Page 3

brIDGET

W e pulled into a boat marina I'd never seen before. We'd given Alex the slip, but I was sure he wasn't far behind. Jaxon must have sensed it, too. He hurriedly moored the WaveRunner next to his sister's. We got off and he grabbed my hand and led me along the wobbly, splintery planks of the dock.

"Jax, where are you off to in such a hurry?" Someone yelled from one of the boats. Jaxon waved but kept going, his head down in determination and his grip tight around my hand.

His stride was as massive as his build, and I found myself running to keep up with him. I tripped on one of the planks. With amazing reflexes, Jaxon twisted around to catch me before I face-planted.

"Sorry, Gidge, I'm in a hurry to get off this marina."

It was the first time he'd called me by my nickname, and I liked the way it sounded. Only people I truly cared about were allowed to call me Gidge. I'd always been Bridget to Alex, which was the way I wanted it.

I glanced back toward the ocean. The late afternoon sun reflected harshly off the water.

I squinted out toward the harbor entrance and saw Alex's boat just rounding the jetty.

"I see him." I turned forward and hurried my pace again to keep up with Jaxon's big steps.

My bare feet weren't helping matters. I stepped off the weatherworn planks without picking up any splinters but managed to stub my toe on a dent in the cement. I stumbled again. "Ouch, shit, my toe."

Jaxon spun around and held out his arms. "Climb on my back. We can go faster, and you'll still have feet at the end of this."

I laughed as I hopped up onto his broad back. He wrapped his arms around my legs. "Hold tight." He took off at a run.

"You say that a lot, sir, and as I've said before—no problem." I closed my arms around him tighter, and our bodies bounced together as he jogged away from the marina and onto a sidewalk.

"Where are we going, Sir Lancelot?"

He turned his head just slightly. He had an incredible profile, finely chiseled jaw and all. "Sir Lancelot?"

"I used to have a pony. That was his name. He was very bouncy—like you."

"Hmm, haven't ridden often, but I always figured the bounciness was a rider problem—not a horse problem."

I tightened my arms around his neck for a second. "You seem to forget that my limbs are wrapped around your neck. Now, giddy up. Where are we going, by the way?"

"The Shack. It's where I live. We can figure out what we're gonna do once we get there."

"I don't want you to get in trouble for this, Jax.

I should probably …" My words trailed off as we turned the corner onto a small road.

At the end of it, sitting on a hill of patchy grass and weeds, sat a two-story house that looked like something either out of a fairy tale or a ghost story.

Three pointed rooflines shaded the unkempt yard below.

Multipaned windows, some complete with glass and some patched with wood, dotted the front of the house.

Faded wooden shutters flanked the sides of the windows, and a few of those shutters hung tilted as if one good storm could tear them loose.

A front porch was lined with carved wooden balustrades, some missing and some still wearing the remnants of an earthy-green paint.

A colorful array of surfboards leaned against the railing, and bikes and skateboards cluttered the front porch.

A young man, as gorgeous as Jaxon, but with a much slighter physique, was sitting on the bottom step of the porch playing tug-of-war with a brindle-colored dog that looked half shepherd and half pit bull.

The man's wavy dark brown hair was long and wild, and it looked as if he'd just walked out of the surf.

He threw the rope he'd been holding, and the dog took off at full speed, nearly taking Jaxon's legs out from under him. "Shit, Cru, watch where you throw that thing."

Jax had mentioned his brother's name was Crusoe. Now the family resemblance was even more pronounced. Different coloring but the same incredible features. Crusoe leaned his head. "Who you got there?"

I tapped Jaxon's chest. "I think my feet can make it from here. Thanks, Lancelot."

Jaxon stopped and lowered my legs. I stepped out from behind him. Crusoe's smile was as breathtaking as his brother's. "Wow, nice catch, bro."

Jaxon shook his head. "Shut up." Jaxon took hold of my hand.

Alex had taken my hand in a possessive manner many times, but I much preferred the possessiveness coming from Jaxon.

I wondered just how much of my heart I could give to this guy, a complete stranger, before my lovely fantasy day came to an abrupt, cold end.

"I'm Gidge," I told his brother on the way up the steps.

"Crusoe," he said back, "Welcome to the Shack. If I'd known we were having company, I'd have?—"

"Save it, Cru." Jaxon pulled open a squeaky screen door.

Another incredibly hot man came around the corner of the entry.

His hair was long and wild like Crusoe's, but it was dark blond like Jaxon's and, like Jaxon, he had a short dark blond beard and mustache to go with it.

His dark brown eyes twinkled with amusement.

"You are so fucking good at beachcombing, bro." The guy stepped forward and bowed. "Theo Stone, at your service."

"I'm Bridget but since I've received a formal introduction that makes us friends, so you can call me Gidge." I looked at Jax. "Another brother?"

"Oh, hell no," Theo said. "We're cousins."

"Thought you were working with Uncle Colt today," Jaxon said.

"Got off early. Cru and I are going down to the protest at Croft Beach." Theo turned to me. "Some rich asshole thought he could buy our surfing grounds right out from under us, but he's gonna find out that he picked the wrong fucking beach."

"Is there still bread?" Jaxon asked, interrupting his speech.

"Ah, that's why you're so grumpy. This guy is a fucking bear out of hibernation when he's missed lunch," Theo explained.

I wrapped my arm around Jaxon's. "We've had kind of an adventurous afternoon."

"There's half a pizza on the table. LaLa came by and mentioned you might be super hungry once you got back, so we ordered extra."

Jaxon grumbled a "thanks" and led me down a narrow hallway and into a big kitchen. A lopsided pine table sat in the corner with an array of mismatched chairs around it. The pale yellow tile counters were cluttered with dirty dishes and glasses.

"Cola?" Jaxon asked waving his hand at the table and chair.

"Sure." I sat down in a chair, and it wobbled side to side. The cane seat was slightly shredded, which didn't feel great on my near naked ass. "Boy, I'm missing clothes and shoes right now. I guess I didn't plan my escape well."

Jaxon returned with two paper plates and two cans of soda. "Sorry, all the dishes are dirty. It's Griffin's turn to wash dishes, and we're all pretty stubborn about stepping in when it's not our turn."

He picked the biggest chair and dragged it next to mine.

I smiled into my soda can. "Is that the Papa Bear chair?"

A crooked smile turned up the side of his mouth. "Something like that." He dropped a piece of pizza on my plate.

When the smell of oregano hit me, I realized I was very hungry. I picked up the slice. It was still slightly warm. "Who's Griffin?"

"Fin is a cousin. He's the fourth roommate."

Jax downed three slices of pizza in the time it took me to finish mine. "So, you live here with your brother and cousins. Theo mentioned LaLa."

"That's my sister, Stella. We call her LaLa."

"Are there more siblings or cousins?"

"Hmm, let's see. Sometimes it's hard to keep track.

Just kidding. There's Jules, Griffin's sister and Cormac or Mac as we call him is Theo's brother.

Our dads are all brothers, the Stone brothers.

They grew up here. Hunter is my dad. He's the oldest. Uncle Slade is Theo and Mac's dad, and Uncle Colt is Griffin and Jules' dad. "

I sat back, filled with pizza and soda. "That is a big family. Very cool."

"It has its perks and drawbacks. I'm the oldest. By two minutes, LaLa would remind you, but growing up I was sort of expected to keep everyone from getting hurt, but it's like keeping watch over a wild bunch of monkeys.

Lots of trips to the ER, me included. Now that we're all in our twenties the broken bones and stitches have slowed down some. "

I looked at his arm. The blood was no longer flowing, but dried blood filled in some of the skin patches between the tattoo ink.

"Speaking of that—how does the arm feel?

" I winced at the thought of it. "I could have gotten you killed.

I'm sorry. I didn't realize he was pissed enough to pull out his gun. "

"Might have sparked that temper when you dropped his watch into the ocean. Classic move, by the way. I heartily approve."

"He'll kill me for it, of course," I said it airily, only meaning it in the metaphorical sense, but Jaxon sat forward so fast the table shook.

"Gidge—" he started.

I took hold of his hand. It was curled into an angry fist. "Relax, I'm kidding.

He'll be pissed as hell, but that watch was fully insured, I assure you.

Alex has a terrible temper, but so far—" I shook my head.

"Oh wow, do not want to talk about the shitstorm that is my life.

" I took another sip of soda and shivered at the cool air coming through the kitchen window.

"You're cold," Jaxon said. "Shit, I'm a moron. Of course you're cold. Come with me. I can give you a sweatshirt or something." We both stood up, and he gazed hungrily at my bikini-clad body. "I can't believe I'm offering you something to cover up."

"Your secret is safe with me." I followed him up some very creaky stairs. "I'll bet there's no midnight snack sneaking in this house," I quipped.

"We don't let squeaky steps stop us from midnight fridge raids. We're made of tougher stuff than that."