Page 2 of Anchor (First to Fight)
“Thanks for a great time,” she says. Her voice is still hoarse from all the screaming she did. The cottage I inherited from my parents after they died is a good mile from any neighbor, which is a good thing. If it were closer, we would have kept them up half the night. I feel bad about turning her away. Almost.
I kiss her, taking care not to be too rough on her swollen lips. Because I enjoy the kiss, I lengthen it until her nails dig into my skin. I’m not an asshole, and I don’t use women, but I make sure they enjoy our time together. My dad taught me that much before I left at eighteen to explore parts unknown and take down bad guys. The women I spend time with know up front our relationships won’t go any deeper than twisting the sheets.
“Same time tomorrow?” she asks as she pulls away, gasping softly to catch her breath. Her chin is tipped up to face me, and she bites her lip as she waits for my response.
“Sorry, can’t. I’ll be busy.” I trail a finger down her arm and enjoy how she shivers against me. “But this was fun.”
“It was.” Her eyes flick down to my lips, and I have to hold back my own smile. “See you later?”
I take a step away as though to help her back up the steps, but really I’m just ready for her to leave. “Maybe.”
I give her a final kiss, and she walks back into the house to get dressed as I walk back to my previous spot by the pool. A little while later, I hear the front door open and close and then a car starts and drives down the gravel driveway.
Rudy paddles up to me, and I throw the ball back to him a couple of times. I check the forecast on my phone for the afternoon and note a squall spinning up west of the island. It shouldn’t take a turn in our direction, but I make a note to keep an eye on it.
Even so, I’ll keep my ringer on and my phone clipped to my belt for the rest of the day.
If I’ve learned anything from my years marching through deserts, hacking through jungles, and weathering waves the size of skyscrapers, it’s luck can change in an instant. In my experience, when everything is going well, things always take a turn for the worse.
Chloe
“It will be fun!” my boss says. Her hands lift in a conciliatory gesture when I blow my bangs out of my face and frown. “Well, okay, maybe not, but there will be beaches and lots of sun. Maybe you’ll even get a tan!”
I throw my head back against my desk chair and stare up at a familiar patch of ceiling. “I don’t need a tan, Sienna. What I need is a vacation.”
“Does it count if the business trip is to a popular vacation spot? Vacation by association?” Her voice tilts up at the end, and I can’t fault her for trying to make the best of a bad situation.
“Why do you have to move again?” I ask, refraining from banging my head on the desk in frustration.
She smiles, but it wobbles around the edges. “You know you’re the best, right Chloe?”
“Sure, I am.” I glance with repressed yearning I hope she can’t see at the calendar on my desk with this weekend circled with hearts. I’d planned to veg out on the couch with a marathon of romantic movies and no phone, laptop or work-related web time, but I’ll just have to suck it up. “You so better love me for this.”
“I do, you know I do.” She rounds my desk and envelopes me in a hug. “You aren’t my best friend for nothing!”
“Just promise you’ll write whenever you get where you’re going. If your plans don’t pan out, you can call me. Whatever you need, I’m there.”
“I would say you should hook up with someone when you get to the island, but we both know it won’t happen.”
“Speaking of,” I say, and she groans. Papers rustle and flutter to the floor as I sort through the organized chaos on my desk. “What will I be doing at,” I squint at the fine print, “Rockaway Island?”
“The usual. It’s a potential investment opportunity for one of our clients. They’re interested in turning it into an upscale bed-and-breakfast. If they book through us, we get a twenty-five percent commission. You’ll need to take a look at the property, get pictures. The usual.”
“You owe me.” I’m the one who owes her. If it weren’t for Sienna, I’d probably be homeless.
When I graduated from college, I expected to move in with my boyfriend. When I moved all the way to Jacksonville, he informed me he’d had a change of heart. He’d realized he couldn’t compromise our friendship by marrying me. Once I got over the betrayal and shock, I realized I needed a place to live and a job to support myself as soon as possible. I couldn’t look at him, let alone stay in the same apartment we’d planned to live in together.
I’d met her through an employment agency and she not only gave me a position as a receptionist at her boutique travel agency, but also let me crash at her place until I could afford to save up for my own.
Whenever she needs a favor, I’m there. No matter what it is.
“Promise,” she says. “Anything you need.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
* * *
Iwas goingto be late.