Chapter Nine
“Isn’t that ‘shortbread girl’ from Ellis Street who set her yard on fire the other day?” Frankie jerked his head in the direction of a redheaded woman sitting on the beach with her arms around her bent-up legs, squinting at what looked like a cell phone.
“It is her,” chuckled Catherine. “I’m sure she’s the only one in Huntington Beach with hair that red and that unruly.”
“I doubt it. I’m sure there are plenty of people with the same hair color as Samantha,” muttered Angel.
She was suddenly out of breath. The jog was at an easy pace, a conversational pace, but for some reason her legs were heavy, and her chest was on fire.
“Now, can we just keep running? We’ve got another three drills left. ”
The redhead looked up.
Angel experienced an unfamiliar sensation like cold water trickling down the back of her spine. Taking a leap forward, hoping to shrug off the sensation, something sharp, like the edge of a broken shell, suddenly cut into her bare foot. She stopped and winced. “Ow.”
Catherine, who was already a few paces ahead, turned back to look over her shoulder. “Angel, where are you? Why’d you stop? What’s wrong?”
“Stepped on a shell. Keep running. I’ll catch up.”
With her eyes on Samantha, Angel watched her stand up clumsily as if her feet were trapped in the sand.
She stumbled forward, arms outstretched.
Her knees took the first punch. Thankfully the soft sand caught her fall.
Still, Angel was already running in her direction.
It was as if a switch had been flicked, spurred by a sudden surge of protectiveness.
Before she could make sense of what she was doing, Angel had closed the distance between her and Samantha.
“Are you alright?” she asked when she reached the redhead. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Samantha was patting herself down, dusting sand off her legs. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine,” Samantha said again, this time a little brusquely, as if she was getting impatient with Angel’s badgering. Although Angel most certainly wasn’t harassing her. “Seriously, I’m fine. I just tripped. It’s nothing. You can go back now to your drills.”
Frowning, Angel asked, “Why do you sound upset? I came over here to help you.” Any other person would’ve ignored the chill in the air and walked away, hands up in surrender, but Angel wasn’t known for her delicacy.
She wasn’t the type to let something go so easily.
“It feels like I’m always running after you, trying to help you. ”
Straightening up, Samantha looked her dead in the eyes. “I saw your face when you saw me. I thought we were fine. I thought we were over the whole ghosting thing.”
“My face?” frowned Angel, she even touched her cheek with her palm, wondering what her face had to do with Samantha’s sudden coldness when she had expected the fire dancer to be nothing but red hot.
“You looked at me like I was a rat coming out of the sewer. I don’t get it.
You’re so fricken confusing, Angel. One minute you’re scolding me for no reason and the next you’re sending me a lovely text or kissing me in the parking lot or saying yes to sex when I expected you to say no.
And now you’re coming to my rescue. You’re hot and cold. I just don’t get it. It’s exhausting—”
“I stepped on a shell,” interrupted Angel and even lifted her leg, angling the sole of her foot in Samantha’s direction.
There was a tiny cut the size of a fingertip, so small that it wasn’t even bleeding.
It was just a little red line where the sharp edge of the shell had dug into the skin.
“I wasn’t looking at you funny, Samantha. I just stepped on a shell.”
“Oh.”
Angel bit down on her lip to keep herself from smiling. “Now would you like to go on and on about how hot and cold I am?”
Samantha shook her head.
“What are you even doing here?” asked Angel. “Is this something you do every morning? Sit on the beach and stare at your phone?”
“I’m watching my friend Matty surf. And reading a book.” She waved her sand-covered phone in the air. “It’s a great book. A mystery. Do you like mysteries? Anyway, I’ll give you the name—”
“ANGEL!” called Catherine. Her shorts were basically hot pants showing off quad muscles that could intimidate any man. “ARE YOU COMING, OR WHAT!”
“I’LL CATCH UP!” yelled Angel and flicked her wrist in their direction.
She turned back to Samantha. For some reason, she had no desire to join her team and finish up the last few drills of the morning.
Angel wanted to stay right here with Samantha.
She wanted to know more about the mystery book she was reading.
She wanted to understand how it was possible that Samantha possessed an intriguing ability to completely clear her mind.
Angel had realized it yesterday when she was driving away from Samantha’s house.
Her mind had been as clear as glass in the redhead’s presence.
The clutter was gone. No thoughts about work.
No thoughts about her parents divorcing at such an old age.
No thoughts about her, the girl with the large green eyes.
Just silence. A delectable, wonderful, welcoming silence.
It was the same now. The only thing on her mind was Samantha.
The way a single curl ran longer than the rest. The freckles running between her collarbones.
The way pink blotches crept along her chest whenever she got flustered.
They both watched as Catherine and Frankie and the rest of them jogged off in the distance. Samantha, who was smiling now that the earlier confusion had been cleared up, turned to her. “What are you doing tonight? I was thinking—”
“I’m working tonight. I’m on call,” interrupted Angel. She knew exactly where this was going. A date. Another date.
“Well, what about tomorrow night? Are you free?”
“Yes,” said Angel reluctantly. First, she wanted to know what Samantha had in mind.
If it was something silly, like a bonfire on the beach, she’d say no.
But if it was a dinner at a restaurant, especially the Italian restaurant in downtown Huntington Beach, which made the most delicious Carbonaro pasta, she would gladly say yes. But asking would be rude, wouldn’t it?
Samantha beamed. “Great. I’ve got the perfect plan.”
“What exactly is your perfect plan?”
“A surprise.” She smiled. “I know you’ll love it. I’ll pick you up at seven pm tomorrow. You can send me your address. Just drop a pin to my phone.”
“Sam,” a man’s voice called from behind Angel, and before she could even turn around, he appeared beside her. A good-looking man with sharp cheekbones, golden skin and wet hair that looked more blonde than brown. He extended his hand. “I’m Matty. You must be Angel.”
Interesting, thought Angel. Samantha must have told him about her. She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or a little worried. But then again, Angel had shared enough information about Samantha with her best friend Catherine to even it out.
“Hi. Nice to meet you.”
He grinned broadly, his teeth white and sparkly. He ran his fingers through his wet hair and flicked his head casually, like in those shampoo commercials. Matty was clearly a ladies’ man.
“How’s the surf?”
“A little mellow this morning but can’t complain. How many laps have you guys done?”
Angel wrinkled her nose and pretended to count the number of laps in her head, although she knew the exact number. “About nine laps from here to the main beach. It’s about a mile.”
Samantha gasped. “That many? What are you training for? A marathon?”
“We have to be fit,” chuckled Angel, who found Samantha’s surprise a little amusing. Not to mention the glisten of admiration in her honey-brown eyes. If it takes so little to impress her, Angel wondered what other feats might earn her a medal in Samantha’s eyes.
Matty took a step forward to stand beside Samantha and pulled her into a wet side hug. She fit in the crook of his arm and looked so much smaller than she was. Or maybe she actually looked her height for the first time. Was it possible that Samantha’s confident persona gave her an extra few inches?
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sam run. Maybe you should take her on a jog around the neighborhood, Angel. Work on her cardiovascular fitness.”
“I’m not a dog, Matty,” scowled Samantha.
He laughed and let her go before he cocked his head toward the parking lot. “I’m heading back to the car to change. Meet me there when you’re done.”
She nodded and rubbed the wet smear of ocean water off her arm.
“It was nice to meet you, Angel. If we see each other again, I hope it’s without the fire truck.” He gave Samantha another glance and jogged off.
“We’re neighbors,” stated Samantha. “In case you didn’t get why he mentioned the fire truck.”
“I got it,” smiled Angel. It was time to go. Her team was probably already waiting for her in the parking lot. Still, her feet remained stuck in the sand. “Your neighbor seems nice.”
“He is nice. A big charmer, though. He still tries to get in my pants every now and then, but he’s harmless.”
Angel raised her brows. She experienced a subtle brush of heat across her shoulders, as though the sun was shining down on them.
But there was currently a cloud covering the sun and so there had to be another reason for the uncomfortable warmth.
Was it jealousy? No, she decided. It couldn’t be.
She barely knew the woman. Jealousy implied one had to care, and so far, she was sure she could say goodbye to Samantha and forget her completely—at least she hoped she could.
Clearly, she was just dehydrated. Her last sip of water was ages ago.
“As long as he isn’t harassing you.”
Samantha chuckled. “Definitely not. He’s a lamb. And don’t worry, I’m completely capable of taking care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
Despite rescuing Samantha from a fire, it had always been clear that Samantha was capable of looking after herself.
It was something about the way she held herself with a certain air of confidence.
That was another thing they had in common.
They could take care of themselves. Angel made a mental note to tell Catherine if it ever came up in conversation, although she was sure it wouldn’t.
“I have to go. Got to get back to work.”
Samantha nodded. “Me too.”
Just as Angel was about to walk away, fingers clasped around her wrist. Soft, warm fingers. “Thank you for coming to help me earlier. I appreciate it. And I’m sorry for keeping you out of your training. I hope you won’t be in any trouble because of me.”
Angel found herself mesmerized by the movement of Samantha’s lips as she spoke, the way the corners quirked up into a bright smile at the ends. The urge to kiss her was practically overwhelming. The only thing that stopped her was common sense.
What was it about Samantha that was like a magnet, drawing Angel to her with a relentless, ceaseless type of power? “No problem. See you tomorrow.”
When Samantha walked away, heading toward the parking lot, Angel waited until she was out of sight before she jogged to the small throng of fellow firefighters.
“What took you so long?” asked Catherine. She was on her back, knees bent, arms stretched out above her head as she breathed in deeply. The team had just finished a round of burpees and since Angel was in charge, she allowed herself to sit out.
“And why do you look like that?” added Catherine with a deep frown etched into her sweaty forehead.
“Like what?”
“Like someone surprised you with birthday cake,” quipped Catherine.
Angel lost the smile she hadn’t even realized was plastered on her face. “Never you mind,” she deflected and turned back to the group. “Okay, everyone. Last set of burpees. Get your asses in gear.”