Meant to Be Read online

  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.

  In her line of work, Lauren had learned to spot people who were capable of being physically dangerous—the way they carried themselves, their build, a certain look in their eyes that revealed a complete lack of fear. The man strolling toward her possessed all that and more. He exhibited a certain confidence or authority that could be felt from a distance and discerned in his eyes, yet he was an inconspicuous kind of guy who would not stand out in a crowd—if not for his blatant good looks.

  When he reached her, Rad placed his tanned forearms on the seawall and leaned forward. “Fancy meeting you again.” He smiled at her with a lopsided grin and pushed his ball cap up, revealing more clearly his piercing gray-blue eyes.

  “Yeah, fancy that.” Lauren folded the newspaper. The sight of his boyish smile somehow warmed her heart, yet she still felt somewhat uneasy. “Are you stalking me, or what?”

  “Yeah, right.” His smile disappeared as if disappointed by the response, but it reappeared in an instant. “Actually, I’m staying close to here with some of my buddies and was just walking around taking in the sights.”

  At that moment, two darkly tanned, bikini-clad women strolled past. Over their sunglasses, they stared openly at him.

  “You’re not the only one taking in the sights.” Lauren nodded toward the admirers.

  Rad gave the two spectators an indifferent glance before bringing his attention back to her. But in that brief moment, Lauren had the opportunity to study the powerful stance of his body. Although he talked with surprising gentleness, he seemed the type of man who could knock aside anyone who got in his way with no remorse or pity. His tight tee shirt revealed an athletic, fit physique, yet he didn’t seem like the type of guy who spent countless hours in a weight room. Rather, his broad shoulders and sinewy forearms looked like those of a hard-working farm boy who had grown up throwing bales of hay.

  “Hey, have you ever been to the Ripley Museum?”

  Lauren stared at him curiously, as if he had some magical powers allowing him to see what she had seen. “No.”

  He hesitated, seeming to measure her for a moment. “Wanna go check it out?

  “With you?”

  “Why not?” He vaulted over the sea wall so effortlessly, Lauren blinked and shook her head. Although the wall only stood about two and a half feet high on her side, it was close to five feet on his.

  Lauren’s surprise altered into suspicion as she instinctively scanned the jam-packed beach and crowded Boardwalk. How had he found her so easily? It seemed improbable, if not impossible, that he’d just stumbled upon her. Yet when he sat down and looked into her eyes with a friendly, unassuming expression, her uneasiness faded, and she felt, once again, like an awkward schoolgirl.

  “They say that truth—”

  “Is stranger than fiction,” Lauren finished for him. “Yes, I’ve seen the ad. No, I don’t want to go.” She tried to give the impression hi
s invitation was a matter of supreme indifference to her, yet her pounding heart continued to disclose something completely different.

  “You said you were here for some R&R. Why not kick up your heels and enjoy yourself?”

  She regarded him with an incredulous gaze. “First of all, R&R means rest and relaxation—not, ‘kick up your heels,’ and secondly—”

  With one swift movement, Rad stood, and gently but firmly, pulled her off the bench. “Oh come on. Don’t go getting all technical on me. I have no plans, and yours seem vague, so why not?”

  “But I don’t even know you!”

  Lauren peered around for help, but Rad merely stopped and cocked his head. “Yes you do. We met his morning, remember?” He checked his watch. “We’ve known each other more than two hours now.” He chuckled and gave her such a charming smile she allowed him to lead her down the Boardwalk. She had pretty good instincts about people, and even though she remained suspicious about his actions, he didn’t strike her as the dangerous, sinister type. What could he do to her in broad daylight with all these people around anyway?

  “Why don’t your buddies go with you?” Lauren walked fast, trying to keep up with his long strides.

  “They’ve all been there.” He paused and stepped aside for an elderly woman on a bike before resuming his brisk pace. “I’m the only one who’s never been to this beach before.”

  “But seriously,” Lauren tried to reason with him. “How do I know you even have any buddies? How do I know you’re not—?”

  “Tell you what. You can meet them tonight.” He looked back at her playfully and winked. “They’re having a little party on the beach.”

  Lauren reached out and pulled him to a stop. “Oh? And I’m going?”

  He threw his hands up in the air as if exasperated, even though his eyes were laughing. “You just insinuated you wanted to meet them, right?” He put his hands on his hips. “Anyway, I told them you’d be there. I hope you’re not going to stand me up in front of my buddies. Believe me, I’d never live it down.”

  Lauren shook her head and started walking again. Two hours ago she had never met this man, and now he was trying to make her feel guilty if she didn’t go meet his friends. Should she be worried? Or excited? She glanced up at his carefree smile and tried to relax, yet still the questions kept on coming. Should she trust her instincts? Keep up her guard? Maybe things like this happened all the time in the United States now. Certainly things had changed since the last time she had touched down here.

  But things weren’t adding up. There’s no way a man this good-looking can be unmarried or unattached.

  Lauren decided the best course of action was to come right out and ask him. “Okay. So level with me.”

  “Sure.” He didn’t stop moving, and she wondered if he wanted to get her far enough from her hotel room that she wouldn’t be likely to change her mind and go back.

  “Not to get personal or anything, but I don’t see a wedding ring, and I’m wondering—”

  He didn’t let her finish, glancing down at her with an unperturbed expression. “I don’t see a ring on your finger either.”

  Lauren frowned. “That’s different.”

  “How?” He came to a stop and crossed his arms as he stared at her with a penetrating gaze.

  “B-b-because, I-I travel a lot.”

  He turned and began walking again. “So do I as a matter of fact. What else do you want to know?” Before she had time to answer he came to a halt again—so abruptly—she almost ran into him. “Hey, maybe we could be friends on Facebook or something.”

  “No. Actually, we couldn’t.” Lauren gave him a look of annoyance. “I’m not on Facebook.”

  “Yeah, me neither.”

  Lauren grabbed his arm before he could take off again. “Then why did you ask?”

  He merely shrugged. “I dunno. It was just a thought. You know, since we both travel.”

  “Okay. So let me get this straight.” She shook her head in exasperation. “You’re not married. And you’re not attached. And you’re not on Facebook—”

  “Same as you.”

  Lauren frowned since he made a good point, but kept right on with her questioning. “So maybe you’re on the rebound—just need someone to talk to. And I’ll be the first to tell you I’m not the most sociable—”

  “Good one!” For the first time he actually laughed out loud. “But no, for the record, I’m not on the rebound.”

  When he noticed she wasn’t laughing with him, he got serious and pulled her to the side of the Boardwalk, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Sorry if I’m being pushy and forward.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Seriously. I’m not usually like this.”

  Lauren stared up at him and tried to read the sincerity in his eyes. When she saw how distraught he seemed, she softened her tone. “Yeah, well, I know I’m not the most trusting person in the world.”

  He smiled with a cockeyed grin. “I’ve noticed that, Miss Lauren.”

  Lauren wasn’t the type of person to rush headlong into anything, but neither was she the type to run away from something that alarmed her. She actually enjoyed the thrill of the unknown. And when the unknown came in the form of a tall, dark, handsome stranger, it seemed perfectly natural she should take a slight leap of faith.

  What was the worst thing that could happen? Would it really matter if she discovered this infatuation was superficial? That he wasn’t the type of guy she ever wanted to see again?

  The opposite scenario—the one that could have far greater consequences—never entered her mind because love him or hate him, she’d be leaving in the morning.

  The thought of getting on that plane and heading half way around the world almost made her shudder. Why not throw reason to the wind and have a good time while I can? Heaven knows there will be no handsome, charming men to socialize with where I’m going.

  “Tell you what.” His deep voice interrupted her thoughts. “If it helps any, we can lay some ground rules.”

  She looked up at him curiously and felt impaled by his steady gaze. “Like what?”

  “Like, you don’t have to feel obligated to tell me anything about yourself you don’t want to.”

  Lauren’s heart skipped a beat. “And vice versa, I suppose?”

  He grinned out of the side of his mouth. “Of course.”

  She mulled it over a moment. “Okay. Deal. Except I do have one question I’d like you to answer.”

  He glanced at her suspiciously.

  “It’s just a yes or no answer—nothing too revealing.”

  “In that case, okay.”

  Lauren studied him, her brows creased. “You’re not an escaped convict, right?”

  Rad put his head back and laughed. “No.” He held up his hands, palms out, to show his innocence. “No criminal record. Scout’s honor.”

  His smile was so irresistible, Lauren had to chuckle too. “That makes me feel a little better.”

  “It’s good to be cautious, I guess.” Rad shook his head.

  “Can’t blame a girl for being careful.” Lauren hoped her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

  “No. I don’t.”

  His voice was soft, and the sincerity in his gaze made her heart throb in her throat again. Taking a deep breath to steady it, Lauren made her decision. With an attraction she could not account for and feelings she could not control, it seemed reasonable to ignore her usual suspicions and let down her guard. “I guess I should let loose and just go with it, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled and winked. “Let’s just go with it.”

  Chapter 3

  Lauren relaxed a little as she took in the old familiar sites of the Boardwalk that never failed to flood her with happy memories. It was such a friendly, happy atmosphere, she found it impossible to feel anything but a sense of comfort and contentment.

  “Here we are.”

  Lauren glanced up at the big red sign of the Ripley museum when Rad interrupted he
r thoughts.

  “Two, please.” He handed the cashier his cash, but Lauren grabbed his arm. “I can pay for my own.”

  “No, it’s my pleasure.”

  Lauren cocked her head as she gazed at him. Something about how he said the words made them sound sensuous and intimate, leaving her spellbound—but Rad didn’t notice. He clasped her by the wrist and led her through the turnstiles. “Here we go. Off to the Odditorium!”

  His high spirits and childlike enthusiasm were contagious. For the first time in five years, Lauren forgot about her duties, her problems, her responsibilities—and even her upcoming trip as she followed Rad up the stairs to the first landing of the museum.

  After pausing to read about the different exhibits on the way, they both grew quiet and meditative as they made it to the first floor and studied pieces of the Berlin Wall in rapt silence. The huge 10-foot by 10-foot cement blocks lay stacked to the ceiling in all their enormous severity.

  The sign board indicated the original wall, built to separate East and West Berlin in 1961, was eleven to thirteen feet high and stretched twenty-eight miles. More than one hundred thousand people attempted to escape over it, but only a few thousand were successful.

  Colorful graffiti still adorned the blocks, and one section in particular caught their attention. Written in huge scrawling letters was the phrase, Don’t Go With The Flow. This powerful message from the past made Lauren stop and catch her breath. She felt as if the words were speaking to her, like a voice from beyond.

  “That’s powerful.” Rad’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Lauren nodded and laid her hand flat on the wall. “Imagine the courage it took to resist.”

  “And the desperation.”

  “Yeah.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Freedom—or the lack of it—is a powerful motivator.”