Rogue Wave by Isabel Jolie (reading eggs books txt) 📕

know, I didn’t really pay attention to his personal life. That’s not my thing.”

“No? You’re not the kind of guy to pick up the magazine to find out if maybe this time Jen and Brad really are getting back together?”

He smirked. “No.”

“Not once?”

“Nope. Although, I will say, I was surprised to see that line on the covers of rags, leave for ten years, then return home and see it still pops up. Some things don’t change. Or, well, the Kardashians. I’d say that’s a new one. For me.”

The wheels scrunched over dried leaves as he turned and parked off the road near Alice’s home. He surveyed the area.

“Let’s start with the back of her yard, where it backs up to the marsh.”

“What do you think Cousteau’s biggest contribution was?”

He pointed at the ground where I walked. “Be careful. Look out for sandy mounds. Those fire ants are vicious.”

I stepped gingerly around the leaf strewn area. We both wore flip flops. He might fear ants, but snakes were my bugaboo. Once he was satisfied I’d skirted the ant mound, he answered my question. “The moratorium on whaling. If he hadn’t gotten involved, I’d bet whales might be extinct.”

“Do you think?”

“Yeah, I do. You know he has a son who has been instrumental in fighting long lines.”

“I did know that. I follow him on Twitter. Technology is a double-edged sword when it comes to the ocean. Better freezers, nets that go on for miles, efficient engines that can allow ships to go farther with heavier loads, on the outset, they all sound like good things, until you consider the long-term environmental impact. And the fact that so much of the ocean has no governing body, no one to oversee it.”

“Exactly. Trying to get people to care, it’s hard.”

We stepped up to the tall grass on the water's edge. He held an arm out, blocking me from moving forward. He signaled silence with a single finger over his lips then pointed.

At first, I didn’t see anything. The dark, murky water shone black through the reeds. Then I saw it. Unrestrained, I bounced on my heels. Tate’s arm snapped across my chest, protective.

“An alligator.” I pointed to prove I saw it. “Right there.” Skimming the surface of the water, a dark orb protruded. Only its eyes could be seen, the rest of the gator completely hidden. He’d have to come up to breathe, but they could stay underwater for as long as twenty-four hours.

He reached for my hand. Turned it left ninety degrees and lowered my pointed index finger. Another set of eyes. Then he pointed farther along the shore. A small gator rested in the sun on the shoreline.

“We’ve got to find that cat,” I said. He nodded.

We both carefully inspected the shoreline, searching along every fallen tree, separating clumps of grass, searching for a hiding kitten.

The sun traveled to the west, and the shade in the woods deepened. At one point, Alice brought us out freshly squeezed lemonade. We returned the empty glasses to her house then headed back off into the woods. Alice decided to come out and join in the search as the sun waned. The three of us separated, combing through the woods, searching for a mound of fur.

Sun reflected off a stick, partially covered by coppery pine remnants. Tate crouched up ahead, peering into a hollowed-out tree.

“Did you find him?”

I stepped forward, and the stick moved. I leaped back, screaming like a banshee. In a flash, Tate was at my side.

“Snake!” I shrieked.

He searched the ground while holding me back with his arm, protective.

“Sweet Joseph, that scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Over there. Somewhere.”

“Probably a copperhead.” He pulled me into his side and rubbed my shoulder, calming me down. “It’s getting dark. Harder to see the ground in the woods.”

He didn’t say it, but I recognized the somber tone.

“There you are, you little wild one.” Alice stood, hands on her hips, about fifteen feet away, completely unperturbed by my snake sighting.

“You found him?” I called.

“Here the little troublemaker is.” She scooped down and picked up a fuzz ball.

I stayed close to Tate. Leaves crunched below Alice’s feet as she approached us, holding out a scrawny gray kitten by the hair on his neck.

“Such the brave boy. Do you want yourself a cat?”

“Me? Oh, no. I can’t even keep plants alive.”

“Tate, what about you? You need a kitten, don’t you?”

He shook his head with a grin as he placed pressure on my lower back, forcing me forward, in the opposite direction of the snake, so I obliged.

“Wouldn’t Shelby be sad if you gave away one of her kittens?”

“I suppose so, but I’m currently at about fourteen cats. I could stand to find a few new homes for them.”

“Fourteen?”

“That’s why I keep most of them outside.”

Tate muttered under his breath, “Won’t be fourteen for long.”

After saying goodnight to Alice, Tate drove us to the market, and we picked out dinner, and he drove me back to my place to get some fresh clothes for the night.

He leaned back against the doorframe and watched as I threw together a few things to change into. “Why don’t you pack more? Keep some stuff at my place? You’ve been staying over all the time, anyway.”

“You mean you want to give me a drawer?”

“Don’t go mental. Just pack a few extra things.” The grin plastered across his face made him look young. Happiness looked good on him. He pulled a phone out of his pocket and read the text. He stopped. His jaw flexed. All signs of carefree Tate vanished.

Chapter 19

Tate

“What’re you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet your brother? Who you haven’t seen in years?” Gregg held both arms out to his side, palms splayed open. A defensive stance I knew well.

“Something wrong with the phone? You have the right to stop by and stay without a heads up?”

“I’m not staying here, you ass. I booked a room at the Inn. Heard through the grapevine you’re doing