Page 2 of Sex on the Beach

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Then, when Pop passed, she’d shown up at the will reading, and I hadn’t even known who she was. Both of my older brothers remembered her, but they’d never spoken about her my entire life. No one had. Not even my daddy.

Although, in fairness, since she wasn’t my late mother or alcohol, it tracked that he hadn’t had much to say about her.

I’d thought that the return of a sister I never knew I had would be the shock of the decade. But I was damn wrong. Becoming a millionaire was fucking insane.

I was still trying, and failing, to wrap my head around it. And the truth was, we might never see it. There’d been a clause put in the will stating that we wouldn’t inherit a dime if there was any foul play connected to Mama’s death.

We’d always been told that she passed in a car accident on a rainy night. But it seemed we might not’ve had the whole story. So, we’d been lookin’ into it, which was probably what this family meeting was about.

I’d been looking forward to a day on the water to let the events of the past few months sink in, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. My relaxing day on the water might’ve just gotten cut short, but I still wanted to get some time in, even if it was just a few hours.

I grabbed my keys and Sherlock’s leash. “You comin’?”

He laid down and sighed. A few years ago, he would have jumped at the chance to be out on the water, but in his old age he was slowin’ down a bit.

“Alright, see ya later.”

I scratched him behind the ears and was out the door.

The drive took less than five minutes, and then I was pulling into the parking lot at the docks. As soon as I got out of my truck, I saw Miss Shaw struggling with getting a box out of the trunk of her car. Her beauty salon, Pretty in Peach, was located in the downtown arts district that ran along the wharf.

“Mornin’, Miss Shaw. Let me help you with that.”

I easily lifted the heavy box and carried it to the back entrance of her shop. She held the screen door open and I set it next to another stack of boxes.

I turned around. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Instead of answering, she lifted her sunglasses off and stared at me like she’d seen a ghost. I would’ve been alarmed if I hadn’t known that was exactly what she was seeing. I was the spittin’ image of my Uncle Henry, a man that she’d been engaged to before he lost his life in a tragic plane crash over forty years ago.

I never met my uncle, but I was now the age he was when he was killed. And if you put a picture of us side by side, you couldn’t tell the difference.

My brothers and I carried on the family names, genes, and dependin’ on who ya talked to, the family curse. The genes and names I didn’t mind so much. The first generation of Comfort men were all built with wide shoulders, muscular arms, and six-pack abs, even when they drank a six-pack a day. My brothers and I had all been blessed with athletic builds that we didn’t have to spend a single day in a gym to achieve or maintain.

And as far as the names went, I had no complaints. I was James Comfort Jr. after my father. My brother Billy was named after my Uncle William, who was also the middle brother in the OG set. And Hank was named after my Uncle Henry, who was the eldest, just like his namesake.

“I just can’t get over how much you resemble him.” Miss Shaw reached up and touched my cheek gently. Tears pooled in her eyes. “It’s just uncanny.”

The pain I saw in Miss Shaw’s eyes was what some people in this town would attribute to the last trait that we’d been bestowed. The Comfort Curse. Legend had it that, three generations earlier, a curse had been placed on the male heirs of the Comfort bloodline. It said that any love they found would end tragically in death, either theirs or their beloved’s. Dark, right? That was why I didn’t really buy into it.

Sure, an argument could be made that all evidence pointed to its legitimacy. For three generations, every single Comfort man had either lost their loves or their lives, and tragically. Still, I reckoned that was either coincidence or self-fulfilling prophecy.

But the one person that was convinced of it was Miss Shaw. She’d never remarried or even dated anyone seriously after my uncle was killed. She maintained that the love they shared was once in a lifetime, and she wasn’t about to tempt fate twice.

“Sorry.” She sniffed and her hand fell.

“No, I’m sorry. If I could change my face I would.” I grinned, hoping to lighten the mood.

“And deprive the female population of Firefly? Never,” she teased. “Thanks for the hand, handsome. And you behave yourself, today, young man.” She waved her finger at me as she gave me the same instruction she’d been giving me my entire life.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I returned my usual response as I headed out of her shop.

By the time I made it down the dock to the Vitamin Sea, a trickle of perspiration slid down my back and sweat started gathering on my forehead. I pulled a ball cap out of my back pocket and put it on.

My boat was my favorite place to spend my mornings, but this was a hot one. Barely eight o’clock in the morning and the sun was already burning like a fireball. Gotta love that Georgia heat.

I was just about to get underway when something drew my attention to the dock. Scanning the area, I stopped short when my gaze fell on a stunning stranger—a woman too beautiful for the real world, as a matter of fact. This girl looked like she belonged on a movie screen, or maybe in my dreams. To see her standing at the edge of the dock I walked on every day of my life stopped me in my tracks.

She was tall and elegant, wearing white linen shorts that showed off her long legs all the way down to her high-heeled sandals, a flowy sky blue tank top that wasn’t clinging to her skin despite the heat and humidity, and oversized sunglasses that made her look like a celebrity in hiding. Her glossy chestnut brown hair was pulled into a high ponytail that hung down to the middle of her back.


Tags: Melanie Shawn Erotic