Dead Calm. Lindsay Longford
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light scent of her sweat, the salty air of the Gulf.
Overhead he sensed the movement of clouds, heard the angry squawk of seagulls.
For the first time in months, everything in his body and brain had stopped. He felt like a shell shimmering on the sand, abandoned by the tide.
Empty, washed clean.
And he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, to slide into that darkness and stay there, unmoving.
The wind came off the Gulf and raised goose bumps everywhere Judah wasn’t. Sophie shivered, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t. She needed a minute to think. She couldn’t believe what she’d done. She’d just taken, dived headlong into the moment with no thought of consequences. She’d come off the waves with her anger and confusion not eased by the wild surf, and there was Judah. Frowning, hostile, but he was there, draped in seaweed and sending off waves of energy that bounced against her own unsettled emotions, his energy smashing against her own. Wind against current, the ninth wave of surfing, the big wave, the one surfers waited for.
Unthinking, not caring why he’d shown up, not wanting to think about the reasons for his anger, she’d simply reached out and clambered aboard the wave of their energy, ridden it to the end. It had been worth it, too, every second of that intensity.
Stupid?
Sure. Of course it was. No protection. All the questions about their relationship. The torturous mix of emotions. And in the aftermath, this loneliness and emptiness. But for those few minutes… She turned her head slightly and stared at the sand. Did she regret what she’d done?
Yes. No. Maybe.
She groaned.
At the sound, Judah shifted against her, moved away. Minus the blanket of his body, she was cold. Her teeth clicked together. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sat up. Her scalp itched with sand and dried salt. At least there weren’t any mirrors close at hand. Fine. She’d made her bed. She’d lie in it. So to speak. She pulled her top closed.
Beside her, she glimpsed Judah’s movements as he struggled to ease himself back into salt-stiffened jeans.
“So.” She stood up, caught the quick, sideways glance he threw her way. He was embarrassed. And now she was, too. Hideously embarrassed. And defensive. What had she done? And why?
Well, she could answer that question. She shoved her hair out of her face and took a deep breath. Could the aftermath of her craziness get any more humiliating?
“You must be wondering—” He cleared his throat.
“What must I be wondering, Judah? Tell me?”
“Why I’m here. What’s up.”
“I think that question’s been pretty well answered.”
He frowned, looked away. Then, taking a deep breath, he continued doggedly. “Why I’m here. You know what I mean.”
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