Giving In (The Sandy Cove Series Book 1) (15 page)

We are still doing our little morning ritual
when he’s not sleeping from working a long shift. We sit on the
dock, drink coffee, watch the sun rise sometimes and talk. I
attempt to dangle my feet in the water, if I’m in an up mood. The
water is somewhat therapy for me. Even though I don’t go in it,
just the movement of it, the calmness it distributes, makes me feel
a sense of calm inside this unbalanced head of mine. That and the
combination of Cruz’s and my early morning talks. He’s almost like
Dr. Goldberg. It’s as though I’m in session, but now it’s this guy
I live next to, who I had sex with a year ago, without knowing
him.

Jesus, I did that and didn’t know him.

Sometimes that seeps into my brain, and I can’t
shut it off. I’ve never been a highly sexual being. Only being with
one person besides Cruz, that’s what you can call me… quite
inexperienced.

But I was a different person that night. I was
uninhibited, lustful, greedy even. My dominant side shone through
in my actions. Actions I can’t take back if I tried, and once in a
while Cruz will remind me of that.

Craw is coming in today for a few days. We are
going out tonight to this new place on the bay, The Boat Stop,
where people can drive their boats up to its docks, park, and walk
to the bar. I’m excited for Craw to meet the guys.

The blissful morning sun is warm and inviting on
my face. Just the sounds of the seagulls is better music to my ears
than any song on the radio.

“Mornin’, Turnip.”

I turn to see it’s Cruz, still in his uniform
from his shift.

I peer up at him, swallowing hard. A feeling
enters the pit of my stomach, it’s unfamiliar and ever present for
some unexplained reason.

The uniform. It’s just the uniform.

Blue is his color. It brings out the color of
his opulent eyes.

I ignore my stomach.

“Good morning to you too, or am I about to say
goodnight?”

He laughs and takes a sip of his coffee.

“Goodnight, yes. I just got back. It was a busy
night. Two calls for bar fights, and one domestic, and a shitload
of paperwork.”

Poor guy. He looks tired. He’s been working hard
trying to prove himself to the precinct he works in so they may
hire him on a permanent, full-time basis.

“Then if you’re so tired, why are you out
here.”

He shrugs. “This is our thing, that’s why. I
didn’t want to miss it.”

Ok.

“So what time is your brother getting here?”

“Around ten. We are headed over to that new
place tonight on the bay. Are you coming?”

He nods and stands up, stretches and starts to
unbutton his uniform shirt.

Wait. What. Huh?

Cruz peels it off from his body. A tight, white
undershirt reveals the muscular outline of his body. I can see the
ripples from his strong stomach muscles, his inked arms, and the
crest of his pecs. He strips it off swiftly, but my brain is
processing it as methodical, inching it off his body, displaying
one inch of skin a centimeter at a time.

I’m awakened suddenly from my slow motion brain
activity when he throws the shirt he just took off at my face.

“Hey!” I throw it back at him.

“You looked like you were in some kind of dream
state there. I had to wake you up. You had this weird look on your
face.”

My thoughts go back to him being a jerk. I
wasn’t making a weird face. My thought process just slowed down
momentarily.

“I’m fine. Tired I guess. I didn’t sleep well
last night.”

He looks at me, inquisitively.

“Really? Two nights ago you said you slept like
a baby, and the night before that too. That kind of sucks. Did you
drink too much coffee or something those nights? I was working
twelve’s, so I didn’t know if you guys were just staying in, or if
you headed out.”

He’s right. The nights he worked, I slept like
crap. Tossed and turned all night.

“We went to dinner one of the nights, and the
other stayed in and played board games. No coffee and just a few
drinks when we were playing games.”

“Oh, well. Too bad. Ok, well, I’m going to hit
the sack for a few hours. What time tonight?”

“Ten.”

He smiles and makes his way over to the chair
I’m sitting in. He bends down and kisses the top of my head and
strokes my hair with his hand. I’m rendered speechless, my mind not
processing this display of affection correctly.

“Goodnight, Turnip. I’ll see you later.”

Cruz turns and walks up the dock back to the
house, and I’m left thinking of his simple gesture. Then I have it,
what it was, what that meant.

Yes, it’s the brother/sister thing.

I hear Willow call to me from the deck.

“Harlow, Craw just pulled up.”

My little brother is here. I haven’t seen him in
over a month. Craw and I are so close. I consider him one of my
best friends. He was there for me so much over the past year and a
half. His support has meant so much to me. He was my mind when I
didn’t have one. I run out to the deck and peer over the railing.
My brother gets out of the car, closes his door and looks up at the
house. I wave my hands and jump up and down.

He smiles when he sees me, and I feel warm and
happy when I see his face.

He reaches the deck and I run to him and hug him
with all my might.

“Oh, Craw. I’m so happy you’re here. I missed
you so much.”

He squeezes me back, lifts my body and spins me
around.

“I missed you too, Har.” He lets me go and steps
back, grabbing my hands and surveys me.

“You look fantastic, sweetheart. The shore has
done wonders for you.”

He brings a smile to my face. Every time,
without fail.

“Thank you very much. The sun has been kind to
this pale skin of mine. Come on in and I’ll get you something to
eat.”

We walk into the house. The girls greet him with
hugs. We have a brief conversation about what we all have been up
to since we’ve been here. Craw tells us about how he is taking
summer courses, so he can graduate a few months earlier than
expected. I ask how my mom and dad are, and if Greta is driving him
crazy, which he tells me yes. He calls her the ‘Princess of
Princeton’, which I always laugh at. I ask how Grandmother is, and
if she knew he was coming here. He tells me she didn’t say too much
because she is so wrapped up in Greta’s wedding. It’s the social
event of the year, so she’s preparing for her mirror image
debutante granddaughter to put on quite the show.

After an hour of conversing, the girls leave to
go to the beach, and Craw and I stay behind to catch up some more,
even though I talk and text with him all the time.

We sit on the sofa and he kicks off his shoes
and lounges.

“So, you look terrific on the outside, how’s it
going on the inside? Still talking with Dr. Goldberg?”

Craw is constantly on me about therapy, which is
a good thing. He worries, especially with me here and him being at
home.

“Yes. Two days a week. I’ve been feeling so
good. I am still taking my meds every day.”

He pats my knee and grins.

“Good girl. It’s important, Harlow. You’re down
to two days a week, maybe in time you can go down to one. I’m proud
of you.”

“Thanks, Craw.”

“How’s living next to Porter’s friends?”

He sort of knows Max but hasn’t met Cruz yet. I
think I kind of have to tell him the truth, who he is and what
happened between us before someone else does.

“Good. You know them, well most of them, they’re
great.”

He crinkles up his forehead and smirks.

“All of them. I thought it was just Porter and
Max.”

“Well, not exactly.”

I go on to tell him everything, from me kneeing
Cruz in the testes, to me falling in the water. He already knew
what transpired between Cruz and me last year, how I didn’t know
him, or his last name, or the fact that he doesn’t go by Raphael.
At one point during our conversation, Craw’s eyes bug out of his
head.

“Well you little slut.”

I smack his leg, and he smacks me back.

“I am not a slut. Every time I think of what I
did I cringe, Craw. That wasn’t me that night.”

“You were so a slut, at least for that brief
time. I told you when you told me it happened I was glad you let
go. It’s sometimes fun not being yourself, Harlow. Embrace it.”

That’s such a hard line for me to cross. I was
with one person for so long. It was almost like I had an out of
body experience.

“So did you guys hookup again? Are you
interested in pursuing something with him?”

“Absolutely not. He’s a man-whore. We are just
friends. Actually getting to be great friends. We are getting along
really well. He’s a cop down here, well a rent-a-cop, but he’s
trying to get a full time position. I can’t wait for you to meet
him.”

Craw stares at me. He’s focused on my eyes, and
I don’t know why.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask
him.

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because in eighteen months I haven’t seen your
face light up like this until this moment.”

He’s crazy. I smile all the time, at least when
I’m having a good day. And we are just having a conversation, and
I’m telling him about Cruz. What’s the big deal.

“What are you talking about.”

He inches closer to me, rests his face on his
hand, and his elbow on his knee. He studies my face.

“You talk about this guy like he’s a superhero.
The smile on your face when you said his name says more to me than
I think even you know.”

His words are farcical. I don’t demonstrate any
of the characteristics he’s talking about. Cruz and I are friends.
We have great conversations, we talk about everything under the
sun, and we respect each other, for now anyway.

I brush past his comments and suggest we grab
some stuff for the beach. I tell him we are going out tonight to a
new place, and the cabs will be here by nine forty five.

Craw and I head down to the beach for a little
bit. Porter and the girls are there. Cruz is sleeping after his
exhausting shift. He works very hard. Sometimes it surprises me he
has such a good work ethic, but from what he tells me, he inherited
that trait from his father, who is also a very hard worker.

After an hour or two of soaking up the sun, we
head home to get ready for our night out. Our ritual for going out
always consists of loud, get you on your feet dance music, a few
cocktails and chips, greasy, salty potato chips. After we are all
done with our hair, makeup and consumption of fattening chips, I
see Craw outside smoking a cigarette on the deck. I step out to
tell him the cabs will be here any minute.

“I thought you were going to quit, Craw.” I
sound like my mom, but I hate that he does it, and I hate more the
reason why he started in the first place.

Me.

“I am, I promise. When you go down to therapy
one day a week, then I will.”

“Therapy? Who’s in therapy?”

I hear a big, monotone voice behind me, and it
jolts my body.

It’s Cruz.

“Oh, hey. I want you to meet my brother
Crawford.”

Craw sticks out his hand to Cruz.

“Please, call me Craw.”

Cruz takes his hand.

“Oh, hey. The brother, right? I’m Cruz. I’ve
heard a lot about you from Turnip here.”

Craw turns to me with a scowl.

“Turnip?”

Oh, great. More fuel to add to the fire of
Craw’s accusations that there’s more than friendship here. I need
to defuse this, now.

“It’s a silly nickname he gave me. Don’t mind
him.”

Craw looks to me, then back to Cruz, not really
believing it’s just a pet name. That’s exactly what it is. A
friendly joke.

“Well anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Cruz. I’ve
heard a lot about you from my sister. A lot.”

I’ll kill him for emphasizing the ‘a lot’ in
that statement. I feel my cheeks redden, as I feel the need to turn
this conversation to something else.

Cruz knows what Craw meant, but he doesn’t say
anything. He winks at me and continues to ask him questions.

“So Harlow tells me you are in your last year of
college. Teacher, right?”

Craw nods. “Yep, just like my big sis. Hopefully
she’ll get a position soon, and then she can put a good word in for
me when she does.”

“Well, good luck to you. I have no doubt your
sister is going to make an excellent teacher, and from what she
tells me, you will be one too.”

I’ll have to admit, although I don’t want to,
but that was probably the sweetest thing to come out of Raphael
Cruz’s big mouth.

Porter yells to us that the cabs have arrived,
so we make our way down to meet them. Craw grabs my arm in the
process and whispers, “Just friends my ass, Turnip.” He winks at
me, and I roll my eyes. He’s dreaming.