Whisper Privileges by Dianne Venetta

Author:Dianne Venetta
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, womens fiction, contemporary, romantic fiction

Chapter Eighteen

Both hands on the handlebars, Sydney looked back at him, fine strands of hair whipping about her sunglasses. “If you want, sure.”

Clay wished he could see her eyes, gauge her reaction, but he couldn’t. Her shades were as black as they came.

“I do,” he replied, pleased that she had no idea where he was going with this little pit stop. But keeping one step of ahead of her was crucial.

Pulling the motorcycle into the shallow lot, space was sparse. Apparently this was the popular place to be on a Saturday. Sydney sidled up to the end car and made her own spot, silencing the rumble of the motor. Good thing for him they were on a bike. Clay was hit by the breeze blowing in off the bay. Heavy clusters of pine needles swayed above him as he breathed in the familiar scent of saltwater. Instantly he craved for his boat and the wide open water. Surveying the expansive grass area, dark green metal benches and garbage cans, he noted there were exercise stations situated alongside a pathway. Bicyclists and joggers were everywhere, as well as people walking their dogs. He looked to Sydney for confirmation. “Is this some kind of exercise park?”

“I guess you could call it that. It’s the place for locals to get outside and get active.”

“Hm. A workout by the sea. It’s nice.”

Sydney set foot out on the path, her pace slow and controlled.

Clay followed. “Do you ever come here to work out?”

She shook her head. “I get all the workout I need at the beach.”

He smiled. The mention of her beach volleyball conjured up visions of her in the bathing suit-uniform, her knees and elbows covered by sand. “Yes, I remember.”

She nailed him with a look of reproach, but said nothing. He laughed under his breath. Sydney could be a feisty one. One mention of her body and she went on the attack.

They continued to walk toward the water. With each step closer, the breeze grew stronger, tossing hair about his eyes, cloaking him with tropical humidity. The smell of the salt water intensified, to the point he could feel it penetrate his skin. The water came into view, splashing over the rocks and Clay picked up the unmistakable scent of dead fish. But he didn’t mind. It reminded him of the marina, his sailboat. He loved the smell of salt water, decaying fish something you got used to smelling. Where Sydney’s version of freedom included money and travel, his came in the form of the open water, no land in sight.

Sydney stepped off the path and meandered over to water’s edge. “Those are Charlie’s buildings.” She pointed. “Over there.”

Don’t remind me, he thought, glancing at the three buildings with a nod that he’d heard. Across a short bridge, less than three minutes away. He wanted to focus on her, not Charlie. She turned, and a wave of water crashed over the rocks below. Large and porous, they were covered with dark green seaweed slime, mixed with a miscellany of brown branches and ocean debris.

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