Seaside Kisses: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 4) (17 page)

"We've got pop," Amara said. "But do you drink that?" He was such a healthy eater, she worried he'd turn it down.

"Every once in a while," he said. "And I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather drink it with." He returned her look of adoration.

Amara was so flustered she couldn't think of anything to say. So, she went to the back room and found chilled soda in the small fridge. She returned with a couple. "You're in luck, I found some natural ones."

"Perfect," he said, reaching for one. Their fingers brushed. Amara's pulse raced as they stared into each other's eyes.

Rafael moved forward, closer to her slowly. Amara's breath caught. His eyes closed just before he brushed his lips across hers. She pressed her lips against his, breathing in the mixture of his cologne and fresh hair gel. It was intoxicating. She pushed herself closer against him, but the cans jammed into her ribs.

She jumped back in surprise. Rafael opened his eyes and smiled. "Maybe that's a sign we should eat."

Or maybe a sign that I'm clueless when it comes to kissing.
Amara forced a smile. "Good idea. I can't wait to try the sandwich you made."

He made a funny face. "I actually have them delivered premade."

Amara raised an eyebrow. "From where? I haven't seen anywhere in town that makes these wraps."

"Online. It saves time when I don't have to make all my meals."

"Smart." Amara picked up a wrap and took a bite. It was delicious. "You'll have to tell me where you order from."

"Or you could just come back to my place and share my food."

Amara nearly choked on her bite of food, but recovered quickly. "I'd love that."

Rafael looked pleased and then bit into his wrap.

As they ate, Amara was tempted to turn off the open sign so no one would disturb her time with Rafael. She couldn't stop staring at his beautiful face, wanting to kiss those sweet lips again. Her stomach twisted in nervous knots as she ate and tried to build up the nerve to kiss him now that he was awake.

He opened his pop and took a sip. "Licorice. Interesting."

"You won't find anything ordinary here in our shop," Amara said, holding his eye contact.

"No, I certainly won't." Rafael continued to stare into her eyes.

She leaned closer, focusing on his mouth.

The bell above the door sounded, and Amara snapped back into her sitting position. A group of teenagers came in, laughing and teasing each other.

"School out already?" Rafael asked.

"Time seems to have disappeared today." It certainly seemed to go by faster with Rafael around.

Eighteen

Rafael unlocked his front door, for the first time in a long time aware of being alone. It was strange that he even thought about it, but it was more than being
alone
. He had always enjoyed his solitary living—it was peaceful to get away from everyone. Maybe it was the fact that he'd grown up in a large family that helped him to appreciate the quiet.

Some had called him an introvert, though he didn't agree with that. He loved being with people, but he also needed time for himself to recharge. But all of a sudden, that felt… lonely.

After having spent all day with Amara, solitude didn't seem like a refuge. They'd had a perfect day together. He rubbed his stitches. An almost perfect day. Just having spent time with her made it better than any other.

He wanted to kick himself for not asking her to have dinner with him, but she'd wanted to check on Alex and his family to see if they needed anything. Rafael couldn't bring himself to try to talk her out of that. Not when they were sick.

He went into the kitchen and turned on the radio, hoping that would distract him from his thoughts. He found a premade dinner in the fridge, turned on the oven, and stuck it inside.

Amara kept popping into his mind. He wanted to call her and invite her over, but at the same time, he didn't want to bother her. They'd been together all day and Alex probably needed her more. He sighed, missing her smile.

What harm would it do? He could ask her, and if she couldn't come, then she couldn't. But if she could… it would be the perfect end to the day.

Rafael pulled out his phone, but before he could find Amara's contact information, the notification of an incoming text sounded. His pulse sped up. Maybe it was her.

It was from a blocked number.

You need to cancel your grand opening.

Another one came in before he had a chance to respond.

You'll be sorry.

Rafael had to read it three times to make sure he'd read it correctly. His stomach twisted in a tight knot.

Who is this?

Don't open your store.

Who. Is. This?

Or else.

Anger burned in Rafael's chest. How dare someone threaten him? And anonymously, no less.

Or else what?

You'll regret it, jerk.

Fury pulsed through his body. He was so angry he couldn't even respond—not coherently. Rafael ran his hand through his hair, pulling it tight between his fingers.

"Deep breaths," he told himself. His lungs wouldn't allow it. He got up and paced.

The timer went off for his dinner, but he ignored it. Who was the coward? He needed to find out and deal with them, man to man. Fist to fist, if need be.

Finally, he couldn't deal with the beeping, so he took his food out of the oven. His appetite had disappeared.

Another text came in.

Afraid?

Rafael wanted to throw his phone against the wall, but he couldn't destroy another one.

You wish. Who is this?

No response.

He paced faster, holding the phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white. How dare they threaten him? His business? Were they pissed that he'd installed the cameras? Now they couldn't damage his property any further, they had to sink to this level.

It was hard to think straight, but he needed to calm down. He wouldn't make a good decision while this furious.

Tell me who you are, you coward.

So much for calming down. He stared at the screen, his nostrils flaring.

Give up your business, and you'll never have to worry about that.

The last thing Rafael was going to do was to quit on his dream because of some angry shop owner next to him. Or her two kids. They were taking this to new levels, and Rafael needed to do something about that.

Go to the police? He wasn't sure that would do any good. He didn't even know who the losers were.

Scared yet?

Rafael wanted to hunt them down and end this now. The levels of anger rushing through him almost scared him. If they were to show up, he couldn't guarantee they'd walk away breathing.

You should be. Open the store, and you're going down.

He stopped pacing and forced himself to breathe deeply. Rather than engaging the wimps, he needed to figure out how to save the texts. They were proof if he did go to the cops.

Maybe they really were mad about the cameras. What if they'd seen them—and better yet, the cameras had caught them? Rafael went into the living room and sat on a recliner, scrolling to the camera app. He'd been so busy all day, he hadn't even checked the footage.

He checked the house first. There was nothing going at the moment, but he went over the video feed since setting it up on hyper speed, but didn't see anything suspicious. The only things that had set it off were him and some birds.

A few texts alerts came in, but Rafael ignored them. Let the idiots keep incriminating themselves.

He went over to look at the feed for the shop. It was likely to have a lot more on it with people walking by all day. It went to the live feed, and two people stood there. It took Rafael a moment to realize they both wore all black—including ski masks that covered their faces. They were making obscene gestures at the camera—at him.

Rage tore through him. He no longer cared about thinking clearly. The only thing he wanted was to find out who those fools were and take them down. No jury would blame him. They were threatening his livelihood.

Rafael picked up his keys from the banister and ran outside to his car, barely remembering to take the time to lock his front door. He hoped he'd remembered to turn the oven off when he took the food out. He had taken it out, right?

He didn't care. The only thing that mattered was getting down there before those imbeciles left. Maybe he would catch them when they were out of the sight of his camera. That would be even better. There would be no proof the damage he was going to inflict upon them.

Rafael started the car and pulled out into the road. He pushed hard on the gas, going at least twice the speed limit. It was a residential area with a lot of kids. He forced himself to slow down. As much as he wanted to get to his store, he couldn't risk hurting anyone.

Once out of his neighborhood, he was tempted to fly through the streets of Kittle Falls, but given how many residents preferred to walk everywhere, he forced himself to slow down again.

He thought back to the traffic in Los Angeles, and decided he should be grateful to not have to get stuck in that. It could take him hours to make the short trek if he had to deal with that.

Text alerts continued to flood in. Those cowards were continuing to taunt him, probably only all the more encouraged by his silence. They wanted him to respond, to get involved in their petty games.

His anger grew with each new alert that sounded. Looking around, he saw no pedestrians. It was time to put the pedal to the metal and surprise those losers.

Rafael hit the gas so hard his head jerked back. The traffic light in front of him turned yellow, but he didn't have time to stop. He knew he was going to run it either way, so he pushed the pedal to the floor.

The light hadn't turned red before he entered the intersection. A familiar red car sped at him from the right side. The chilling sound of metal crushing metal sounded as he felt an impact on the passenger side. The car spun around and hit something on the front.

White from the airbag blocked his vision. It was the last thing he saw before losing consciousness.

Nineteen

Amara's phone rang, waking her from a deep sleep. It took a moment to figure out what was going on. She reached for her nightstand, bumping into books and jewelry before finding the phone.

"Hello?" she asked, not opening her eyes to see who the caller was.

"Is the Amara?" asked a familiar male voice. She couldn't place who it was, but his worried tone woke her up.

"Yes. What's going on?" She sat up, eyes wide and heart racing. "Who is this?"

The caller took a deep breath. "This is Zachary Hunter."

"Zachary?" she asked, confused. Amara looked at the old alarm clock on the nightstand. What was he doing, calling her at three in the morning?

"Sorry to call so late, but I thought you'd want to know that Rafael's in the hospital."

Amara's heart skipped a beat. "What?" she whispered.

"He was just released from the ER into another room where he can have visitors now."

Her head spun. "What happened?"

"There was a car accident," Zachary said. "We don't know any other details yet."

"Is he okay?" Amara squeezed her comforter.

"Yeah. They were mostly worried because he lost consciousness at the scene."

Amara gasped.

"He's got a sprained wrist and some ugly bruises, but otherwise nothing. The doctors say he's really lucky. Apparently his car is totaled."

"Can I see him?" Amara asked, scrambling out of bed.

"That's why I called," Zachary said. "I thought you might want to. He's sleeping now, but the nurses say he should wake up within the hour."

"Thank you so much," Amara said. "What's his room number?"

"I can't remember. I'll text it to you."

"Perfect. Thanks again." Amara ended the call. She found some clothes and threw them on, not even checking to see if they matched. All that mattered was seeing Rafael with her own eyes.

She went into the bathroom to brush her teeth—no sense in having her breath kill him after surviving a car accident. In the mirror, she noticed that her hair stuck out in various directions. She dug around for a hair band and pulled it into a messy ponytail before running out the door.

It was hard to focus on the road, but with so few cars out, she managed the half hour drive. As she locked the car, Amara realized she'd forgotten not only her purse, but her cell phone, too. If Zachary had texted her the room number, she didn't have it.

When she got inside, she went to the front desk. No one was in sight. There was a tiny, almost impossible-to-see note directing visitors to another desk in a different part of the hospital.

Amara found a hospital map and made her way almost to the other end of the massive building. A sleepy-looking nurse sat at a desk, staring off into space. Amara walked over to the desk, waited, and then cleared her throat.