Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
brADY
The rest of the week, I’d kept my ear close to the news, listening for updates on the storm moving in.
I’d figured it was going to fizzle out to nothing before it reached us, but it’d only gotten worse.
As the week had worn on, the storm watches had escalated to warnings, and the ocean was an angry, writhing mess, crashing against the shore with a vengeance.
The possibility of this storm being a high risk for casualties and steep damages was slim to none. A nuisance, yes. Probable lost power? Also yes. But life-or-death it was not. So then, why the hell was my chest so tight?
That morning, we’d switched to our alpha/bravo shifts in deference to the storm warnings, and Deputy Traeger was already at the station, having relieved me from my day shift.
Harper had made it to the resort a few hours ago and was settled in her cottage, ready to move to the inn if need be.
All but a few businesses in town had decided to close a couple hours early so they could ride out the storm at their homes.
I’d checked on the elderly residents who lived on their own, making sure they had everything they needed, as well as verifying a couple of the churches in town were set up as shelters, just in case.
And I’d made a pass through the preserve that morning to warn any campers of the impending storm, and what few were there had cleared out.
All except Luna.
She hadn’t been there when I’d shown up, and a quick peek through the windows showed she’d left her van unlocked in her absence.
I’d opened it to find nothing left of her but a faint hint of lavender and jasmine in the air and promptly slammed the door shut—as well as any reaction my body had to her mouthwatering scent.
I should’ve left a note inside or taken one of the two dozen colored rocks she’d had lining her dashboard just to prove a point that she was leaving herself wide open to who knew what when she did shit like that.
Honestly, did this woman have a daily quota of how much she needed to frustrate me?
Regardless of how irritating she was, it was my duty as the county sheriff to make sure she was safe.
I’d do the same for any other Starlight Cove resident or visitor.
Which meant I certainly couldn’t leave her out there in her sardine can of a “home” to ride out this storm, obstinate, infuriating woman or not.
I sat in my patrol car parked on the dirt road that led to the preserve, protected from the rain battering the windshield.
Along the bluff at the far edge of the area, waves crashed so hard, spray still arced over the fifteen feet of rock jutting up from the shore.
And somewhere in there, too damn close to the unpredictability of the ocean, was Luna.
Clenching my jaw, I pulled out my phone and pressed Addison’s name, reassuring myself that I’d do this for anyone, not just the newcomer who had a knack for getting under my skin.
“Hey, everything okay?” Addison asked.
“Fine.” I cleared my throat. “Luna needs a cottage.”
“She…what?”
“Needs a cottage.”
“Well,” she said, drawing out the word, “we’re not really in the market for giving away free cottages.”
“What, it’s a prerequisite they’re a lost soul from Mississippi before you’ll consider it?” I asked, referring to the visitor we’d had recently who’d wasted my time with a bullshit grand theft situation.
Addison sniffed. “That was different. Her car was stolen—”
“Borrowed.”
“And she didn’t have a purse, let alone any money. What was I supposed to do?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
She sighed heavily. “I’m just not so sure it’s a great idea. She’ll already be here around Harper during working hours, and that’s enough to worry about. Remember what I said about her downtime and surprises?”
I ground my teeth together, the undeniability of Addison’s words battling with this newly present and completely unwanted urge to make sure Luna was safe. “She’s in a fucking van during a Nor’easter, Addison, and she’s parked twenty yards from the ocean.”
Addison breathed out a heavy sigh. “Look, I get where you’re coming from, I do. But do you really think having Luna here…at the resort…around a journalist we’re trying to win over…is the best course of action, considering everything we’re trying to accomplish?”
Dammit, no. It wasn’t. We needed this article—needed it to paint the resort in a complimentary light—and Luna was a wild card. No question about that. And no telling what kind of havoc she’d have swirling around her.
“What the hell do you suggest I do, then? I can’t just leave her out there. It’s not safe.”
“Let her stay at your place if you’re so worried about it,” she said, and I could practically hear her shrug through the phone. “You know you’re just going straight back to the station to make sure everything’s done properly anyway, even if you’re supposed to be off duty.”
I kept my mouth shut, because, yeah, that had been my plan.
“For what it’s worth, though,” she continued, “I think this is totally unnecessary. You know the storm’s not going to get that bad. Plus, she’s an adult and can take care of herself.”
Of that, I wasn’t so sure. Who knew how often she left her doors unlocked?
Not to mention, her tires were constantly low, and there was no doubt she drove around on a sixteenth of a tank of gas, just for the hell of it.
God knew what I’d find if I checked her oil.
She had no sense of self-preservation—hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was outside right now, exposed to all the elements, just so she could become one with the rain or whatever the fuck.
My chest grew tighter at the thought, recalling the tourist who’d drowned a few years ago just half a mile from where Luna was parked.
She and a group of friends had been standing on some rocks overlooking the ocean, watching the angry swell of the waves as a storm had rolled in.
But they’d been too close to the edge. She’d been caught off guard by a huge wave that’d come out of nowhere and swept her straight into the ocean.
That was it. No warning. No mercy. Just gone forever. And no one could do a damn thing about it.
No matter how good of a swimmer you were, no matter if you were a world-class sailor or if you’d lived your entire life steps from the ocean, you weren’t immune to its unpredictability or its ruthlessness.
“Plus,” Addison said, “taking her farther from the resort can only be a good thing while we’re trying to secure this, right?”
Fuck. I rubbed at the pressure in my chest, hating that she was right.
Which left me with one option. The rest of my family, save for Levi, lived on the resort, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to send Luna to his apartment.
The last thing any of us needed was those two troublemakers concocting a plan together. God help us all if that ever happened.
I’d swing by her van, let her know the situation, and take her to my place. She could stay there—alone—until the storm passed, while I hunkered down at the station. And then, when it was clear, she could return to her hippie van and continue ruining my life from afar.
After verifying Addison was in for the night and ending the call, I put the car into drive and headed down the path, wipers on full speed to keep up with the downpour.
The wind had already ravaged parts of the preserve, and branches were down all over the place, my headlights skating over several littering the road.
Christ, she was far in here—far enough that no one would even know it if they hadn’t been looking specifically for her. That was trouble all around.
I was about fifty yards from her van when a downed tree blocked my path.
It was massive—big enough that it’d take several people several hours and a chainsaw to clear it.
And considering this was the only road in and out of the preserve and she’d parked at the very end of the dead-end path, that meant she was trapped.
My ire kicked up when I thought about what she’d have done if I hadn’t come out here and she’d had an emergency, or if the storm had picked up more power, increasing the likelihood of damage.
She’d have been stuck with no way out. And the thought only pissed me off more.
Was she just oblivious, or did she truly lack even an ounce of self-preservation?
It probably wasn’t a good idea to go in guns blazing and barking orders, but she had me so worked up by her total disregard for her safety, it took effort to unclench my jaw as I climbed out of the car.
The rain soaked me in seconds as I strode toward her pale-blue van, my headlights illuminating the way.
I didn’t realize how much I’d been hoping she was inside seeking the minuscule protection the vehicle offered until my shoulders went stiff when I found her.
Outside, just as I’d thought. She stood under the poor excuse for cover the trees provided, just staring out at the raging sea, a small smile tipping her lips as the wind whipped her hair into a tornado around her.
I stalked up to her, running my gaze over every inch and checking for any injuries. She stood in bare feet—bare fucking feet—her long skirt whipping in the wind, and wore a cardigan over a too-thin shirt, the rain making it stick to her curves in ways that should have been illegal.
Snapping my eyes away from her body, I met her curious gaze. “Let’s go,” I said, loud enough to be heard over the storm and the sound of the angry ocean.
She regarded me with upturned lips so plush they were distracting, droplets of rain cascading over them and making my fingers itch to reach out and wipe them away. “Hello to you, too, grump.”
I made a gruff sound in my throat, clenching my fists to keep myself from reaching for her and throwing her over my shoulder to get the hell out of here. “We don’t have time for niceties.”