The Reef

Lassiter.” Marla was already in the kitchen, checking the clam chowder she’d had heating for lunch. “And their shipmate, LaRue. An interesting character, isn’t he, Ray?”
    “You bet.” Ray kept a bright smile on his face. He hadn’t gotten around to mentioning to Marla their daughter’s objection to the renewal of the old partnership. “You’ll get a kick out of him, Tate. I’m just going to put your things in your room.” And escape.
    “Where’s Buck?” Tate asked her mother. Though she’d gone into the kitchen, she kept her eye on the hammock through the window.
    “Oh, he’s around somewhere.” She sampled the chowder, nodded. “He looks so much better than he did the last time we saw him.”
    “Drinking?”
    “No. Not a drop since he’s been here. Sit down, honey. Let me fix you a bowl.”
    “Not just yet.” Tate set her shoulders. “I think I’ll go out and renew acquaintances.”
    “That’s nice. You tell Matthew his lunch is ready.”
    “Right.” She intended to tell him a great deal more than that.
    The sand and springy grass muffled her footsteps. Though she was certain she could have marched up with a brass band and he wouldn’t have stirred. The sunlight slanted over him. Beautifully, she thought, infuriated.
    He was beautiful. No amount of resentment and disdain could deny it. His hair was mussed and obviously hadn’t seen a barber’s care for some time. In sleep his face was relaxed, that gorgeous mouth soft. It was a bit bonier than it had been eight years ago, she supposed, deepening the hollows of his cheeks. And that only added to the instant, sexual punch. His body was trim, muscled, and looked hard as granite with its covering of ripped jeans and faded T-shirt.
    She let herself take a good long look, scrupulously monitoring her own reaction as she would monitor any lab experiment. An initial jump of the pulse, maybe, she judged. But that was only natural when a woman came across a stunning animal.
    She was grateful to report that after that one visceral jolt, she felt nothing but annoyance, resentment and good, old-fashioned anger at finding him napping on her turf.
    “Lassiter, you bastard.”
    He didn’t stir; his chest continued to rise and fall rhythmically. With a grim smile, she planted her feet, took a good hold on the edge of the hammock. Putting her back into it, she heaved.
    Matthew came awake halfway through the roll. He had a quick glimpse of the ground rushing up, threw his hands out instinctively to catch himself. He grunted when he hit, swore when a prickly needle of a thistle jabbed his thumb. Groggy and disoriented, he shook his head. Tossing his hair back, he shifted until he was sitting on the ground.
    The first thing he saw were small, narrow feet encased in practical and well-worn walking boots. Then there were the legs. A lot of them. Long, feminine and wonderfully shaped in snug black leggings. Under different circumstances, he could have passed a great deal of time happily studying them.
    Shifting his gaze a bit higher, he encountered a black shirt, mannish with its tail sweeping hips that were definitely not a man’s. Lovely breasts, high, adding a nice curve to the shirt.
    Then the face.
    The juices the body had stirred went directly to simmer.
    She’d changed, unfairly, he thought. Gorgeously. Mouthwateringly. While she’d been fresh, lovely and sweet at twenty, the woman she’d become was heart-stopping.
    Her skin was ivory, almost transparently pure with just a blush of rose. Her unpainted mouth was full, luscious, and set in a bad-tempered pout that had his own mouth going bone-dry. She’d let her hair grow, and it was swept back now in a no-nonsense ponytail that left that face unframed. Behind her shaded lenses, her eyes were hot with anger.
    Realizing he was on the edge of gawking, Matthew unfolded himself. In defense, he tilted his head and offered a quick, careless smile.
    “Hey, Red. Long time.”
    “What the hell are you doing here, getting my parents tangled up in some ridiculous scheme?”
    In a negligent move, he leaned on a tree. His knees were water. “Nice to see you, too,” he said dryly. “And you’ve got it backwards. Ray’s got the scheme. I’m going along for the ride.”
    “Taking him for a ride more likely.” Disgust fountained up. It wasn’t possible to swallow all of it. “The partnership was dissolved eight years ago, and it’s going to stay that way. I want you to go back to whatever hole