Chapter 17
KAI
My morning charter finished early after we hit our limit on yellowtail and one of the guys was looking a little green.
Even though seasick clients can make some good chum, I prefer to avoid it.
Dad came over as I adjusted the spring lines while Silas washed down the boat.
“I’d ask what you did to scare them off so fast, but by the size of their smiles, they didn’t seem disgruntled. ”
“One of them was ecstatic to be back on solid ground. All of them were happy with the cooler full of yellowtail.”
“Good job, son,” my father patted my shoulder.
“I learned from the best.” I grinned before turning to Silas. “You got this? I need to run.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Silas called back.
“Where you running off to?” Dad asked.
“I wanna go hang with the pups.”
“I told Reef you boys ought to leave them here. Seems crazy carting them back and forth when you’re barely living at your house.”
“I know,” I said, wondering how he knew where I’d been sleeping, “but they like their yard.”
“At least here they’d have company.” And so would he, which might be good for him. But the dogs were a lot.
“Alright, we’ll leave them with you tomorrow if you want. But you know they’re rambunctious and defiant.”
“Much like their owners,” he chuckled. “Labradors are a cake walk compared to you boys. And I managed to keep you in line.”
“You were a lot younger then,” I grinned.
“I’m not too old to kick your behind,” he bristled, but mainly for show.
“Don’t get your blood pressure up.”
Dad rustled my hair. “You’re lucky you found a pretty girl to put up with you.”
“I am,” I said, laughing to myself that she’d probably argue it was unlucky for her to end up stuck with me, threatened by drug smugglers.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her. Seems serious.”
It was awkward for us both that he was asking the questions Mom would have, if she were still around.
But I appreciated his effort. Not that I could tell him why I’d spent every night with Jasmine since we’d met, or that our relationship wasn’t the only serious situation we found ourselves in. “Yeah, it’s going good. We’ll see.”
Softly smacking the back of my head, he said, “Don’t screw it up.”
“Appreciate your confidence, Pops,” I laughed. “I’m doing my best.”
On my way to my Jeep, I pondered the paradox of the worst thing that ever happened to me also bringing me the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Jasmine had become the center of my universe, and keeping her safe my primary goal.
We were thrust into this “relationship” out of necessity.
But the need to protect her had morphed into needing her.
It was hard to distinguish my intense protective response from my feelings for her.
When someone else’s wellbeing is the thing you care most about in the world, isn’t that love?
I tried to keep the worst of my worries from Jasmine, but just being with her calmed me.
It helped that I hadn’t seen the car I thought was following me since the night of the barbecue.
After a tense couple of days, my nerves had settled and my paranoia had dissipated, at least a little.
Jasmine and I fell back into our easy routine, ignoring the elephant in the room for the most part.
With no sign of the smugglers, it was easier to pretend they weren’t out there.
I started to doubt what I thought I’d seen, wondering if it had been paranoid delusions.
It’s easier to believe what you want to be true.
Squinting into the harsh afternoon sun, I turned down my street and into the reprieve of the royal ponciana trees along the sides, their branches ablaze in blood-orange blooms. Those trees were the reason I wanted to live on this street.
Somehow they’d gone from bare to full bloom without me noticing.
My house didn’t really feel like home anymore.
The air was stale and musty. I felt like an intruder, creeping through the eerie silence.
Fisher and King mauled me when I opened the back door.
I laid in the grass, snuggling both of their necks.
“Did you guys get any squirrels?” I asked, staring up into the branches of the gumbo limbo tree.
King licked my cheek. “Is that a yes?” I laughed.
“Where is it? Where’s the squirrel?” I asked in the taunting voice he loved.
King popped to his feet and bolted for the base of the tree.
He sat, looking upward intently, his wagging tail fanning over the grass.
Fisher jumped up and followed, barking as he scanned the tree alongside King.
They whined and barked in turn, neither of them spotting a squirrel.
“You guys would starve if you had to hunt for your food. Have we taught you nothing?” The dogs cocked their heads in unison, ears perked.
“Maybe you do need more company. Want to hang with Gramps tomorrow?” I watched them, waiting as though I thought they might actually respond for a second. Maybe I was losing it.
“Come on,” I said, clambering to my feet. “Who wants to play ball?” I walked over to pick up one of the dozen tennis balls scattered around the yard. After about a thousand throws, my arm gave out.
“Reef will be back to get you soon. You guys better get a squirrel before he gets here. Go on, get a squirrel.” I waved toward the tree. They both just stared at me, each with a ball at their feet. “Fine, one more.”
I chucked the balls as far as I could, one after the other. The dogs scrambled after them. I opened the back door, yelling their way, “Fetching tennis balls is a useless skill, but you guys are killin’ it!”
I turned south onto US-1, singing along to Chris Stapleton, the wind blowing through my hair.
A black sedan two cars back caught my eye in the rearview.
A cold chill ran through me. It was a Chrysler 300.
No doubt about it. I passed Jasmine’s street without slowing down and kept going for another mile.
I decided to turn into the post office to see what they’d do.
I flipped the blinker and got in the center lane, slowing to a stop.
I turned to get a better look at the 300.
The same thug who’d accosted me in the Trading Post stared back at me, head turning as he passed.
It felt like slow motion and I was so locked in his gaze that I didn’t think to look at the license plate until it was almost out of sight. SDP or SOP, nine-something-something.
My sweaty palms gripped the wheel, turning into the post office lot. I pulled around back and stopped the Jeep, heart pounding. They’d continued on down the road, but he wanted me to know they were following me. I took out my frustration on the steering wheel with the side of my fist.
The smart thing to do would be to call Waylan and ask for help.
He’d put out an APB and run them out of the Keys.
But Waylan would tell Dad, and he’d worry himself sick.
He’d have to tell Ava. It’d be a full-blown family crisis within an hour.
And then every one of them would be at risk.
I tried to call Spence but it went straight to voicemail.
He and Reef were both fishing way offshore today.
Looking around for any sign of the 300, I debated calling Jasmine to meet me elsewhere.
But then what? We’d have to go back eventually.
My strong hesitation to go to Jasmine’s house for fear of leading them there was preposterous.
If they’d been following me, surely they already knew where she lived since I’d spent every night there since they’d terrorized us.
Fuck. I looked back at the highway. What if they were on the way there?
Jarred by panic, I spun out of the parking lot onto the Old Road.
Scanning for any car that might be a black sedan, I sped toward Jasmine’s bungalow.
The coast seemed to be clear so I turned down the driveway and pulled my Jeep all the way around the house to try to hide it from view.
Questions and doubt swirled in mind, while fear bubbled up in my chest. I didn’t want to scare Jasmine, but my protective mechanism kicked into high gear.
I needed to see that she was okay with my own eyes, and feel her in my arms to know that I was okay.
The door to her bungalow was unlocked. Jasmine was on a stool facing two easels in the breakfast nook, concentrating on adding brush strokes to one of the paintings.
No makeup, and her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, she’d never looked more beautiful.
My loving thought was immediately followed by the darker: if anyone ever tried to hurt her, I’d kill them.
“Hey, you,” she smiled up.
“How was your day, gorgeous?” I leaned down to kiss her, stopping to wipe a fuchsia-colored dot off her cheek. “You need to keep the door locked. Please.”
“Shit, was it open? Sorry, you’re right.”
“Better safe than sorry,” I said, careful not to make too big a fuss about it, since I hadn’t told her about the Trading Post encounter, nor the car following me since.
I admired the two paintings, taken by the detail.
She had worked on them for days, and it had paid off.
“These are next level, babe. They’re gonna love them. ”
“I hope so.” She crinkled her face like she worried they might not. “These two are basically done. I’ll start the last two tomorrow.”
Taking the brush from her hand, I placed it gently on the easel tray. Her clear green eyes sparkled with her warm smile as I pulled her by the hand to her feet. “I know so,” I said, circling my arms around her waist and pulling her close.
“Thank you for being so supportive. I know it was you who put Corinne up to this deal.”
“I just gave her your painting.” I smiled into her green eyes, my happy place.
“And a nudge, I’m sure.” She raised a brow, but her smile was soft. “Thank you. It’s an incredible opportunity.”
“No need to thank me. But you’re welcome.” I couldn’t tell her that I would do anything for her. Or that she made me feel things I’d only seen in movies. But I could show her.
“I really missed you today,” I said, shifting my hips against hers.
“Aww. I missed you too. How was fishing?”
“Great. We caught our limit. Dad was sure to point out that you’re my greatest catch though.”
“Really?”
“Really. He told me not to screw it up,” I said with a grin. “Which got me to thinking… I’d better be sure to take good care of you.” I dipped my head to land a kiss. “Fulfill your every desire.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She giggled as I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to her bedroom. It was more of an alcove off the living room, with French doors that were almost always open. Her grip around my neck loosened so that I could lower her onto the fluffy white comforter.
Her soft laugh still clung to me as I eased her down onto the bed.
I kissed her gently at first, slow and sweet, savoring the way she opened to me.
Her fingers traced the back of my neck, urging me closer, and I let myself drown in the warmth of her lips.
Sweet words spilled against her skin—how beautiful she was, how much I’d missed her— as I kissed my way down her body, tasting every inch.
That sweetness became hunger. I kissed her harder, desperate, sliding my hands over the curve of her hips, pulling her against me like I could fuse us together.
My thoughts grew raw, frantic: if I lost her, if anyone tried to take her from me, I’d burn the whole world down.
Every sound she gave me was proof she was mine.
“You take very good care of me, Kai,” she moaned.
Lifting my mouth just long enough to answer, I said, “Get used to it.”
Her scent stirred a hunger, her taste made me ravenous. She was sweet, yet savory, and the combination made my cock ache. My whole body craved her but my tongue was charged with the task of melting her, at least once, before I could have my way.
Her thighs clenched around my head, and I pushed her further, devouring every sound made.
When her release shook through her, I licked her slowly, dragging it out until she sagged back onto the pillows.
I kissed a trail up her stomach, savoring, and pressed inside her with a groan that tore from my chest. She was slick and hot, gripping me so tight it drove all coherent thought away.
“Fuck, Jasmine,” I rasped against her ear, thrusting deep.
She arched beneath me, nails carving my shoulders, chanting my name like a prayer.
Sweet words tangled with filthy ones as I told her she was mine, that no one would ever touch her but me.
My hips slammed harder, desperation clawing through me.
Every thrust was part need, part promise.
She kissed me back wild, biting my lip, whispering she wanted more, harder, now.
And I gave it to her until the bed creaked and my body threatened to break apart.
Her cries turned ragged, matching mine, until we both crashed over the edge together, tangled in sweat and heat and a need that felt endless.
Sweaty limbs entangled, I held her tight.
“I’m kind of glad you’re stuck with me," I said with a shaky laugh. “Will you stick around after the bad guys leave us alone?” I was only half joking.
“I mean, it kind of seems like they already have. Not that I’m complaining about having you around all the time, and alllll the orgasms. But, honestly, you can stay at home now if you want. I think we’re in the clear.”
Sometimes, protecting her also meant protecting her from the truth.
“It’s too soon to feel in the clear. But I don’t feel stuck with you. I’m here because I want to be.”
“Good,” she said, tracing a swirl on my chest. “Getting stuck with you is by far the best part of this shit situation.”
The familiar pang of guilt twisted in my gut. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you wished you’d never met.”
“I wish I’d met you three years ago,” she said, wistful and kind of distant.
“No you don’t.” I chuckled, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Trust me. I’ve matured a lot in three years. Besides, you didn’t even live here then.”
“I might have moved here sooner,” she said, dreamy but with a tinge of sadness, tracing a circle over my chest.
“My mom had this poem in a frame on her nightstand, Desiderata,” I said, voice rough with memory. “I’d climbed into bed with her early in the morning, when Dad was already out fishing, and she’d read it to me. One line I always loved was: The universe is unfolding exactly as it should.”
“That’s beautiful. But…" She raised her head and gave a crooked smile. “You ever think the universe has a deranged sense of humor?”
Like bringing me the woman of my dreams wrapped up in my biggest nightmare ever? “Definitely.”