She kissed my shoulder. “It’s probably nothing to worry about. He’s just busy, I bet. He called me yesterday at lunch and sounded fine. He wanted to let me know he might be a little bit quiet because of his schedule.”
I relaxed a little bit, but it didn’t feel right. Something was off, and I’d learned long ago to listen to my gut. If it said something was wrong, something was f**king wrong. “Yeah. Sure.”
She let go of me. “Now go get ready. I want to get out in the ocean.”
I headed for the bathroom, my phone still in my hand. As I brushed my teeth, I jotted off a quick text to Senator Wallington. Carrie’s okay. All is well.
Within a minute I had a reply. Thank you.
That was it. A thank you. There was nothing wrong with the text, per se. But it wasn’t right, damn it. I shook off the feeling that was bugging the f**k out of me, and focused on the date I’d promised Carrie. She had enough to stress about, what with that weird phone call I’d gotten that neither of us could make any sense out of, so I didn’t need to go obsessing about the tone of a text message like some pansy-assed little girl.
I leaned against the door, my eyes on my reflection. The nagging sensation that something was wrong wouldn’t let go. On top of that, I figured out what was bugging me from when we’d talked about our date.
I stared at myself, all tattoos, dog tags, muscles, swim trunks and five-o-clock shadow—it hit me. The problem with her wanting a fancy date with flowers and dresses and jewelry and valet parking was I wasn’t fancy.
I could put on an expensive suit and pretend.
I could afford to be that guy, money-wise.
But underneath the suit and the charming smile, I was the tatted-up Marine that had no place dating the daughter of a prospective President of the United States of America. She was supposed to be with a trust fund baby. One who had money and wealth and recognition.
Me? I so wasn’t that guy.
I never would be.
Chapter Six
The waves were strong, but not so much that I had to worry about being taken under. Thank God. I’d already been there once before, right after I found out Finn was working for my father, and I had no desire to be there again.
I looked over at him, and he was watching me, his warm blue eyes shining. His light brown hair looked almost blond in the sunlight, and his wetsuit clung to his muscles like a second skin. And I knew under that suit was a perfect body with an even more perfect heart underneath of it. He smiled at me, but I could tell it was strained.
He was upset about Dad not texting him, and I was, too. Even though I played it off like it was no big deal, it did sound bad. I called him while Finn was in the bathroom, and he hadn’t answered. That freaked me out.
Almost as much as the call Finn had gotten from his commanding officer.
And it was killing me to act like it wasn’t killing me.
“Hey, back at my place you told me to remind you about a story,” he said, his tone light and teasing. It didn’t fool me, though. He was stressed—and so was I. “What happened in Italy?”
My cheeks heated, and I looked over my shoulder. Why had I told him I’d tell him about that? Ugh. “Well, for me to explain, I have to tell another story first. You might already know it. Did you hear about what happened in Nevada when I was ten?”
Finn’s brow creased. “No. My dad wasn’t there yet. I was still in California. My mom was still alive…” He trailed off, his eyes focused on a past I couldn’t see. “At that point in my life, I was a carefree surfer boy who thought he was invincible. My dad worked on a high-security detail for the governor, and my mom was healthy as a horse.”
I nodded, wanting to probe more about what his life had been like before his mother died, but knowing now was not the time. He wanted his story, so I would give it to him. “There’s a reason my dad is as crazy as he is. Back then, he wasn’t so insistent we have security on us twenty-four/seven. I had freedom and there were actually times when I was on my own. We were free.”
“You didn’t have someone on you constantly?”
I shook my head. “Nope. In fact, Mom and I got bored while Dad was campaigning, so we decided to go shopping at the local mall to pass some time. We didn’t bring anyone with us.”
“I think I see where this is going,” he said dryly. “You got lost and he panicked?”
I shook my head. “Nope. We got abducted.”
“W-What?” he said, sitting up straight. “Are you f**king kidding me?”
“I wish.” I sighed and looked over my shoulder. I hated talking about it. It had been a nightmare. “The guy was a complete idiot, so they found us pretty quickly, but my dad got really shaken up about it. We all did. And ever since then, he’s been different. Controlling.”
He sighed. “I almost get it now. If something happened to you on my watch, I’d probably go insane, too.”
“Even though we were the ones who were abducted, I think he’s the one who had the major post-traumatic stress issues. Mom and me?” I shrugged and stared out at the ocean before turning to Finn. “We moved on, but with the security that Dad insists follow us everywhere. And it’s stayed that way ever since.”
Finn nodded, his hands tight on his board. “So that’s why he makes me follow you around out here.”
“Yeah.” I watched a fairly large wave form in the distance, rolling slowly toward us. I loved the way the waves did that—started small but slowly built up height before crashing to the sand. I could sit here all day and watch Mother Nature do her worst. “And in Italy, I escaped the watchmen.”
Finn flinched. “Please tell me you weren’t kidnapped.”
“I wasn’t.” I smiled at him. “But I didn’t answer my dad’s texts and he freaked the hell out. I mean, catastrophic panic.”
Finn tapped his fingers on his board, playing a tune I didn’t recognize. “I would’ve been away then. I missed the show.”
“You’re lucky. I hear it was quite ugly.” I sighed and tore my eyes from the water, looking back at my other favorite sight—otherwise known as Finn.
“Where did you go? In Italy?”
“I wanted to flirt with that guy I told you about when we first met. The Italian guy I mentioned. Remember him?”
His brows slammed down. “I do. But do I want to hear anything else?”
He was glowering at me now, but at least he looked more alive than he had for a while. Ever since he asked me on a date he’d been acting weird. Brooding, almost. I could tell something was bothering him, but I had no idea what it was or if it was even related to our date later tonight.