Dirty Dealer: A Hero Club Novel by Kacey Shea & Hero Club

Author:Kacey Shea & Hero Club [Shea, Kacey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cocky Hero Club, Inc.
Published: 2020-06-27T23:00:00+00:00

“Sure you aren’t cold?” I ask as a cool breeze lifts from the ocean. Shoes in hand, and Walter off his leash, we walk along the beach as the sun descends over the horizon.

“A little, but I’m fine.” She wiggles her toes in the sand, a relaxed smile on her lips and tendrils of hair dancing around her face. “This is worth it.”

I shrug off my suit jacket. “Here.”

“Oh, you don’t—” She stops when she catches my glare. “Fine.” She draws out the word, pretending to be put off, but as soon as the fabric wraps around her shoulders, she grins. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I loosen my tie and roll up my sleeves. Spotting a discarded plastic water bottle cap a few steps ahead, I scoop it up and drop it into my pocket with the dozen or so others. Chance wasn’t joking. The number of disposable bottles and containers I’ve seen washed up or left behind on the beach in the last week is staggering. I never noticed until I started looking. Maybe the sculpture Chance is creating will help shed light on the issue. Maybe it’ll inspire advocacy or volunteerism in the hotel guests who are moved by it.

“What are you doing?”

“Mmm?” I turn to meet Rachel’s gaze.

“What do you have in your pocket?”

“Oh, right.” I pull a few out to show her. “I collect trash. Stash it. You didn’t peek inside the last bedroom of my condo, did you? Piles and piles of junk.”

“Really?” Her brows shoot up, but she doesn’t appear to be mortified.

“No. I have a friend who’s an artist. Everything he creates is from repurposed materials. Trash, basically. And his current installment needs to be made entirely of disposable drink waste.”

“Now that I believe.”

“What? You don’t see me as a hoarder?”

She scrunches her nose and stares at me a long moment as if considering my question. “Too put together.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Her laugh is light and carefree. I wish I could bottle it up along with the ocean air. “As you should.” She stops walking to pick up a bottle cap half buried in the sand. She crouches down at the next roll of the tide, pulling her skirt up high on her thighs with one hand. With the other, she takes the plastic and swishes it through the water to wash it off. She stands to show off her find. Her ankles are wet, feet sandy, and hair wildly out of place. She’s never looked more gorgeous. “Like this?”

Rachel isn’t afraid to get dirty. Add it to the growing list of reasons I like her more.

“Perfect.” I reach for the piece of plastic, but I’m no longer talking about the trash.

Rachel’s lips part. Time freezes. A building buzz of energy in my chest renders me speechless and pushes me a step forward. Her gaze drops to my mouth. God, I want to kiss her. Touch her. Sweep her off her feet. I swear my hands might physically ache because they aren’t on her body.

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