Chantal, Jillian - Surfer Bride (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read online

  When she’d swallowed her drink, Quincy added, “And besides, I’m not having thoughts that I’d take that jackass back. If that is even what he wanted. I would like to see him and set him straight on the whole incident two years ago. Like I said, my second thoughts or doubts have zero to with Finn Smith. But he needs to understand what he did with his high-handed behavior. I never got a chance to defend myself against the crap Craig threw out there, and I so want to set Mr. Fennimore Smith straight.”

  “Straight?” Avery giggled. “Good choice of words.”

  Quincy smiled despite herself. Before she could say anything else, the waitress delivered their large meaty pizza. Quincy placed a gooey slice on Avery’s plate, and the cheese oozed over the rim. She grabbed a slice for herself, held her head over her plate, inhaled the scent of the tomato sauce, and sighed in rapture. “God, that is so heavenly. Dig in, Avery.” She looked up and saw Avery had already taken a huge bite of her slice and had sauce all over her chin. They grinned at each other like idiots. They were in their favorite place, eating the best pizza on Earth, and any bad feelings between them were erased.

  After another huge bite of pizza, Avery grabbed the waitress on her next pass by the table. “Please bring me a beer to go with the pizza.”

  Quincy winked at her friend. “To enhance the flavor?”

  “You got it.”

  * * * *

  Fennimore Smith, known as Finn, almost drove past the Tuscany Grill on his way to Quincy Holt’s house on Beach Boulevard in Miami. As he passed the parking lot, he happened to glance over and saw her Willys Jeep in the third space from the door of the restaurant. He slammed on his brakes and skidded into the lot on two wheels. Gravel flew across the side of his vehicle. He found a spot for the Bureau-issued, black Ford Expedition he used while on duty, threw the vehicle into park, and got out. He strode toward the entrance, changed his mind and went back to the car. He opened the door and tossed in his Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearm and Explosives Agency black windbreaker with the large letters ATF on the back. Wouldn’t be good to let her see that. Yet.

  He slammed the car door again and headed back toward the restaurant. As soon as he walked through the door, the memories assaulted him. His stood in the doorway until he had control of his emotions and until eyes adjusted to the gloom. The smells from the oven made his mouth water. God. That tomato sauce smelled like home.

  In the two years since he’d left his job as a Metro-Dade homicide detective, he’d forced himself to forget her and to forget this place where he’d first fallen in love with the tiny, petite professional surfer with a mop of golden curls that hung down her back in a curtain. She also happened to be the daughter of two homicide victims that were killed by an intruder armed with an illegal firearm with the serial number scraped off.

  The smell of the pizzas baking held him in its grip, and the regrets came to the forefront of his mind. He shook himself. Get to the job, Finn. Talk to her, then get out. You can’t get bogged down in the past. This is now. Remember why you’re here. Remember how she hurt you. Get in and get out. In and out. Tell her and leave. Easy.

  He made his way across the room to the booth he knew she would be seated in. Their favorite booth. He was surprised to see a young couple there, side by side and looking very much in love. They glanced up at him for a second and then back at each other.

  Confused, he peered around. I know she’s here. Her Jeep is outside, and nobody but her drives that thing. Her baby. As he took mental note of all the patrons in the place, he noticed Avery seated at a booth at the other end of the restaurant from Quincy’s usual booth but no Quincy.

  He walked toward Avery’s table. Stalked really. He always walked like a lion pursuing its prey. He stood over six feet, three inches, tall and large, but he moved with grace.

  * * * *

  As soon as Avery spied him coming at her, her smile changed to a glare. “What the hell you doing here, Finn?” He still looked very buff and handsome, and she knew Quincy wouldn’t be able to resist his rugged good looks. He had about two days’ growth of dark hair on his face, and Avery knew the scruffy look was one of Quincy’s weaknesses. She felt her stomach drop in fear for her friend. Quincy couldn’t afford to get emotional about her lost love. Avery knew if her friend succumbed to Finn’s charm again, there would be no putting her back together again when he hurt her. Which he would.

  “Told ya. I need to talk to Q.” He placed one hand on the table and leaned forward. He loomed over her.

  “Stop calling her that. And stop trying to intimidate me, mister. Won’t work.”

  “I’m not trying to intimidate you.”

  “Yeah, right. I can see you’re not trying to. Standing over someone with a scowl on your face is your normal way of greeting someone you haven’t seen in two years.”

  “You never change, do you? Always vinegary. And what do you mean, calling her that? Calling her what?”

  “Q.”

  “I always called her ‘Q’. You know that.”

  “Yeah. When you were her lover. The love of her life. You lost that right when you treated her like yesterday’s recycling.” Avery slammed her beer bottle on the table for emphasis.

  “I hope she’s not as bitter and angry as you are.” He shook his head, “What’s it to you, anyway?”

  “You pompous ass. You’ve got no idea what you left here when you pulled your vanishing act.”

  “Look, I know she’s here. She’s here right now. Her Jeep’s outside, and she’s the only one that drives it. I’m not leaving without talking to her. So, tell me. Where’d she go?”

  “Outside, in the back.” Avery nodded across the room to the back door of the restaurant.

  He looked at the door to the patio. “Why? Did she see me come in?”

  “God, you think you’re something, don’t you?” Avery glared at him. “No. She did not see you come in and go hide. She cares zero about you. She wouldn’t need to hide. If you must know, she got a phone call from her fiancé. You know, the man she’s gonna marry.” Avery barely stopped herself from sticking her tongue out.

  “Not if I have anything to say about it. She won’t be marrying that man if I can help it.” He turned to walk away, and Avery grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t you dare try to talk her out of it. You treated her horribly. You need to go away. Stay away. Go back to Metro-Dade and leave her alone. Go do your job and let her do hers and be happy with her new love. Just go away.”

  He frowned and looked down at her hand on his arm. “Avery, take your hand off me. I’m going to talk to Quincy even if you don’t like it.”

  The look on his face was a black scowl and enough to scare a career criminal. Avery let go of his arm. He walked away.

  * * * *

  He strode across the floor and snatched open the back door. As he stepped onto the patio, his former lover, Quincy, stood with her back to him. She had her cell phone to her ear and turned at the sound of the door opening. When she saw Finn there within three feet of her for the first time in two years, a look as dark as thunder on his face, her fingers went numb and she dropped her phone. It shattered into pieces at her feet.

  Chapter Two

  “Jealousy, that dragon which slays love under the pretense of keeping it alive”

  Havelock Ellis (British sexologist and physician 1859-1939)

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Her face stiff, she looked at Fennimore Smith and wanted to cry. What the hell was he doing here, looking so damn handsome? That rock hard chest hadn’t lost any tone, and his biceps still strained to escape his sleeves. He hadn’t changed at all except maybe he was more attractive than the last time she’d seen him. No. That was impossible. Shoot, why’d he have to be so hot with his stupid green eyes that bored into her soul? And why was that scruffy look so good on him? And why was her heart beating out of her rib cage? She grabbed her chest to stop the fluttering.

  “Looking for you.”

  “Why? After two years? What�
��s so important now that you can talk to me? Or should I say, deign to talk to me? Whatever it is, can’t be too urgent, can it? After all, it’s been a long time.” She bent down and pretended to gather parts of her phone to keep from looking at him. She had a hard time picking up the pieces as her fingers wouldn’t cooperate. They felt bloodless and dead. God, I can’t look at that body without remembering him naked. Please don’t let him turn around. That butt of his will send me over the edge.

  As she shoved the pieces of phone around on the ground, her unruly blond hair partially escaped from her pony tail and fluttered in the breeze.

  He bent down to help her. He grabbed a piece of the phone and held it out to her. “Look, can we go inside and sit down and talk?”

  “Funny how you want to talk to me now and wouldn’t let me get in one word two years ago.” She stood, put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

  He held out one hand. “Sorry about all that. Let’s just move on—”

  “Sorry about that? That’s what I get? A casual sorry about that? Let’s move on? How ‘bout no?” She flounced past him and grabbed the handle of the door.

  He snatched her by the upper arm. She turned and looked down at his hand. “Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me. Now.”

  He let go. “I have to talk you out of marrying—”

  She leaned against the glass door and looked him in the eye. “You lost your right to have anything to do with me and who I choose to marry when you shut me out of your life, Officer. There’s no need for you to concern yourself with me and my plans. I’ve picked up the pieces and started my life over, and you need to start yours over, too.”

  “Oh, honey, trust me, I have moved on. I have started over. I’m not here to stop you from marrying because I want you for myself. Not at all.” His voice almost broke on the lie. Almost.

  She gasped, turned away from him, pulled the door open and went inside to the table where Avery sat with their leftover pizza in the box. Quincy’s hands shook. “Let’s go. I gotta get out of here. Now. Before I freak.”

  Avery hopped up, took Quincy by the arm, grabbed the leftovers, and led her to the door. “I guess Finn found you?”

  “Yeah. I broke my phone.”

  “On his head, I hope.”

  Quincy’s giggle was shaky. “C’mon, before he tries to stop us. Hurry.” They hustled out the front door of the restaurant. When they got to the parking lot, Finn stood at the back of her Jeep with his hand on one of the surf boards that stuck out of the open back window. “If you want to hide from ex-boyfriends, you should get a less conspicuous ride.”

  “Is that how you see yourself? An ex-boyfriend?” asked Avery, fierce in her role as Quincy’s protector.

  “What else would I be?” He shrugged.

  “I dunno, an asshole, maybe?”

  “Stop it. Both of you.” Quincy pushed her errant hair off her face and edged toward the driver’s door of the Jeep.

  “Look,” Finn said. “All I want to do is warn you about Hicks. That’s all.”

  “Warn me?” She snorted. “Oh, that’s rich. You don’t even know the man.”

  “Yeah, I do. And—”

  “And what? What does a Metro-Dade homicide cop know about an international antiques dealer?” Quincy’s chin jutted out.

  “You’d be surprised what I know, and I’m not with Dade anymore.”

  “Get fired?” Avery asked. Finn stepped back. As Quincy moved closer to the driver’s side door of the Jeep, Avery started to edge herself toward the passenger side to get ready to make a break for it.

  “No. Oh, never mind, Avery. Shut up.” He turned to Quincy. “Q, I need to talk to you.” He looked back at Avery, who was moving closer to her side of the vehicle. “In private.”

  “Nope. I needed to talk to you in private two years ago, and you cut me dead. So, see how it feels.” Quincy jumped in the driver’s seat as Avery threw herself in the passenger side, and Quincy peeled out of the parking lot.

  As they drove away, Quincy said, through clenched teeth, “I gotta to take you home. I need some time.”

  “I know just where you’re going.” Avery leaned over to Quincy’s side of the Jeep and touched her friend on the arm. “Don’t you think he’ll follow you there? He knows where you go when you’re upset as well as I do. Hell, half of Miami knows where you go when you need to think.”

  “He can’t follow me out there, and I can stay long enough to avoid him if he does. I can stay out there all night if need be. He knows that, too. I’ve gotta think. That means I gotta go.” She pounded her fist on the steering wheel.

  “I know. I know. Dump me off and go do your thing. I’ll save the leftover pizza for you if you want to come back by for it later. If not, call me and I’ll come over tomorrow, and we’ll keep packing.”

  “Thanks for understanding. I hate to run off on you.”

  “You know I understand. I do.”

  Quincy pulled up in front of Avery’s apartment building, and Avery got out.

  After she slammed the door of the Jeep, Avery leaned back in the passenger window. “Be careful out there in the dark. Call me when you get home. I’ll worry till you do.”

  “I’ll call. And I’m safer out there than anywhere I can go. And jackass cops can’t bother me. He might be a good swimmer, but he can’t keep up with me out there.”

  “Really, be sure to call me. I won’t sleep till I hear from you.”

  “I will, promise.” Quincy peeled out and drove away with Avery still standing in the street.

  Quincy knew this reappearance of Finn wasn’t good. He kept her agitated. Always had. Even when they were happy, she had always been keyed up around him. She knew herself well enough to know how she got when she was on edge. She knew the road ahead was going to be rocky, and she knew the only place she could go for peace was where she was headed.

  * * * *

  Finn knew exactly where he could find Quincy. She was so predictable. He wasn’t in any hurry to follow her. No need. He wanted to give her a little time to settle down from the shock of seeing him. Maybe she would adjust to the sight of him coming out of nowhere and be more rational to talk to when he caught up with her later. And catch up with her, he would.

  Finn gave himself a few minutes to eat at the Tuscany Grill just because he was there. He’d purposely stayed away after the breakup to avoid seeing her, but now that he’d been inside, the lure of the pasta sauce was too much to resist. There was nothing like the Tuscan’s secret recipe sauce. It had just the right amount of oregano, and the smell could cause a grown man to cry. He went back inside and ordered lasagna. As he waited for his order, he thought about Quincy and how much he’d loved her. Until she betrayed his trust. He didn’t know if he could stand to be around her. As soon as he saw her on the patio, he was hard and ready for her. Damn body. Betrayed by his own body this time, not by a treacherous woman. That hair of hers falling out of her ponytail around her face and smelling of lemon shampoo almost unhinged him as he’d helped her pick up the shattered phone. Then again in the parking lot, his reaction to her was powerful. I’m like a damned teenage boy in heat around her. Gotta get a grip on myself. She’s not who I need her to be. Gotta get my mind on the job, not the female.

  The waitress brought his pasta and placed it in front of him. “Haven’t seen you in a long time, Fennimore Smith. Where ya been?”

  “Just working, LeeAnn. How ya you doing?” He smiled a thin smile. He remembered this barracuda.

  She pouted. “Better now that you’re here. I can’t say I was upset when you and Quincy broke up, but I was sad when you stopped coming around. Always thought we might make a go of it.”

  “Thought I made that clear back then, LeeAnn. You’re a nice girl, but I’m not on the market.”

  “You mean you have another woman? You never even gave me a chance.” She stuck out her bottom lip, trying to look sexy.

  He gave her the look he always gave to criminals when he was on the verge of getting them to c
onfess. A sneer, with his left eyebrow raised. “Yep. Went from Q’s bed directly to another woman’s without giving you a thought.”

  She glared and slapped her hand on the table. “I’ll get you another waitress, you bastard.” She stalked back to the kitchen.

  Glad she was gone, he muttered, “I think it’s against company policy to call a customer a bastard, but I can deal with that if it means you’ll go away.” He vowed to leave a nice tip for the substitute waitress just because she wouldn’t be LeeAnn. She was a vulture, for sure. He’d never liked the girl. She’d always pretended to be a friend to Quincy, all the while trying to get Finn into bed. He stayed true to his girl. Wish he could’ve said the same for the girl.

  He ate as fast as he could choke it down. It was excellent as always, but he couldn’t enjoy it. He was disappointed that he couldn’t savor the taste, but LeeAnn stood in the doorway of the kitchen. She couldn’t stop staring at him. If her eyes had been knives, he’d be dead from that stare. Determined to eat the savory lasagna, he acted oblivious. When he finished, he wiped his mouth, threw down too much money and left.

  Back in the parking lot, he cranked the Expedition and drove to the secluded beach where Quincy liked to “surf it out,” as she called it. She always solved her problems on the water, on a polyurethane foam board covered in fiberglass. He knew she’d be there. He knew that as well as he knew his own name. He could almost guarantee that the woman would be there.

  He got to the beach and walked out onto the sand. He saw her out on the waves on a short board. She almost glowed in the night air. The full moon shone down on her as she rode her board. The street lights lit up the area. The air, thick and muggy, almost felt like an extra layer of skin. Finn was glad he’d taken off his windbreaker earlier.