Chapter 10

I was on a grassy patch on the outskirts of the Sterling's property. Everything around me was scorched or still on fire. The people that could walk were staggering around in confusion. I held a hand to my head. I wish this would stop happening. The air was thick with ash, making my eyes burn. I looked around… trying to find… anyone. I saw Scarlett a few yards away from me with a rag held to her head. Pierce was far off to the side of the chaos barking into his cellphone. Margret was next to him, her eyes pinned on the wreckage, a hand pressed to her mouth. What even happened? My eyes found the podium where Bryce had been standing… it was practically a pile of ash. The ground was black. There's no way he survived that.

"Flynn," I mumbled. "Flynn?" I tried to stand up. I had to look for him. He was with me not even seconds before the explosion. Where is he?

"Tanner!" I heard a voice call. Still holding my head, I turned, feeling a bit disappointed when Grant rushed over to me. "Are you okay?" he asked, checking me over for any injuries.

I nodded. "I think so, but-"

"Are you really okay? You're not lying this time, are you?" his worried expression made me frown.

"Really, I'm fine. But where… where's Flynn… and Naomi?" I looked around.

The squawk of a radio caught my attention. Naomi was walking towards us over the rubble.

Grant looked up at where the stage was. "The fireworks all went off at once. I don't think Bryce… I mean…," he stuttered.

"The blast must have sent him over the cliff," Naomi said. "We'll search the beach for his body as soon as we can, but," she looked at the stage, "I don't think anyone could have survived that."

"Karma's a bitch, huh?" I spun around to find Flynn behind me, limping worse than he was before the explosion.

"Oh my god," I threw my arms around his neck, thankful that he was okay. He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me close for a second before pulling away with a weary smile.

"Wow, Flynn," Grant snapped. "Even for you that's incredibly callous."

Letting him use me as a crutch, I helped Flynn take a few steps forward. "The guy was a vicious, self-centered drunk. I'm not shedding any tears for him," he said harshly.

Grant frowned. "I know you and Bryce had your issues, but he… he had a lot of personal struggles."

"Flynn's right. Good riddance," I said with a bit of a scowl. "I'm not saying this was how he deserved to die, but…," I thought about it. "No, I guess that is what I'm saying. Bryce was a vindictive asshole. No amount of personal baggage gives you a pass on that. We all have our issues."

"I guess he was pretty awful," Grant hung his head, "but we've had enough death around here."

I gave him a mournful look. "I'm sorry, Grant. I know this is hard for you."

"It just feels like the entire town is falling apart at the seams," he looked around at the chaos.

"At least there don't appear to be any other casualties," Naomi spoke up. "Some injuries from the debris, obviously, and Lester Bovko had a heart attack," she went on, "but there was a cardiologist in the crowd. She told me he's going to be alright."

Flynn let out a quick breath. "That's good to hear."

"I'm glad you guys are all safe, but now I need to help the injured," she said. We all nodded in understanding before she ran back into the haze.

We stood in silence for a minute, looking around at the devastation. "Do either of you have any idea what the hell just happened?" Grant asked, still lost for answers. "That couldn't have been an accident, could it?"

"I highly doubt it," I said. "I think it was sabotage. First Tanner, now Bryce? That's no coincidence. Whoever's behind this has a vendetta against the Sterlings."

"That would explain why they kidnapped Kate," Flynn added. "She was about to become a Sterling, after all."

"And that cabin was covered in stalker photos of them," I bounced back at him.

He nodded. "Okay, I'm with you, but what does it all mean? Why would someone want to take the Sterlings out?" he asked the real question.

"I don't know, but," Grant tried to answer, "it might mean that Margret and Pierce are next." Silence filled the space again. "So… it looks like we have no idea what happened."

"Not yet," I said, "but there's a lot of debris near the podium. If this was deliberate, there might be proof."

Sirens blared from the distance, drowning out my thoughts, and the blue and red lights lit up the smoky fog. "That must be Walsh and company," I pursed my lips.

"Think you can handle it?" Grant asked, looking over at Scarlett. "I need to check on my sister." I nodded, and he hurried away to her side.

Naomi strode up to us, glaring at the squad cars. "Looks like the dream team is finally here," she looked agitated.

"To make a mess of things, no doubt," I shared her sentiment.

"Not if I can help it," she looked determined.

A slamming door caught our attention. Walsh climbed out of the car with a bullhorn as Pierce ran to him. They whispered back and forth, Walsh nodding.

"Well, that's not suspicious at all," I glared through the smoke at them.

When Pierce finished, Walsh raised the bullhorn to his mouth. "Attention, everyone," he announced. "If you're awaiting medical care, please remain calm. Paramedics are on their way." His voice cracked through the speaker, sounding more obnoxious than his usual voice. "If you're not injured, please clear the scene. The cleanup crew will be here shortly."

Naomi took a few steps towards him. "Sir, did you say 'cleanup crew'?"

"Yup! That's what he said!" Duffy beamed excitedly.

Walsh let out a sigh. "Duffy, did I tell you to speak?"

"No, sir," he frowned.

The chief held the bullhorn up to his mouth again, this time aiming it directly at Duffy's ear. "Then DON'T!" he shouted. Duffy shook, holding his hands over his ears. I flinched, knowing how bad that must have hurt. Flynn's eye twitched, feeling the same way.

"With all due respect, why are you bringing in a cleanup crew at this point?" Naomi asked urgently. "We need to collect the evidence first!"

He groaned. "Look, Deputy, this is private property. It belongs to the Sterlings, and they want to keep the grounds clean," he pulled some bullshit out of his ass.

"Are you serious?" Naomi looked like she was about to pop. "This is a crime scene."

Walsh looked a bit off guard. "They feel a deep responsibility to… uh… help protect the environment, which I, for one, applaud," he shuffled uncomfortably.

"Walsh, you just made that up," I accused, completely done with this guy.

He shifted again, adjusting his belt. "Excuse me? I'll have you know the Sterlings are very committed to… Bridgeport's precious coastline!" he fumbled for the words.

I scoffed. "Yeah, for the view."

"It is a pretty view," Duffy smiled, getting his ears back under control.

"I'm not going to stand here and listen to you badmouth our town's leading family," he blubbered angrily.

"They're certainly leading the getting-murdered rate…," Flynn mumbled.

"Flynn!" Naomi and I gasped at the same time.

Behind Walsh, a disaster cleanup van rolled to a stop. Several people in jumpsuits hopped out, carrying their equipment.

"Chief, please! We have to investigate!" Naomi pleaded.

He crossed his arms. "Investigate what? This was a tragic accident. Nothing else," he had some serious issues if he thought that no-one would notice how hard he was trying to cover this up.

"You can't know that without investigating!" Naomi argued, much more irritated now.

Walsh rolled his eyes. "Please. It happens all the time. Three thousand Americans die in fireworks-related accidents every month!" he made up.

"Really?" Duffy asked with a frown. "That doesn't seem true," he confirmed my suspicions, not that he needed to.

"This case is cut and dried. I see no need to interfere with the bereaved family's wishes," Walsh tried to shoo Naomi off.

"Are you out of your mind?" she snapped. "Bryce's brother was just murdered, his sister-in-law was kidnapped-," she tried to say, but he cut her off.

"There is nothing here that suggests foul play," he barked. She shook with rage.

"Not if the Sterlings want to keep it hush hush, there's not," Flynn growled.

Walsh glared at Flynn, bringing the bullhorn to his mouth once more. He took a deep breath before shouting, "For the last time, CLEAR THE GODDAMN SCENE! That's an order!"

Naomi stormed back over to us, motioning for us to leave reluctantly.

"That asshole's crossed the line from stooge to full-on henchman," Flynn spat.

"I think he may have crossed it a long time ago," Naomi shook her head, "but I still can't understand… why wouldn't the Sterlings want this investigated?"

I shrugged sarcastically. "I don't know, maybe 'cause they had something to do with it."

"You think they killed their own sons?" Flynn looked shocked at my suggestion.

"What? God, no, but I do think they know much more than they're letting on," I explained. "And a real investigation would reveal all the skeletons in their closet."

"You might be right," Naomi agreed.

Flynn shook his head. "Sorry, but I don't give a rat's ass about their motives. If Bryce was murdered, it'll show Kate's innocent. Finding proof of that in the wreckage could be our last chance to clear my sister's name," he looked at Naomi with a stern stare, asking her to help us or get out of the way.

I looked around. Grant was helping people into the ambulances as they arrived. Walsh and Duffy were picking up firework scraps from the wreckage.

Naomi clenched her fists and all of her pent-up rage came to the forefront. "Flynn's right. We need to get that evidence," she said.

"But how?" I asked. With Walsh already picking things up, how were we going to get passed him to get to them first?

"We steal it," she said coolly, causing Flynn and I to stare up at her in surprise.

He smiled. "Alright, now you're speaking my language."

"But… that's breaking the law. You could lose your job," I wanted to make sure she was up for it. The consequences could be devastating.

She tapped the badge on her shirt with two fingers. "My job is to protect the public, to serve justice. I fell in line with Walsh because I thought I had to, but enough is enough," she looked pissed, as well she should be. "I won't let him destroy evidence. I can't."

I nodded. "Fine, but let me steal it," I said, wanting to keep both of them from getting into more trouble.

"Um, hello? Ex-con bad boy here?" Flynn waved his hand with a big smile. "Doing illegal crap is kinda my whole thing."

I glared over at him. "Which is exactly why you shouldn't be anywhere near that scene," I hissed, and his smile disappeared. "The last thing you need is to get into more trouble. I'm a goody two-shoes with a clean record," I said logically. "If I get caught, I'll get off the easiest. Besides," I stared sternly at him, "with your leg how it is, you can't move around fast enough if you get caught." He looked away for a second, not arguing, but not wanting to accept it either.

"Tanner's right," Naomi agreed. "You shouldn't be the one to go up there, Flynn, but I don't think you should either, Tanner."

"Naomi," I looked her dead in the eyes. "I'm doing this for Kate." She furrowed her brows, understanding. "I couldn't keep Walsh from arresting her, but I'll be damned if he's going to convict her of murder," I had to hold in my rage. My blood was starting to pound in my ears.

Flynn grabbed my hand. "That's my boy," he grinned proudly.

Naomi stared at me with a worried expression for a minute, then nodded. "Alright, let's do this. Flynn, help me distract Walsh and Duffy. While they're focused on us, Tanner can find the remains of whatever blew Bryce off the cliff," she strategized.

"Distract how?" Flynn asked.

"I saw a cache of firecrackers in a corner," she started, and Flynn's face lit up.

"I love this plan already," he beamed, feeling better. Note to self: if Flynn ever feels down, just let him set something on fire.

Naomi snagged the firecrackers she said she'd seen and tossed a handful to Flynn. They walked off towards Walsh, and I crouched behind an overturned table, staying out of his line of sight. Duffy was sneaking desserts from a serving tray that had been left near the edge of the party when shit hit the fan. That's an easy distraction. Walsh gazed out over the wreckage, shaking his head. They were both too close for me to sneak over there without a successful distraction. Flynn winked at me briefly before whistling and casually slinging the firecrackers under the table next to Walsh. I flinched when the machine-gun like sound blasted through the air, making everyone around jump.

"Holy hell!" Walsh did a full 180-degree twist.

"We're under attack! It's just like Red Down!" Duffy screamed, ducking under the disheveled buffet table.

"For god's sake, Duffy, find those maniacs!" Walsh barked.

"I think I saw someone under the risers!" Naomi pointed towards the edge of the stands.

The three of them sprinted away, giving me the perfect opportunity to get in and out quickly. The front edge of the stage was still intact. I vaulted over it and ducked behind it, looking around for what had caused the destruction at ground zero. A huge pile of debris cluttered the area. I peeked over the edge to make sure I was clear. Flynn flashed a grin at me and Naomi gave me a quick thumbs up. I dug through the burnt-out fireworks and wood chips. Soon, I found a scorched label that looked familiar. It was the firework that Bryce was trying to light. I slid it into my inner blazer pocket and got out of there when the coast was clear.

It didn't take long for Walsh and Duffy to figure out what happened. "A buncha firecrackers?" Walsh huffed. "Are you serious?"

"I call them crackle bursts!" Duffy told the chief excitedly.

As you can imagine, it was not well received. "I swear to god, Duffy, one of these days I'm going to pistol-whip you."

I was able to avoid them and work my way back over to Flynn and Naomi at the edge of the risers. "I found the firework Bryce was holding when everything went to hell," I patted my chest over the pocket, "but what now?"

"Even if our lab had the means to analyze it, it's not like I could use the evidence," Naomi frowned.

Flynn shifted in his place, chewing his cheek and avoiding eye contact. "Why do you look like you have a bad idea?" I asked.

"I… might know a guy who knows a thing or two about explosives," he suggested.

Naomi looked over at him, her hand on her hip. "Through perfectly legal channels, I presume," she sounded doubtful, knowing that wasn't the case.

He pursed his lips guiltily. "Yeah, not so much."

She sighed. "Right. I'm going to pretend you never mentioned this 'guy' to me. And on that note, I should get back before they figure out that was a deliberate diversion," her annoyance came back. "You two be safe, and call me when you've got anything." She headed towards Walsh and Duffy.

I turned to Flynn suspiciously. "So… this 'guy' you know…," I raised an eyebrow as we walked to the front of the property.

"Three guesses where to find him," he smirked.

"Shipwreck Sally's?" I guessed.

"Got it in one," he smiled wider. He tossed a helmet at me when we reached his bike. I climbed on behind him and we sped off towards the docks.

When we reached the bar, Flynn jerked his head towards a guy in the corner nursing a drink. "That's my guy," he tried to keep a straight face.

"Why doesn't this surprise me?" I let out a small chuckle.

We approached Nikolai's table. His eyes flickered up at us, looking alarmed. "I can see you did not heed my warning," he scowled, looking at our torn clothing.

I hadn't even thought about how bad we looked. We had ash on our faces and in our hair, one of Flynn's pant legs was torn, and Ms. Harlenay's red slacks had a new hole in the knee. "Oh, we were just in an… accident," I was going to say explosion, but I figured that part was obvious.

He nodded. "Da. I have heard all about this… 'accident'. Bryce Sterling blown up at the gala into many smithereens," he… described… very vividly. "Koshmar."

"So you know what we-," Flynn started, but Nikolai held up his giant hand, cutting him off.

"First, we drink," he gestured for us to sit then called the waitress over. We took our spots next to him. "Please, something for my friends. You will put it on my tab."

The young girl smiled. "Sure, what'll it be?" It took me a second to get my thoughts in order. She… she looked like a younger Kate.

"I'll have a beer. Whatever's on tap," Flynn ordered.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. "Vodka, straight," I'd had a series of long days and a beer and some wine wasn't going to cut it anymore.

Nikolai smiled. "You are trying to get on my good side, perhaps?" Then he stared down at me. "This is a stereotype, you know. That all Russians love vodka?"

I gasped. Shit… I did a thing. "No, I just… I needed something strong, is all," I tried to explain, not even thinking about how bad that just looked.

He laughed loudly. "I make tease. It is true that I love vodka, and many other drinks as well."

"Coming right up!" the waitress grinned before going to make the drinks.

Nikolai cleared his throat. "So," he looked down at Flynn.

"So," Flynn said back up to him.

"So?" I joined in, wondering who was going to talk first.

Nikolai cracked his knuckles loudly then jabbed his meaty finger to Flynn's chest, pushing him back a bit. I sat up a bit, nervous, but there wasn't anything I could do to stop him. "You did not listen to me. I told you to stay away from the Sterlings," he poked him as he spoke. "And I do not believe you were at the gala for the shrimps cocktail."

Flynn frowned. "They're blaming my sister for Tanner's murder. I need to clear her name," he said honestly. I put my hand on his shoulder.

The big man put his finger down with a sigh. "Yes, yes. I understand why you disobeyed now. To think of such a flower, wilting away in jail… it is terrible." The waitress slid us our drinks and he raised his glass. "To Katerina," he said.

Flynn and I raised our drinks, too. "To Katerina," we both said before taking long sips of our respected beverages.

Flynn cleared his throat. "You're probably not going to like this, but we need your help," he looked up at Nikolai.

"I'm listening," he said. Flynn motioned for me to show him, so I pulled the scrap of firework out of my pocket and handed it to him. "Blyat…," he spat. "Why do you bring me this?"

"We need to know if it's been tampered with," I told him, not caring about his past, though I was a bit curious.

"From what I hear, you know your way around an explosive," Flynn gave him a sideways glance.

Nikolai took it from Flynn and held it up to the light, turning it around to see the angles. "I… cannot be sure… Perhaps. It looks… off. I must take this to my workshop. Take it apart. Find your proof," his thick brow furrowed. "If this is what I think it is, things are very bad, indeed. We may all be in danger."

"I knew it," Flynn stared angrily down at his beer.

"You can hold onto it for now," I said.

"I was not asking for permission," Nikolai looked down at me through the corner of his eye. I sipped at my vodka, not wanting to say anything else. He placed the scrap into his bag and threw a fifty on the counter, standing to leave. "We are in the shark-filled waters," he spoke cryptically. "If you know what's good for you, stay out of sight, and out of more trouble," he warned before exiting the bar.

I looked at Flynn after a long pause. "So… what now? We just wait? Drink another round?" I suggested the last bit, looking down at my drink, which was now half empty.

"Actually," he stared at his beer. "I was gonna head back to my place. Would you… maybe… wanna join?" he looked up at me, hope in his eyes. "The stars from my rooftop are pretty incredible," he smiled suggestively.

I smirked. "I thought you'd never ask." We finished our drinks and headed out. We started down the docks, bumping shoulders as we walked. He still had a bit of a limp, but he was looking better. I stared at his hair for a while before running my hand through it, trying to shake some of the ash out of it. He swatted me away playfully. "You look like a mess," I joked.

"I'd say the same, but you always seem to look good," he smirked. I blushed, looking away. It was one of the first times I didn't have a comeback. "We can clean up when we get in," he stopped and gestured to his left.

"Wait, you live on a houseboat?" I asked, a bit shocked, but not as surprised as I probably should have been. It made sense when I thought about it.

"I thought I told you that," he looked back at me.

I shook my head. "Pretty sure I would have remembered a detail like that."

"What, do you have something against houseboats?" he looked too serious. I had to fix it.

I nodded. "I'm a member of Citizens Against Houseboats, actually. We're small but growing. Soon, your time will come," I smirked.

He laughed. "I'll watch my back," he jumped onto his boat and extended a hand to help me onboard. He opened the main door and waved his hand with a flourish. "Welcome to my castle…"

"You've got one hell of a moat," I joked. He turned on the lights, allowing me to snoop around a bit. There was a small couch with a hide-a-bed, a kitchenette with barstools, and a small coffee table. It was a bachelor pad if I'd ever seen one. "It's like a tiny house but on the water!" I beamed.

"That's… a way to put it," he looked a bit offended.

I laughed. "It's a compliment, really. Tiny-houses are all the rage right now." I looked around again. "Besides, I live in New York. This is the Taj Mahal compared to my studio apartment."

"You know," he took a step closer to me, looking down at the ground before meeting my eyes, "I meant what I said about looking at the stars from the rooftop," he bit the inside of his lip discreetly, but I noticed.

"I assumed that was one of those 'want to watch a movie?' excuses to get me over here," I smirked.

He looked bashful. "I mean, yeah, it was, but it really is a hell of a show," his hand lightly touched mine.

I laced my fingers with his, pulling our hands up to look at them. "That sounds amazing," I smiled, "but we should probably clean up first." Our hands were speckled with dust and ash from god knows what.

He nodded. "Yeah, the bathroom's over here," he led me to the small washroom, our hands still joined.

While he was getting changed and I was rinsing my face and hair, I said, "I need to ask you something." I saw his head turn to me through the crack in the door. "How did you know Nikolai was the go-to guy for explosives?" I looked up at myself in the mirror. My face, neck, and hands were clean now, but the blazer I'd draped over the side of the shower was filthy. I'd rolled up the sleeves to the white shirt, but that was the best I was going to do as far as clothes.

"You… you don't want to hear about that," he mumbled, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I leaned against the doorway. "I won't judge you, Flynn," I said, dabbing at my wet hair with a hand towel. "Seriously, I promise."

He sighed as he opened the door all the way. He'd changed into his usual T and jeans. I thought he looked good in a suit, but this was his best look. "When I got out of prison, I worked some odd jobs. Nothing illegal, but… well, they weren't exactly legal, either," he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "I drove some shipments down the coast. Didn't know what they were, and I didn't ask. Once, I made a delivery to these Russian guys near New York. Real sketchy dudes. One of them, Mikhail, was chatty. When he found out I lived in Bridgeport, he started asking about Nikolai, specifically if he was still 'blowing things up and burning things down'," he did air quotes.

"He just slipped that into the conversation?" I asked, laying the towel across the back of my neck.

He frowned. "Like I said, this job wasn't exactly on the up-and-up. He probably thought we were all on the same team," he shrugged and looked at the floor, looking pretty embarrassed about the whole thing.

I had to ask. "Do you still do… odd jobs?"

He sucked his teeth. "Hell no. I'm not taking that risk anymore," he frowned again. "But… I can't promise you I'll ever do things by the book."

"If that's supposed to scare me, you're in for a real shock," I caught his eye. "Let me remind you that ya boi, Tanner, just stole some forensic evidence today," I joked.

"We definitely know how to keep things interesting," he finally smiled, making my heart skip. That's different. "Speaking of which," he stood up straight, "you ready to see some stars? I know it sounds pretty tame, but they'll blow your mind."

I chuckled. "Gee, I sure hope I can handle it."

He walked passed me back into the living room kitchen area. He snagged a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the cabinet. "You take these. I'll grab the blanket," he handed them to me.

"While you're at it," I smirked, "why don't you grab that guitar, too?"

"Dammit…," he mumbled. "I was kinda hoping you wouldn't notice that," he said as he opened a cabinet closer to the couch.

I chuckled. "Like I wouldn't. You play, don't you?" I teased, knowing he wasn't the type to keep a guitar to look cool.

"Not for people, no. It's just… something I do to pass the time," he said, turning back to me, blanket in hand.

"I don't suppose you'd care to 'pass the time' with me, would you?" I gave him a sly grin.

He shook his head, a blush running up his cheeks as he smiled. "Fine, but only 'cause you're so damn cute when you ask," he said, grabbing the guitar from against the wall by the neck. "That should be everything. This way," he led me out the door we'd come in and up the ladder beside it on the deck. He spread the blanket out and sat down, patting the ground next to him for me to join him. "Drink?" he asked, bottle in hand.

"Always," I snickered, sitting next to him as he poured two glasses. I took a sip, feeling the warmth of it run down my throat.

"There's the Big Dipper," he pointed up at the stars as they twinkled above us. "Orion's belt," he pointed to another group of stars, lying back on the blanket.

I laughed, lying beside him, our arms grazing each other. "I know the constellations, Flynn," I teased.

"Good, because I only know those two," he smirked.

Just to show him up, I pointed to another one. "Summer triangle," I said.

"Nerd," he rolled his eyes. I nudged him with my elbow in response. He laughed and leaned up on his arm to look down at me.

"So… how'd you end up living on a boat?" I asked, adoring the look on his face.

"Remember when I told you about loving the docks as a kid?" I nodded. "It was my favorite place on earth," he looked down at his hands, "especially when my parents were fighting, which was always. One of the dockworkers, this old guy, Hanley Smalls, kind of took an interest. Taught me how to fish, how to play poker…" he trailed off.

I leaned up on my elbows. "And he gave you a houseboat?"

He frowned again. "Hanley racked up some serious debts. It wasn't his fault. The fishing industry was really struggling, and small operators got hit hard," he explained. "Bridgeport's tiny, so everyone knew who held his loan. Guy's office is right here at the fishing terminal. That guy was a total asshole. No sympathy whatsoever. He was planning to repossess Hanley's houseboat," he got a bit irritated at the thought and started picking at his thumb. "Luckily, he had some problems of his own. Couldn't resist a good game of poker. The higher the stakes, the better."

"So you got him to stake the houseboat," I filled in, impressed.

He nodded. "Eventually, yeah. At first I let him win, so he'd get over confident, then slowly let him keep upping the stakes until we were playing for the boat."

I laughed. "You hustled him. I'm so proud."

He beamed down at me. "Hell yes, I did. Guy deserved it after what he did to Hanley. Long story short, I won back the boat, and when the old guy died, he left it to me."

"Please tell me you'll let me write that story someday," I asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"Sure," he laughed. "Just as soon as you beat me in a game of poker."

"Challenge accepted," I chuckled, sitting up. I grabbed the guitar, holding it in my lap. "So, are you going to play this thing for me, or just let it get weathered by the sea breeze?"

He sighed heavily, sitting up and sliding it from my lap to his. Once he was settled and got his nerves under control, he began to strum.

I grinned from ear to ear, recognizing it immediately. "I love this song!"

"Really? You know this one?" he asked, a bit shocked.

"I had a country phase," I joked, swaying as he played.

"You're full of surprises, Tanner," he played more confidently. I started humming along, eventually letting words come out. Soon, we were both singing and having a great time. His voice was raspy, but that only made the sound richer. He laughed. "Damn, you're pretty good. Maybe we should start a band," he joked.

I chortled, rocking into his shoulder. "A crime-solving folk duo? We'd have to travel the country in an old Winnebago and solve mysteries," I couldn't stop laughing.

"I'm game if you are," he smiled, locking eyes with me when I finally settled down a bit.

I could have stared at him forever, but a streak through the sky behind him caught my attention. "A shooting star!" I pointed, feeling like a little kid. It'd been a long time since I'd felt this happy to be anywhere.

"They're good luck, you know," he smirked.

I rolled my eyes. "You sound like my mother. She's superstitious as all get out. Ladybugs, stars, pennies, that sort of thing."

He put the guitar down and turned to me. "There's nothing wrong with that," he leaned in close to me, wiping at my cheek with his thumb. I'd been laughing and smiling so hard that my eye had started to water. His lips were mere inches from mine. I went for it, pushing myself into him. He wrapped his arms around me as I practically straddled his lap, grabbing his shirt. "Tanner," he whispered into my lips before kissing along my jaw to my ear. I shivered. "I've never felt like this about anyone before," he whispered huskily. Before I could respond, his hand was untucking my shirt while he added, "I want you so bad, right now."

I wanted to, lord did I want to, but I was nervous. I looked around for any stray eyes.

"There's no-one out here tonight, but us," he said, when he noticed my hesitation.

I gave in, kissing him one more time before tugging at his shirt, unable to use my words. I really felt like a kid… He pulled his shirt off and I finally got to see where all that tattoo went. I kissed at his shoulder, tracing the Celtic symbols with my fingertips down his arm. "You're absolutely gorgeous, you know that?" I said, sitting back up to take his image in. From his sea blue gaze to his abs, this boy was perfect, like the David. He grinned slyly at me and began unbuttoning my shirt, but my nerves suddenly kicked in. "Wait," I grabbed his hand.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking up at me as I frowned.

"Not the shirt," I said, looking away. I still had a nasty looking bruise and I didn't want him to see it. I figured if it stayed covered, he wouldn't make a big deal out of it, since he hadn't seen it before.

He slid his hand gently to my side and kissed my rib through my shirt. "You don't have to hide it," he looked up at me.

"Yeah, but," I bit my lip nervously. He finished unbuttoning my shirt and slid it off my shoulders, leaving just my undershirt to cover it, but you could still see the darker spots.

"If you don't want to, I get it," he said, kissing my hand.

I struggled with my thoughts. "I want to, I do," I started, but bit my lip again. I convinced myself. "Just… don't let it stop you," I said, kissing him deeply on the lips before removing my shirt.

His fingers traced the bruise for a second, making me wince a little near the bottom of my ribcage. "This is way too good. How could I stop?" he beamed up at me, pulling me in for another kiss. I pushed him down onto his back and leaned over him. His hand slid down my back and to the edge of my pants, which didn't seem to stop him. He squeezed my cheek, pulling my hips into his.

It wasn't long until our pants were scattered across the deck. I was on my back and he was kissing his way down my torso to my hips. "Flynn," I moaned his name, inadvertently arching up to meet his touch. My hand threaded through his dark curls as he kissed my thighs. His lips felt so good, that anything else that could have or should have been on my mind disappeared. I felt a bit dizzy. "Flynn, you're amazing," I said breathlessly as he worked his way back up.

"We're just getting started," he grinned devilishly. I'd never wanted someone so much.

"I'm all yours," I offered, pulling him into a deep, tongue tangling kiss. His hips bucked against mine, rocking us with the waves. After a little while, I noticed a look in his eye I'd seen before. His stubbornness was showing. His shoulder was hurting. I pulled him close and flipped us over, so I was on top, straddling his hips.

"Oh?" he grinned, running his hands along my outer thighs. I leaned back into him, wiggling my hips. His mouth was greedy and kept attacking my neck and ears. I gripped the blanket below us tightly as pure ecstasy washed over me. He was so warm, and everywhere our bodies touched tingled with pleasure. I was totally lost in him.

A while… a long while later, we laid still, his arm around me as I leaned on his chest, listening to his rapid pulse. It wasn't long after that when we both drifted off.