,” she said.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw the canopy that the family had staked up. A woman raised her arm to thank him for throwing the ball.
The ball sailed back toward Sawyer but fell short a few yards. Grateful for the distraction and unable to resist a football, he lumbered off the sand and returned the throw.
A kid threw back with increased accuracy.
“Nice throw,” Sawyer called.
Angela pulled her hat on and then leaned onto her elbows again. “Looks like you made a friend.”
Her voice didn’t have the slightest sound of irritation as after he’d kissed her in the ocean. Partly relieved but semi-disappointed, he laughed and lofted the ball back.
Delighted shrieks ensued again. Angela smiled. He did too.
“Give me a minute. Football duty calls.”
“Take your time,” she replied. “I’m going to dry off and search for my dignity.”
So she hadn’t forgotten about the kiss. He didn’t know what to say, so he winked. “It’s probably with mine.”
Angela laughed. Thank God.
He jogged toward the kids. “You guys wanna throw the ball?”
They mostly screeched and shrieked instead of talking, but he rolled with it, tossing the football back and forth. Sometimes Sawyer pitched it high toward the overhead sun and let it divebomb straight into the sand. Other times, he jogged circles around the kids, faking them this way and that. Most often, the kids didn’t come close to landing a catch. But when they did, Sawyer joined in the celebration like they had caught Super-Bowl-winning touchdowns.
He bowed out of another round of toss when the kids were called for more sunscreen, and his stomach growled.
Angela clapped for him as he jogged back. “Who knew you had such skills?”
Sawyer held out a hand and helped her up. “I grew up playing with anything with a ball. Football. Basketball. Soccer. I’m a regular jack-of-all-trades.”
“No, I mean with little kids. You’re a natural.”
He glanced over his shoulder. The kids squirmed as their parents slathered them in sunblock. Yeah, he was good with kids and had always thought so. “They’re fun.”
“Do you have any younger siblings?
“Nope.” He gave Angela a once-over. “You look like you could use sunscreen too.”
“You always change the subject when it comes to you,” she chided.
“Do I?” He shrugged. “Are you hungry?”
“See?” She pointed at him but admitted, “I’m starving.”
“Then let’s go eat.”
They picked up the pace toward their beach house. His mind drifted in circles, from kissing Angela to avoiding conversations. He checked over his shoulder again but couldn’t see anyone they’d left behind on the beach. If life hadn’t broken him down, would he be one of the families who dotted the beach, playing in the sand and surf? Sawyer didn’t see why not.
They arrived at their beach house and used the outdoor shower to wash off the sand.
“Oh, that’s cold.” Angela rubbed sand off her legs where his hands had just been. Sawyer bit his tongue before offering to help and then took his time with his much-needed cold shower.
As sand-free as they could manage, they sluiced off and dripped inside into the air conditioning. Shivering, Angela rushed upstairs. “I need a minute in hot water.”
He walked into the bathroom on the main floor, confident she’d take more than a minute. Sawyer showered away the salt water and was dressed before the water in the upstairs bathroom was turned off. He studied the law enforcement reports while he waited.
They held nothing but the facts. Two dead bodies. Gunshot wounds. Identification had been found for Mark Hathaway and Tabby Foster, Mylene’s husband and sister.
Mark and Mylene. He played the married couple’s name over in his head. The names sounded good together. Mark and Tabby? That sounded just as nice but would have been a shit move.
Sawyer picked up a photo dated a year before the murders. Mark and Mylene looked good together too, though looks could be deceiving. Had this man been sleeping with his wife’s sister? The photograph wouldn’t tell Sawyer anything. Neither would Angela’s toothbrush theory.
As he tossed the photo onto the table, footsteps came down the stairs.
“Okay, that took more than a minute,” Angela said, entering the room. “But I rushed.” Damp hair hung over her shoulders. “Sort of.” Her cheeks were too rosy from the time she and Sawyer had spent on the beach. “I need to go buy a bottle of aloe after we eat. My shoulders.” She peeled the neck of her shirt down. “Might hurt later.”
Angry skin surrounded her fair tan line. “Ouch,” he said.
“Could be worse.” She scanned the table. “Has anything jumped out at you?”
“A whole lot of nothing.”
Looking further at the table, she eyed a binder labeled Welcome Guests that had an illustration of their beach house. “Did you find a place for lunch?”
As if on cue, his stomach rumbled again. “There’s a food truck we can find up the street.” Sawyer grabbed a set of car keys hanging from a hook near the door. “I checked the reviews. All pretty good. Most say to order the crab cake sandwich and let them dress it their way.”
Angela picked up her sun hat. “Sounds tasty.”
They arrived in the parking lot where the food truck had been permanently set up, and they weren’t the only ones who had searched out the well-reviewed crab cake sandwiches. A long line of locals and tourists waited. “That bodes well,” she said.
Tables and umbrellas occupied several parking spaces. A long, umbrellaed table held coolers of drinks and condiments. Sawyer eyed the line. Very few people in the world knew where Angela was at the moment, but it still made Sawyer nervous for her to be without a Kevlar vest, surrounded by strangers.
Angela found a table and stayed out of the sun while Sawyer ordered more food than they could eat. Under the guise of scanning for threats, he watched her while he waited. She was magnetic. Even though her face was hidden under a sun hat, he could picture her dark eyes and smile. The memory of her lips had imprinted itself in his brain. With instant recall, he remembered the way their legs had tangled and their stomachs had touched. He could almost feel her soft curves wrap around his waist.
“Number five-eighty-two.”
The announcement of their order number pulled Sawyer to reality. He released a breath. How in the hell had he said no to Angela’s suggestion on the plane of no-strings-attached get-togethers? He rubbed the back of his neck, more than a little disappointed in himself.
He retrieved their food and delivered enough to feed a small family to the table where Angela sat. They chowed down. The reviews were correct. The sauce on the crab cake sandwich was perfect, and the hush puppies and fried shrimp were the real deal too.
Sawyer hadn’t realized how much energy the sun had taken out of him until he started to eat. Hunger morphed into sleepiness. Now, he wanted a nap.
Better than that, he wanted to fall asleep next to Angela, just as they’d slept on the jet that morning. But given… everything … that wasn’t a good idea.
Hell. His desiring her like this was getting worse by the second. Sawyer threw a fried shrimp into his mouth. Maybe his approach was wrong. Maybe she had the right idea. They kissed. He’d pulled back because he was much too in his head. They could get physical so long as they didn’t become intimate. Exactly as she’d suggested.
That was what she wanted, after all. Who was he to say no to Angela? With parameters, he could box himself in and be cautious. “Let me ask you a question.”
She recapped her water bottle. “Shoot.”
“It has to do with your question on the plane.”
Angela’s eyes jerked toward him, but she feigned unaffectedness in a way that left him wanting to peel back her layers. “Hmm?”
Sawyer took another bite of his crab cake sandwich and chewed slowly. Perhaps he should’ve considered exactly what he wanted before bringing it up. “You said practice.”
A blush further reddened her sunburned cheeks. Angela maintained a forced, practiced calmness that made his heart gallop laps around the parking lot.
“That’s what I said,” she agreed.
“Do you want to tell me more about what you were thinking?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“I asked nicely,” he teased.
She glanced at the busy tables around them. They weren’t close enough to be heard, and even if they were, most people were involved in touristy conversations or glued to their phones. “Why?”
He shrugged casually, belying the nervous electricity tightening in his chest. “You caught me off guard.”
“ You caught me off guard in the water.”
His lips curled. “I don’t know. That felt like it was going to happen whether we liked it or not.” He crossed his arms and cocked his head. “I liked it, in case you were wondering.”
“You apologized.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “I apologize for the apology, sweetheart.”
She glared, but he could’ve sworn she did so only to hide her smile.
“Will you tell me more?” he asked again.
“No.”
“Ahh.” He put a hand over his heart. “That hurts.”
“Give me a break, Sawyer. When I said that…” She wrapped both hands around her water bottle. “We were in this dark, warm, safe cocoon.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “In the light of day… that seems like a crazy ask. An inappropriate one.”
He eyed her. “Inappropriate is subjective.”
She blinked hard, and pink tinted her cheeks again. “True…”
Angela had said “practice.” That idea had an end goal he could work with. They would return home and stay friends. “Not exactly friends with benefits. But more like a situationship.”
Her unreadable stare offered no answer.
“Ange?”
“I don’t get the difference between the two.”
“Friends with benefits is more, ‘I’m bored, let’s hook up,’ and this would be more, ‘Kissing you at the beach was better than my vivid imagination, and I want to do it again.’”
Her jaw fell open.
Sawyer added his last selling point. “Given what happened in the water, I think it would be very, very fun.”
Her face broke. She half laughed. “Yeah. But here’s the catch, remember? I…” She pushed her loose hair behind her ears. “Have no experience with any of this. My last relationship was such a dud that it was a business plan I didn’t notice.”
“Ange, you fuckin’ stopped my heart with that mouth of yours. So let’s consider that you may not realize you know what you’re doing, but”—he inched closer and lowered his voice—“you’re amazing at it.”
Her jaw fell open again, and her pink cheeks turned scarlet. “Oh my God, would you stop?”
“Only because you asked.” She had no idea what it was like to be wanted. His pulse strummed in his neck.
“Kissing you.” She shook her head and avoided meeting his eye. “That was the exact opposite of Paul or anything in my past. And I don’t—I can’t—”
“You sure as hell did something earlier.” He finally caught her gaze. “You can do that again.”
“I don’t know what I did. It was nothing like with—”
“We’re not talking about the past, remember?” That was one of the reasons this arrangement would work so well for him too. “We’re talking about a here-and-now situation that’s…” Mutually beneficial? No, he wanted more than great sex.
“Exploratory,” she offered with an endearing mixture of nervous energy and excitement. “ Experimental —”
His eyebrow arched. “Fun.”
Angela inhaled and squared her shoulders. “Fun.”
He grinned. “You suddenly look terrified.”
“I kinda think I’m going to pass out or puke.”
He couldn’t stop from laughing. “That’s the way to get into my pants.”
She smacked his arm. “Sawyer Cabot.”
He didn’t miss his moment. Sawyer tugged her out of her chair and into his lap. Just like in the ocean, her arm slid behind his neck as though they’d fallen into bed a hundred times before. Sawyer was acutely aware of his heartbeat. It drummed slowly and heavily in his chest, mismatched with his breathing, which now felt like a tornado in his throat. He had to think to breathe, which was a hell of a problem. “All jokes aside. Do you trust me?”
Her breath hitched. “Without question.”
So neither of them could take a steady breath. He liked knowing that what was happening to her was the same as what was happening to him. Sawyer wanted to be back at the beach house and carry her off to bed. He wanted to overwhelm her world so that all she could do was think of him. But something in her eyes told him they weren’t there yet. “What is it?”
She closed her eyes and kept them shut while she sighed. Finally, she refocused on him shyly. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Ange—”
“Or bore you—”
“ Angela —”
The piercing ring of a cell phone made her jump. She sucked in a quick breath and pulled out of his arms to retrieve her ringing phone from her bag. “It’s Parker.” She answered the call. “Hey.”
Sawyer studied her switch from curious and uncertain to the no-nonsense woman who set agendas for fun. He liked both sides of her. Just then, though, he really wished she were back in his lap.
Angela pulled her notebook and pen from her purse and scribbled as Parker peppered her with information. Finally, the call ended.
“What’s Parker have to say?” Sawyer asked, suddenly uncomfortable with the possibility that this trip could wrap up quickly.
“Well,” she said, still in business mode, “he confirmed what we already knew about my mother blowing my cover. Pham didn’t know I was working for Titan. They only found out because Pham’s network had been trailing her for years. When she arrived in Abu Dhabi without a public agenda, they put two and two together and posted people all over the city.”
Senator Sorenson should’ve known better. But Sawyer didn’t have to say that. Angela knew. “What else?”
“Mylene’s and Mark’s family still live in the area. We could go talk to them.”
Talking to relatives? That wasn’t Sawyer’s bailiwick. No one wanted a heartbreaking past to knock on the door without warning. “What else?”
“Parker has learned more about Pham’s public-facing business network. There are several shell companies semi-associated with his network in the area. They follow the Interstate 95 corridor from North Carolina to Delaware.”
“What do we do with that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Parker’s trying to find any real estate associated with them that might raise red flags.”
Sawyer frowned. What constituted a red flag? They didn’t have the resources to check everywhere, and even if they did, red flags were often red herrings. Angela had been rescued from a commercial warehouse in a run-of-the-mill industrial complex. Titan had rescued many people from locations that would not raise red flags. Pham’s people could hide Mylene Hathaway in the backroom of a burger joint or the basement of an office building. “I guess that’s a start.”
“Parker has his ways,” Angela said, sounding like she needed the encouragement as much as Sawyer did. “We could go talk to Mylene’s parents.”
Back to dredging up people’s pasts. What would the two of them learn that wasn’t in the investigative reports they’d yet to comb through? “What are our other options?”
“We could try to find Mark’s family?”
Sawyer bristled. “Talk to the family about their dead child? Not unless we have to.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Back to the paperwork?”
Or the beach. The ocean. Seclusion… But Angela’s attention was focused on Mylene. His was stuck on the conversation prior to Parker’s call. “That’s probably best.”
Angela adjusted her hat and gathered her trash. The only redness left on her cheeks was from the sun. He tossed the car keys in the air and caught them, deciding to bring that heat back as quickly as possible.