Anchor

Chapter 1

Gabriel

I wish I could say it was the sexy blonde who'd been wrapped around me like ivy on a pole all night who woke me, but it isn't her sugar-sweet voice blaring through my cell-phone speaker.

"I swear to God, Gabriel, if you aren't there at six o'clock on the dot to pick up Emily, I'm going to the lawyers to renegotiate custody."

"Don't threaten me, Taylor," I say with a weariness now characteristic of all our conversations. What I wish I could do is bark orders at her. It'd be so much easier if I could deal with my ex-wife like I do the men under my command. It would have made being married to her a hell of a lot more bearable. Pulling on a pair of pants and choking down a swallow of coffee from a forgotten mug on my nightstand distracts me long enough so I don't go off on her ass. "It's not even seven in the morning. I know what time I have to be there."

Behind me, the blonde stretches on the white cotton sheets, and I take a moment to admire the miles of tanned skin before I duck out the sliding glass doors leading from my bedroom to my back patio. My dog Rudy is hot on my heels and streaks across the pavers to water the bushes and dive in the pool with a gorgeous view of the beach.

She snorts, and I have to wonder what possessed me to marry her. "That's what you said the last time, and I waited by the ferry for over an hour. This is why we got divorced. You never do what you say you will."

"I told you, I had an emergency. You know I volunteer with the Coast Guard. Search‑and‑rescue missions don't just fit into a schedule." I keep my voice calm and level, but when Taylor's pissed, she's like a spooked Chihuahua—she can't seem to stop yapping.

"Yeah," she says in a tone I have heard way too often over the years, clipped with a dash of bitter. It's about as appetizing as the two-day old coffee I'm drinking. "You can be there for everyone but your family, right? You've got a lot of lives to save, but you keep missing the ones right in front of you."

I sigh into the phone. It's too early for this shit.

Taylor gives a half laugh, devoid of humor. "Right. We'll see you tonight at six o'clock." There's a pause, and I know she wants me to fill it with apologies and assurances, but I'm done with apologizing to her. As soon as the ink was dry on our divorce papers, I didn't look back. "Don't be late, Gabe. Okay?"

There's static, some background chatter, and then a bright, bubbly voice comes over the line. One that melts the frown right off my face and makes the day seem brighter, even on this side of noon. "Daddy? Hi, Daddy!"

"Hey there, sugar plum." My voice warms and the tension eases from my shoulders.

"Whatcha doing?" Emily laughs, causing me to smile.

"Watching Rudy swim." Rudy lurches from the pool to bring me a ball, and I throw it back in the water for him. "What are you doing? Can't wait to see you tonight."

"Can't wait to see you, Daddy," she says and then describes her summer school, her friends, and any other thought traipsing across her five-year-old brain in vivid detail. I could listen to her talk for hours. She's about the only female I can stand for any length of time.

As she chatters on, I amble across the sand-colored, concrete pavers and sit down next to the pool, my cup of coffee by my side. Rudy paddles over with the neon yellow tennis ball clamped between his jaws. I wrestle it from him and then throw the ball to the far side of the pool. He splashes in, ignorant of all of my human problems, and dog-paddles to his goal.

The sound of the sliding glass door draws my eyes back to the house, and I find the blonde posed in the doorway. The white sheet is draped around her body and offers teasing glimpses of her toned legs and ass. And she is toned. Everywhere. I spent many, many hours getting well acquainted with every part of her last night.