Call Sign Karma. Jamie Rae

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СКАЧАТЬ opened up the pantry, and rummaged through the container. The closest thing to rice was quinoa. It was a grain, wasn’t it? I shrugged and dropped the phone in the bag. It was close enough.

      Out the window, my stranger remained sitting on the deck with his icepack. At least it gave me a little time to run to my room and scope out my reflection.

      My hair was drying into a natural beach wave and I tousled it to add a little volume. I breathed into my hand, then squirted a blob of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and quickly scrubbed my teeth. After adding a little mascara on my lashes, I swiped my lips with lip balm. Oh my God. What was I doing?

      I didn’t understand how this guy could make me feel so crazy. I didn’t know a single thing about him—not even his name. I was acting like a high school girl with a crush. This wasn’t me. Were an accent and a panty-dropping smirk all it took to ground me?

      I was having a horrible night before he came along and tomorrow was going to be a shit day. I had enough to drink and I didn’t give a damn. Tonight, I would allow myself to feel something—anything. For one night. Then, tomorrow he would go back to wherever he was from and I would continue onto my path of hell.

      After all, it was a holiday, a day to celebrate independence. It used to be my favorite. Maybe, just maybe, it could be once again.

      Chapter 3

      One hot Brit and a cold beer coming right up.

      Thankfully, I had another six-pack stashed in the back of the fridge. Swallowing my nerves, I tucked it under my arm and limped outside.

      “Are you all right?” he asked as he stood up.

      “Yeah, I think a crab bit my foot in the water,” I replied and shrugged to downplay it, but my foot hurt like hell.

      He reached out, took the bottles and placed them in the cooler.

      “You should prop it up,” he said folding a towel on the chaise.

      I nodded. I sat and elevated my foot as he opened two of the bottles and handed me one.

      “Cheers,” I said and lifted mine with gratitude.

      He flinched.

      “Really?” I choked out, but I couldn’t blame him after our initial meeting.

      “Sorry, it was a bit of a knee-jerk reaction,” he said. “Round one was a bottle to head. Round two was a nut to the nose, and round three, the door smashing. Who knows what round four holds?”

      “Nut to the nose?” I asked and fought a grin. “What the hell does that mean?”

      “A head butt.”

      I laughed, trying to shake the first visual from my mind.

      “Yeah, really funny,” he said with a smile. “You injured me three times, then left me to die.”

      He raised three fingers, but then laughed. I liked the rich baritone sound.

      “You caught me off guard,” I said and took a swig of my beer.

      “I caught you off guard? Hell, I didn’t know what hit me. Literally.”

      “I’m sorry,” I finally admitted out loud. I shrugged and chewed on the inside of my lip. “This is a private beach. There aren’t people around very often. Or at least not anyone close to my age.”

      At least he looked close to my age but something about him seemed more mature. The way he held my eyes when I spoke and the way he’d folded the towel beneath my foot, even the way he handed me my beer and waited for me to take the first drink seemed more reserved than most of the guys I’d known.

      My curiosity peaked. “How old are you anyway?”

      He shrugged a shoulder and leaned forward, answering me in nearly a whisper. “It’s impolite to ask a person their age, you know.”

      “It’s impolite that you never told me your name,” I responded.

      His smile widened to show straight, white teeth. “Locke,” he said. “And I’m twenty-six.”

      He extended his hand to me and I leaned forward to accept.

      His grip was firm. Confident. Assertive. He locked onto my eyes. There was something about the way he watched me, observed me that made me feel comfortable, yet vulnerable.

      I broke the stare and nodded at his tattoo. It was an intricate design, richly colored in burgundy, navy and gold with what appeared to be a lion holding a tiny gold circle.

      “You don’t seem like the tattoo type,” I blurted out. Not that I knew what this stranger’s type was.

      He ran his fingers across the design. I shivered at the thought of those fingertips running down my body.

      “It was done on a dare,” he said as his gaze locked on mine. “It’s my family’s crest.”

      “Family crest? Wow, how very British,” I responded, giving him my best British accent.

      “Yes, it is very British. Unlike your accent.”

      “What’s wrong with my accent?”

      “It’s Australian,” he said with a teasing smile on his lips.

      “No, it’s clearly British.” I pronounced ‘British’ with the accent and waited for his response. He raised his eyebrow as if he realized that he was not going to win this argument. I couldn’t help but smile.

      “Where did you go to college?” I asked.

      He took another sip of his beer before he answered, “I attended Cambridge.”

      Warmth spread through my body. Locke was hot and well educated.

      “Cambridge University,” I said, attempting to correct my accent.

      “That was Jamaican.”

      I swatted at him and tipped from the chair. I swung my foot down to catch my balance and winced. Damn, my foot throbbed.

      “You okay?” he asked.

      “I’m fine,” I said, adding another lie to the long list that continued to accumulate.

      “Is there a first aid kit inside?”

      “I don’t know, maybe in the bathroom,” I said with a shrug. “It’s not necessary, I’m okay.” I tossed back the last of my beer. Alcohol could numb any pain.

      “So are you going to tell me why you were shouting at the ocean?”

      I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was enjoying myself. A fun, flirty conversation was what I needed.

      His eyes narrowed as if he were studying me. “I can see that you’ve been terribly СКАЧАТЬ