A Little Harmless Fantasy(57)

“Well, I’m going to need a shower before I go to the beach,” she said.

Rory pulled out of her, and removed the plug. She was going to jump off the counter, but Zeke stopped her. He picked her up and walked toward the stairs.

“I can walk, ya’ know,” she said amused. Guys didn’t treat her like this. Most guys, actually. Zeke had always been kind of romantic with her.

“I know, but I like carrying you. Plus I need a shower too.”

She looked over his shoulder and saw Rory following them, a small smile curving his lips.

“I say we all need a little shower before heading to the beach,” he said.

And, just like that, everything felt…right. She sighed and set her head on Zeke’s shoulder.

“Sounds like a good idea to me.”

* * * *





Zeke leaned back on his beach seat and watched Rory dive into the surf. He couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped in appreciation for the man.

“He is pretty, I will give you that,” Maura said.

He glanced at her but she was looking out at the ocean also, probably watching Rory too. She had that ridiculous turtle hat on and her sunglasses so he couldn’t discern what she was thinking. She shook her head.

“You don’t have to worry about me being jealous. I think I have proven that the way you two feel about each other is a turn on. I don’t ever want you to hide your feelings.”

He digested that for a moment. “It’s hard to do with you around.”

She looked at him and he wished he could read her better. He still couldn’t read her with that hat and her sunglasses on. Then she looked back out at the water and Rory. He knew she was following him on the boogie board. There weren’t that many people out today and there was a bit of surf.

“I often wondered what it would be like to be with two men.”

She said it pretty loud. Not shouting, but someone could have heard her. He looked around to see if anyone had. She laughed without looking at him.

“Jeez, Zeke, you’re not worried what other people think are you?”

“It’s not that.” Not really.

She settled back on her towel, a small smile on her lips. “Don’t worry about it, Zeke. Fuck everyone if they can’t accept it.”

For a moment he studied her. She was wearing his favorite bathing suit of hers, bright red bikini. She wasn’t overly tan because Maura took her skin too seriously, but there was a nice layer of golden Hawaiian on her flesh now. Damn she looked good.

“Maura,” he said but could not go on. What exactly was he going to say, he didn’t know.

She glanced over at him. “Stop over thinking it.”

He chuckled and leaned back on his beach chair. “You think I worry too much.”

“You do worry too much. About this, about everything. I’m not a little girl. I can handle it.”

“I know. But you’re precious to me, love. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, then she said, “That’s part of life, Zeke. I know you would never intentionally hurt me. You have one of the gentlest souls I know.”

If she knew what he had done when he was younger, she wouldn’t say that. He and Rory had done some nasty things in the name of national security. Zeke knew she didn’t know much about his work—or at least he thought she didn’t know.

“And, while I know you’re apprehensive if I can handle it after...” she said nothing for a few seconds then drew in a deep breath. “I’d rather have the memories than always wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t the nerve to do this.”

Again, she was honest, always. Sometimes painfully so, but he never had to doubt her feelings on a subject. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

“You know I love you, right?”

Her lips curved. “Yeah.”

He looked out and watched Rory again as he rode another wave in on his boogie board.

“How did you two meet?” she asked

He glanced down at her. She had set her hat aside and he knew her eyes were closed.

“Actually, Mum found him. He was trying to steal some food from the grocery my Mum and stepda own. We were both about fifteen at the time. Rory was none too happy with the situation, I will tell you that.”

“What happened to his family?”

He sighed. “His mother…she had what I think was clinical depression. She had mood swings. Rory doesn’t talk about it much, but she took her own life.”

“Oh, that’s horrible. How old was he?”

“I think he was about eight. After that he was left with an alcoholic father.”

She was quiet for a while then she said, “That’s why he doesn’t drink.”