KALI HART
Adriana is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Kali Hart
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Daisy Hills Series
ADRIANA
“You keep pacing the kitchen like that and I’ll have to get Malcom to redo the floor,” my sister Celia says. Her laugh is gentle enough, but her sparkling eyes tell me the truth. She sees right through my nervousness.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket to check the time. Five minutes. “Do you have any of those raspberry Danishes?” I ask, completely ignoring her insinuations. Not like it’s some huge secret anyway. All of my sisters know that I have a huge crush on our special guest, Harrison Carter.
He’s only been here for two hours and I already think my heart might explode. How on earth am I going to survive his whole two week stay at the DAISY HILLS B&B?
I’ve had a crush on him since I was in junior high and he was a senior. Of course, he didn’t even know who I was back then. But that tiny fact never seems to matter. Every time that man comes to town, I feel like I’m in junior high all over again. Hopelessly lost in daydreams of floating hearts while I pen Mrs.HarrisonCarteron any piece of scratch paper I can find.
“Here,” Celia says, extending a tray to me. “But only take one. The rest are for the guests.”
For a split second, I’m not completely worked up about seeing Harrison face to face. Celia is a master in the kitchen and her food can make most people forget their own names. “These are sogood,” I moan, savoring the pastry, my heartbeat slowing the slightest. “Just what I needed.”
“You know, you’re not a kid anymore,” Celia says to me, making me regret the Danish and her momentary kindness. If only I’d known it was a trap.
“Nothappening.”
“Why not?” Her phone chimes, momentarily distracting her and saving me from answering as her face lights up. “Aren’t they just the cutest?” She holds out the phone to share the photo of her daughters sent by her mother-in-law. “I miss them so much!”
“They’ve only been gone an hour,” I say with a raised eyebrow. I’m the last holdout among the five of us. Unmarried, not even dating. They all seem to be conspiring to show me the joys of wedded bliss and motherhood. Even Bianca and Jeremy have been going at it like rabbits now that he’s secured his teaching position. I don’t fully understand how my sisters can show up to the B&B, utterly exhausted from a sleepless night, and still miss the babies who caused it minutes later.
“When you have kids, you’ll get it.” Celia says, flashing me a mischievous smile. “If you took Harrison some of these pastries, you might even get a head start.”
Only the alarm on my phone saves me from that trap. I pop the rest of the Danish in my mouth and hurry to the second floor. Harrison doesn’t live in Daisy Hills. He’s only staying for two weeks while the covered bridge he designed is being built. Once the ribbon cutting ceremony is over, he’ll go back to the city. Back to his real life.
I shouldn’t have to remind any of my eager-to-play-matchmaker sisters of this roadblock. Who knows how long it’ll be before he comes through town again. If I make a complete fool of myself this time by throwing myself at him, there’s no way he’ll stay at the B&B ever again.
Outside his door, my hand trembles as I reach up to knock. After a long flight, he requested someone knock on his door to wake him when it was time to head to the ground breaking ceremony. Even if I hadn’t offered, my well-meaning sisters would’ve volunteered me anyway.
Knowing Harrison is on the other side of that door doesn’t make this any easier. In seconds, I’ll come face to face with the sinfully sexy man who makes my pulse double instantly. Be cool, Adriana. Youronlyjobis tosmile.Don’tthrowyourselfathim,anddon’trun awaylikeascaredcat.
I’m still giving myself a mental pep talk when the opening and closing of a door down the hall forces me to knock or look like a fool with an outstretch hand.
I wait a few beats for an answer as a guest disappears downstairs. He’s not answering. WhatifIhave togo inthere?Is he sleeping—naked?Just as I’m about to knock a second time, the door flies open.
Harrison Carter fills the doorway. Literally. His broad shoulders nearly span the width. The tips of his sexy stylish hair are hardly an inch from brushing the top of the doorframe. The top three buttons are undone on his shirt—the only sign he just rolled out of bed. He looks refreshed and put together in that professional way that makes my throat constrict.
“It’s time.” The words come out as a squeak, and I feel heat run rampantly up my neck and settle onto my cheeks.
“Ah, the groundbreaking ceremony.”
I nod because words are so not my friend right now. My eyes aren’t doing me any favors either, though. My gaze is stuck on his undone buttons, unable to tear away from the hard lines of muscle that peak through the opening.
“Thanks,” Harrison says, fixing two of the three buttons, completely misreading my attention for the better. “My mother would kill me if I showed up half dressed.” He looks at me, his gaze more intense than I’m prepared for.
HolyDanishesishegoingtokiss me?
“You, uh,” he says, pointing to the corner of his mouth.
“What’s that?”
“You have something—” He reaches out, his index finger swiping at the corner of my mouth. My skin heats at his touch, my body threatening to melt into a puddle on the spot. My breathing is labored, my nerves buzzing with anticipation. I’m too stunned to dissect what’s happening and instead lean in closer.
Until he pulls his finger back, revealing a smudge of raspberry.
Killmenow.
“We better get going,” he says as if the most embarrassing moment of my life didn’t just occur. He shrugs into a blazer and locks his door behind him, leaving me standing in my mortification as he rushes toward the staircase.
If only I wasn’t the event planner his mother—themayor—hired for the ribbon cutting ceremony to honor her son’s architectural genius, I could skip town and live out my days in a black hole.
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HARRISON
A round of applause signals the conclusion of the groundbreaking ceremony my mother insisted was necessary before construction could begin on the covered bridge I designed. I’ve never been a fan of pomp and circumstance, but when your mother’s the mayor, you don’t get to dodge the spotlight all the time.
“Was that so terrible?” Mother asks.
“A little over the top since you’ve already been reelected,” I tease.
“I’m always up for reelection,” she counters, not finding my comment too amusing. “Smile dear. We’re going to be front page news.”
I suffer through a couple dozen shots for the sake of my mother, relieved when the camera is finally put away. I’m exhausted from the earlier flight that was followed by a two-hour drive to Daisy Hills. All I want is some sleep. And maybe some of that raspberrypastry. I didn’t let Adriana see me suck the fruit from my finger, but dammit, it was delicious.
Automatically, I scan the area for her, my heart skipping a few beats when I spot her talking to one of her sisters near the creek. Since the moment I checked in, she’s captured my undivided
attention. It’s not my fault she’s wearing that teal sundress patterned with dark purple flowers. Amazingly, it’s pulling double duty with style; both professional enough to please my mother, and mouth-wateringly sexy as it hugs all her curves.
Since she’s the event planner my mother hired to put on the ribbon cutting ceremony celebration, I’ll be spending a good deal of time with her. So, it wouldn’t be wise to get tangled up with her. But fuck, how I’d love to be tangled up with her. Preferably in the sheets.
She catches me staring, but I don’t look away.
“I don’t know why you’re staying at the B&B,” Mother mutters as we move off the old bridge platform that’ll be ripped away first thing tomorrow morning. Once back on solid ground, she adds, “There’s plenty of room at home.”
Normally I stay with my mother when I’m in town, but now that my brother Wren is married, Mom has decided I’m her next matchmaking project. You’d think thousands of miles would keep her out of my love life. My email inbox would say otherwise. Thanks, Wren.
“The B&B is walking distance from the bridge site,” I say, pointing at the Victorian building peeking through the trees, hardly more than a block away.
“I can have someone drive you,” she argues, though her politician smile never drops. “We have so much to discuss before your ribbon cutting ceremony. Special guests—”
“Adriana Turner.” I cut off the debate as Adriana strolls our way. I wish she were here for me, maybe she knew I needed saving. But I bet she’s here for my mother.
“Ms. Turner, are you available for lunch later this week?” Mother asks, not missing a beat. “We need to finalize the details of the ribbon cutting ceremony.” Mother looks at me, as if deciding whether or not to include me. “I want everything to be perfect. This is a lifechanging event for Harrison. I can’t have anything go wrong.”
“Everything will be perfect,” Adrianna promises, not the least intimidated by my mother’s impossible standards. Or if she is, she
could win an Oscar for best actress. “Harrison, just wanted to let you know, you have a package at the B&B.”
A smile spreads across my lips of its own accord. The beauty is saving me from my mother. Marryher. The thought is so sudden and unexpected I nearly choke. “I better go see what it is,” I say to mother, already walking away with Adriana.
“Family dinner on Sunday,” Mother calls after me.
I nod one final time before completely turning my attention away from her. I love my mother with all my heart, but I can only handle her in doses. Very small doses. “Thank you,” I murmur to Adrianna as we step on the lawn of the B&B. “Is there really a package?”
“Yes,” she says with a light laugh, warming my whole chest. Fuck, all I can think about is the feel of her silky smooth skin against my finger earlier. That one simple touch has my mind wandering in all sorts of erotically dangerous places. “I need to make a quick call. I’ll bring it up to your room after if you’d like?”
“Thank you.” The words that come out instead of no.
I take the stairs two at a time, wondering if I’m completely fucked when it comes to the alluring Adriana Turner. I know almost nothing about her. Only that she and her sisters inherited this house and transformed it into the popular B&B it has become. She runs an event planning business, too. I remember the Turner girls in school, but not Adriana. I suspect it’s because she’s the youngest.
I’ve barely shrugged out of my blazer and undone the top three buttons when I hear the knock at the door. Thatwasquick.
“This came for you,” she says, offering a cardboard tube.
The wise thing to do would be to take it from her, say thank you, and close the door. Instead, I step back, open the door wider, and nod for her to come in.
Adriana hesitates for a single beat before flying inside the door. I can’t be the only one who feels this unexplainable pull between us. The one that kept me scanning the crowd for her at the groundbreaking ceremony, never too happy when I lost sight of her.
“Thank you,” I say, feeling as if I need to justify inviting her into my room. But that seems weak at best. I try again. “For saving me from my mother.”
“Happy to help.”
Though my urge is to close the door, I don’t trust myself. Not with the bed so temptingly nearby. “Those must be the official blueprints,” I say, taking the tube from her. Our fingers graze softly, igniting a fire inside me.
What is it about this curvaceous beauty that has my senses so heightened? Yes, she’s incredibly attractive. Those sky blue eyes are enough to make a man forget how to speak. But it’s something more I can’t put my finger on. A strong pull that leaves me no choice but to be completely enraptured in her presence—and her absence.
“Is there anything else you need?”
“I’d love one of the raspberry pastries.”
Her cheeks heat to tomato red in a heartbeat. “I’m so mortified,” she mumbles, looking longingly at the door.
I daringly step closer, leaving mere inches between us. Giving her the opportunity to run away or stay. She stays. I can’t help the hand that reaches out toward her face, gently brushing the spot where the pastry tempted me once before. “I bet it was a really good pastry.”
“It was.” Her voice is raspy, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I can’t help but notice her hard nipples poking out through the silky fabric. Fuck. I’m only a man. “I can see if there are any more,” she adds, her gaze dropping to my lips and locking there.
The last ounce of self-control I possess slips away. I close the gap between us, cupping her cheek to guide her lips to mine. As much as I’ve been craving her kiss since the moment I first saw her, I’m not prepared for how fiercely my body reacts when she threads her hands through my hair. Her fingers dig hungrily into my neck. Her lips part, inviting my tongue inside for a dance as my hand runs up and down her side.
I shouldn’t kiss her.
I shouldn’t get physically involved with the woman my mother hired.
I shouldn’t risk my heart when we live thousands of miles apart.
Yet, I can’t seem to stop myself.
My hand slips up her side and settles on her tit. Squeezing softly, to test the waters. She moans into my mouth, and I squeeze harder, feeling her hard nipple through the fabric.
I reach my foot out to kick the door closed when I hear someone calling her name.
“Adriana, are you up here?”
“Shit!” she mutters, stumbling back toward the open door, seconds before Celia Turner appears in the hallway.
“I thought you were going to take Mr. Carter some of my Danishes,” Celia says, handing me a plate. Her sister sizes us up in about two seconds, and I know we’ve been caught. Adriana’s cheeks are flushed and my hair is no doubt tumbled from her eager fingers. Fuck, I really wasn’t thinking. I can’t risk Adriana’s reputation should my mother find out. She might be livid enough to smear the B&B’s name. Fuck,fuck,fuck.
I wait for Celia to leave before I do the asshole thing and say to Adriana, “I’m sorry. That was a mistake. It won’t happen again.” I close the door before I have time to feel guilty enough to pull her back into my arms.
Fuck me. Two weeks is a long time to resist a woman like Adriana Turner. Especially after a life altering kiss like that.
ADRIANA
It’s been three days since that sizzling kiss, and Harrison has gone out of his way to avoid me. Like it was mewho pounced on him. “So much for school girl fantasies come to life,” I mutter, but not quietly enough to avoid my best friend Rose’s ears even as she works to finish a flower arrangement.
“I don’t for one second believe that man thinks kissing you was a mistake,” Rose says firmly, pointing a flower stem at me.
“Then why did he say it?”
“Because men are idiots,” Kelsey, the help Rose hired after I badgered her for months, chimes in.
“Yep,” Rose agrees.
“Easy for you to say,” I fire back. “You can say whatever you want about Tristan because you married him. He might be an idiot sometimes, but you love him. He’s not going to go into hiding for three days because he kisses you and freaks out.”
Rose stares at me hard. “You remember how he basically ghosted me, right?”
I move toward the front, pretending to admire the arrangements Rose has in her window display. But really, it’s an excuse to scan the downtown streets for Harrison.
I had the most awkward lunch with his mom yesterday. One that gave me the distinct impression she’d never approve of me messing around with her son. Her whole focus was on making sure the event went off without a hitch because it’s going to advance Harrison’s career. She didn’t have to speak a threat out loud for me to know that damaging his reputation would come with some serious consequences. I don’t know if it’s me personally she has something against or the fact that sleeping with her son while he’s only in town for a short while would make him look like a womanizer instead of family-man material and potentially hurt his career advancement. “God that lunch was awkward,” I mutter under my breath.
Today is Harrison’s turn to have lunch with his mom. I’m not eager to chance a run-in with them together. “Maybe we should order in.”
“All this hiding crap needs to stop,” Rose insists, abandoning her arrangement and marching up to me. “You need to confront him.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re an adult, and so is he,” she presses.
I hate how this conversation makes me feel thirteen again. “He doesn’t even live here. What’s the point?”
“Even I know the answer to that,” says Kelsey, shaking her head from behind the counter. She’s a little shy and new to the area, but I dogenerally like her. Except in this particular moment.
“I bet you lunch next week that if you confront the man and demand to know whykissing you was a mistake that it’ll end in more kissing.” Rose grabs her purse and meets me at the door. “If he’s at JAX’S BAR AND GRILL, then you can ask him there.” My mortified expression causes Rose to burst out in laughter. “Kidding. We both know Mommy Dearest wouldn’t take that well.”
“She isgiving me a huge job,” I argue. “There’s even a magazine coming to write up an article.” Reality sinks in as we head down the sidewalk toward the most popular restaurant in town. “If I fool around with him and the mayor finds out, it could hurt my event planning business. Maybe even the inn. I can’t risk that.”
Rose drapes her arm around my shoulder and laughs. “Who says anyone’s going to find out?”
“No one can keep a secret in this town.”
“Youcan.”
My pulse triples at the thought of kissing Harrison again. Of his hands sliding up and down my body as he undresses me. My body shivers despite the warm sun beating down. I know getting involved with Harrison is the worst idea, yet I crave his touch.
“Wager is still open if you’re willing to take the bet,” Rose adds, no doubt seeing right through my resolve. “But you have to ask him tonight.”
I don’t know if it’s bravery or stupidity that comes over me, but the word “deal,” escapes from my lips before I can take it back.
HARRISON
Avoiding Adrianna these past three days has been hell. After that kiss, my desire for her has become insatiable. Even a glimpse of her from afar damn near gives me a hard on. Not to mention my dreams are out of fucking control.
I should be exhausted from the fourteen-hour days on site. My mother was adamant about this covered bridge being finished in two weeks. The crew is working around the clock to make it happen. But no matter how many hours I pour into the project, or what I try to do to distract myself when I get back my room at night, I’m restless.
I’ve never been drawn to a woman the way I was drawn to Adriana that first day. The way I’m stilldrawn to her.
I’ve certainly never kissed a woman I justmet.
The feel of her bountiful tit in my palm makes my dick twitch. I’ve already rubbed one out tonight in the shower, thinking of Adriana’s sweet lips in places they have no business being. But my dick doesn’t give a shit.
It wants one thing: her.
I shove my hand into my shorts, grabbing my dick. My eyes fall closed as I picture Adriana in that sundress. In my fantasy, she
stands before me, tugging down her zipper and letting the dress fall at her feet.
She’s not wearing anything underneath.
Mid stroke I hear a soft knock at the door. “Shit,” I mutter, pulling my hand from my shorts and trying like hell to hide the raging hard on I’ve created with that dangerous fantasy. “Just a minute,” I call to the knocker.
With a few deep breaths to slow my erratic pulse, I answer the door.
Adriana stands in the hall, arms crossed over her chest, eyes laser beam-focused on me. Not a smile to be found. “Why was kissing me a mistake?” she challenges, her voice low but firm. “Am I a bad kisser or something?”
Though I was secretly hoping she was at my door, this isn’t exactly what I expected to find with the fantasy come true. “Bad kisser?” I let out a half laugh, but she doesn’t smile. “Hardly, Adriana. You’re…an amazing kisser.” I gulp a swallow, afraid eavesdroppers might be lurking in the hallways I can’t see.
I step back, inviting her in.
She doesn’t move.
Wellshit.
“We work together,” I continue, wanting desperately for her to understand why we should keep our physical distance from each other. “You’re working for my mom. I don’t think I have to explain what she’s capable of when she’s upset. Then there’s the whole matter that I’m not staying—” Though honestly, the more I’m home in Daisy Hills, the more I realize I miss small town life. The simpler, slower way of things. It could be Adriana tempting me to move back and settle down, but I think it’s more than that.
“That’s really it?” Her voice softens, drawing my gaze to her lips. Fuck me I want to kiss her again, and I don’t want to stop this time.
“Yeah. Though right now I don’t know why the hell any of that matters.” I didn’t mean to say the last out loud. My desire for her is stronger than ever. Thankfully, my loose shorts are mostly hiding my throbbing dick.
“I know you’re not staying,” Adriana says, dropping her folded arms. I can’t help but notice the way her tits bounce in their newly found freedom. Is shenotwearinga bra underthatdress?“No one has to know.”
The last words do me in. Not because I want to keep this a secret. Fuck, I want every man in town to know she’s mywoman. So keepyour fucking handsoff. But it’s crucial my mother doesn’t find out until after the ribbon cutting ceremony. She can be a bit spiteful, and I don’t want any harm to befall Adriana or her sisters’ business. I tug at her elbow, drawing her inside the room. I close the door and pin her up against it. Our bodies press together, and I’m certain my desire is no longer a secret with the way it’s shoved up against her belly. I lick my bottom lip, my gaze fixated on her mouth.
“This is a bad idea,” I say in a low whisper. Her fingers wrap around my biceps. “I know, but I want it so badly.”
Though her words tug me in closer, it’s her touch that makes the last ounce of reason flee. I tilt her chin up with my knuckle, slowly lowering my lips to hers. Savoring the anticipation of the kiss. She wets her lips and my dick twitches against her stomach.
Adriana gasps. “What are you hiding down there?”
A wicked smirk spreads across my lips. “You’ll soon find out.”
Gently I brush her lips, my hand scooping under her jaw. As badly as I want her—as desperately as I need to claim her as my own—I want take my time. To commit every sensation to memory. Her hand slides up my shoulder, wrapping around my neck. Pulling me down to deepen the kiss. My tongue trails demandingly across her lips until she parts them, inviting me in. Her tits press into my chest as she arches her back against the door. Definitelyno bra underthere.
Reaching behind her, I find the zipper and tug it down a few inches. Just enough to allow me to push the dress off her shoulders. The silky fabric catches on her hard nipples.
“Fuck, Adriana.”
She moans as my lips blaze a leisurely trail down her neck. I use my teeth to lift the fabric over her nipples and take one into my
mouth. She moans softly, her fingers digging hard into the back of my neck.
I want to take her right now. Free my cock, lift her leg, and thrust into that sweet pussy right up against this door. But I know we’d make too much noise. Draw too much attention. Another plan forms in my head as I palm and suckle her tits, one then the other. I can’t get enough of these fucking beauties.
“I want you,” she pants in a whisper.
My heated gaze locks with hers. The desire drenched in her deep blue eyes is almost enough for me to cave and say fuck it. Let the whole town hear us. “I want you too,” I say firmly, so she won’t leave here wondering. “But not here.”
“Where?”
“Tomorrow.” With my hands still filled with her tits, I bring our mouths together again. Her lips are my kryptonite. I pinch her nipples between my fingers and she moans loud enough to quiet us both in fear. “After the day is over, I’ll come get you.”
“I have to wait a whole day?” she whimpers.
I squeeze her tits, loving the pleasureful expression on her face when I do. It’s the same one I’ll be remembering when I stroke myself tonight. “You can always touch yourself and think of me until then.”
“You say that like I don’t already do that,” she says with a heated laugh. The blush that flushes her cheeks seconds later is fucking adorable. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
I tug on her bottom lip with my teeth, sliding my hands between her legs hard. “You most certainly did.” Fuck me, I’m having the hardest time convincing myself to let her go. The bed is so close and her pussy is so warm and wet, evident despite the layers of dress fabric. “You better go before we wake up the whole town with you screaming my name, sweetheart.”
HARRISON
“You’re taking me to work?” Adriana says, an eyebrow raised as we near the half-constructed covered bridge. The overall frame is up and sturdy. Mostly it’s the cosmetic things that are left to complete.
“I thought we could knock out two birds with one stone,” I say. Because today is Sunday, my mother decided working around the clock could be cut short today. It’s the only reason we’re alone right now. Unless she realizes I skipped family dinner to be with Adriana. Then I might have a new problem on my hands.
“Because of the ribbon cutting ceremony next week?”
“Something like that.” I take her hand, leading into the cover of the old bridge. Because of the surrounding trees and creek and its location at the edge of town, we’re mostly safe from onlookers. The road is closed to everyone, though it hasn’t stopped the curious residents from wandering past the cones on occasion.
“You brought me here to work?” Her laugh doesn’t hide her disappointment.
I stop, spinning her around toward me by the hand. “I brought you here to share something I’m very passionate about with you.” I nod at the bridge. “I’m an architect because I love it. I love designing structures.” Dammit I probably sound like a nerd because
I can’t seem to shut up now that the topic has been unleashed. “I have a passion for restoring old things back to their former glory. When this bridge is finished, it’ll take people back in time just by looking at it.”
Adriana places a hand on my chest, on my rapidly beating heart. “You’re pretty hot when you’re excited like this.”
Resisting the temptation to kiss her, even when someone might walk up on us, is impossible. The moment our lips meet, I feel a shift in the air. Of course, I’m physically attracted to Adriana. But that’s simply one layer of what’s happening to me. I’m falling in love with her. Yes, I’ve avoided her for a few days. But I never stopped trying to figure out who she was. I’ve been stalking her event planning website. Asking her sisters questions about her, knowing full well that they saw right through me.
Everything about Adriana Turner has captured me, mind, body, and soul.
“I’m really going to miss kissing you when you leave,” Adriana says when our lips break apart. We’re both panting. Her eyes are hooded.
“What if I didn’t leave?” The words are out before I can censor them. Though I’ve tossed around the idea of staying, I haven’t spoken the thought aloud until now. I had no intentions of saying anything to Adriana until I knew for sure. The last thing I want to do is toy with her emotions. But now that the words are out, I don’t want to take them back.
“You might stay?” The light in her eyes fills me with warmth.
“I’ve thought about it.”
She snakes both hands around my neck and kisses me hard on the mouth. We shuffle on the bridge, backing against a beam. My hands slide down her sides, over her hips, and down her thighs of their own accord.
I gather the hem of her dress, careful to leave her hips as covered as possible, lifting the fabric directly in front of me just enough to grant me access. I dive a hand inside her silky panties, groaning at the wetness that greets my eager fingers.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so wet.”
“All your fault,” she accuses as my lips devour her neck.
“Did you touch yourself last night?” I slowly stroke her pussy, teasing her swollen bud as I await the answer.
“Maybe.”
My dick hardens completely with the single word. If I wasn’t worried about someone walking up on us, I would take her right here, right now. “I want you to tell me,” I say with a growl. “Tell me what you did to yourself last night while you were thinking of me.”
“I—I—oh!”
“Did you do this?” With my middle finger, I flicker her clit.
“Yeah,” she admits in raspy pant.
“What about this?” I stroke her folds with one finger.
“More fin—fingers.”
I press three fingers together and saw through her folds. She’s so fucking wet. “Like this?”
“Yes!”
“Did you do this too?” I slip a finger inside her slit while my hand continues to rock against her folds.
Her eyes fall closed. “Mmm yeah.”
I’m so fucking turned on right now that I nearly forget our surroundings. It’s seriously taking every ounce of concentration to keep an ear out for anyone else who might dare disturb this intimate moment.
“Did you come when you thought about me?”
Through her soft whimpers, she manages a nod. I can tell she’s close to the edge, and I want to make her fly.
“If you came last night thinking about me, it’s only fair you come for me now. Don’t you think?”
“Mmm.”
“Come for me,” I order. “Come all over my hand, Adriana.”
Her fingers press so hard into my shoulder it’s almost painful. Her lips pinch tight, but her moans can’t be swallowed completely as her pussy starts to convulse with my finger buried inside her channel. She comes apart on my hand, holding onto me for dear life as our lips connect. I kiss her hard as she rides her pleasure wave.
“Wow,” she pants, her eyes fluttering open.
Slowly, I pull my hand from her pussy. It’s covered in her sweet juices. The flavor of her drives me fucking wild. I want to lick her and make her come a second time on this bridge. But before I can kneel down to make good on that desire, footsteps cause us both to still.
“There you two are.” Mother’s shrill voice causes me to stiffen. Of all the fucking moments to interrupt, why this one? I hide Adriana behind me so she can fix her dress before Mother comes into sight. “I went by the inn but Isabella said she had no idea where you two were. Harrison, you skipped out on family dinner.”
“I’ve been working, Mother.” I nod at Adriana. “We were discussing the ribbon cutting ceremony. I know how important this project is.” I almost add to you but catch the words before they leave my lips. I’m not trying to poke the bear with a stick or anything.
“Oh good. That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss. But it’s getting dark. Why don’t we go to DAISY’S DINER so we can finalize the plans?”
It’s going to be completely fucking awkward, the three of us crammed into a booth. My mother is a smart woman. Hiding my intense attraction to Adriana is going to be damn near impossible. “How about Jax’s?” I offer instead, hoping the dimly lit bar and grill will help hide what’s happening between Adriana and me. And a beer. Yeah, definitely a beer or two.
“Fine,” Mother relents. “Hurry up and get in the car.”
Adriana and I exchange a silent look that speaks volumes. We both know the risks, but there’s no way in hell either one of us want to take anything back. We may have to pretend around my mother. But tonight, when we’re alone again, I’m going to make Adriana mine.
Sleep is impossible.
I can’t stop thinking about Harrison’s hand on my pussy while we were on the covered bridge. The way he brought me to a level of pleasure that I’ve never been able to find on my own. If only his mother hadn’t interrupted us, maybe that massive cock would be showing me even more pleasure heights I’ve never reached before. I toss away the covers.
I shouldn’t do this.
I shouldn’t go to him.
Not in the B&B. We agreed that it was too risky. The walls are too thin. The rooms are full. If we make too much noise, our secret will no longer be safe.
WhatifIstayed?That single phrase has repeated over and over in my mind since he spoke the words. I never even entertained the idea of Harrison moving back home. I fantasized about leaving with him. Starting an event planning business in New York, or wherever his career took him. But it never really felt right because I don’t want to leave my sisters. I love living in the same town and getting to spoil all my nieces.
ADRIANA
I’m halfway down the hall to his room when Harrison appears in the dimly lit hallway. But not even the dusky lighting can hide his dilemma. His erection tents through his thin shorts, making me wonder if he’s wearing anything else beneath them.
We meet silently, everything spoken in one heated gaze.
His fingers rake into my hair, pulling me in for a soft but heated kiss right there in the hallway. My hand slides down his side, only stopping when it finds his cock. I squeeze it through the thin fabric and nearly let a moan loose.
I’ve been dreaming about him being inside me for a very long time, but those dreams have intensified since our first kiss.
After the fingering incident on the bridge, I can’t even sleep. I want him so badly.
“I want you,” I whisper. “Tonight. No more waiting.”
He looks back at his door, as if thinking it through. I wish I could promise to be quiet. But honestly, I don’t know if I can be. I’ve wanted this for way too long. “Give me five minutes,” he whispers against my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck. “Meet me out back.”
I slip downstairs while he disappears into his room. Maybe I should grab a sweatshirt or something, but I’m not worried about being cold. I have a couple of silent minutes to think this through. To remember being caught on the bridge by the mayor. Had she realized what we were really up to, I’d have been fired. She dropped more than one not-so-subtle hints during the meeting at JAX’S BAR AND GRILL to discuss the ceremony. Isthisreallyworthit?
I think back to all my sisters and what they risked for love. Not one of them has discouraged me from pursuing Harrison. I’m the only one who was remotely concerned about the business side of things. For a good reason.
But I want this too badly.
I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t give in, at least this one night. Being with Harrison feels right in a way nothing ever has before.
“C’mon,” Harrison says in a low voice when he joins me outside, taking my hand. We follow a dimly lit path into the trees. The moon is barely a sliver, which is great for sneaking away but not so great
for seeing. But I trust Harrison fully, confidently allowing him to lead the way.
“Here,” he says when we reach a clearing. The creek glistens against the sliver of moon, revealing a secluded bend. Harrison spreads a blanket on the grass and sits down, pulling me to him.
We don’t speak.
We become one.
His warm, hard body covers mine as we tangle into each other on the blanket. Our lips can’t keep off one another. In the passionate tumble, our clothes go missing. We’re skin against skin. “I didn’t bring a condom,” he says, heavy regret in his voice.
“Good,” I say, reaching between us to guide him home. “Now get inside me already before I explode.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Harrison. I want you. I needyou.”
He kisses me deeply, but resists when I try to push him inside. “I need you to understand something before this happens.” His voice is heated but serious. “Once I’m inside you, everything will change. You’ll be mine and only mine. I won’t share you with another man, Adriana. Not now. Not ever.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“You have to be sure. Because once I claim you, you’re it for me.”
His words send shivers of delight throughout my entire body I can’t blame on the cool night breeze. We have a lot to figure out, but I’m not worrying about a single one of them tonight. “Claim me, Harrison.” I lift my hips and he slides into my slick channel, filling me in one powerful thrust. I cry out, both at the shock of his massive cock entering me so quickly, and the pleasure of him finally inside me after all the years of pining.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m better than okay,” I say with a laugh. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
Before he can ask me to explain that potentially embarrassing comment, I pull his head down to me and kiss him. He pulls out slowly and thrusts back into my channel. Everything about this big,
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"Oh, boy!" he giggled. "The expression—on your—face—!" Then he was away again, leaning across the window-sill weakly, shaking with laughter.
Jerry Gilroy tiptoed quietly up behind him. A quick movement and he lowered the window until it was against Chet's back.
The practical joker suddenly stopped laughing, and turned his head.
"Hey! What's the matter?" he inquired.
He was pinned down by the window and he could not see Jerry picking up the flat piece of board that had been the instrument of torture a few minutes previously. But a suspicion of the truth came to him, and a roar of laughter from the other boys warned him that vengeance was due. It came.
Smack!
Chet Morton wriggled and squirmed, but he was pinned helplessly by the weight of the window against his shoulders, and he presented a more tempting target for Jerry's ministrations with the flat stick, and a more stationary target as well, than Jerry had presented for him.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
He roared with pain and, helpless as he was, danced vainly on the floor in his efforts to escape. Jerry Gilroy belabored him across the rear with that stinging stick until his desire for revenge had been fully satisfied, while the other boys howled with glee at the manner in which the tables had been turned.
Finally, when Jerry tossed the flat stick away and joined the others in their laughter, Chet managed to raise the window and escape.
"Can't see what you're all laughing at," he grumbled, as he sat down carefully on a near-by box. Then he rose hurriedly and rubbed the tender spot.
"He laughs best who laughs last," quoted Jerry Gilroy.
"Guess I've got to get home," announced Biff, a moment later, and soon he and the others were on their way, dodging through the rain. Then Frank and Joe put the barn in order and went into the house. They felt particularly carefree and never dreamed of the news they were to hear or of how it was to affect them and their chums.
CHAPTER III
A S T
"I am sure my man is in Chicago. I know for a fact that he went West, and the Windy City would naturally be his hiding place."
Fenton Hardy tapped the library table reflectively with a pencil. Mrs. Hardy put aside the magazine she had been reading.
"Are you going to follow him?"
"I'll trail him right to the Pacific Coast if necessary."
Frank and Joe Hardy, who had been standing by the window, disconsolately watching the rain streaking down the pane, looked around.
"Who is he, dad?" asked Frank.
"One of the cleverest and most daring bank robbers in the country. I've been after him for almost a year now and it's only been within the last few weeks that I've ever come anywhere near catching him."
"What's his name?"
Fenton Hardy laughed. "I've made you curious, eh? Well, this chap has about a dozen names. He has a new alias every week, but so far as the police are concerned he's known as Baldy Turk, because he's as bald as an egg. He and his gang held up a bank in a small New Jersey town about a month ago and got away with over ten thousand dollars in broad daylight. That's how I managed to get
trace of him again. Even the police didn't know Baldy Turk was mixed up in the affair because he was wearing a wig that day, but he double-crossed one of the members of his gang out of his share in the loot."
"And that fellow told the police," ventured Joe.
Mr. Hardy shook his head.
"Not the police He didn't dare go near them because he was wanted for two or three robberies himself. But he came to me and tipped me off as to where Baldy Turk could be found. He wanted revenge. I went to New York, where Baldy was in hiding; but evidently some of his friends knew I was on his trail and he disappeared before I could lay my hands on him."
"Where did he go then?" asked Frank, with interest.
"He hid out on Long Island for a while, but I managed to pick up the trail again and went after him, but he was too smart for me. He got away in a fast automobile and took a couple of shots at me in the bargain. I managed to get the number of the car and traced it to Manhattan and later found that Baldy Turk had left the East altogether. He bought a ticket to Cleveland, doubled back to Buffalo and managed to shake me off."
"What makes you think he is in Chicago?"
"Because another member of his gang went to Chicago just a week ago. So I imagine Baldy Turk was to meet him there. In any case, Chicago is a thieves' paradise, so it seems logical that Baldy Turk would make for there."
"And you're going after him! Gee, I wish I could go," declared Joe.
Fenton Hardy smiled.
"It's no job for a boy," he said. "Baldy Turk is a bad man with a gun. If I ever do find him it will take some maneuvering to get the handcuffs on him, I'll tell you."
"You'll be careful, won't you, Fenton," said Mrs. Hardy anxiously. "I'm always frightened whenever I know you're after one of these
desperate criminals."
"I'll be as careful as I can, Laura," promised her husband; "but in my business I have to take chances. Baldy Turk knows I'm after him and he doesn't mean to be caught if he can help it. He or any of the men in his gang would shoot me on sight. There's a standing reward of five thousand dollars out for Baldy and, besides, the Bankers' Association have promised me a handsome fee if I can get him behind the bars and break up the gang."
"I won't rest easy in my mind until you're back home safe," Mrs. Hardy declared.
"Don't worry about me," replied her husband, going over to her and patting her shoulder reassuringly. "I'll get back safely all right, and Baldy Turk will be in jail if I have to chase him all over the States. The boys will look after you while I'm away."
"You bet we will!" Frank promised.
"I'm sorry it keeps you from going on that motorboat trip with Chet and Biff," Mr. Hardy remarked. "Perhaps you can arrange another jaunt after I come back."
"We're not worrying about that, dad. We don't mind staying at home."
"That's the spirit," approved their father.
"When do you leave?" Frank asked.
"I'm waiting for a letter from a friend of mine in Chicago. If he writes as I expect he will write, I should be away by the day after tomorrow."
"Then let Baldy Turk watch his step!" observed Joe.
"We'll both have to watch our step," answered Mr. Hardy, smiling. "If I don't get him, he'll probably get me."
"Well, I'm betting on you."
Mrs. Hardy shook her head doubtfully, but said nothing. She knew that her detective husband had escaped death at the hands of desperate criminals many times in the course of his career and there
seemed to be no reason why he should not bring Baldy Turk to book just as he had captured many other notorious criminals in the past; but this time she had a vague premonition of danger. She knew that her husband would laugh at her fears if she expressed them, so she remained silent.
The rain had stopped, as Frank noticed when he glanced out the window again.
"It's clearing up. What say we go out for a spin, Joe?"
"Suits me."
"Let's go."
"Don't be late for supper," warned Mrs. Hardy, as the boys started out the door.
"We'll be in time," they promised, and the door closed behind them.
The Hardy boys went out to the shed where they kept their motorcycles. Both Joe and Frank had machines, given to them by their father, and in their spare time they spent many hours speeding about the roads in and around Bayport.
Their native city had a population of about fifty thousand people and was on the Atlantic coast, on Barmet Bay. There were good roads along both northern and southern arms of the bay, besides the State highway and the numerous country roads that led through the farming country back of Bayport.
Chet Morton, whose father was a real estate dealer with an office in the city, lived on a farm some distance off the road along the north arm of the bay, Chet making the daily journey to school and back in a roadster that had been given to him by his father. Chet was as proud of his roadster as the Hardy boys were proud of the motorboat that they had bought from the money they had received as reward for solving the Tower Mystery
"Where shall we go?" asked Joe, as the Hardy boys rode out of the lane.
"Let's go to the Morton farm and see Chet."
"Good idea. I wonder if he's able to sit down yet," replied Joe, alluding to Chet's practical joke earlier in the day.
The motorcycles roared and spluttered as the boys sped along the gleaming pavements of the city. They rode through the main streets, threading their way easily through the traffic until at last they were at the outskirts of Bayport. Finally they left the city behind and reached the road leading toward the Morton farm. The leaves of the trees were still wet with rain and the luxuriant grass by the road-side glistened with the heavy drops. The air was cool and sweet after the storm. The roads had dried quickly, however, and the boys experienced no inconvenience.
They reached the Morton farmhouse in good time and Chet's sister, Iola, answered their knock. Iola was a pretty girl of about fifteen, one of the few girls at whom Joe Hardy had ever cast more than a passing glance. He lowered his eyes bashfully when she appeared in the doorway.
"Chet just left in the car about ten minutes ago," she said smilingly, in answer to their inquiry. "It's strange you didn't meet him."
"He probably went by the other road. We'll catch up to him."
"Won't you come in?"
"N-no thanks," stammered Joe, blushing. "Guess we'll be going."
"Oh, do come in," said Iola coaxingly. "Callie Shaw is here."
"Is she?" Frank brightened up at this intelligence, and at that moment a brown-eyed, dark-haired girl about his own age appeared in the hall.
"Hello!" she called, smiling pleasantly, and displaying small, even teeth of a dazzling whiteness.
"Let's go," muttered Joe, tugging at Frank's sleeve. He was incurably shy in the presence of girls, especially Iola.
But Frank did not go just then. He chatted with Callie Shaw for a while, and Iola tried to make conversation with Joe, whose answers were mumbled and muttered, while he inwardly wished he could talk
as freely and without embarrassment as his brother At length Frank decided to go and Joe sighed with relief. The girls bade them goodbye after again urging them to come inside the house, and the boys departed.
"Whew!" breathed Joe, mopping his brow. "I'm glad that's over."
Frank looked at him in surprise.
"Why, what's the matter? I thought you liked Iola Morton."
"That's just the trouble—I do," answered Joe mysteriously, and Frank wisely forbore further inquiry.
They mounted their motorcycles again and rode down the lane, out to the road. Hardly had they gone more than a few hundred yards, however, than Frank suddenly gestured to his brother and they slowed down.
Pulled up beside the road was an automobile, and as the boys drew near they saw that three men were in the car. The men were talking together and they looked up as the boys approached.
Something in the attitude of the trio aroused Frank's suspicions, and this prompted him to ride slower. There seemed no apparent reason why the men should have pulled their car up beside the road, for they were not repairing a breakdown and they were still a little distance from the lane leading to the Morton farmhouse. Then, as the motorcycles slowly passed the car and the three men sullenly regarded the two boys, Frank suppressed an exclamation of surprise.
The three men in the car were the three men who had pursued the boys in the motorboat earlier in the day!
Frank and Joe drove past, conscious of the scrutiny of the unsavory trio in the automobile. The men did not speak, although Frank noticed that one of them drew his cap down over his eyes and muttered something to one of his companions.
When they had gone by, Joe glanced back. The man were paying no further attention to them, but were leaning close together, evidently having resumed their interrupted conversation. There was something
stealthy and secretive in their demeanor that was far from reassuring.
"Did you recognize them?" asked Frank, when they were out of earshot.
"I'll say I did! The same gang that followed us in the motorboat."
"I wonder what they're up to."
"Up to no good, by the looks of them."
"That's a queer place to park their car—so close to the Morton farm, too."
"They look like a bad outfit to me," remarked Joe.
"I'd like to know more about them. There was something funny about the way they chased us in the boat. And don't you remember how closely they looked at Chet and Biff? It seems funny to see them hanging around the farm."
"Well, they haven't done us any harm. I suppose it's none of our business—but I'd sure like to know what their game is. Let's find Chet and tell him."
They increased their speed and before long overtook Chet Morton on the shore road. But Chet laughed at their fears.
"You're too suspicious," he said. "They had probably just stopped to fix a tire when you came along. However, we'll go back to the farm and see if they're still on hand."
But when the boys drove back to the Morton farm they found that the mysterious trio in the automobile were no longer in sight.
CHAPTER IV
T S -O
On Monday, Chet Morton and Biff Hooper set out on their motorboat trip up the coast. They were well equipped with provisions and supplies and had been up since six o'clock that morning getting the boat in readiness.
The Hardy boys went down to the dock to bid them good-bye, and although they chaffed the adventurers and laughed with them, neither Frank nor Joe could repress the disappointment they naturally felt at being unable to go with their chums.
Chet was busy stowing away the last of the provisions and Biff was tuning up the engine when the Hardy boys arrived. In a few minutes Tony Prito, at the helm of his own motorboat, arrived on the scene with Jerry Gilroy and Phil Cohen. Then, down the dock, came tripping Iola Morton and Callie Shaw.
"Hail, hail, the gang's all here!" roared Chet, when he saw them.
"Oy, what a fine day you pick for your trip!" exclaimed Phil Cohen, looking up at the clouds. For the sky was overcast and there was no sun.
"That's all right," answered Chet. "We made up our minds to start today and we'd start if there was a thunderstorm on."
"Brave sailors!" mocked Callie Shaw, with a smile.
"How long will you be away?" shouted Frank.
"Until the grub runs out."
"That should be about next December," ventured Iola. "It looks to me as if you have enough provisions there to last you a year."
"Not with Chet Morton on the trip, we haven't," grunted Biff Hooper, looking up from the engine. "We'll be lucky if it lasts us a week. I've seen him eat before."
"I'll do my share," Chet promised modestly.
"We should have had the City Band down to give you a proper sendoff," Joe Hardy remarked.
"It doesn't matter We'll forgive you this time. But be sure and have the band here to welcome us when we come back."
"You'll be back by to-morrow night," declared Iola. "I know you! Why, I'll bet you'll both be scared green when darkness comes on. One night will cure you of sleeping in the open."
"Rats!" replied Chet good-naturedly. "I'm not afraid of the dark."
"Cut out the jawing and let's get started," said Biff Hooper "No use hanging around here. Are you ready?"
"All set!"
"Let's go then. Good-bye, everybody."
"Good-bye!" every one shouted. Frank and Joe cheered, the girls clapped their hands, and the Envoy slowly moved away from the dock, with Chet Morton and Biff Hooper waving to their chums.
Tony Prito swung his motorboat around.
"I'll go along with you to the end of the bay," he shouted. Frank glanced at Joe.
"Why didn't we think of that?"
"It isn't too late yet. Let's get the boat."
"Would you and Iola care to come?" said Frank to Callie. "We're going to get our boat and follow them down the bay a bit."
"Oh, that'll be great!" exclaimed Callie. "I'd love to go. Wouldn't you, Iola?"
"I'll say!" Iola replied, slangily.
They hurried down from the dock and went along the roadway back of the boathouses until they came to the boathouse where Frank and Joe kept their craft.
In a few minutes, the Sleuth was nosing its way out into Barmet Bay, but already Chet and Biff were a considerable distance in the lead.
"We'll have to step on it," said Joe.
"We'll catch them, all right. There isn't a boat on the bay can beat the Sleuth."
The engine roared and the boat seemed fairly to leap out of the water as it plunged forward. Spray dashed over the bows as the fleet launch headed out in pursuit of the others.
Frank glanced at the sky.
Biff and Chet had certainly chosen a bad day for their departure. The sky had been none too promising at dawn, but now it was clouding over with every promise of a downpour, and there was a heavy cloud on the horizon. Then, too, there was a suspicious absence of wind, and the bay was in a flat calm.
"I wish they'd picked some other day," he remarked quietly to Joe. "It looks like squally weather out at sea."
"I don't like the looks of the sky myself. However, they're away, so there's no use saying anything. It might alarm Iola."
The Sleuth was rapidly overhauling the other boats, although Tony and Biff were engaging in a spirited race down the bay. The girls enjoyed the swift progress and were laughing with excitement as they saw the distance narrowing between Frank and the others.
Suddenly a low rumble of thunder caused Frank to glance up at the sky again. With remarkable rapidity, the huge cloud he had previously noticed had spread over the entire sky, causing gloom to spread over the bay. A few white caps were apparent on the surface of the water and there was a splatter of rain.
"Guess we'd better turn back," he said, turning to the others.
"Why, what's the matter?" asked Callie.
"Storm coming up."
The girls had been so intent on the chase that they had not noticed the lowering clouds, but now Callie gave a murmur of astonishment.
"Why, it's going to pour! And I haven't brought my slicker with me. We'll be drenched."
"But what about Biff and Chet?" exclaimed Iola.
"I think they'll turn back too when they see what they're heading into," replied Frank. "It looks like a bad storm."
As though in corroboration of his words, a sheet of lightning and a violent clap of thunder heralded the beginning of the downpour. The wind came in from the sea with a violence that surprised them, came whistling down across the bay over a wide line of tossing whitecaps, driving before it a leaden wall of rain.
The two motorboats in the lead were blotted from view, although Frank had seen that Tony Prito was already turning back before the gloomy wall of rain hid him from sight. Slowly, he brought the motorboat around.
The moaning of the wind rose in volume. Waves slapped at the sides of the boat. White spray rose above the bows. The sky was black. The speeding craft fled before the oncoming storm.
But the wall of rain swept down upon them with a whistle and a howl. The streaming sheets of water poured from the dark sky, whirled onward by the raging wind. The boat rocked in the tossing waves.
Frank crouched at the helm, his jaw set, his face stern. The girls huddled in the stern, seeking protection from the sudden downpour.
Joe found a sheet of tarpaulin in a locker, and gave it to the two girls, who draped it over their heads, and it afforded them some shelter. The boat was swaying madly as it ran on through the huge waves that surged on every side.
Frank could scarcely see Bayport ahead through the blinding rain and gloom.
"Where is the other boat?" shouted Joe, above the clamor of the storm.
Frank looked back.
Tony Prito's boat had disappeared. Frank wondered how the other boys were faring. He had every confidence that Tony would make land in safety, for the Italian lad was skilful at the helm and he had
iron nerves, but he was not so sure that Biff Hooper and Chet Morton would weather the gale so easily. Biff had only mastered the rudiments of motorboating and a storm such as this was enough to test the mettle of the most skilful sailors.
He wondered if he should not turn back and go in search of Biff and Chet. When he had last seen them they had been heading directly into the teeth of the gale, out to the open sea. Surely they would not be foolhardy enough to go on!
He glanced back and when he saw Iola's frightened face he knew that it was impossible to turn back now, for he was responsible for the safety of the girls and there was grave peril in braving the storm just then. He opened the throttle further and felt the Sleuth respond as it leaped ahead into the tossing whitecaps through the shifting screen of rain.
Thunder rolled and crashed. Lightning flickered across the gray void and rent the dark sky in livid streaks. The waves were tossing like white-crested monsters seeking to devour them. Frank peered through the raging gale and he could vaguely discern the city lying ahead. A few lights were twinkling feebly, for the storm brought the darkness of twilight with it.
The gale had sprung up so suddenly that they had been entirely unprepared. Frank devoutly wished that he had taken heed of the warning given by that ominous sky before he started out in the motorboat. He was greatly alarmed for the safety of the girls, because he knew that the storm was one of the worst that had ever swept over Barmet Bay.
"We'll be lucky if we make it!" he muttered to himself. Then, to reassure the others, he turned and grinned.
"We'll make it, all right!" he shouted, the wind whisking the words away so that the others scarcely heard him.
A great wave broke over the side. The boat reeled as though it had been struck by a giant hand.
CHAPTER V
N W C
Frank Hardy bore down on the helm as the boat heeled over. For a breathless second he thought the craft would be swamped. Water poured over the gunwales. The girls screamed. Joe was thrown off his balance and went sprawling into the stern.
But the Sleuth was staunch. In a moment it recovered, righted itself, and surged on through the storm. Frank breathed a sigh of relief. The engine throbbed steadily and, although the boat was rocking and swaying in the turbulent sea, it was drawing nearer shore and already he could distinguish the line of boathouses through the downpour.
For all its violence, the storm was brief. The wind began to die down, although the rain continued as though the heavens had been opened up. In a few minutes Frank was able to pick out his own boathouse and he headed the Sleuth directly for it. The sturdy craft sped swiftly toward the open doorway, then Frank shut off the engine and the boat came to rest.
"Some trip!" remarked Joe, shaking himself like a dog emerging from the water, so that spray flew from his clothing in every direction.
"My hair is all wet, and I won't be able to do a thing with it," mourned Callie Shaw, with feminine concern for her appearance first of all. In spite of the shelter afforded by the tarpaulin, both girls were thoroughly drenched. As for the boys, their clothing clung limply to their bodies. Frank clambered out of the boat and moored it fast, while Joe helped the girls up onto the landing.
"We're mighty lucky to be back at all," Iola Morton said. "I was sure the boat would be swamped."
"It takes a pretty big storm to swamp our boat," boasted Joe. "Although, to tell the truth, I was pretty nervous for a while."
"I was so frightened I couldn't speak," confessed the girl. "I do hope Chet and Biff turned back. They would never get through that storm
alive."
Frank went to the door.
"No sight of them yet," he reported. Then he peered through the driving screen of rain again. "Just a minute—I hear a boat coming this way."
"Perhaps it's Tony."
"I hope it's one or the other. I couldn't see the Napoli at all after the rain started."
In a few minutes they discerned a motorboat heading inshore. It was Tony Prito's craft, the Napoli.
"Good!" exclaimed Joe. "Chet and Biff should be along, too. They won't start on that trip to-day."
"I should hope not!" exclaimed Iola.
But when Tony's boat drew near the entrance of the boathouse on the way to its own shelter a short distance away, Tony shouted to Frank:
"All safe?"
"Everybody O.K.! How about you?"
"We're all right. Had a tough time getting back, though."
"So did we," Frank shouted. "Did Biff turn back?"
Tony shook his head. "Not a chance. We signaled to him that he'd better come back but he just shook his head, and Chet pointed to the end of the bay. They kept right on going. The last we saw of them they were heading right into the storm."
"Good night!" Frank exclaimed. "They'll be swamped."
"They're taking an awful chance. Oh, well, perhaps they gave in after all. They may have headed in toward one of the villages along the shore. They'll probably be back."
"Let's hope so!" exclaimed Iola. "I won't have a minute's rest until I'm sure they're safe."
Tony went on toward his own boathouse, with Jerry Gilroy and Phil Cohen, drenched to the skin, sitting ruefully in the stern. The Hardy boys and the two girls left the boathouse and were fortunate enough to meet a school chum who happened to be driving past in his car, so they drove home in shelter from the rain. Frank and Joe got off at their home after the chum had volunteered to drive the girls home.
"And I'll make it snappy, too," he promised. "I guess you're in a hurry to get into dry clothes."
"I feel like a drowned rat," declared Callie. "And I suppose I look like one too."
After the others drove away, the Hardy boys went into the house and made a complete change of clothes so that, fifteen minutes later, in dry garments, they were feeling at peace with the world. When they went downstairs again to tell their parents of the adventure they had just experienced, they found Mr. Hardy just snapping the catch of his club-bag, while a packed suitcase stood near by.
"Going away now?" they asked, in surprise.
"Off to Chicago. I just got a fresh clue as to Baldy's whereabouts."
"He's there all right, is he?"
The detective nodded. "I'll just have time to catch this train."
Mrs. Hardy entered the room at that moment.
"I telephoned for a taxi." Her face was troubled. "I do wish you didn't have to make this journey, Fenton."
Mr. Hardy laughed.
"You've never worried about me so much before, Laura. I've gone away on cases as bad as this dozens of times without causing you as much anxiety."
"I know—but somehow I have a feeling that this case is a good deal more dangerous than any of the others."
"I'll be back in a few days, never fear." Mr. Hardy turned to his sons. "Look after your mother while I'm away, boys. Don't let her get
worried."
"There's nothing to be worried about, dad. You'll get your man all right."
Mrs. Hardy shook her head. "You will be careful, won't you, Fenton? From what you've told me of this Baldy Turk I imagine he wouldn't stop at anything if he thought you were going to catch him."
"He's a pretty tough character, but I guess I can handle him," said the detective lightly. "Well, here's my taxi. I'll have to be going. Goodbye." He kissed his wife, shook hands with the boys, then picked up his suitcase and club-bag and departed. From the front doorway they watched him clamber into the waiting taxi. He waved at them as the car got under way, then it went speeding out of sight along the shimmering pavement.
Mrs. Hardy turned away "I expect he'll think I'm foolish for worrying so much about him this time, but I have a queer sort of feeling that this Baldy Turk is the most dangerous criminal he has ever had to deal with."
"He'll deal with him, mother," declared Frank, with conviction. "Trust dad to know what he's doing. He'll clap the handcuffs on Baldy Turk in no time. There's nothing to worry about."
"Well, I hope you're right," she replied. "Still, I can't help but be anxious—"
With that she let the matter drop, and her fears for Fenton Hardy's safety were not expressed again, although the boys knew that anxiety still weighed heavily upon her mind. By evening, however, she appeared to be in better spirits and the boys did their best to amuse her and make her forget their father's absence and his perilous errand.
Next day the boys went down to the boathouse where Biff Hooper kept the Envoy, but there was no sign of the craft. The storm of the previous day had lasted well into the afternoon and there had been no doubt in their minds but that Chet and Biff had set back for Bayport, but the absence of the motorboat indicated otherwise.
"Let's go up to Morton's farm and see if they did come back," Frank suggested.
"Iola was saying that Chet promised to send a post card from the first village they stopped at. They were to have spent the night at Hawk Cove and he said he'd drop a line from there so that his folks would know everything was all right."
Hawk Cove was a small fishing village on the coast and, under normal conditions, Chet and Biff should have reached the place early the previous evening. A postal card would have caught the morning mail to Bayport.
"Let's go, then," Frank said. "If they went on to Hawk Cove and wrote from there we'll know that everything is all right."
"I'm with you."
The Hardy boys brought their motorcycles out of the shed and drove out toward the Morton farm. They made speed on the run because both were anxious to learn if anything had been heard of their chums. But when they reached the farmhouse and saw Iola's worried face as she greeted them at the door they knew without being told that no word had been received from Chet.
"They didn't turn back," said Iola, almost tearfully. "We waited all afternoon and evening expecting Chet back, but he didn't come. They must have gone straight ahead into the storm."
"Did the post card come?" asked Joe.
She shook her head.
"We haven't heard from him at all. And Chet promised faithfully he'd write to us from Hawk Cove. The card should have been in the morning mail. Chet always keeps his promises. I'm so afraid something dreadful has happened."
"Oh, there's no need to be alarmed," consoled Frank. "Perhaps the storm delayed them so that they didn't reach Hawk Cove until it was too late to catch the mail. Or perhaps they stopped off at one of the other fishing villages down at the entrance to the bay. A dozen things
might have happened. You'll probably hear from him to-morrow—or to-night, perhaps."
"That storm was too terrible!" declared the girl. "They should never have gone on. They should have turned back when the rest of us did."
"I guess they didn't want to turn back once they had started," ventured Joe. "Biff doesn't like to admit he's licked."
"Neither does Chet," the girl replied. "They're both headstrong and I guess they thought we'd make fun of them if they had to come back to Bayport and start over again."
"Well, we'll be back to-morrow. I'm sure you'll hear from him by then," said Frank reassuringly. "And if we hear anything we'll let you know."
"Please do."
The Hardy boys walked back to their motorcycles. When they were out of hearing Frank remarked in a low voice:
"I don't like the looks of this, at all! I'm beginning to think something has happened."
CHAPTER VI
M
No word came from Chet Morton or Biff Hooper the following day. Although the parents of the chums tried to allay their fears by assuming that the lads had not stopped off at Hawk Cove after all or had neglected to write, as is the way of boys the world over, when three days passed without further news, the situation became serious.
"They were wrecked in that storm, I know it!" declared Iola Morton, with conviction, when the Hardy boys called at the farmhouse on the third day. "Mother is almost frantic and daddy doesn't know what to
do. It isn't like Chet to make us wait this long for some word of where he is, particularly when he knew we'd be anxious."
"The Hoopers are terribly worried about Biff," Joe put in. "We went over there last night to see if they had heard anything. Mr. Hooper had telephoned to nearly all the fishing villages up the coast, but none of them had seen anything of the boat."
Iola turned pale.
"They hadn't seen the boat at all?"
Frank shook his head.
"Either the boys were wrecked or they were swept out to sea," said the girl. She turned away and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. She was on the verge of breaking down. "Oh, can't something be done to find trace of them?"
"It's time we were getting busy," Frank agreed. "I think we'd better organize a searching party."
"With the motorboats?" asked Joe.
"Yes. We can take our boat. Perhaps Tony Prito will be able to come along with the Napoli and we'll get the rest of the fellows. We can cruise along the bay and up the coast and perhaps we'll find some trace."
"Will you do that?" asked Iola, brightening up. "Oh, if you only will! At least we'll know that some one is searching for them."
"I've been thinking that possibly their boat got wrecked and they were washed up on an island or on some part of the coast a long way from any village," Frank observed. "I don't think they've been drowned. They are both good swimmers and it would take a lot to kill either of them."
"Well, if we're going to go we may as well get started."
"All right, Joe. We'll take some grub with us and count on staying until we find some trace of them. Perhaps two or three days."
A sudden thought struck Joe.
