Burn: A South Beach Bodyguards Book (13 page)

“You don’t believe me.”

“No. Not really.”

Isabel sighed. “I want a sandwich.”

“I can get you a sandwich.” Publix was right around the corner from my apartment. “Just relax. I need to call my dad.”

Isabel crossed her arms over her chest while I called Mickey as I was working around the front of my car. I didn’t really want her to hear my conversation.

“Hey,” I said when he answered. “Did you learn anything? I don’t see anything out of place at the house.”

“I can’t find anything. None of my contacts know anything. I have the surveillance cameras going back on the exterior of the house, even though Kim doesn’t want them. But I’m starting to think that Isabel just tripped and fell. She’s not the most graceful kid on the planet.”

“Everyone can trip,” I said, and it sounded defensive. “But did you check up on the guy she went out with a few times?”

“What guy?”

“Some dude named Juan Carlos. I think you should run a background check on him.”

“On a Juan Carlos? Are you kidding me, Ryan? There’s only about ten thousand guys named Juan Carlos in Miami.”

“I’ll give you his phone number. Just to eliminate him. I’m sure he’s just some prick she met online but I want to be sure.”

“Sounds good. I’ll put someone on it after you give me his number.”

If someone just happened to have a conversation with Juan Carlos and told him to stay the fuck away from Isabel, I was okay with that. “Talk to you later. We’re going to stop at your place so Isabel can get her dog.”

“Um, not any time soon, if you catch my drift.”

It took me a second. I stood in front of my car and tried to not be bitter that my father got more action than I did. There was just something really wrong with that. “When would a good time be?”

“I may be busy for the rest of the afternoon.”

Gross.

“I’ll bring the dog to your place later tonight.”

That made me forget about my father’s sex life. “No, Mickey. Seriously, do not bring that dog to my apartment. I’m not prepared for a canine houseguest.”

“It’s not a big deal. I’m not asking you to adopt it. It will probably only be tonight. Tomorrow I think Kim and Isabel can go back to the house.”

I sighed. “Fine. But text me before you come over.”

“Why?” Then my father made rustling noises like he was moving around. “Wait. You can’t touch that kid, Ryan, do you hear me? That is not something Kim would be okay with.”

“Isabel is an adult. She can do whatever she wants. And who said I was going to touch her?” It was none of his damn business. He was the one who had embroiled me in his bullshit mess, but he couldn’t dictate what I did with Isabel.

“There are plenty of other girls you can hook up with. Not her.”

That annoyed me. “Are you lecturing me on morality? Nice try,
Dad
.”

Isabel was watching me through the window and she mouthed, “What are you doing?”

I held my finger up.

“Grow up,” Mickey said. “Keep your dick in your pants.”

“Wow. That’s rich. I’m hanging up on you now.”

“How I raised such a brat is beyond me, honestly.”

“You didn’t. I raised myself.” Annoyed that I’d let him get under my skin, I ended the call without saying goodbye and took a few deep breathes. I opened the door and got into my car. It was stifling hot in there. I should have turned it on and blasted the air conditioning. “I’m sorry. I should have put the a/c on for you.” I immediately did that. Isabel looked pink in the cheeks, her forehead shiny from the heat.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. Just constantly amazed at how narcissistic my father is. He has a gift for always thinking he’s right. It’s amazing.”

“I’m sorry. I could tell you I don’t think he means to be a bully, but I think you know that. Some people are just amazing at assuming everyone else is on the same page as them.”

“That’s very diplomatic of you.”

“It’s true. It means we either have to just accept that’s who they are or spend a ton of energy being frustrated.”

“I guess you’re more evolved than me, because it just pisses me off.” I pulled away and tugged at my T-shirt. I was sweating. “Let’s go get you something to eat, and then fuck it, we’re going to the beach. You need to rest, I need to keep an eye on you, and my dad says he’s ninety-nine percent sure you’re not in danger.” Plus I wanted to see Isabel in a bathing suit.

“I didn’t pack a bathing suit.”

“There are eight hundred tourist shops and a Walgreens. I’ll buy you a bathing suit.”

“Okay.”

I could feel Isabel staring at me, but I didn’t look over at her. I didn’t want to explain my mood, because I didn’t understand it. I just knew that I wanted to go to the beach. I asked her about school and she chatted easily as I drove us back to the Beach. She had a nice voice, Isabel. It was soothing. Seductive. Sweet. She told me about her love of animals and how she was applying to veterinarian school in Atlanta. Listening to her, talking about a normal life, with normal goals, made me extremely happy for her. Restless for myself, sure, but happy for her. That was her future, and she deserved it.

Some day, she’d meet a nice guy who worked at an accounting office, and she would marry him and they’d buy a house in the suburbs of Atlanta, and she would spend her days caring for animals, and her nights caring for him.

And I would be alone. Still in my small apartment. Still angry with Mickey. Still occasionally satisfying my carnal urges with women who wanted nothing more from me than a few hours of fun. That’s the way it was going to be, and that was the way it should be.

It didn’t mean that I couldn’t enjoy her company now. And it didn’t mean that I couldn’t be her first. That ten years from now, when she was in that house, with that nice guy, that she couldn’t look back on the past, and think about me. Remember that I had taken the time with her to make her first sexual experience a positive one. She could say she changed her mind, but I wasn’t having that. I wasn’t going to let her wind up going home with some guy she barely knew after a couple of dates and having him wind up being a selfish lover.

At the drugstore, I bought a disposable cooler, two beach towels, and a bunch of food, drinks, and ice. I suggested a bikini for Isabel. Yellow. It had fringe on the top, and I was having a fringe fantasy.

She made a face. “That’s a little too… flashy. And these mannequins are ridiculous. They have like Double E boobs.”

“I didn’t even notice.” I hadn’t. But now that she mentioned it… “Well, this is Miami Beach. And you are not exactly an A cup, Is.”

“I don’t look like that.”

“What, plastic? No, you don’t.” I gave her a grin. “How about this one?” It was an American flag design. Patriotic. Sexy.

“Ryan, how about you go a bottle of sunscreen and I’ll pick out a bathing suit, okay? I’m pretty sure we’re never going to agree on a style.”

That didn’t make any sense to me. “It’s a bathing suit, not a fashion show.”

“Then why do I need fringe on my ta-tas?” She was giving me a pointed stare.

I could concede that I was caught being a perv. But I wasn’t going to. “So it can double as a cat toy?”

Her jaw dropped. Then she burst out laughing. “Sometimes you surprise me. We don’t have a cat.” She gave me a smile and touched my chest, lightly splaying her fingers across my shirt. “Now go away.”

I would but I bent over and murmured in her ear. “I’ve already seen everything you’ve got, Is. No point in trying to hide it.”

Walking away, I let her chew on that for a minute.

Shivering from his breath tickling my ear, I watched Ryan walk away from me. Damn, he was so hot. Spring Breakers buying potato chips and souvenirs turned en masse to watch him stroll past. The girls were my age, in bikini tops and sarongs, tanned and waxed and polished. He didn’t even glance their way, which gave me more satisfaction than it should. But it was a good thing he didn’t, because I was starving and being hungry did not make me the most rational person on the planet. I tended to waver between wanting to burst into tears and wanting to cuss someone out when I was this many hours out from food.

I felt my hunger in my soul, but even that grumbling distraction didn’t stop me from rejecting the idea of putting on a bikini with an American flag on it. I was not in a Budweiser commercial. Grabbing a basic red bikini I went to find Ryan. He had three different bottles of sunscreen in his hands.

“Are you going for totally skin cancer free forever or for just don’t turn my nose to Rudolph?” he asked.

“Somewhere in the middle. How about SPF 30? I haven’t been out in the sun much recently. Now let’s go before I eat my arm.”

“I can think of better things you can eat.”

I had walked into that one. But I was still flustered by it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.”

Yes. But I was unnerved by Ryan in the role of flirt. I knew he’d seen me naked. He’d told me as much more than once, and I had my weird hazy dream memory of strolling around with no clothes on, but it was still hard to wrap my head around. Then I thought about me. I thought about who I was, and what I wanted. Why I struggled to pull myself out of the shadows. I didn’t think of myself as painfully shy and I wasn’t necessarily quiet around people I knew. I was just observant, studious, always the one with an opinion that was slightly different from the masses. I couldn’t hang out with the girls like the crowd I’d seen ogling Ryan. I couldn’t play those girl games and never had been able to.

My shyness was more the result of me wanting to just say what I was thinking and knowing that the majority of the time that wasn’t socially acceptable. But if I wanted Ryan to know me, the real me, I had to just be me. So I took the sunscreen out of his hand. “You’re right. I’m lying. You mean I should eat you? Is that what you want?”

Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a good place to start.”

“I want my lunch first. Then maybe we can talk about it. I’ll explain my reasoning for changing my mind.” I wanted to be reasonable, not childish. It had been my idea, then my retraction. He should get to hear the why behind it.

“And I’ll explain all the reasons why your reasons don’t matter.”

“We’re going to debate my virginity?”

He frowned. “I didn’t think that was up for debate.”

“That’s not what I meant. I most definitely am. By the Webster definition.”

“You know the Webster definition? Can you tell it to me because I sure in the hell don’t.”

“A person who has never had sexual intercourse.”

Ryan shuffled a little, clearing his throat and crossing his arms over his chest, beach towels still in his hands. “Got it.”

“Are you embarrassed?” I asked, suddenly amused. “I think you’re actually blushing.”

“I’m not blushing. Give me a break.”

He was so blushing. It made me feel on more even footing with him. Seeing a six foot five man packing a gun, with enough muscles to go a round with a UFC fighter, get flustered from discussing virginity, was comforting. Apparently he could discuss sex all day, but lack of sex? That was embarrassing. Whereas I could openly talk about my so-called “v card” status but got squeamish when we got into details. Together we could find some kind of happy medium.

“You’re very cute when you blush,” I said, reaching up, going on tiptoes, to pat his cheek.

Ryan jerked away from my touch. “Stop saying that. I’m not blushing and I’m not cute. I am not a puppy, Is. I’m the opposite of cute. I was beaten with an ugly stick at birth and then made it worse by having my nose broken.” He suddenly looked amused. “I’d say I have a face only a mother could love, but that’s ironic considering mine left.”

That upset me on his behalf. “That’s not funny. Don’t say that. You’re cute to me, and clearly your mother was just a selfish bitch to walk out on you. I hope she’s miserable.”

I wasn’t in the habit of trash talking someone’s mother, but there was something completely lacking in any parent, male or female, who just left their child. It was against nature and Ryan could joke about it all he wanted, I knew it had to bother him.