Meant to Be (2 page)

Read Meant to Be Online

Authors: Jessica James

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #inspirational, #beach read, #love at first sight, #war story, #military romance, #military love story, #best romance, #spies and espionage

When she felt a shadow pass
over her, Lauren instinctively tensed as if sensing someone was
near. But before she opened her eyes, she remembered where
was.
Relax. It’s just a cloud blocking the
sun.


Are you okay?”

Realizing her first instinct had been
correct, Lauren jerked her head up and squinted.

The owner of the voice stood directly
beside the rising sun, making it difficult to see. After blinking a
moment at the brightness, she recognized the jogger who had
retrieved her hat.


Sorry,” he said. “Just
checking to make sure you’re okay.”

Lauren stared into his mesmerizing
eyes as she tried to calm her pounding heart. She couldn’t believe
she had let her guard down like that. There was no excuse for being
careless, even on a quiet beach.


I’m… just thinking. You
know… about … stuff.” She groaned inwardly at her inability to make
a sensible statement or even put a cohesive sentence
together.

The man, apparently on his way back
from his jog, sprawled out on the sand beside her, still breathing
heavily. “Oh, well, it gives me a reason to take a breather
anyway.”

A little startled by his boldness,
Lauren glanced over at him and decided he was probably in his
mid-30s—slightly older than she.


You find something worth
keeping this morning?”

Lauren cocked her head, unsure of his
meaning as she dug her sunglasses out of her sweatshirt pocket so
she could stop squinting.


In the water.” He nodded
toward the shoreline. “Before you lost your hat.”


Oh, yeah.” She patted the
pocket. “A nice shell. Got it right here.”

She didn’t elaborate. Her mind was
racing. So much for her situational awareness skills—being
cognizant of one’s surroundings at all times. Not only had she let
down her guard in a big way, but she was sitting beside someone who
apparently had not. He’d been aware of what she was doing on the
beach before she even knew he existed.

A flicker of apprehension coursed
through her, but the reason was more complex, or at least more
confusing, than this stranger’s attentiveness to his
surroundings—and her lack of it. Lauren could not understand why
her heart throbbed with so much force she could feel it in her
throat, a circumstance she found both ridiculous and
frightening—and therefore bewildering. Conversing with complete
strangers as part of her job, even heads of state and military
officers, had never been a problem. Yet making small talk with an
incredibly attractive man on a social level was suddenly beyond her
control.

The jogger didn’t seem to notice—or
care—about her discomfort. “You come here a lot?” He tilted his
head and stared at her, waiting for a response.

Lauren shrugged to show
outward calm, but the trickle of trepidation creeping up her spine
began turning into a wave of anxiety.
Is
this guy trying to make polite conversation or pick me up?
She was so unaccustomed to being in a civilized
society, she didn’t know if she should be thrilled or scared to
death.


Sometimes,” is all she
said.

The man smiled and held out his hand,
ignoring her intentionally vague statement. “My friends call me
Rad.”

Lauren stared at the hand, then into
his gray eyes—now more blue—and finally extended her hand.
“Lauren.”

Trying not to appear
startled at the strength of his grip, Lauren studied him a moment
once he’d released her hand. His smile appeared playful, yet she
had the feeling he didn’t really use it that often. He seemed like
a very serious guy, trying to act casual. Her usually—suspicious
nature began to ramp up as she continued to analyze him. This just
didn’t make sense. Why would such a good-looking guy be paying
attention to
her
?

For a moment they both sat silently,
engrossed in watching a sailboat float across the water toward the
orange fan of color created by the sun. Once the craft had glided
over the glassy-hued reflection and returned to the dark mass of
water beside it, Rad picked up the conversation again.


Now that we’re no longer
strangers, maybe you can tell me how long you’re staying.” He
leaned back on his elbows and crossed his legs as if chatting with
an old friend.

Lauren’s heart thumped again. “I leave
tomorrow morning. Just came for some quick R&R.”

He sat back up and put his arms over
his knees, sighing heavily. “Yeah, me too, actually.”

Lauren felt a sense of relief, swiftly
followed by a wave of disappointment. The dueling sentiments
surprised her, but she didn’t have time to question
them.


Since time is so short,
maybe we can get together later this morning… you know, for coffee
or something.” He did not say the words tentatively as if testing
the idea, but rather seemed to imply that such an arrangement was
the only possible remedy to their predicament.

Flattered by the invitation, but still
leery of his intent, Lauren almost laughed out loud. Good looking
as he was, she had no intention of having a one-night-stand with
the man—or ever seeing him again for that matter. She had
responsibilities—big ones—and a job that pretty much prevented her
from even considering the idea. Tomorrow she would be on a plane to
the other side of the world, with no plans for returning to the
United States in the near future. What would be the point of
getting involved with someone?

Anyway, she worked with enough Alpha
males and egotistical supervisors to have a good bit of
mistrust—and maybe even a little disdain—for the entire species.
Relationships made her uneasy, even short ones that might come with
no strings attached.

Without thinking, Lauren’s
attention shifted down to his left hand where there was no sign of
a ring.
Seriously, how could this guy not
be married?
She came to the only logical
conclusion she could think of. He didn’t like relationships
either—and picked up a new girl on the beach every morning during
his jog.

Lauren tried to act casual when she
finally answered, but his cool stare when she lifted her gaze
unnerved her. “N-n-o,” she stuttered. “Sorry. I have plans.” She
tilted her head down to look at him over the top of her sun glasses
and felt like he had read every thought with his searching
eyes.


You’re not a very
trusting person, are you?”


Should I be?”

He stood and brushed off his
sweatpants. “I guess not. You’ll probably live longer that
way.”

He bent down and shook her hand again.
“Nice to meet you, Lauren. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Lauren nodded and watched
him jog away. She put her head back down into her knees and
chastised herself.
What are you afraid of,
Lauren? Maybe he was just trying to be nice. Not everyone is the
enemy for heaven’s sake.

When she raised her head,
she almost expected him to be standing beside her again and was
disappointed when he was not. She lay back and stared at the sky,
forcing herself to think of something else. But try as she might to
delete the last hour from her mind, her thoughts kept drifting back
to
him
.

He was a tall man. She liked that.
Physically imposing, strong, masculine. She liked that too—almost
as much as the way he grinned from one side of his mouth and the
way his eyes seemed to sparkle. In fact, if she had a list of
things she wanted in a man, she could pretty much look at that guy
named Rad and check them off.

Lauren sat back up, put her chin on
her knees, and stared out at the water. But she didn’t have a “man
list.” She didn’t have time for things like that. Not with where
she was going and what she would be doing.

She laughed to herself. What did it
matter, anyway? He was gone now. She turned her head and scanned
the empty beach. Yep. Definitely gone. And once the beach got
crowded, there was no way she’d run into him again. In another hour
or two every vacant foot of the beach would be filled with
umbrellas, chairs, blankets, and people.

Lauren stood and dusted the sand off
her pants, her mind preoccupied with a single regret. If things
were different, she would have acted differently. She wished she
could have told him that.

Chapter
2

Lauren grabbed a bagel and
another cup of coffee from a small shop on the Boardwalk and headed
back to her room. When she was almost there, she stopped a moment
and stared at some Ocean City trinkets on display outside a
shop.
Oh, why not?
After making a couple of purchases, she continued to the
hotel.

The sun was up in all its blazing
glory now, so sweat pants and a heavy sweatshirt were no longer
necessary. After throwing on a pair of cutoff shorts and a
sleeveless tee shirt, she turned on the news for some background
noise, sat down on the couch, and ate her bagel.

Thumbing absently through a
visitor’s guide of the beach, Lauren noticed a full page ad that
blared in huge letters:
Where Truth is
Always Stranger than Fiction
. She smiled as
she gazed at the images from the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Museum.
She’d never made it there, despite all the times she’d visited
here. It looked like fun, although seeing two-headed animals,
bearded women and shrunken heads, was actually tame compared to
what she encountered every day in her job.


Hot and
sunny today, folks.” A local meteorologist giving the weather
report grabbed Lauren’s attention as she pushed the advertisement
aside and finished her bagel.
Good
. She wasn’t interested in
sunbathing—her olive-colored skin from some Middle Eastern ancestor
gave her the appearance of a tan already—but the warm rays and
smell of coconut oil and French fries would still be
welcomed.

After tidying up her room a bit,
Lauren wandered out to the balcony and sat down. The sun was now
high and people were scattered all over the beach. Propping her
feet up on the banister, she watched families help their children
through the sand and contemplated her own childhood here. She had
no siblings but remembered making plenty of friends while building
castles on the ocean’s edge. Sighing with the memories, she went
back inside and spotted the small bottle she had just purchased. It
reminded her to tackle the most important item on her list of
things to do for the day—paint her toenails.

Pulling over a second chair on the
balcony to prop up her feet, Lauren meticulously applied a coat of
bright polish, and then sat back to view her work. The color wasn’t
exactly what she had in mind, but it was bright and shiny, and it
did the job. By the time she raised her gaze again the beach was a
sea of color and movement with children of all ages running to and
fro between towels, chairs, and umbrellas. After making sure the
polish was dry, she went inside and stuffed some money and other
essentials into her pockets so she wouldn’t have to come back to
the room anytime soon.

Glancing in the mirror as she walked
by made Lauren do a double take. Accustomed to being covered from
head to toe, usually in a drab, nondescript color—her beach outfit
caught her off guard. Exposing this much skin in her future
destination would be cause enough for execution.

She moved closer to the mirror and
assessed the person gazing back at her, trying to ignore the
tired-looking eyes. With her dark hair pulled back in a single,
short braid, and a few loose tendrils accentuating her high cheek
bones, she likened the image to an American Indian rather than the
foreign ancestry that was her true heritage.

In that part of the world,
women weren’t given the opportunities she had been given and were
lucky to receive any education at all. She slid her feet into a
pair of flip-flops and admired her toenails once again.
I wonder what the punishment would be for painted
toenails
? She frowned and grabbed her
sunglasses and ball cap before heading to the door. Funny how this
one little ritual helped keep her sane. She considered herself more
of a tomboy than the
girlie
type, but painted toenails somehow made her feel
more powerful and less irrelevant in a culture where women were
treated as second-class citizens.

Despite the activity on the beach,
Lauren easily found an empty bench on the Boardwalk and propped her
feet on the seawall. In between reading the paper she’d picked up
in the lobby and sipping her coffee, she stared at the ocean,
mesmerized by the gulls running toward the surf and racing out
again. Close as the water came, their timing was always perfect.
They never seemed to get their feet wet.

Hope my timing and
instincts are that good in the next couple of weeks.


Hey,
stranger.”

Lauren looked up to see Rad ambling
toward her from the beach, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a snug
white tee shirt. Clean shaven now, he advanced with a long,
relaxed, deliberate stride that conveyed an underlying potency that
made her heart pitch once again.

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