Читать книгу Out Of The Blue - Jill Shalvis - Страница 8

ZACHARY THOMAS PLANNED to spend the entire next week in a prone position. Either on the sand with the warm sun over his face, in a hammock with the warm breeze brushing his limbs, or in a bed with a warm body beside him, it didn’t matter.

Better yet, give him all of the above.

But he had to get there first, to Avila, before the exhaustion claimed him.

Ten years ago he’d left that town as the wild rebel. Today he was going home, still a rebel at heart, but now he was a cop as well.

He’d never thought it would happen, but after so long, he was really going back.

Home.

More figuratively than literally, since his childhood house no longer belonged in the family. It’d been sold long ago, his elderly parents having retired to Arizona. But in his mind, the popular beach town of Avila would always be the place to come home to. The place of sun and surf, fun and laughter.

God, he was exhausted, his body aching, and in the tight confines of his Jeep he stretched his travel-weary limbs the best he could. Every inch of him protested the four-hour drive north.

No doubt, working undercover all year, tracking a drug ring in the armpits of Los Angeles, had been tough on his body.

So had getting shot.

But thankfully he was healing, more and more every day, and the case was over. Bad guys in jail, lawyers’ pockets full, and his Chief one very happy man.

Off to his left, the Pacific Ocean sparkled a deep jade as the sun touched the horizon. With all the windows down, he could smell the salt air, could almost hear each individual wave as it hit the shore.

Home, he thought again with a rueful smile. Once upon a time, he hadn’t been able to get out of the small, sleepy town fast enough. There hadn’t been enough excitement and thrills to be had, but for now, while he was healing, slow and lazy was exactly the speed he craved.

Maybe after he’d slept for a few days he’d test his still-sore side and go surfing, something he hadn’t done in years.

One thing he didn’t have to do was work, not for one more week, when his leave time would be up. He’d already had nearly two months off, but he could drag it out even longer if he needed; everyone would understand. Being shot took a lot out of a cop.

But Zach loved his work, and wanted to get back to it. It was his life. His only life, he admitted ruefully, given the hours and energy he put into it. Besides, the wild, hustling, packed L.A. still gave him a rush.

At the moment though, even his bones hurt, and he had to wonder if he’d really be ready to go back so soon. A ruptured liver and two shattered ribs were harder to get over than he’d even imagined.

Maybe he was just tired. In fact, his eyes were so gritty he could hardly see, and just concentrating on driving was almost more than he could handle. All he wanted right now was a good meal and a bed.

Actually, skip the food, he’d head straight for the sheets, with or without the warm female body.

The Norfolk Woods Inn sign finally came into view, just seconds before the quaint, character-ridden old lodge did. At the sight, a burst of pride went through Zach for what his baby sister and her friends had created. The log cabin itself was beautiful, warm and inviting and cozy—the very thing he’d run from so many years ago.

Alexi. He missed her. They visited too infrequently, and only when she made the trip to Los Angeles around his work schedule. It’d be good to see her. She’d give him a room and let him sleep around the clock, the entire week if he felt like it. He could contemplate the cosmos, catch up on television.

Hell, he could watch the grass grow.

After the life he’d led for the past year, it sounded decadent. Slow. Leisurely. That it was the opposite of everything he’d ever wanted didn’t escape him, but for now it was perfect.

As he pulled up, half dead on his feet, he realized that things were not going to go quite as planned.

The No Vacancy sign was lit.