Read Online Barefoot Bay: Silhouettes on the Sand (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Chris Keniston - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Chris Keniston
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would make moving on easier for him."
"I don't know. None of us do. Even the Colonel treads lightly around him, and treading lightly is not the Colonel's way."
"So I've heard." Leaning back against the counter, C.J. blew into her tea. "The ladies were very friendly too. I thought they were teasing me when they told me Frankie runs a goat farm."
"Don't laugh. That soap business of hers does very well."
"That's what she said. The perfect combination of business savvy with natural and organic." C.J. took a cautious sip. The hot brew burned the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed anyhow. Better her tongue than other places that were already steaming up. "I think I'll call it a night."
"Yeah. Sure." Chase set his untouched mug on the table and followed her up the stairs.
How was it that he climbed more than a step behind her and yet she could feel the heat of his body as sharply as though he were pressed up against her? And wasn't that someplace she didn't need her mind to go. Refusing to look back, knowing that, if she saw him, her military resolve might shatter, she didn't speak until she reached her bedroom door. "Good night."
Softly, from his door, Chase's voice crossed the distance, lower and huskier than usual. "Night."
Twenty-four hours with Chase and sleeping alone were already the effort of the century. How the hell was she going to make it through seven more nights?
Chapter Eleven
Only six o'clock in the morning and Chase was more than ready for another cold shower. He'd taken a long one last night, until his balls had shriveled like a couple of aged walnuts. Not that it had helped him sleep any easier. When he got back to New York, he should get his head out of the office and spend a little more time with female companionship. How sad was it that an employee, so to speak, had him all bent out of shape? For now a long run on the beach might help work out some of the sexual frustration.
The only problem with that plan was C.J. herself. Waiting for him downstairs, even in a pair of maroon running shorts and an oversized khaki T-shirt, she had his morning wood threatening to come back to life. Down, boy .
Short boyish hair, no makeup, and a shirt big enough for a sumo wrestler should not have looked so damn good on her at the near crack of dawn. Neither did it help that C.J. had gorgeous legs that seemed to run all the way to her neck. This was a woman who definitely knew physical activity. He'd always thought himself a boob man. In that oversized T-shirt, it was impossible to tell if C.J. even had boobs, but damn did she have legs. Shapely, toned, strong, and, if he didn't start thinking of something extremely unpleasant, like Chinese water torture, he'd be embarrassing himself in no time. "Ready?"
"More than."
She had the door open and was trotting down the path before he'd taken his first step. It took a few minutes to find a rhythm that worked for both of them. He wasn't in the habit of jogging on the beach, and, until he moved to C.J.'s opposite side on the more packed sand, he'd struggled just a little. Not that he would ever admit that.
The way C.J. kept a steady pace, he could tell running was definitely a regular routine for her. The sun crept over the horizon, changing the dull gray to strings of blue and pink and finally burning yellow over the water with the strewn clouds taking on colorful hues.
"I love the sunrise." C.J. slowed her pace.
"What about sunset?"
"That too, but there's something about the promise of a new day, a new beginning, that offers me more peace."
"Are you looking for peace, C.J.?"
Her gaze in the distance, she eased out of a trot to a gentle walk. "I suppose I am. What about you?"
"Me?" He shortened his stride to keep in step with her. "My life is very peaceful."
"I guess that's why you have to hire dates for family events?"
"That would be date . As in singular. And that's because my life is complicated, not unpeaceful."
C.J. nodded. "Got it."
"All right."
"I don't know. None of us do. Even the Colonel treads lightly around him, and treading lightly is not the Colonel's way."
"So I've heard." Leaning back against the counter, C.J. blew into her tea. "The ladies were very friendly too. I thought they were teasing me when they told me Frankie runs a goat farm."
"Don't laugh. That soap business of hers does very well."
"That's what she said. The perfect combination of business savvy with natural and organic." C.J. took a cautious sip. The hot brew burned the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed anyhow. Better her tongue than other places that were already steaming up. "I think I'll call it a night."
"Yeah. Sure." Chase set his untouched mug on the table and followed her up the stairs.
How was it that he climbed more than a step behind her and yet she could feel the heat of his body as sharply as though he were pressed up against her? And wasn't that someplace she didn't need her mind to go. Refusing to look back, knowing that, if she saw him, her military resolve might shatter, she didn't speak until she reached her bedroom door. "Good night."
Softly, from his door, Chase's voice crossed the distance, lower and huskier than usual. "Night."
Twenty-four hours with Chase and sleeping alone were already the effort of the century. How the hell was she going to make it through seven more nights?
Chapter Eleven
Only six o'clock in the morning and Chase was more than ready for another cold shower. He'd taken a long one last night, until his balls had shriveled like a couple of aged walnuts. Not that it had helped him sleep any easier. When he got back to New York, he should get his head out of the office and spend a little more time with female companionship. How sad was it that an employee, so to speak, had him all bent out of shape? For now a long run on the beach might help work out some of the sexual frustration.
The only problem with that plan was C.J. herself. Waiting for him downstairs, even in a pair of maroon running shorts and an oversized khaki T-shirt, she had his morning wood threatening to come back to life. Down, boy .
Short boyish hair, no makeup, and a shirt big enough for a sumo wrestler should not have looked so damn good on her at the near crack of dawn. Neither did it help that C.J. had gorgeous legs that seemed to run all the way to her neck. This was a woman who definitely knew physical activity. He'd always thought himself a boob man. In that oversized T-shirt, it was impossible to tell if C.J. even had boobs, but damn did she have legs. Shapely, toned, strong, and, if he didn't start thinking of something extremely unpleasant, like Chinese water torture, he'd be embarrassing himself in no time. "Ready?"
"More than."
She had the door open and was trotting down the path before he'd taken his first step. It took a few minutes to find a rhythm that worked for both of them. He wasn't in the habit of jogging on the beach, and, until he moved to C.J.'s opposite side on the more packed sand, he'd struggled just a little. Not that he would ever admit that.
The way C.J. kept a steady pace, he could tell running was definitely a regular routine for her. The sun crept over the horizon, changing the dull gray to strings of blue and pink and finally burning yellow over the water with the strewn clouds taking on colorful hues.
"I love the sunrise." C.J. slowed her pace.
"What about sunset?"
"That too, but there's something about the promise of a new day, a new beginning, that offers me more peace."
"Are you looking for peace, C.J.?"
Her gaze in the distance, she eased out of a trot to a gentle walk. "I suppose I am. What about you?"
"Me?" He shortened his stride to keep in step with her. "My life is very peaceful."
"I guess that's why you have to hire dates for family events?"
"That would be date . As in singular. And that's because my life is complicated, not unpeaceful."
C.J. nodded. "Got it."
"All right."
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