Sweet One by Cristin Harber

Author:Cristin Harber
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Mill Creek Press
Published: 2016-03-27T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lunch had nearly put Nicola into a low-country seafood-and-grits coma, and the walk home seemed much longer than the one into town. Cash had gone from antsy to ecstatic to exhausted, all of which she’d been told to expect as they waded through the stages of traumatic-brain-injury recovery.

Off he went to nap—per her orders, which she blamed on doctor’s orders—and she grabbed a book and went to the deck. The waves rolled on the beach, and the ocean-tinted breeze teased over Nicola, lightly blowing her maxi dress as she draped on the lounge chair. Off and on, she dozed while Cash was inside doing the same thing. But whether it was her stomach’s increasing size or the baby kicking or pressing on her bladder, she couldn’t get to sleep.

She pushed her sunglasses up her nose, knowing that she was lying even to herself. It wasn’t that she couldn’t sleep or get comfortable—both were true, but they were also lies. Something was off, and it wasn’t her body or the baby. Readjusting on the lounge, she didn’t want to be the crazy pregnant lady. But… Nicola scanned the vacant coastline beyond the deck. She didn’t feel alone.

A few months ago, she would’ve grabbed her 9mm, woken her husband, and sought out the reason for her heebie-jeebies. But a baby in her tummy and a man whom she wanted to keep calm changed everything.

“That’s it,” she mumbled, letting the waves wash out her unconvincing lie. “My subconscious is testing me.”

She made another quick scan of the perimeter. She squinted. There’s someone over there. Nic didn’t move or act as though she saw that person, who was probably a tourist out for a long walk along the beach—close to the reeds, standing still.

Nope. Red alarm. Something was wrong. Shit. Okay.

Never one to give up her cover, she stretched, and with faux-carefree laziness, watched another wave, eyeballing the figure in her peripheral vision, before slowly making her way inside.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she moved boots, running from one side of the house to the next. There was nothing like a Jared Westin beach house to keep things armed and dangerous. She hit the master bedroom, slamming to a slowdown, tiptoeing around a sleeping Cash, and grabbed the binoculars.

What else did she need? Hell, right now she was on a fact-finding mission. Back around the bed, and she was—

“Freeze.”

Shit. Nicola turned around to face her very awake- husband. “Yeah?”

“What are you up to?”

“Had to get something.” And in a freakin’ hurry. “Go back to sleep.”

“What?”

“Binoculars.”

“Why?” He hadn’t bothered to open his eyes or move.

“Jeez. Bird watching. Can I go now?”

Cash turned his head and opened his eyes. “Lie to me again, and see what happens.”

Oh boy. “Go back to sleep.”

“You ran through the house like you were up to something.”

“I’ll explain later.” Telling him now would make his head explode, and that’d be bad for recovery and all. “My bird watching is time sensitive. Grill me later. Please?”

His eyes narrowed. “You have the Spidey senses too.

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