Up in Flames

Good morning. Want to go for a morning run on the beach? I asked. I knew she loved running on the beach. I figured if I suggested her favorite things, she’d want me around more.

Ten minutes later, she finally responded. Sure. I’ll be ready in fifteen.

Score. Fifteen minutes, and I’d have her all to myself again. I needed a plan. For starters, I needed to ease her into talking about her recent past. Like when she was in Paris last July with a man named Franco Livingston. I doubted she had a clue about the man’s past. If she’d known she was dating a child molester and drug trafficker, she’d have been horrified.

Before I dug that deep, I needed to spend a few days with her, soaking up her time as much as possible. Until we casually moved into the conversation about our past relationships maybe. I could ask Cope how to go about it, but I didn’t want any more of his help. I’d get Nan cleared of any connection to Livingston and then move on.

I had left my temporary home this morning ready to run on the beach. This was my plan before I’d gone to sleep last night. I hadn’t gone looking for a woman after leaving Nan, and a part of me thought I deserved a fucking award for that. I went home alone and made notes on the night, then drank some whiskey before sleeping.

This job was not going to end my career before it even started. Captain had done it for years and had been damn good at it. I was just as badass as he was. I could do this shit. I would do it. I had notes! Lots of fucking notes!

Nan

The dream was haunting me. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t focus on anything Major was saying. I had even checked my panties this morning to see if they were still on. It had felt so real. The disappointment when I’d touched them made my heart sink. Of course, I’d still been in that half-asleep, half-awake phase when the idea of a man I hardly knew coming into my room at night while I slept and giving me the best oral sex I’d ever had sounded like a solid idea. Not scary at all.

Yeah.

It was a fantasy. The kind that messed with your head and your reality, making both suck. Because right now, if Major chatted about one more pointless thing, I was going to toss the chicken salad sandwich I was eating right at him.

I had suggested going to the club for lunch, because I knew three of the waitresses he had fucked here. I requested to be seated in one of their areas just to watch him squirm, to see if he ended up taking an extended “restroom break,” which he was quickly becoming known for all over town.

He wasn’t squirming or making eye contact with our waitress. And she was clearly annoyed. Probably hurt. Well, I didn’t know what to do with that. Because if I hadn’t gone to Vegas and hadn’t experienced Gannon, I’d be smiling smugly at her right now like I had won. But won what? Major? I didn’t want him.

Even with all that sweet stuff he had done, one dream about Gannon, and I remembered what Major was lacking. And that list was seriously long. Maybe the pretty boy was what most girls wanted, but until they had been with a man whose sole goal in life was not to talk about himself, then they didn’t know what they were missing.

Major loved himself. He talked about himself all the time. It drove me nuts. I had never noticed it before. I just smiled and agreed with him. Yes, his hair was getting longer. Yes, he did look good in blue. Yes, his biceps looked bigger. Blah blah blah. Ugh.

“Do you?” he asked, and I looked up at his perfect face and felt not one damn thing.

“Huh?” I asked, not sure what he had been saying. I could see the irritation on his face. Oops.

“Do you want to play a round of tennis after we finish our meal?” His words sounded clipped this time. My obvious lack of interest in the conversation was getting on his nerves.

“Not today. I think I’m going to go visit with my nephew this afternoon.” Which hadn’t originally been my plan, but I wanted to talk to my brother, and some time with Nate would make it better.

Major almost looked relieved. He’d been trying to entertain me and was failing.

I couldn’t focus on him or on life right now. Not with my dream replaying in my head. Was I obsessed with Gannon? Was that it? Had I gotten some strange fascination that was unhealthy?

“Dinner tonight? Maybe order out and watch a movie at your place?”

I wanted to say no again, but I felt guilty after all he’d done to get my attention this week. I might have been a different person, willing to be with him every moment, if that dream hadn’t reminded me why I was over him to begin with.

“Sure. I’ll be home and ready around six. You want me to order the food?” I asked, already knowing the answer. Major liked to be taken care of. He had to be exhausted after a week of catering to me.

“Yeah, great!” He beamed. Typical.

It was a date. Fantastic.

I let Rush know I was headed to his house. When I drove into their long driveway, I could see him standing on the back porch watching for me. I hadn’t called and asked if he was around to talk in a very long time . . . or possibly ever. He probably thought I had a terminal illness or I was pregnant. The concern etched on his face was obvious from one hundred feet away.

I parked and made my way toward him. He took a few steps down and met me halfway.

“What’s wrong?” were the first words out of his mouth.

“I can’t just want to come see my brother and visit with my nephew?” I asked, one eyebrow arched.

“No. I mean, sure, but you don’t ever do that anymore. You pick up Nate for play dates, but you don’t come to see me.”

He was right. I rarely hung around with the family and just visited. Nor did I ask to talk to Rush about anything serious. I updated him on my life via text and let him fill in the blanks. He normally got it right. “Just here to visit,” I assured him. “Nate still napping?”