Ride the Tide (Deep Six #3) - Julie Ann Walker Page 0,41

running through her blood. Like most intoxicated people, she wanted to share her buzz. Maybe folks could get a contact high just by being around her.

Wouldn’t that be nice for them?

After dragging a comb through her wet hair and watching the curls spring into loose spirals, she slathered on some lotion, taped fresh Band-Aids to her forehead, and slipped on her glasses.

A quick peek at her reflection showed her eyes were bright and flashing, her lips were deep pink from the heat of the shower, and her jaw was set at an obstinate angle. The months spent on Wayfarer Island had given her pale skin a faint, rosy glow. No access to a regular stylist meant her hair was longer than it’d ever been in her life, reaching past her shoulder blades, and if she wasn’t mistaken, those were actual muscles in her arms.

She flexed and was surprised to see definition. All the swimming and diving and digging in the sand had done her some good. She’d never have Michelle Obama arms, but hers would do in a pinch.

Except for the bandages, she thought she looked…decent. She wasn’t going to win any beauty contests, but that was the case any day of the week.

She exited the room after throwing on the hotel’s complimentary robe and slipping into her flip-flops. All her clean clothes were in her bag on the catamaran, so she’d sent the dirty clothes she’d been wearing to the hotel laundry with a note pleading with them to get everything washed and back by tomorrow morning.

She hoped everyone would simply assume she was wearing a swimsuit under her robe. After all, this was Key West. People tended to run around robed when hopping from their rooms to the pool to the beach.

Once she was in the hallway, she turned toward the elevator. She had one destination in mind. The downstairs bar.

Number one, she could use a stiff drink. Number two, she was starving. And if memory served, the kitchen stayed open ’til midnight.

As she waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive, she ticked off on her fingers the events of the day. She’d gone all gooey over a guy who was a big fat liar, had learned to shoot a handgun, had shot a handgun, had been shot at, had seen three men die violently, had watched the big fat liar get stabbed, had hitched a ride for the second time in her life on a Coast Guard cutter, had been questioned to exhaustion by local, state, and federal authorities, and had stood by helplessly as all her hopes and dreams of the big fat liar had died an instant death.

She laughed a little hysterically and thought, What will I do tomorrow for an encore?

Then the elevator arrived. When it opened, she made sure her expression was appropriately unneurotic looking. She didn’t want to frighten the elderly couple who moved aside to make room for her.

Her theory about the robe/swimsuit combo proved correct when the man, who bore a striking resemblance to George Burns, said, “It’s a beautiful night for a swim.”

“Mmm,” Alex hummed noncommittally. She didn’t want to be rude, but it was difficult to speak when she was busy chewing nails.

“Just be careful of those bandages, dearie. I’m sure you’re not supposed to get them wet,” added the man’s…wife?…sister?…friend?…lover? Alex wasn’t an ageist, sexist, or traditionalist; she didn’t want to make any assumptions.

Since she figured what would come next was a question about how she’d injured herself, since she didn’t currently have the wherewithal to think up a good lie, and since she sure as heck couldn’t tell them the truth, she forced herself to spit out the nails, paste on a passive smile, and ask, “Is this your first time to Key West?”

“Oh no, dearie.” The woman chuckled. Alex couldn’t tell if her eyes were gray or just clouded by cataracts. “We come every year to celebrate our anniversary.” The woman patted George Burns’s arm. “Yesterday marked fifty-eight years of marriage.”

“Wow! Happy anniversary.” Alex wondered if she would ever find someone who would love her for fifty-eight years.

Judging by her current trajectory, the odds weren’t looking good.

“I bet you want to know the secret, huh?” The man winked at Alex. Since the lenses of his round glasses magnified his eyes to about three times their normal size, the experience was a little startling.

“Do tell,” Alex enthused, surprised she didn’t have to fake it. The little couple was just too cute. It was impossible to hold