* * * *
Noah strolled up the dock, listening to the sound of the boards creaking beneath sandaled feet and the activity of other crews tying their boats off for the evening. More on edge than normal, he felt as if he were being watched. Studied. Followed. He stared around him at the scene. All appeared as normal. He looked over his shoulder to where he’d parked his car. No one suspicious.
Of course there was no one suspicious. He lived in an island paradise. An expensive, somewhat exclusive Nirvana of sun, sand, and sea.
Larry folded his cell phone closed and waved down to him. The beads in his hair smacked against his neck when he jumped to the dock. “I didn’t think you were going to show up,” he said.
“You piss me off every day, what’s so different about this afternoon?” He ran his fingers along the railing of his boat. The Angelfish was a fully equipped charter boat designed for weeklong dives in the open ocean.
Larry dropped his cell phone into a knapsack before looking at him. “Where’s your equipment?”
“Erin’s going on the dive. I’m headed home.”
“Home? You never turn down a dive, especially a night dive.” Larry shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head and squinted at him. “What’s going on? You’ve been off your game for a few weeks now.”
“I know I’m off. I don’t want to talk about it.” Again he looked around the marina for a sign of anything out of the ordinary. The only questionable person in sight was his old pal Larry.
“Are you sick or something? You look all stressed out.”
“Stressed out? Impossible.”
“Why impossible?” Larry asked.
“I live on Grand Cayman, write screenplays, own a dive boat…what is it you’re always telling me? How lucky I am, right? Wouldn’t want to be called a martyr or something, would I?” With each word, his pulse intensified. “I count my blessings every goddamn day.”
Larry pursed his lips, eyes narrowing into slits. “Did you meet the infamous Lauren Biltmore?”
“Don’t call her infamous.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler on the dock.
“And?” Larry grabbed the cooler and moved it to the deck of the boat. “What’s she like?”
He tossed the bottle’s lid into the air, catching it with the same hand. “She’s like Austin, only more feminine.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“Exactly.”
Larry faced him, hands on hips, beads stirring with the breeze. “I think you need to dive tonight. You’re off, man, way, way, way off.”
He looked anywhere but at his friend, noted the crew of a catamaran hosing down their deck and made eye contact with a seagull perched on the post opposite him. Even though all looked ordinary, he knew something was wrong. He could feel doom like fog moving inland from the ocean.
“Well, Mr. Lucky, I don’t know what your problem is, but I know the solution.” Larry slammed a dive tank against his chest. “Get your ass on the boat.”
Tank in his arms, he walked to the stern of his boat. “Not happening, Lar.”
“You need something to take the edge off you, man. Either dive or get laid.” Larry laughed at his own joke.
He scrubbed the back of his hand over his forehead. Admitting Larry was right was not an option, so he said nothing.
“Tell me more about Austin’s sister.” Larry propped himself against the railing.
“Nothing to tell.”
“Did you tell her that she’s your inspiration for your latest masterpiece, that her story will be gracing the big screen? Is she ready to go Hollywood?”
“I need to go.” He screwed the lid onto the half-empty bottle of water.
“She’s pretty messed up, huh? Skittish?” Larry smirked. “I was right, wasn’t I? Do we all need to treat her like glass? Geez, I hope she’s not going to be at the Turtle every night. That’s our—”
“You’re truly one selfish son of a bitch.” Shaking his head, he stared at his friend. “You’re lucky I don’t beat the hell out of you.”
Larry laughed, beads flapping against his shoulder. “Like I said, man, you either need to dive or get laid. You’re way too uptight.”
“I am, I know. I’m not arguing.” He leaned his hip against the railing and looked at his boat. This had been his dream. He was Mr. Lucky, even if he didn’t want to admit it during his current bad mood. “How many dives do you think we’ve done since coming down here? A hundred? Two hundred?”
“Probably more than that.” Larry stroked the railing of the boat. “Do you remember that bar in West Hollywood where we’d sit for hours and dream about owning our own dive operation? How many napkins did we go through writing out our business plan?”
Arms folded across his chest, he chuckled at the memory. “We weren’t exactly the two most organized entrepreneurs, were we? Yet here we are.”
“With a damn fine boat.” Larry crossed his ankles, smile firmly in place. “C’mon, man. Dive tonight. I know you want to. More than that, I know you need to.”
He looked at his feet and chewed the inside of his lip. “My head’s not in the right place for diving, Lar. Not tonight.”
“What’s going on with you? Are you being pressured to go back to LA? What?”
He shrugged, unsure how to answer.
“Is this about Austin’s sister?” Larry sobered with the question. “What she’s gone through after the fact is a lot like what you did after Alicia died—all the talk, the speculation, the headlines. Are you thinking about the scandal—”
“Nope. It’s nothing, Lar. I’m just not myself, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.” He waved at the neighboring crew who called to them from their catamaran. “I need to go.”
“Stay away from her. Do your own thing, avoid The Lazy Turtle for a few weeks. You’re good at dropping out of sight. She’s a bottomless pit of need. Forget you met her.”
“Watch what you say about Lauren.”
“Or…maybe I’m wrong.” Larry’s eyes narrowed at him. “You’re rethinking your hands-off policy, eh?”
“Wrong again.”
“You never used to lie so easily, man.” Larry squinted beyond him toward the parking lot. “Looks like our clients have arrived.”
He looked over his shoulder to where a group of coeds exited a van. For a minute, he questioned his decision to stay off the dive. That unruly group would provide endless distractions for the night, no question about it.
Erin appeared at the end of the dock, dive gear over her shoulder and grin on her face.
“Ah, the lovely Erin.” Larry jumped to the dock. “Last chance to join us.”
The rest of Larry’s words fell against his back. He nodded to Erin who called out his name when he passed her. The note beneath his windshield stopped him in midstride. He glanced around the marina parking lot. A hotel van dropped off his clients, another van picked up someone else’s. Two taxis waited for the Stingray City tour to come in. No one out of the ordinary.
He picked up the note. Same ol’, same ol’. It read simply...You’ll get what you deserve.
He sank into the driver’s seat with a heavy sigh. He glanced toward the dock where Larry and Erin greeted the coeds. His heartbeat thumped through his veins like a death knell. Someone wanted to drive him crazy, disrupt his life. They were succeeding.
He rested the back of his head against the leather seat and watched a cloud drift across the twilight sky. A vision of the hem of Lauren’s dress fluttering against the back of her knees as she had walked away flitted through his mind...her walking away, looking over her shoulder with a jaunty wave…like she knew him.
But she didn’t know him and, more to the point, he had no business knowing her. She’d just survived her own episode with a stalker and didn’t need to be around this...whatever it was...that was going on with him.
He’d spent the past two and a half years of his life keeping all friendships simple, keeping all women at an emotional distance, and keeping his m
ind busy with distractions of any kind. Now here he sat wanting to break his own rules for a woman who had come here for the same reasons he’d once come to Grand Cayman...solitude.
He curled his fingers over the steering wheel. Frustration failed to subside as he turned the ignition and backed the car from the marina’s parking lot.
After his fiancée’s death, he’d also come here seeking anonymity. He understood Lauren’s need more than he could ever admit to her or anyone else on this island.
If he understood her so well, then why couldn’t he stop himself from writing about the man who had almost killed her? He knew he couldn’t stop, realized he would once again fail to live up to some high standard he’d set for himself years ago, understood he was dancing in the gray area of betrayal by not telling her about his screenplay right away, and recognized he risked breaking his own rules.
He smacked his palm against the steering wheel. It would be best for everyone involved if he became the recluse Erin teased him about being. Solitude had served him well for the past years. He had his house, his writing, his dive boat…He had everything he needed. He was the personification of the word lucky.
But he wasn’t lucky, not by his definition anyway. He’d become a prisoner of redundancy in an attempt to shut out the rest of the world. Even the notorious Grand Cayman sunsets failed to stir anything inside of him anymore. He envied the enthusiasm of the tourists. Or at least he had until this afternoon, until he’d met Lauren with her secrets and scars. Now a different energy rippled through the island air and sent restlessness zapping through his veins like a live wire about to ignite a raging fire.
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About the Author
Amber Lea Easton is a multi-published author of romantic suspense, contemporary romance and nonfiction. An avid traveler, she incorporates her real-life adventures into her novels as much as possible (minus any illegal activities, of course.) "Smart is sexy," Easton says, which is why she creates smart heroines who have a lot to lose yet find the courage to face their fears to overcome adversity. She's an avid reader of all genres or "whatever turns her on in the moment".
Easton lives in Colorado, USA, where she gives thanks daily for the view outside her window, her ability to pursue her passion, and for her family. Love is her motivation for all things--whether it be writing, traveling, playing with her dogs or hanging with her two teenagers--if it's not done with love, then what's the point?
To stay up to date with Amber Lea Easton, follow her on
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All Books by Amber Lea Easton
Kiss Me Slowly
Riptide
Reckless Endangerment
Free Fall (memoir)
Anonymity (Wanderlust I)
In Between (DB, Book One)
Dancing Barefoot (DB, Book Two)
White Out
Proximity (Wanderlust II)
Duplicity (Wanderlust III, releasing July 11, 2015)
Http://www.amberleaeaston.com
Amber Lea Easton, Proximity (Wanderlust Series Book 2)
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