2. Chapter 1
Marissa
Present Day
“Sorry,” Derek said without looking up from his phone. “My assistant keeps texting me.” The man seated across from her seemed more interested in his phone than anything she had to say. But Marissa forced a smile anyway.
They’d been sitting inside Murphy’s Landing for nearly forty-five minutes, and she’d spent at least thirty of them watching him text.
As Derek’s thumbs flew across the screen, she turned her attention outside the window and contemplated leaving.
Rain pelted against the glass overlooking Piper Cove Harbor.
It was ironic that the dark, dreary gray of the ocean matched her melancholy mood.
“So,” Marissa tried again, “you own a marketing company?”
“Mm-hmm,” he murmured, too enamored with the contents of his cell phone.
She took a sip of her wine and silently cursed her sister Diana for convincing her that she needed to get back out there.
It was then, as the smooth liquid eased down her throat, that Marissa decided she was officially off the dating market.
Unlike Diana, who met her husband despite a dating app debacle, Marissa was pretty darn sure magic would not reign on the Sousa sisters twice.
Derek finally looked up. Then he quickly looked back down, a crease forming between his brows, as he scrutinized the screen and then peered up again. “You’re prettier than your pictures.”
“Thank you,” Marissa answered, not impressed by the comment.
His gaze lingered a little too long, brazenly flicking the tip of his tongue over his lip as he stared at her breasts. “You don’t look thirty-five.”
Marissa offered another polite smile. “Good genes, I guess.”
“My ex was the same age,” Derek said. “She looked older, though. That happens when you’re skin and bones like her. Too skinny for my taste.”
Something about the way he said it made her stomach tighten. “Is that right?” Marissa quipped. She didn’t like where this conversation was going.
“Yeah. She got boring.” His lips quirked up into a crooked smile as he moved his hand across the table toward hers. “I like women with a little fluff.”
Marissa yanked her hand back and placed it in her lap. A warning bell rang somewhere in the back of her mind. She needed to excuse herself before this date got worse. “Derek, I think I’m going to head home.”
“What?” His smile faltered. “Already? Our meals haven’t even been served yet.”
“It’s getting late.” It wasn’t. Not even close.
Yet she couldn’t take another minute of this farce.
The social worker in her had spent years learning to gracefully exit uncomfortable situations, yet her instincts told her to run before it got dark.
The guy was a sleazeball. And she could tell by the way he looked at her that he wasn’t interested in her beyond her body.
“Come on.” He waved toward the bartender. “Let’s get another round.”
“No, thank you. One drink is enough for me.” Marissa lifted her purse from the side of the chair and placed it on her lap. “Besides, you’ve already had three whiskeys.”
Derek leaned back in his chair. “You’re serious?” His expression darkened. “Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. I thought we were having fun.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Derek’s comment struck a nerve. Getting drunk was not her idea of having fun.
“Yes.” She pushed away from the table and stood from her chair. “I wish you the best.” Prickles rose down her spine as she noticed the irritation on his face sharpened as she turned to leave.
His chair scraped loudly across the floor as he bolted from it. In two long strides, he reached her, grabbing her by the forearm. “Come on, sweetheart.” The endearment sounded more like a warning.
“Derek.” Her heart hammered in her chest as she fought to retain her composure. “Let go.”
“You haven’t even given me a chance.” His fingers tightened. “You’re overreacting.”
Marissa noticed several diners staring, but only one man dared to intervene. His massive hand cupped over Derek’s shoulder. “She said she’s leaving.” His tone was lethal as familiar dark eyes assessed her. Eyes she thought she’d never see again.
Shane.
Adrenaline surged through her as she watched. As always, Shane was calm and steady, and his voice carried an edge of danger. Should Derek rebuke him, Marissa had no doubt Shane would beat the man into a pulp. He was a brute like that. Especially toward what he considered his.
“What the hell?” Derek immediately released her. “She’s not worth the trouble. She’s all yours.”
Suddenly, Marissa had forgotten how to breathe. She felt lightheaded as she swayed across the floor, desperate for fresh air and freedom.
“Marissa, stop.” His deep familiar voice called out as he bounded behind her.
She pushed the door open, her head pounding.
Rain poured down on her. Blond curls lay plastered to her head.
She wrapped her arms over the sodden white cotton shielding her breasts as the fabric clung to her.
Then she twisted around to face him. Nausea roiled, her head swimming as she crashed into a dark abyss.