Summer Shorts

Excerpt

Six months. They met just over six months ago in a packed airport terminal shut down in by a Christmas Eve snowstorm. Their relationship should have been impossible—at the time, he lived in Oklahoma City and she was toiling away in Little Rock, Arkansas of all places. But countless nights spent talking on the phone bridged the distance. Jack’s pure persistence got them over the hurdle of her move to Louisville. Her own tenacity kept them hanging in there while he uprooted his life and replanted himself in Chicago.

Sure, there were still hundreds of miles between them, but somehow those miles seemed more manageable. They’d made it through the moves, the lonely nights, distance and doubts. Their sickeningly phone-dependent relationship even survived the two weeks of near radio-silence brought on by a round of required training he underwent at Quantico.

What did they do there, anyway? Teach forensic accountants how to forcibly subdue unwieldy spreadsheets? A scowl tugged at her mouth. Forcing her lips into a smile, she tossed off her lingering resentment with a brisk shake of her head. Two weeks were a drop in the bucket. Sure, they felt interminable at the time, but that was all behind them. Now Jack was here, in her hometown, settled and seemingly happy.

Coarse sand filtered through her toes when she pulled them free. The tiny grains tickled her skin, like the sweet, soft kisses he showered her with the night before. It had been another endless eight-week stretch since he last visited her in Louisville. The anticipation of their reunion had only been heightened by the construction delay-laden trip from O’Hare to Jack’s West Loop loft apartment. The door barely closed behind them before they were tearing into each other like a South Beach Diet survivor turned loose in a bakery.

Ellie stretched and wriggled a little, trying to carve out a comfy spot on her towel. The scorching sand seared the soles of her feet, but the memory of his hot, hungry kisses made her shiver. A flush burned her cheeks and prickled her chest. Beads of sweat tingled along her hairline.

He turned her into a nympho, a pervert, a freaky-freak. Jack was the one who insisted they get out of bed and do something. She did her best to change his mind. He took full advantage of her suggestion then proceeded to haul her out of bed anyway. After weeks apart, was it wrong to want as much of him as she could get? No. At least, not to her way of thinking. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced he was the freak.

She shot her best death-ray glare in his direction, but it didn’t work. It’s hard to be intimidating when you’re trying not to choke on your own tongue. Jack’s eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even, and long, graceful fingers splayed over his stomach. He lay there flat on his back, stretched long, lean, and lovely, outstripping the length of his beach towel by over a foot. His hair curled above his ears, damp and darkened by sweat. The bastard actually glistened. If any of those sparkly vampires were around, they’d have to shield their eyes from the wonder of Jack.

Disgusted by her own weakness and determined to set aside her lustful thoughts, she swiped her forehead with the back of her hand and turned to watch the volleyball match. Three young men wandered away from the courts, jostling and nudging each other while they tromped across the sun-baked sand. The warm breeze caught bits and pieces of the insults they traded, and Ellie smirked.

As they approached, one of the guys looked up and caught her staring. A smug smile twitched his lips and his steps slowed. His gaze traveled over the bright red bathing suit she’d bought just weeks before and down her legs. His friends slowed too, following his lead until the three stared at her with disconcerting intensity. Ellie quickly averted her gaze, focusing with fierce concentration on the red enameled tips of her toes.

“Tell them I have a gun,” Jack murmured.

Her head whipped in his direction. “What?”