Summer at the Shore (Seashell Bay Book 2) (9 page)

“Not to get too technical, but they’re actually called Special Operations, not Special Forces—unless you’re referring to what people sometimes call the Green Berets.”

“Okay, professor.”

“Anyway, I trained for Spec Ops after Iraq. And you’re right that some of what we did is classified. But most of our time was spent training and making sure we were ready to go on a moment’s notice.”

She gave him a sheepish grin. “I will admit to spending some time on the Internet researching U.S. Special Forces—I mean Special Operations. I’m thinking you might have been Delta Force since they’re army.” She paused. “That is, if Delta Force even exists. Apparently there’s some doubt about that.”

“Ah, the good old Internet.” As far as Ryan was concerned, the Internet was often a cesspool, especially when it came to things military. He never talked about Delta or what he’d gone through to get chosen for that elite unit, nor
could he ever reveal anything about the counter-terrorism missions he’d been part of in half a dozen countries.

“You’re not going to talk about Delta Force, are you?” Morgan said with a smile. “Mr. Enigma.”

“I can’t talk about any Spec Ops units I might or might not have been in. I
can
tell you I was a sniper in a Ranger regiment for a while.”

Her eyes popped comically wide. “A sniper? Really?”

If that revelation had bowled her over, it would be interesting to see how she reacted to some of his hairier missions.

“What was it like to be a sniper in Iraq? It must have been terrible over there.” She sounded torn between admiration and horror.

“It wasn’t as bad as you might think,” he said, shading the truth. He wouldn’t talk about all the overwatch missions he’d been on, covering army and marine units as they fought to clear out al-Qaeda-infested neighborhoods. “We patrolled at night and slept a lot during the day because it was so damn hot outside. Spent a lot of time playing volleyball and cards and working out.”

Morgan looked uncertain. “But . . . you killed people, right? That was your job as a sniper, wasn’t it?”

“Sure. Terrorists who were killing our soldiers and kidnapping and murdering journalists and any Iraqis or Afghanis that stood up to them. Real sweet dudes who loved to behead people.”

Ryan had no regrets about enlisting after 9/11 and heading to Afghanistan eight months later. Nor had he ever second-guessed his decision to join the Rangers and then Delta. But more than a decade on the front lines had been enough. His units had completed their missions with effectiveness and honor, never leaving a man behind.

She went silent for a few seconds, a common reaction. “I tried to find as much information as I could about Double Shield Corporation too,” she finally admitted.

“You really should think about getting a PI license if you ever get tired of teaching. You’re a regular Philip Marlowe.”

She wagged a finger at him. “Sarcasm is not your forte, Butler, especially dated sarcasm.”

He shrugged.

“From what I read, it sounds like Double Shield’s main business is supplying mercenaries to dictators and big corporations around the world,” she said.

That unexpected shot hit him like a bullet to a ballistic vest. Her tone, while light, held a note of disapproval. He cautioned himself not to overreact. “Some people put that slant on it. Actually, we’re all about keeping people safe in dangerous environments and situations. I’ve helped a lot of good folks who would be in big trouble unless they had us to stand between them and the bastards who want to kidnap or kill them.”

Becoming aware that he’d tensed up and was leaning forward in what Morgan might interpret as an aggressive posture, he took a couple of deep breaths and relaxed back into his chair. But hell, his fun night was starting to go south fast.

She nodded, looking ultraserious. “I totally get that, Ryan, but how long can you keep doing something so dangerous? Don’t you worry that your number will come up sooner or later?”

Jesus, what was he supposed to say to that?

When he didn’t answer, she let out a sad little sigh and toyed with the base of her wineglass. “I was always
worried that something might happen to you in Iraq or Afghanistan. Now it looks like I’m never going to be able to stop worrying about you.”

Ryan froze. His mother had said the same thing in almost exactly the same words. But from Morgan? Unless he was reading her all wrong, the kind of emotion he saw in her sky-blue eyes was a whole lot more than concern for a longtime friend.

And he wasn’t quite sure how that made him feel.

“I’m sorry, Ryan. I made it all about me when it’s about you. Just ignore me.”

He reached across the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Morgan, you don’t need to worry about me. I just do my job, and if I do it right, everybody should end up safe.”

Ryan hoped that would reassure her. In truth though, there was only so much he could control in any given situation. And he wasn’t going to say it to her, but hell yeah, of course he thought about getting his ass shot for the sake of protecting people who could be either very good, or unethical jerkoffs.

“I hope so,” she said softly, clearly not convinced.

He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds as he tried to think of some way to end this conversation without worrying her even more. For some reason, that now seemed very important. When he opened them again, he gazed across the table into a haunted, beautiful gaze that made something tighten up in his chest. “I don’t see doing this job forever, but right now it’s not a bad place to be. I make great money and work with good guys. Besides, there isn’t much else I can do to make a living other than play bodyguard.”

Actually, someday he’d have other options with Double Shield—ones that didn’t involve being on the business end of a gun. Those would take considerable time to pan out though. He didn’t have enough years in yet with the company to earn a transfer to a different role.

Her expression lightened when she scrunched her nose at him. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Ryan. You could do just about anything you set your mind to. Look at how you’re handling the repairs at the B&B.”

Ryan forced a smile. While she was trying to be supportive, Morgan’s comment only brought his situation into sharper focus. He had a high school diploma and no training in anything other than combat and security. His options were limited. Not that money was particularly important, but he could never make the kind of salary that he was earning at Double Shield anywhere else. Not even close.

And especially not in Seashell Bay.

When he didn’t respond, she said, “Do you ever think about putting down roots somewhere, someday?”

“Sure. Somewhere, someday.”

“But not here, I presume.”

“There’s not a lot of call for bodyguards on the island, Morgan. There’s nothing for me in Seashell Bay.”

When she flinched, Ryan mentally cursed. “That didn’t come out right,” he added quickly. “I just meant that there’s no work for me here unless I want to haul lobster traps.”

Her jaw went up in a stubborn tilt. “That’s exactly what Aiden thought until last year. Now he’s coaching college baseball and constructing a fancy ecoresort, not to mention building his father a new house, renovating the old
family Victorian, and—most importantly—getting married to my best friend. If that doesn’t show how a person’s life can turn around on a dime, I don’t know what does.”

Then she blinked, and her expression went flat. Ryan suspected she was thinking about her own life, and how it had so quickly turned for the worse after her father died. He had to switch the conversation to something less intense or the evening would end up a disaster.

He refilled her glass and smiled. “On a lighter note, let’s talk about kayaking for a minute.”

She frowned a bit at the abrupt switch, but then gave him a tentative smile. “Okay.”

“I suggest we start by going out in my dad’s tandem,” he said. “That way I can give you some of the basics before we put you in a single.”

“Sort of like flying with an instructor before you solo?”

“Exactly. And if you feel comfortable after a while and the sea is calm, maybe we could even paddle across to Peaks Island.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Does your kayak have room to carry snacks and beverages? I refuse to go anywhere without snacks. Preferably ones with chocolate.”

He laughed, his spirits lifting with hers. “There’s plenty of space in the hatches. You can take just about anything you like.”

“Awesome. I’m going to kick some kayaking ass.” Morgan reached out to give him a fist bump. “I can’t wait.”

Ryan decided he felt exactly the same way.

M
organ was dumping laundry into the washing machine when she heard a vehicle pull up in the driveway. She quickly got the wash going and hurried back into the kitchen, raising the blinds on the window above the sink. It was Ryan. He’d borrowed her truck to pick up his dad’s sleek, bright yellow kayak.

Ryan had just started to untie the craft when Christian Buckle pelted across the yard to greet him. The ten-year-old had arrived yesterday with his parents, Tim and Kristi, for a short visit with his grandparents. That extended family was among Golden Sunset’s best clients. Chester and Dottie Buckle had five sons and daughters, all with kids, and none of them wanted to stay at their parents’ two-bedroom house near Wreckhouse Point. Christian had glommed on to Ryan almost right away, which Morgan had to admit was pretty cute. The shy boy and the hard-ass warrior made an unlikely combination.

She headed out to the truck.

“Please, Ryan?” Christian said. Rail thin with black glasses, the boy reminded Morgan a little of Harry Potter.

Ryan, unloading the kayak, gave Morgan a comical look that said
help me
.

She bit back a smile. “Please what, Christian?”

“I was asking Ryan if he could take me for a ride in his kayak,” the boy said shyly. “He told me he was going back to his dad’s house to get the two-seater.”

Even though Christian was shy, he was an adventurous kid who loved exploring Seashell Bay. A couple of summers ago, he’d wandered off along the coastline and picked his way down the bluffs through dense underbrush so he could explore the big rocks on the remote beach. When he hadn’t returned after two hours, his parents had frantically mounted a search along with Morgan, Sabrina, and their father. Morgan had found him sitting contentedly atop a tall boulder, contemplating the waves. Since then, his parents had banned Christian from going anywhere near the bluffs.

Considering that island kids had all done that sort of stuff at one point, Morgan thought it was overkill.

“Ryan’s pretty busy, I’m afraid,” she said. Ryan was starting the big roofing job today, and she knew he wanted to get on with it.

“Just a little ride,” Christian said as he turned back to Ryan with pleading eyes behind those big glasses. “Please?”

“Maybe if both the big bad boss here and your mom say it’s all right. What do you think, Morgan?” Ryan gave her an irresistible wink.

She laughed. “Okay, Christian. Go inside and ask your mom.”

“Yes!” Christian pumped his fist and ran around to the front door.

Ryan went back to untying the kayak. “I’m not going to start on the roof until people clear out anyway,” he said over his shoulder as he started to slide the big kayak out of the truck bed. “Or did I screw up and get his mother pissed off at us?”

Morgan scoffed. “Pissed off at me, maybe. Kristi’s never been a big fan of mine, but she had a considerable and very annoying crush on you back in high school.”

“And here I thought you never cared,” Ryan teased.

Morgan wasn’t going to touch that one. “Speaking of going for a ride, when do you plan on giving me my turn? Or do you want to spend the whole day crawling around on my roof?”

He checked his watch. “Late this afternoon? We can bring some dinner along and make an evening of it if you’re up for it. Dusk doesn’t set in until nearly nine o’clock.”

Now that definitely sounded interesting. “Perfect, but we’ll take a trial run to see if I’m comfortable before setting out across Hussey Sound, won’t we?” Morgan didn’t worry too much about the crossing—not with Ryan behind her in the tandem kayak. Making a trip like that in the smaller single would be a different story.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “Absolutely.”

The front door banged open, and Christian ran across the gravel with Kristi trailing behind. “Mom says it’s okay!”

“Yes, it’s fine for you to take him in your kayak.” Kristi slid an arm around her son’s shoulders after she caught up. “It’s so hard to keep Christian occupied on the island, and I totally trust you, Ryan.” A slim, pretty woman with short, blond hair in a pixie cut, she let her gaze drift appreciatively across Ryan’s body.

Yikes
. Morgan wasn’t thrilled that Kristi had been making her interest in Ryan clear since she arrived. Fortunately, her son was too young and too excited about the kayak ride to notice.

Morgan wasn’t quite sure about Kristi’s husband though.

“You have a safety vest that will fit him, I presume,” Kristi added.

Ryan mussed Christian’s lank brown hair. “No problem. We can go now, Christian.”

The boy bounced up and down on his toes. “Yay!”

Still ignoring Morgan, Kristi clamped a hand on Ryan’s forearm, looking like she’d never let go. “You know, I was just thinking that if he likes the ride today, maybe you could give him some lessons? Kayaking might give Christian something healthy to look forward to when we come back every summer. I’d pay you, of course.”

Ryan glanced at Morgan. She thought he was silently asking for her opinion, if not her approval.

She gave a little
whatever
shrug, not wanting to push him one way or the other. But anything that would help keep the Buckle family returning to Golden Sunset was just fine with her, even if Kristi was irritating as hell.

“I guess I can spare a little time to teach Christian some basics. But I won’t take your money, Kristi. Just call it a favor from one islander to another.”

Kristi gave him such a sugar-sweet smile that Morgan’s teeth started to ache.

“I guess we’ll always be islanders, Ryan, even though we’ve both been gone a long time,” she cooed. Then she turned her brilliant smile on Morgan. “You’re
so
lucky to have this guy, Morgan, you sly thing.”

Huh? There was definitely some sexual innuendo in
that comment, which clearly suggested that her luck must involve getting more than handyman work out of Ryan.

Well, Morgan could play catty with the best of them. “Oh, don’t I know it, Kristi,” she cooed back.

Looking vaguely alarmed, Ryan tapped the kid’s shoulder. “Uh, Christian, could you hold up one end of this thing all the way to the beach? Because the sooner we can get the gear down there, the sooner we can get out on the water.”

“I’ll do my best,” Christian said resolutely as he looked at the big tandem.

Ryan could easily hoist the kayak and carry it down himself, but it was sweet how he was trying to include Christian. He showed the boy where to place his hands and then held on to one end of the kayak while Christian lifted the other. “Got it?” he asked.

“Got it,” Christian echoed, lifting his end. He grinned with pride.

Ryan started walking backward with careful steps, keeping close watch on Christian all the way.

Kristi sighed. “I sure wish Tim was as patient with Christian as Ryan is.”

“It’s easy to be patient when you’re not actually the parent,” Morgan said. “I bet Tim is a really good dad.”

Kristi didn’t really appear to be listening, her focus instead fastened on Ryan and her son. “I’ll tell you one thing,” she said. “I bet
that
guy will make a hell of a husband and father if some lucky girl ever manages to get him to the altar.”

Then her gaze flicked back to Morgan. “Not that anyone in Seashell Bay is likely to ever find out. After all, why would a guy like Ryan stick around a place as boring as this?”

Christian sat in front of Ryan in the tandem kayak, gripping his big, black paddle for dear life. As they hugged the shoreline near the southern tip of the island, Ryan had to swallow a chuckle as the boy flailed at the water.

What Christian lacked in technique he more than made up for in enthusiasm. Ryan had suggested he sit back and enjoy the ride instead of paddling his ass off, especially since the adult-sized paddle was too big for him. Not happening. The kid had insisted on doing what he called “his share of the work.” Impressed, Ryan had decided to leave him alone for now instead of hammering away at him about technique. Technique would come later with lessons. Today, he just wanted Christian to have fun. To think of kayaking as something that made him feel good, something he might want to do all his life.

That was how Ryan felt. How could you beat skimming across the water under the open sky, totally in control, going anywhere you wanted at whatever pace you wanted? Ryan had done some of his best thinking in his kayak, while at other times he’d spent hours not thinking at all. He never felt happier or more at peace than when he was out on the water.

Which, he supposed, meant he had at least some part of the island imprinted on his DNA. After all, he had come from a long line of men and women who’d built their lives around the sea.

He steered them through the narrow passage between Seashell Bay and the tiny, treeless chunk of volcanic rock known as Coogan’s Island. “Hey, Christian. Think it’s time to turn around and head back?”

The boy stopped his furious paddling long enough to
look back over his shoulder. “Can we keep going a little bit longer? This is really fun.”

Yeah, but I’m not getting any work done on that roof
.

Ryan was having fun too. It was kind of unexpected because he wasn’t a guy who’d ever spent much time with kids. “Okay, five more minutes and then we have to go back. Your mom might start to worry if we’re gone too long.”

Christian let his paddle dangle over the side for a moment. “She’s always been overprotective. My dad too.”

“Maybe,” Ryan said. “But your mom’s letting you take kayak lessons, isn’t she? Nothing overprotective about that.”

“I guess not.”

He wasn’t sure why he was defending Kristi, except to make Christian feel better. Because the looks she’d given him earlier had struck him as wildly inappropriate, and they clearly hadn’t sat well with Morgan either. Aside from the fact that her kid was standing there, Kristi was a married woman. In Ryan’s world, once you made a serious commitment to someone, you didn’t go around ogling other people who caught your eye.

And you sure as hell didn’t go around sleeping with them either.

Ryan figured he’d better make sure to keep his distance from Kristi, even though it was unlikely she’d really come on to him with her husband and son in the same house. She probably thought it was just harmless flirting, but something that seemed harmless could lead to things that weren’t. Things that left wounds that could take a very long time to heal.

Even now, years after the betrayal that had fucked up his life, Ryan’s wounds could still throb when poked.