Enchant Me by J. Kenner
9
By the time I wake on Sunday, Damien’s side of the bed is already empty. I’m not surprised. Most mornings, the man’s up before dawn, usually to get in a workout before settling in to buy Albania or something.
I roll over, craving the warmth of his sheets, but he’s been up long enough that his side of the bed is cold. I frown and check the clock, only now realizing that it’s almost ten, which means that today is truly a day of miracles, as I don’t think I’ve slept this late since we adopted Lara. How can I with three pint-sized alarm clocks living under the same roof?
I splash some water on my face and brush my teeth, then pull on my favorite two-piece bathing suit. I top it with my ratty University of Texas T-shirt and a pair of terry cloth shorts, then toss some lip balm, sunscreen, and a novel into my tote. I grab a Stark Security ball cap, then head out to take inventory of my family.
I find Damien in the third floor kitchen talking with Ryan and Gregory about plans to increase security around the house and the property in general.
“Jamie’s out by the pool,” Ryan says after I mutter some sort of hello. “She said she’s ready to head down to the beach whenever you and the kids are.”
“And Sylvia’s down in the playroom with the kids,” Damien adds.
“Awesome on both counts,” I say, feeling only a smidgeon of guilt for being the last one up.
“I gave Mrs. Hunter the picnic baskets,” Gregory adds, despite us having repeatedly told him to just call her Jamie.
“You are the best,” I tell him, then drift toward the coffee pot, secure in the knowledge that I don’t have to be part of the conversation I interrupted, because Damien will make sure our metaphorical castle is as impenetrable as the real Buckingham Palace.
I text Jamie that I’m up and will be out soon. She responds that I can take my time, as our patio is only one step down from heaven.
After half a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, I feel alive enough to start the day, and I interrupt the guys just long enough to borrow Damien for a moment.
“You should join us at the beach later,” I tell him after I’ve pulled him out of earshot.
“I need to work on this.”
“Does Ryan know?”
His brow furrows. “Does he know what?”
“That you don’t trust him.”
Frustration flashes in his eyes.
“All I’m saying is that I trust you and you trust Ryan. He’s the best at what he does. Let him do it. You deserve the downtime.”
He sighs, then pulls me close and kisses my forehead, and for a moment, I think I’ve won. “Last night you said you trusted me to keep our family safe.”
“I do. But Ryan —”
“Nikki. Don’t push me. Not on our family’s safety.”
“I don’t like seeing you worried,” I admit, which is true, but not the entire truth. The real truth is that I’m worried, too. But if Damien were to come with us to the beach, I could console myself with the lie that I’m overreacting.
Damien, however, immediately puts that fantasy to rest. “I am worried,” he says. “And you and I both know I have reason to be. I can’t wave a magic wand and make it all better, but I can do this. I can work with Ryan to secure our home so that my wife and our kids and our friends can go enjoy the beach with minimal worry.”
I exhale, defeated. Because he’s right. I can’t just push all of this aside, no matter how much I might like to. No matter how much I know it hurts him to have his past at the epicenter of this new harassment.
“You’re right,” I say, hooking my arms around his waist, then brushing a kiss over his lips. “I’m selfishly wanting to ignore the whole thing. You’re being the strong one and dealing with it, and I love you for it.”
“I love you, too,” he tells me. “Now go have fun. Later tonight you can thank me properly,” he adds, making me laugh even though I’m not at all opposed to that plan.
Moments later, I’m heading to the playroom so I can help Sylvia gather the kids, but she’s already got them suited up and ready. All except for Jeffery.
“He wants to stay here with the guys,” Sylvia tells me.
“Girls have cooties?”
She laughs. “No. He thinks Ryan is cool, and he wants to hang out and help ‘do security.’ His words.”
“Hey,” I say, “under the circumstances, the more help the better.”
We both grin, but there’s an undercurrent of truth there. As much as I wish I could hide behind denial, I want my home secure.
Since the bulk of our beach toys are at the bungalow, we manage to round up the kids and get underway faster than I expected. Ronnie’s our leader and she even takes personal charge of Bradley.
“Gregory packed mimosas, right?” Jamie asks as we follow the kids down the path to the bungalow. “I haven’t poked around in there yet.”
“I’ll fire him if he didn’t,” I say dryly, then add, “He knows you well, James. I have a feeling the baskets are packed with fruity drinks of both the child and adult variety.
“And thank goodness for that,” Sylvia adds. “By the way, Cass texted that she’s running late, but she’ll join us soon.”
“Oh, good,” I say. I met Sylvia’s lifelong BFF years ago, and she fast became one of my favorite people.
“Is Bree coming?” Jamie asks.
“I invited her, but she already had plans.”
“Too bad, but fine. More mimosas for me.”
I laugh, then hurry to catch up with my kids, who have already reached the bungalow and are bouncing on the patio, urging me to hurry up and get the sand toys and other beach paraphernalia.
Soon enough, we’re all equipped, and we follow the stairs that lead from the huge porch to the beach, then start the process of setting up camp. A couple of small beach tents that resemble lean-tos so that the kids don’t roast despite the sunscreen. A huge mat on which to spread our picnic. Four folding chairs for the adults. And a cart with sand-friendly wheels for every beach toy imaginable.
There’s no lifeguard in this area, but none of the kids actually like to swim in the ocean. I wonder if that will change later as they watch the surfers, but for now they are content to make sand castles, look for shells, and splash in the waves, never wandering out past their knees.
“By the way,” Sylvia says to Jamie, once we’re all settled with our mimosas, “I hope Ryan was okay with leaving Jeffery behind. He said it was fine, but maybe he was just being polite.”
Jamie waves the question away. “No worries at all. Ryan loves it. At first, I thought it might only be babies and toddlers, but lately he’s fascinated with kids who are miniature adults, too.” She makes a face and scowls at me and Sylvia in turn. “I want you to know I personally blame you two.”
“Us?” Sylvia asks as Cass appears around the side of the bungalow.
“Breeding,” Jamie says. “You two are these great success stories. I mean, my God, the pressure.”
There’s humor in her voice, but I know her well enough to hear genuine fear underneath.
“Jamie,” I say gently, but she holds up her hands. “Beach day. My uterus is not even open for discussion.”
“That means we have to talk about Cass,” Sylvia says, smiling as the woman in question starts to settle on the blanket. Pink and blue streaks highlight her dark hair, which is pulled up into a messy bun, and the halter she’s wearing shows off the wildly colorful tattoo of an exotic bird that dominates her arm and shoulder.
“Me?” she asks as I pour a mimosa and pass it to her. “Why me?”
“You’re the only one who’s single,” Sylvia says.
“Oh, lucky me.”
Sylvia laughs, then changes the pitch of her voice to say, “Ronnie, sweetie, can you put a little more sunscreen on Bradley’s shoulders?” She grimaces, then turns to me. “Sorry, that’s your job.”
“Hey, I’m fine with community parenting. And preventing sunburn. All good.” I shift my attention back to Cass. “So why are you single? You’re amazing.”
“Right?” Cass says, making us all laugh. “I really am.” She shakes her head, as if shaking off the question. “Seriously, I don’t know. I’ve had a few relationships since Siobhan, but no one I’ve clicked with in the same way. Not even Emma, who was a hell of a lot of fun. I think my superpower is falling for women who end up falling for men.”
“Definitely not a great track record,” Jamie says. “But you’ll find someone.”
“I’ve decided to stop looking,” Cass says. “Although I did bump into Emma at Blacklist last week,” she adds, mentioning a popular Venice Beach bar. “We had a couple of drinks, and it was cool. Straight life agrees with her.”
“Well, Tony does, at any rate,” Sylvia says, referring to Antonio Santos, who, like Emma, is an operative at Stark Security.
“Should I say sorry?” I ask. She does have my sympathy, even though I think Tony and Emma are perfect for each other. Of course, Tony saved me from an attacker in Paris, so I have a bit of a soft spot for him.
“Sorry?” Cass repeats, then shakes her head. “No, no. There was never an HEA vibe with Emma, you know? She was more of the FWB variety.”
I mentally translate that to friends-with-benefits, but not a happily ever after girlfriend.
“But Siobhan?” Jamie asks.
“Wow, you guys really meant it when you said we had to talk about me.”
“It’s a heavy burden,” Jamie said, “but you’ll struggle through.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll consider it therapy. But,” she adds after polishing off the last of her mimosa. “I need a refill.”
“Ask, and ye shall receive.” Jamie tops her off, then does the same for the rest of us.
“Siobhan is … well, hell. She’s the reason I regret sleeping with straight girls who think they’re bi. No, that’s not fair. She really is bi, she just….” She trails off with a shake of her head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s over, and it’s been over for a long time.”
“I really am sorry,” I tell her. I can remember the two of them together and they were a great couple, going so far as to actually get engaged. I can’t even imagine a world where everything I thought I had with Damien just fell apart. It seriously breaks my heart.
“Have you seen her since she moved away?” I ask.
“Once. I saw her. She didn’t see me. And I chickened out.” She shrugged. “Like I said, old news.”
I’m about to offer more sympathy, but Ronnie races up to our blanket, her dark curls bouncing. “Aunt Cassidy,” she says, her voice stern and her hands on her hips. “You promised to hang out with us!”
“And duty calls,” Cass says, rising.
As she goes off to hang with the kids, Jamie catches my eye. “Too bad Cass isn’t bi. We could set her up with Eli Jones,” she says, referring to the movie star who lives next door. Or so I’ve been told. In all this time, I’ve only seen him a dozen or so times, and spoken to him fewer than three. The man is a mystery, but he’s also a great neighbor just by virtue of being so absent.
“If we’re hooking Cass up, it should be with Ollie,” I say.
“Good point,” Jamie concedes. “Besides, from what I hear around town, Eli is doing fine on his own.”
“I can’t believe Ollie’s still single,” Sylvia says.
Jamie and I exchange glances. “We’re beginning to think he will be forever.”
“No one can top Nikki,” Jamie adds.
I roll my eyes as Sylvia adds, “No woman, anyway.”
I frown, looking at her over the top of my sunglasses. “What?”
She shrugs. “Nothing. I just thought Ollie was gay the first time I met him. The picture’s stuck.”
That one knocks me back. I’d never gotten that vibe from Ollie, and I’ve known him almost my entire life.
“Or bi,” Sylvia continues. “I mean, there’s no denying he was gone on you. It irritated the crap out of Damien,” she adds with a small shake of her head.
Sylvia used to work Damien’s desk. Back then she was as discreet as could be, and I never realized just how much she knew from that vantage point. Now I know differently. Which, considering some remarkably delicious moments between Damien and me in his office, would embarrass the shit out of me if we weren’t such good friends.
“Like I said, it’s just a vibe.”
Jamie and I meet each other’s eyes. “It’s an interesting theory,” I admit. “But why wouldn’t he tell us?”
“Just because Syl knows doesn’t mean Ollie does,” Jamie says, and I have to concede the point. “I’m pretty sure his roommate at Quantico was gay,” she adds. “Maybe they had a wild affair.”
“Jamie…”
“Just speculating. I mean, they seemed to get along great.”
“You met him?” I ask.
“Remember? Ryan had lunch with one of his FBI buddies on our last trip to New York. Ollie was in town, too, so he joined us, and the ex-roomie came, too. He works in Jersey and they’re still friends. Damn, I can’t remember his name.”
“Just friends?” Sylvia asks.
“Well, they didn’t go at it on the lunch table if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” I say. “Restaurants frown on that kind of thing. And as much as I want Ollie hooked up and happy, his love life is the last thing I want to talk about on a Sunday at the beach. We can analyze the shit out of him the next time we go out for dinner. Or, better yet, for drinks.”
“Speaking of, are we doing a bachelorette party?” Sylvia asks.
“Hell to the yes!”
“James, I’m already married.”
She shrugs. “So? We go to a strip club, Damien gets all hot and bothered knowing some guy is grinding in your face, and you get fucked like never before that night.”
Because she’s Jamie, I know she’s trying to make me blush, but I just smile sweetly. “Except I can get that without some random guy grinding in my face. Believe me when I say that Damien —”
“Lalalalala.” Sylvia sticks her fingers in her ears. “Hello, people. Brother-in-law and boss. I do not need to hear that.”
“Come on, Syl,” Jamie presses. “You’d be there, too. And I bet Jackson’s just as wild in bed. And I know Ryan is.” She leans back, clearly pleased with herself. “Sounds like a seriously great night all around to me.”
“Does she have an off button?”
I shake my head. “Sadly, I’ve never found one.”
“It’s my quality,” Jamie says.
Sylvia peers at her. “Your what?”
“That je ne sais quoi that makes me so lovable.”
“Being an obnoxious bitch is your quality?”
Jamie glares at me, though she’s obviously holding back a laugh. “Girls! Come bury your mommy in the sand.”
My two and Ronnie squeal, then start heading my way, kicking up sand. I climb to my feet and race the other direction, then get tumbled down by a pack of wild girls, laughing my ass off and thankful that after so many years, I love my friends even more now than I did when we were all single.
