My Killer Vacation — Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Taylor

hold up a handful of sand and let it sift through myI fingers, the little grains carried off on the Sunday morning Massachusetts wind. The cool, misty air is exactly what I need on my skin after waking up from a dream about Myles this morning. If I was a good swimmer like Jude, I would fling myself into the Atlantic in an attempt to finally cool down, but I’m much better off watching my brother take a dip from the shoreline.

Turning on my butt in the sand, I look back at Myles standing at the top of the staircase leading down to the beach. A phone is pressed to his ear and he’s speaking into it with that husky drawl, his eyes covered by Ray-Bans. His dark hair is blowing in the wind. From my vantage point down below on the beach, he’s back to looking like an ancient highland warrior who time traveled and found himself clad in jeans and a hoodie.

When he spies me watching him, he pauses mid- sentence, jaw tightening. But he resumes his pacing conversation a moment later. Letting him see my exaggerated eye roll, I angle myself toward the ocean again in time to find Jude limping—only slightly now—out of the surf, slicking the hair back from his face and grinning. My smile blooms automatically.

“When did he get here?” Jude asks, holding his hand out for a towel.

I toss him the bundle of blue terrycloth embroidered with an anchor. “He’s been here on and off all night. That’s him. On and off. Hot and cold.”

“What happened between you two in the parking lot last night?”

Even in the cool breeze, I’m suddenly swamped in heat, bombarded by images. The moving memories that caused me to toss and turn all night, only to finally fall asleep, wake up and find the sheets sweaty. Myles ripping open the packaging of my Thumper. Spitting on it. How his upper lip curled in a snarl every time he thrust the toy inside of me.

His possessive kisses. The way he moaned whenI peaked.

Am I just supposed to carry on with my normal life after that frenzied public encounter? I don’t see how that’s possible. My clothes feel different, nerve endings on high alert, buzzing all the way to my hair follicles. I’ve been fired into a heightened state of awareness, then dropped from the mountain peak.

“In the parking lot?” It isn’t the first time Jude has asked me. It’s obvious thatsomething happened. I took three wrong turns on the way home. I’ve been responding in one-

word sentences, but now that I’ve processed—mostly—what happened, I need someone to confide in. “First there was some kissing.” No need to go into detail. I’m not even sure I could say what happened without sweating through my yoga pants, anyway. “Then we broke up even though we were never dating in the first place. We’ve been ending our non-existent relationship since we met, actually. It’s kind of our thing.”

“Huh.” Jude turns briefly and gives Myles a wry salute.

“He just doesn’t want to try the long-distance thing, or…”

I snort. “Oh, we are nowhere near dealing with practicalities like driving distance, whether or not our political views align or if he’ll let me put up my Christmas tree in November. He claims I’m a distraction from the case. He…” It feels weird, talking about Myles’s past out loud with someone else, but I remind myself this is Jude.

“Before he turned to a life of nomadic bounty hunting, he sort of mishandled a kidnapping case in Boston. This is the first time he’s investigated a crime since it happened

and…”

“He doesn’t want to mess it up.”

“Yes.” I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my sweatshirt-covered arms around them tightly. “He’s punishing himself. And I have no choice but to let him. It’s not like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend or something. We’ve never even been in the same place at the same time without an argument breaking out.”

“And yet he spent the night camped outside your window. And he’s pacing at the top of the staircase wanting precious Taylor back inside where it’s safe.”

“Yes. Knowing Myles, he probably hasn’t eliminated the ocean as a suspect.”

Jude chuckles. Scoots closer to me in the sand and puts an arm across my shoulders. “Every once in a while, a guy comes along that throws you off balance, but you’ll find

your footing again.”

“Has that happened to you?”

He scoffs, turns his face toward the far end of the beach.

“Nope. I was just generalizing.”

I hum in my throat. “Are you sure about that?” I ask, gently poking him in the ribcage. “I’ve always tried not to interfere in your relationships. I’ve never really had to, because you don’t settle into them long enough to warrant a conversation. But…” His muscles are already tensing. He knows where this is going. “Do you want to talk about Dante?”

“God no.” Water droplets fly in every direction when he shakes his head. “No. I definitely don’t want to talk about Dante.”

“Has he been calling you since we arrived?”

“Before we arrived. During. After. He won’t give up.”

“Give up on what? I thought you two were just friends?”

“We are,” Jude rushes to say, slicing a hand through the wind. “Friends. Nothing more. He’s straight, Taylor.”

“I know…”

When they were younger, that seemed to be a concrete truth.

As they grew up, got further into high school…the fact that Jude’s best friend dated girls exclusively didn’t seem

like such a given. How could Dante date when he was always with Jude?

“Dude plays Goliath in the Phantom Five franchise. Last I heard, he was moving in with Ophelia Tan—his gorgeous co-star. There is no mistaking his preferences and I wouldn’t want to question them anyway. Dante is Dante. I would never want to change him. I just wish he would go live his incredible life and stop trying to…keep this going.”

I can’t hide my confusion. “Keep your friendship going?”

“It’s complicated, T.” He smiles to soften the steel in his tone. “Just trust me when I say it’s complicated.”

“Okay.” I nod, lay my head on his shoulder. “I’ll leave it alone.”

His cheek rests on the top of my head. “Thank you.”

He’s quiet for several moments. “I like uncomplicated a lot better, anyway. You?”

Wiggling my bare toes in the sand, I consider the question. “I don’t know. I’ve been on dates with a lot of uncomplicated guys. They all have their tax portfolios and a best friend named Mark. They golf. They have a favorite dry cleaner. That’s what I wanted.Want. But…”

“The bounty hunter is messing with your head?”

“He’s like eating a spicy breakfast burrito after years of having oatmeal for breakfast.”

He wraps his arm around me tighter. “Dammit, right?”

“Yup. Dammit.”

“The worst part is…I like him. Ilike him. At first I thought he was flat out mean, but now I just find him honest. And when I think back to the dates I’ve been on with potential husband material, none of those

conversations seem remotely authentic. I like being around Myles because I know exactly what I’m getting. He doesn’t lie. Ever. And so when he says something meaningful or kind or complimentary, it’s like…Christmas morning. That

sounds so stupid—”

Someone clears their throat behind us.

My heart flies into my mouth, denial like a red-hot poker between my ribs.

Intuition is already telling me who just made that

chugging sound.

And I’m right. It’s Myles.

The bounty hunter towers behind us, boots sunk partially into the sand. Scowling.

That scowl is all for me, but his eyes? Those are soft.

Surprised. Vulnerable.

“Hey, man,” Jude says, finally breaking the awkward silence. Myles heard me. He obviously heard everything I said. Do I just adopt a new identity and join a commune now or what? How is this kind of thing usually handled?

“Busy morning?”

Myles jerks out of his trance. Sort of. He’s still looking at me. “What?”

“I said…” Jude isn’t even bothering to suppress his smile. “Have you had a busy morning stalking my sister?”

“Protecting,” he bites off.

“Right.” Jude splits a look between the two of us. “Me and Taylor were just about to head up to the house and make some breakfast burritos.”

“Funny,” I mutter, finally gathering the wherewithal to stand up, dusting the sand off my butt. I face Myles

reluctantly and it takes me a few beats to realize what’s different about him. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Usually they are confidently crossed or gesturing or making notes in his phone. But they just seem kind of lost in space right now. My embarrassment over being caught mooning over him—out loud—dissipates slightly. “Do you want to have breakfast burritos with us?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

I blink at his abrupt tone. Nod. Start walking toward the stairwell.

“I have a meeting at the police station later this morning. Ballistics report is finally in,” Myles explains, following me. “I need to get my ducks in a row first.”

“I understand,” I say, passing him a smile.

“I can’t tell if you mean that.”

“Our version of a breakfast burrito is basically everything that was in the taco last night, except the tortilla is soft and we add eggs,” Jude says. “Taylor never lets leftovers go to waste.”

“You can’t tell if I mean what?” I ask Myles, the three of us stopping at the base of the stairs.

The bounty hunter plants both hands on his hips, searches the sand, as if trying to find an explanation. “It seems like you’re not okay with me skipping burritos.”

I’m completely confused. “So what?”

Now he’s getting irritated. “So I just want to commence my day without you mad at me, Taylor. Is that so much to ask?”

“Since when do you care if I’m mad at you?”

“Hell if I know!” he roars.

“Usually we add avocado to the burritos, but we didn’t find a ripe one at the market, so…” Jude scratches his eyebrow. “No avocado today.”

Myles is back to having no idea what to do with his hands. I know what I would like him to do with them, but I’m really beginning to think letting this man touch me was self-destructive from the start because now it’s all I can think about.

“What are you thinking about now?” Myles steps closer, narrowing his eyes and searching my face. “I can tell it’s not good.”

“My thoughts are private, Myles. Go get your ducks in a row.”

“Fine. I’ll come for the fucking burritos.”

I throw up my hands. “Oh myGod.”

“Wetried adding refried beans once, but that’s a lot to handle first thing in the morning,” Jude says, patting his stomach. Several beats pass. “Hey, can you two stop blocking the stairs so I can get the hell out of here?”

I step to the right. “Sorry.”

Jude takes off hobbling as fast as possible on his injured foot.

“What is with you this morning?” I ask Myles.

He rakes a hand down his face, drawing my attention to the dark circles beneath his eyes, the weariness bracketing his mouth. “Everything was fine until I heard what you said about me.”

My cheeks heat. I already strongly suspected he’d overheard my confessions to Jude, but having it confirmed

turns my face into a furnace. “I don’t understand. It was difficult hearing that you have some positive qualities?”

“I don’t know what it was.”

“See? Honest. I like that about you. Sowhat? Take me to court.”

He looks like he’s chewing an invisible stick. “Well I like that you’re stubborn and compassionate. And brave, even though you don’t see it.”

Those words are a warm hug. A tight one that grows more and more snug until I have a hard time breathing.

“Thank you.”

With a succinct nod, he paces away from me to stare out at the ocean. It’s incredible, really, what has been unlocked inside of me since the start of this trip. First, I realized I’m a lot stronger and more resilient than I ever knew. And now? Right this very moment? This blunt, infuriating human is confirming it. What I’ve secretly hoped is true about myself all along—and I’m becoming more determined than ever to embrace those more unshakeable parts of me.

What do I want?

Do I want to give up on this case I’ve become invested in? No.

Do I want to walk away from my acquaintance with this man leaving things undone?

No. If it was up to me, we would go back to his motel room this very second. There is a wealth of physical urges inside of me that I strongly suspect can only be tapped by Myles. Yes, I’m afraid of going home never having experienced them. But at the same time, I don’t want to be a distraction to him. This man houses a lot of pain. He

lashes out to hide it. And maybe I’m too soft in nature, but I can’t stop wanting to help. As much as I want to prove to myself that I’m brave and viable, I also want Myles to realize he had one bad case back in Boston. That doesn’t mean he has to walk away from his whole life. A career that he’s obviously meant for.

Bottom line, he’s holding me at a distance for a reason. I

have to respect that.

But he’s right. I’m stubborn.

I’ve wanted to help solve Oscar Stanley’s murder since the beginning. To solve the puzzle and in the process, prove I’m more than just play it safe Taylor. Now I have the added

wish to be of some assistance to Myles.

Whether he likes it or not.

Whether heknows it or not.

“Are you coming for burritos?”

“Yes,” he growls, turning from the ocean and storming past me.

I smile at his back and follow. “I was thinking…”

“Jesus, here we go.”

“Nothing bad. I just need some new reading material.

And since you’re so determined to babysit me, I was hoping to tag along into town with you this morning?” He stops abruptly when we reach the street, steadying me when I stumble. Eyeing me suspiciously.

I’m the very picture of guileless. Outwardly, at least.

“I just want to browse the library.”

He’s not buying it. “You’re sure that’s all you have planned?”

“I mean…” Needing to distract him, I smooth a palm up the center of his pecs and he gives an audible swallow, watching my hand as it moves upward, then back down in the direction of his belt buckle. “If you want to revisit the parking lot, I won’t object.”

“Taylor,” he rasps, grasping my wrist, holding it away while he gets his breathing back under control. “Don’t do this to me, sweetheart.”

I pull my hand away, pretending his rejection doesn’t make my throat hurt. Not when I grasp his purpose and sympathize with it. “Will you let me tag along or not?”

“Of course I will.”

“Good.” I force a smile onto my face, even as his rebuff continues to sting. It’s rejection my brain understands, but my heart doesn’t want to accept. “Let’s eat.”

He stands still in the middle of the road for another few seconds, a vein ticking in his temple, until he eventually follows.