She made the trip without bumping into another soul until she pushed open the door to the market and walked inside. The shop had well-stocked shelves, a respectable collection of fresh fruits and vegetables, and best of all, a very fresh seafood counter in the back.

Dar headed for it, then examined the choices laid out on ice in the cold case.

“Well, hello there, young lady.”

The cheerful voice almost made her jump. Dar looked up to see the owner standing behind the fish case, wiping his hands on a Terrors of the High Seas 11

towel. “Evening.”

“Got some great looking crabs today.”

Dar’s eyes twinkled. “Not today, thanks. Gimme a pound of the shrimp and two of the tails.” She watched contentedly as the man wrapped up the chilled, already cooked seafood. “Thanks.” She accepted the package and went toward the dairy case, not really paying attention when the market door opened.

“Hey, mister.”

Aware that the salutation didn’t include her, Dar studied her choices in milk, cocking half an ear behind her mostly because the rough voice that had spoken had set off her trouble sonar.

“What can I do for you?” the market owner replied.

“Got any shotgun shells?”

After a moment’s pause, the owner chuckled. “Son, this is a grocery, not a Sportsman’s Paradise,” he said. “We don’t sell no guns here.”

“Aw, man, you mean I gotta go up to the Wal-Mart? That sucks!

Why don’t you get them stuff here? You got all kinds of other crap!”

“Well, you gotta get a license, for one thing—”

“So? Go get one!” The voice was getting belligerent. “You’re supposed to get what people need, right?”

Dar set her package down and replaced the sugar she’d been considering; then she circled the row of canned goods and examined the noisy newcomer. It was, as she’d suspected, a boy in his late teens, dressed in an NRA T-shirt and jeans with patches consisting of Confederate flags. “Oh, look,” Dar muttered under her breath. “Walking stereotype. Wonder where his pickup’s parked.”

“So get off yer ass and get us some service here!” the boy demanded.

“Now, look, son—”

“Don’t you call me that, you old jackass!”

Dar walked over. “Excuse me.”

The boy turned, irritation switching to lechery in the blink of a hormone as his eyes took in Dar’s suntanned, mostly exposed body.

“Hey, baby! What c’n I do for ya?”

Detecting fermented malt, Dar’s nose twitched. “Stop breathing.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

Dar abandoned that tack. “You go to the hardware store for bread?”

“Naw.”

“So why come here for gun supplies?”

The boy didn’t seem to mind the questions, his eyes busy taking in Dar’s athletic form. “’Cause it’s closer’n hauling my ass 12 Melissa Good up the road to the Wal-Mart.” He grinned suddenly. “You wanna ride in my truck?”

“No,” Dar replied. “What are you shooting?”

“Huh?”

“You’re buying shotgun shells.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you going to shoot them at?”

“Signs,” the boy replied amiably. “Or them little deers, or whatever.”

Dar frowned. “For what?”

“Fer fun,” the boy said. “You wanna come? I got me a box of shells. Just wanted some more in case I find me some ’gators or something. You up fer some fun, baby?”

Dar stared at him for a moment, then felt the wash of adrenaline and anger sweep through her. “Sure.” She grinned. “I love fun.” She moved in a blur, drawing her right hand back and cocking it, then letting loose and cracking the now really smirking boy across the chops. He spun away from her and fell over a stack of beer cases, slamming his head against the doorpost.

“That was fun.” Dar stalked after him intently. “C’mere, you brainless little punk.” She grabbed him and yanked him to his feet, shoving him against the wall. “You think hurting animals is funny?

I think this is funny.” She nailed him in the groin with her knee, then tossed him against the door.

“Hey! Hey!” The boy scrambled to his feet. “Ow! Son of a bitch!

Ow!” He bolted for the door, a trail of blood from his nose left behind him, and got through it an instant before Dar could latch onto him. He raced for the pickup parked outside and jumped in, started the engine, and roared off while Dar glared at him from the doorway.

She waited for the taillights to disappear around the first bend, then stepped back inside the store and dusted off her hands, shaking her head in disgust. “Another fine example of why stupid humans shouldn’t breed.”

The grocer was laughing as Dar walked back over. “Ma’am, I think you made an impression on that kid.”

Dar retrieved her package and her sugar, then added a few other things before she plunked it all down on the counter and dug out her wallet. “You get much of that here?”

“Not a lot.” The owner rang up her purchases. “You new in the area…” He glanced at the credit card Dar handed him. “Ms.

Roberts? Thought I’d seen you around once or twice.”

Dar leaned against the counter. “Not exactly,” she allowed. “I grew up on the Navy base, but I’ve been living up in Miami for a while. Bought the old Potter place last year.”

He looked up at her, honestly surprised. “You did?” His Terrors of the High Seas 13

interest was kindled. “Now, I was hearing some big-shot computer executive bought that place.”

Dar tipped her sunglasses down and cool blue eyes regarded him with some amusement. “That would be me.”

The man gaped a moment, then burst into laughter. “Well, kick mah ass,” he managed to get out. “You sure don’t look like a Bill Gates, now do you?”

Lucky me. Dar grinned in wry acknowledgment. Lucky Kerry, too.

“Been talking about all the work going on up there. You pretty much just built the whole thing all over again, didn’t cha?”

“Pretty much,” Dar agreed, signing the slip for her groceries.

“Just getting the last stuff done.”

“Well, then,” the man took the slip and tucked it into the drawer, then held out a hand, “welcome to the neighborhood, Ms.

Roberts. Hope to see more of ya.”

Dar returned the clasp. “Careful what you ask for,” she drawled, giving him a wry wink before she picked up her bag and sauntered out, content with her brief entrance on the sleepy town’s unsuspecting stage.

AFTER DAR LEFT, Kerry spent a few moments wandering around the cabin. She walked over to the wall and laid her hands flat on its surface, basking in a sense of ownership she found almost intoxicating.

Ours.

Kerry turned and leaned against the wall, letting her eyes roam around the room. When she had put her name on the title next to Dar’s, this cabin had become the very first real thing she could call her own, and she felt very differently about it than she did about the condo.

She turned and peeked into the kitchen, at the sleek, well-fitted appliances she’d picked herself, and the pretty marble countertop that provided a place to sit and have breakfast. It was cute and cozy.

Kerry smiled as she walked over to the bedroom, rubbing her fingers against the wooden doorjamb as she entered. It was her favorite room in the cabin, and not just because of the obvious. She knelt and started the small motor that would inflate the Aerobed, then walked over and inspected the bathroom, approving the neat work around the sunken spa tub. One corner of the space was a glassed-in shower, the other was the tub, and between lay a large vanity flanked by not one, but two toilets.

Kerry liked that. She and Dar had pondered over the notion for quite a while before they’d decided to have it done. The vanity had 14 Melissa Good a three-quarter mirror around it, providing just enough privacy.

She opened the cabinet, idly looking at the few supplies they’d left there.

This would be only the third night they’d spent at the cabin, and she found herself looking forward to the time when all the furniture would be there, and the place gained a sense of…home.

She left the bed to inflate and walked back to their dual offices, now just empty spaces waiting for the delivery of the custom-made desks they’d ordered. Both rooms had big windows and skylights.

Once the furniture was in, they could plug into the company network as easily as if they were at the condo. Or at the office. She was looking forward to spending more time there.

The pump cut off and she returned to the bedroom, picked up the sheet set, and shook it out over the queen-size, double-height air mattress. She tucked in the fabric, then unfolded the comforter she’d brought with her from Michigan and settled it over the bed, tossing their pillows up to the head of the bed when she finished.

Kerry walked back into the living room and retrieved the overnight bag they’d brought in from the boat. She zipped it open, smiling as familiar scents were released from the clothing and other sundries inside. Two towels were on top. She removed them and put them in the bathroom, then took out the shirts they both liked to wear before bed.

It had taken her a little while to get used to sleeping in the nude, but once she had, she’d become almost addicted to the primal comfort of snuggling under the covers with Dar, and she found she slept like an absolute rock once she’d tucked herself around her partner’s body.

Her ears perked up as she heard the back door to the cabin open, and Dar’s rhythmic footsteps approached.

“Ker?”

“In here,” Kerry replied, turning as a dark head poked into the bedroom. “Just getting stuff out.”

Dar held up a brown paper wrapped package invitingly.

“Dinner?”

Kerry held up her shirt. “Shower first?”

One of Dar’s eyebrows quirked. “I’ll stick this in the fridge,”

she remarked with a knowing smirk before disappearing in the direction of the kitchen.

Kerry chuckled softly to herself. “Heh.” She dropped the shirts onto the bed and eased her light cotton blouse off her shoulders, wincing slightly at the sting of a mild sunburn. “Ouch.”

“Uh huh.” Dar had returned, bearing a small blue jar. “Figured we both could use this.” She held up the cold cream. “With aloe.”

“You rock.” Kerry held out a hand and led Dar to the bathroom, opened the shower door, and reached in to start the Terrors of the High Seas 15

water running. The first time they’d stayed in the cabin, the electricity hadn’t even been on, and after bravely bearing the oppressive heat inside the half-finished building, they finally admitted defeat and curled up together out on the beach, hoping against hope they’d escape both crabs and foul weather.

They had, but Kerry had found tiny, suspicious red marks on her neck that had worried her a lot until Dar rather sheepishly admitted to having made them with some overenthusiastic nibbling.

Ah, love. Kerry turned to see Dar with her disintegrating shorts unbuttoned and her tank top half over her head. She reached over and tickled her belly button, watching Dar’s abdominals contract as she chuckled in reaction. Blue eyes emerged a moment later as Dar got her shirt off, and shook a finger at Kerry in mock remonstrance.

Kerry relented as she pulled off her own shirt, feeling a light tickle as Dar unhooked her bra. They finished getting undressed and squeezed into the shower together. “Ooo,” Kerry hissed as her sunburned skin protested the pressure of the hot water. A moment later, the pressure ceased as Dar stepped between her and the spray.

“Hang on.” Dar adjusted the water to a little cooler temperature and less force. “There.” She dropped her arms around Kerry and pulled her closer, rubbing her back gently. “Better?”

“Much.” Kerry nuzzled between Dar’s breasts. “That wreck today was awesome. The visibility was incredible.”

“Yeah.” Dar squeezed out some coconut body wash and started rubbing it over Kerry’s skin. “Did you get a shot of that sand shark?”

“The one that was fascinated by your flippers? You bet.” Kerry lathered up a handful of soap and started washing Dar. “For a minute there, I thought it was going to start munching on you.”

Dar squirted some shampoo on her partner’s damp head and worked it in with her fingers, massaging Kerry’s scalp as she got the salt water and sand out of it. “I did too,” she confessed. “Did you see me grab my knife?”

Kerry was busy scrubbing Dar’s thigh. “Yep. That was the best picture. That wreck in the background, all that white sand in front of it, and you and the shark facing off. Perfect.”