Whirlpool

Chapter Four

Braden eyed the enormous heap of paperwork on his desk with suspicion. “What the hell is all that?”

Getting into the office early was supposed to be a respite from hanging around Chelsea. He still wasn’t sure what to do about his attraction to her, and after watching her with Jamie for the past week, it had taken all his willpower to not make a move. Allowing someone else to get close to her seemed stupider by the minute.

The other officer on duty tapped the wad of forms under her hand. “Complaints, non-urgent.”

Shit. “No way. I’ve never seen a pile that big around here. Jaffrey’s Cove is a nice quiet place. Have aliens suddenly invaded us?” Braden sat in his chair and rolled closer, dragging a couple of forms over to examine them. “These can’t be serious. Someone wants to report they saw a spaceship landing in Miller’s field?”

“You did mention aliens. UFOs would make sense.”

“Jesus. So I’m going to have to spend the morning reassuring Old Man Cedric it’s safe to walk the shore without zombies attacking?”

Helen laughed at him. “Hey, you’re not the only one dealing with crap. Things are getting downright silly around here. All my callouts this morning ended up being pranks. Deck furniture dumped in a swimming pool, someone tipped over the outhouse at the lighthouse lookout—”

Braden snorted. “Tipped over the outhouse. Isn’t that just a little trite?”

She shrugged. “There’s something up this tourist season, that’s for sure. Here…” She grabbed the papers and started sorting them into two piles. “I’ll deal with the obviously stupid ones today. You can have them tomorrow.”

“You think this insanity is going to keep up for the rest of the summer?” He flipped through a few of the complaint forms.

“I hope not, but—”

“Hell.” Braden stood, paper in hand. It was a message from Jamie. There’d been vandalism out at the condo.

“What, Chief?” Helen leaned over and swore. “Damn, I didn’t hear that one come in. Sorry. You want to take it right now?”

Braden accepted the other papers she held out to him. “Yeah, with a stranger in the place… You okay to hold down the fort for a while?”

Helen nodded. “Of course. If the aliens end up being mind-swapping freaks, remember I don’t like purple. If you see me wearing mauve, you know I’ve been taken over.”

They both chuckled as Braden hurried out the door. His assistant deputy was rock solid, and he could trust her to take care of things in his absence. He drove the short distance back to his condo without turning on the flashing lights.

While he drove, he wracked his brains for a reason for all the chaos. The only major change he knew of was that the previous matriarch had stepped down and Alexia had taken over. But how could that possibly affect the rest of the population? Most of the locals were full human, and ninety-nine percent of them totally unaware of the existence of merfolk. There was the usual huge influx of summer tourists—but the variation in everyone’s behavior made no sense.

Jamie’s car still sat in the parking lot, so Braden knocked on the door of the condo. When there was no answer, he let himself in.

“Jamie? You here?” The last thing he wanted was to freak the man out coming in unannounced.

Braden paced slowly into the living room, noting small signs of his visitor around the place. An open laptop lay on the dining room table, a few of the unending notebooks Chelsea had been writing in stacked neatly to the side.

There was no sign of the vandalism Jamie had reported, although a bucket and washcloth sat next to the sink. Braden stepped to the balcony to examine the windows closer. They sparkled in the morning light, moisture still clinging to the edges. Jamie had cleaned the glass recently.

The sound of running water met his ears and he headed toward the bathroom without thinking. He stopped in the door of the bedroom and cleared his throat. He stuck his head through the door, giving a cautious look around. “Hey, just wanted to let you know I stopped in—”

A pair of wet arms wrapped around his neck and he tucked his chin down to protect his throat. He pivoted on his heels and backed up hard, a grunt of pain rising from the person now pinned between him and the wall.

“Jamie, let go. It’s me.”

The death grip on his neck loosened and Jamie swore. “Stop crushing me then. Damn it, I’m sorry.”

Braden stepped forward, the sticky wetness of his clothing against his back witness to the fact Jamie crawled straight out of the shower to jump him. He must have snuck out the second bathroom door that attached to the main hall. The weight dragging him down lessened as Jamie’s feet hit the ground.

“No worries,” Braden said. “I take it you’ve had an interesting morning.”

“No shit. Let me grab a towel.”

Braden turned to face the other man and found himself staring after Jamie’s retreating ass. Strong butt muscles flexed with every step Jamie took and a thrill of attraction shot through Braden.

Holy fuck, just what he didn’t need right now. Freaking merfolk hormones were going to kill him. Chelsea had him so riled up his cock was on a trigger switch. While there was nothing wrong with finding Jamie attractive, he really didn’t need another complication in his life.

Braden slipped into his bedroom to strip off his wet uniform shirt and pull a spare one from the closet. Jamie opened the bathroom door and glanced around, his gaze hesitating on the bare skin of Braden’s chest. He dragged his eyes away and headed for the dresser, clutching the towel wrapped around his hips. “Sorry again. I guess I’m a little jumpy after discovering I slept through someone covering the sliding French doors in spray paint without waking me.”

“No way. Damn it, I’ve never had anything like that happen before. This really is the strangest season on record.”

Braden was buttoning up his shirt before he realized he still stood in the bedroom, staring unintentionally at Jamie’s naked torso. “Shit, I’ll let you get dressed. Have you had breakfast yet? Can I make some coffee?”

Jamie grinned at him. “Coffee would be awesome.”

Braden rambled around the kitchen for a few minutes waiting for the coffeemaker to finish. He scrubbed his face and took a few long, slow breaths to try to regain control of his body. His cock stood at attention, a situation he hoped would disappear before Jamie noticed.

Enough was enough. This thing between Chelsea and him needed dealing with before his rotten libido got them all in trouble, especially now that she wasn’t going away. His heart ached for her—she’d been so excited about college. He’d thought it was already accomplished and ready to happen.

Adding to her pain was cruel, and he wasn’t waiting any longer. If she really wanted to get involved with him—

“Coffee smells great.” Jamie interrupted his thoughts as he entered the room dressed in a crisp cotton shirt and sharply creased dress pants. He reached for the pot and poured them two cups, adding a shot of cream to one and handing it to Braden.

Braden frowned in confusion. “Thanks, but how did you know how I take my coffee?”

Jamie shrugged. “That’s how you take it at the house. And you had no sugar in the condo. Not big on cooking, are you?”

“Sure I am. Chinese, Italian, Greek…”

Jamie laughed at him. “Takeout doesn’t count. You’ll have to let me cook for you sometime. I’m pretty good, and I’d love to show you how much I appreciate getting to stay in your place. You really have made my job easier.”

Braden sat at the table, stretching out his legs and nodding at the chair opposite him. “First, tell me about the vandals.”

Jamie pushed his laptop to the side to make room for his cup. “Spray paint. I still can’t believe I didn’t hear anything. I’m usually a fairly light sleeper, but the last couple nights…”

He stopped, his face flushed as he took a sip of his coffee. Braden wondered what Jamie wasn’t saying, but he’d already taken more liberties than he should with someone he barely knew. It was downright embarrassing how comfortable he felt around the human.

“Thanks for cleaning it up.”

“No trouble. Easier to do while it’s fresh, something I’ve learned at various digs.”

“Anything broken? Left behind?” Braden watched closely to make sure Jamie wasn’t too spooked by the situation.

“I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. You should check, since you’d spot anything unusual easier than I would.”

They wandered outside and Jamie pointed out the few spots he hadn’t been able to finish cleaning up, but there was nothing broken or otherwise wrong that Braden could see.

“Well, I guess as long as you lock up there’s not much else we can do to prevent it from happening again. Really, Jaffrey’s Cove has never had a run of the crazies like this before.”

Jamie chuckled. “Brought them in just for me. I’m honored.”

“Yeah, well let’s hope they all decide it’s too quiet around here soon and head down the coast to Cynterra Bay. I hear they need a little excitement.” Braden slapped him on the shoulder and ushered him back into the condo. “You planning on heading to the Coltens’ this morning?”

“No reason not to. I’ve barely made inroads to the collection. I have to tell you—Chelsea’s been a godsend.”

Did Jamie say her name with a little extra emphasis? Braden fought down the jealousy that shot through him. “I thought she’d be a help. She’s always been a hard worker, and good company.”

“Then why… Never mind. Not my business.” Jamie walked away and pulled some items from the fridge, putting together a quick breakfast.

“You want to know why I’m not getting involved with her?”

“That’s blunt. But, yeah. I don’t get it. She’s a knockout, but more than that she’s a wonderful girl. Intelligent, quick to learn… I was surprised when she said she’d never been to college.”

“She put off going for a few years for some reason. She was supposed to head out this fall, but she said she didn’t get in. Blew her SATs.”

Jamie snorted his disbelief. “That’s a load of bull if I ever heard it. From what we’ve discussed over the past week, she’s got more knowledge than most people I’ve met. Seems to have read a lot of the classics and researched all kinds of topics.” He froze with his spoon of yogurt halfway to his mouth. “Unless…”

Braden frowned. There was something odd here. “Unless what?”

Jamie pointed the spoon at him then shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I wondered for a second if she was dyslexic, but she’s done just fine taking notes for me. Still, sometimes people freeze up in test situations—you know, can’t get the words down on paper. Because her mind is sharp, I’m telling you that.”

Braden rubbed his forehead. It was possible, and could be why she’d refused all offers of assistance, if she was trying to keep a disability secret. “You know what? You’re right, something is off. I’m going to look into it.”

Jamie’s face brightened as he smiled. “Okay, since it seems you’re a decent guy I’m going to let you in on the plot. Chelsea is nuts about you and doesn’t understand why you’re ignoring her. She’s invited me to watch her dance tomorrow night at the Grotto, but it’s really a setup. She’s got some kind of big plan that involves you. If you’ve got any feelings for the girl, I suggest you get your act together. This might be your last chance.”

Braden shook his head. “Are you trained as a relationship counselor too?”

A sudden burst of laughter escaped Jamie as he cleaned up his bowl and tidied the counter. He spoke over his shoulder. “Years of hanging out at remote digs often means there’s nothing to do in your spare time but psychoanalyze each other. It can be damn entertaining at times.”

Chelsea peeked around the edge of the stage, searching the dimly lit seating area for Jamie. The music pounded through her whole body, the pulsing beat making the need driving her more and more difficult to control. Braden had one last chance, then she was going to forget him. She’d called in every favor possible to arrange the night, and if it didn’t work, she’d just have to accept he really didn’t want her.

The girl dancing on the stage wore a skimpy tasseled cowboy outfit and Chelsea analyzed her dance moves as she waited her turn. Decent routine, maybe a little too much shimmy in the hips, but the catcalls and hollering from the floor demonstrated the guys watching didn’t mind. Jamie’s blond hair finally caught her eye. Perfect. He’d managed to nab one of the tables close enough to the stage she’d be able to pay him a little extra attention.

Chelsea tucked back into the shadows and closed her eyes for a moment, centering herself and slowing the rapid beat of her pulse. In just minutes she’d be the one out there in the spotlight, letting her body tell the story as she performed.

Fine, it wasn’t dancing on Broadway, but it made her happy, brought in a few bucks and the guys loved it.

Ms. Cowboy finished up and gathered her money from the stage. She slipped past Chelsea breathlessly. “Break a leg, girl. They’re hot tonight.”

The tone of the music changed and Chelsea rocked her body in time with the opening beats. She took a deep breath and let the rhythm settle over her. Head lowered she paced slowly out onto the stage and the collective groan from the masculine throats was oh-so-wonderful to hear.

She didn’t do a bump and grind like some of the girls. She could—she knew how to pole dance with the best of them—but she’d choreographed this routine as a tease into the world of the merfolk. The shimmering blue body paint she wore flashed under the special lights, creating the illusion of the same glow she would see while making love. It turned her on, imagining her and Braden, lights flicking around them. She approached the edge of the stage and smiled into the crowd, her gaze fixing on Jamie, and suddenly her smile was real. There was something special about the man, more than the fact they were becoming friends.

His expression right now was priceless. She’d told him she was a dancer, brought him into the club then left him alone while she went to get ready. Surely the previous girls’ performances would have clued him in, but the shock on his face made her want to giggle. The heat that built as he looked her over from head to toe gave a pleasant buzz to her whole body. She waggled her fingers at him suggestively and watched with delight as the men on either side of him elbowed and joshed him for receiving special attention.

The beat picked up in her music and she had to concentrate. Returning to the middle of the stage, she set in motion the sensual routine she hoped would pull them all into a whirlpool of passion with her.

She danced, every part of her body engaged in the storytelling. Bent low to the ground she pretended to swim across the floor, perching up onto a rock and preening her hair back off her shoulder. The long ringlets of her extensions hung to her hips, teasing the bare skin above her buttocks with every swing. Teasing like the brush of a hand, like Jamie’s fingers had stroked her skin the other day, and she unconsciously sought his eyes.

When the dance took her back to the edge of the stage, she slipped down, lowering herself to the floor. The bouncers stiffened, but let her continue as she moved toward Jamie, her hips moving from side to side with an increasing tempo.

His jaw hung open and she slid a hand down his cheek before twirling before him. Her hands landed on his thighs as she leaned over, undulating her torso from side to side. The pull between them made her drop the choreographed plans and dive in over her head. She pressed his legs together and straddled him. He stared at her face, his eyes blazing as she rocked her hips lower, the thin strip of fabric covering her pussy rubbing his dress pants, knocking against the rock-hard erection straining the front of his trousers.

“Chelsea…” He choked out the words. She shimmied again, this time sitting on his thighs and raising a leg in the air. The back of her calf rested on his collarbone, her body heat melding with his, and he swore softly.

The emotion she saw in his eyes hit her hard. The blue paint she wore now hid her own reaction, the real shimmer of arousal rising from her body as she reacted to the need pouring off him. She extracted herself from the tangle she’d pulled them into and grabbed him by the collar.

“Chels, no more,” he whispered.

She hesitated for a second then spun away, leaping onto the stage. Oh God, what had she done? Passion flared hard through her, need making her pulse jump and her core ache for a lover. The remainder of her song went far too quickly, the spotlights in her eyes blinding her to any of the faces in the crowd.

The music faded and she escaped, the whistles and clapping shaking the rafters.

“Aren’t you going around to pick up your money?” one of the other dancers asked.

Chelsea shook her head. “I’ll let Kasey grab it for me this time. I need to head out.”

The girl winked. “I see you’ve got a new boyfriend. He’s cute.”

Shit. Chelsea stripped off her costume as fast as she could. All her plans were royally screwed. She had timed it so she’d have at least thirty minutes before all hell broke loose. Now she wished for longer—time to go find Jamie and apologize. To ask him to understand she hadn’t meant to torment him—hell, torment herself. The incredible reaction between them had come on so hard and strong… She wrapped her arms around herself for a second. She fought the hard ache in her core that made her want to race into the crowd and grab Jamie. A glance in the mirror reminded her the body paint was still there, but she had no time to take it off and still make it home before Braden. She snatched up a wrap and fled out the door, racing across the parking lot and jumping into her car as quickly as she could.

Only then did she breathe out a sigh of relief, relaxing back onto the seat and letting go of the nervous tension that had claimed her. She’d planned the evening as a final-ditch attempt to get Braden’s attention, but she hadn’t expected to experience such a strong response to Jamie.

The door beside her jerked open. Chelsea’s heart leapt into her throat and she swung a fist at the intruder.

Braden caught it with his mitt of a hand. “None of that.”

“Holy shit, what do you think—?”

“Don’t move,” he ordered. He closed her door and came around to the passenger side, yanked the door open and folded himself into the seat. “You’ve got the drive home to figure out how you’re going explain yourself.”

“What are you doing in my car? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

He reached across to turn on the ignition. The motor roared to life and she twisted to examine his face. He shook his head then leaned back in his seat, avoiding her eyes. “Drive. We’ll talk when we get home.”

Bastard. Chelsea jerked the car into gear and burned rubber, peeling out of the parking lot. What the hell was he going to do, slap a fine on her? She glanced at him. He wasn’t wearing his uniform.

Ah, shit…there was part of the problem. He was supposed to be on duty tonight. She’d left word for him to drop in at the Grotto, but figured he’d have gone in uniform. It should have taken until the end of his shift to be able to track her down if he’d been pissed off. Only if he wasn’t on duty…

Hell. None of this was working out. Jamie was probably annoyed beyond belief with her, and Braden was going to reject her again. She slowed and drove more carefully. Not like she needed to get into any more trouble tonight than she already was. She pulled into the driveway of the house and parked, slipping out and heading inside without another word spoken.

Fine. She’d leave as wide a space between her and Braden as possible. They might be stuck housesitting together but this was the last time she was going to try to get him to see her as a woman.

She kicked off her shoes and turned to hide in her room.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Braden locked the door behind them then blocked her path. His expressionless face taunted her more than if he’d been angry or sad. Obviously he didn’t give a damn and it was time to move on.

“I’m taking a shower and going to bed. Good night.”

He grabbed her by the arm and held her in place. “No, you’re not.”

Chelsea froze for a second then simultaneously stomped at his instep and twisted her wrist from his grasp. He simply released her, dodged the kick and grabbed her other elbow as well, effectively pinning her in place before him.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

“We’re going to talk. Don’t run away, don’t start throwing things.”

Chelsea tossed her head back and glared. “I don’t throw things, and I don’t run. You’re the one that runs away.”

He nodded slowly and as his fingers released her she jerked back a step.

“What were you doing tonight, Chelsea?” The dark tone in his voice made a tiny flame of hope start to rise. “You were looking for trouble before, but tonight?”

He stroked a hand down her arm and she found it hard to swallow.

“You know that I dance. I’ve asked you a million times to come and watch, and you never have. So what’s different about tonight? The fact I had someone in the audience who appreciated me?”

“They all appreciate you, baby. Every one of those men there tonight would have loved to be the one going home with you.”

“Except you,” she said softly.

The confusion in his eyes was clear. “Tonight wasn’t the first time I’ve watched you. I’ve wrestled with myself every damn time you dance and I’m usually there in the back, wanting to murder the men admiring you. Wanting to race up on that stage and pull you off and wrap you up so no one can see your beautiful body.”

He’d watched before? “Why have you never said anything?”

He rubbed his hands up the sides of her arms again, smoothing his palms over her shoulders. “I had no right.”

She waited. Hoping he’d say something more. Do something more. He just kept touching her arms, stroking her hair. It was all so surreal and confusing.

“Stop it.” She shrugged away from him, stepping closer to the fireplace and the long French doors to the patio. The lights of the harbor were visible off in the distance where the pier curved away from the land. Faint pinpricks of light that echoed the faint hope glowing in her heart. She turned to face him.

“So you watched. You wanted to cover me up. Fine, thanks for sharing. Does it make any difference at all? Because from what you’ve said to me tonight, I don’t see anything changing, and if that’s the case, then I’m having that shower and hitting the sack. Alone. Again. Like I have for the past year.”

“Chelsea, I’ve wanted to make love with you—”

“Bullshit.” Tears were threatening, and soon there would be no stopping them. She was so bloody frustrated it was a good thing they weren’t in the kitchen or she’d be tempted to throw a knife or two. “Don’t give me any more of your crap.”

She dashed the tears from her eyes, annoyed that she’d let him bring her to this place. She was a strong woman, independent. She didn’t need his approval or his love. She turned her back on him and wrapped her arms around herself to hold in the anger.

“Baby—”

“Go away. I don’t want to discuss this anymore.”

“We’re not done,” he growled out. “You have a crazy way of holding a conversation.”

Arrogant bastard. She spun on her heel to confront him. “This isn’t a conversation. It’s an accusation. You want to bring it back to a discussion? Fine. Tell me what you’re planning on doing about this.”

One move ripped off her jacket. His gaze dropped to her chest, to the bikini cups shaped like giant shells barely covering her breasts. She slipped a hand behind her and pulled the string, ripping the fabric from her body and tossing it at him. One more move stripped away her thong and she stood naked before him.

Braden’s eyes grew dark but his unfathomable expression never changed. “Fuck, Chelsea, what do you want me to do? Turn my back on everything I believe is right and just have sex with you?”

“Who the hell made you my moral adviser? Is it your job to go around seeing that all the merfolk are screwing only approved partners? I’ve heard about every one of your exploits, and you have the balls to say having sex with me would be wrong? Don’t be such a fucking hypocrite. Face it, Braden, either you want me or you don’t.”

She held out her arms and pivoted on the spot, letting her arms rise above her head until she was back facing him, breasts thrust forward, legs parted. He stared at her, still expressionless and she gave up. Her heart was breaking inside as she lowered her arms.

“Sorry you didn’t like what you see enough to make a play for it. Good night, Braden.”

It was only three steps. Only three steps would get her past him and she could run to her room, hide away and let the tears fall.

He didn’t let her take more than one. His arms wrapped around her, clutching her against his solid body as his mouth stole her very breath away.