THE SEX ON THE BEACH BOOK CLUB

Jennifer Apodaca

Excerpt

Chapter One

Holly Hillbay was the best damned private investigator in Goleta, California, but you couldn’t tell it from the week she was having. Losing her bread-and-butter client, whom she did routine new-hire background checks for, was bad enough. But she knew Brad the Cad, her ex-fiancé, had something to do with that, which made her furious.

She channeled her frustration into her new case—going undercover in a book club. That was what brought her to the Books on the Beach bookstore on a Tuesday evening. Pausing outside the door, she inhaled a breath of the damp, salty air from the nearby ocean. The preppy, probably over-educated bookstore owner Wes Brockman, and the very married Tanya Shaker, were about to have their sordid little affair exposed like a celebrity biography.

That thought cheered her up and she went inside. The ringing bell over the door still echoed as she quickly scanned the bookstore. The first thing she saw was an inviting sitting area done in white wicker with ocean blue cushions. That was bookended by a checkout counter with a coffee and beverage station next to it on her right, and a wall-sized bookcase featuring new releases directly across from the door. Beyond the sitting area were rows of dark bookcases. The whole atmosphere exuded sophisticated comfort where readers could leisurely browse until they selected the books they wanted to buy.

A deep voice from behind her asked, “Can I help you?”

Holly turned around and felt a slap of lust that could have been right out of a romance novel. Since she wasn’t a big romance reader, she was going to have to blame it on the man—he was hot. Sun-streaked brown hair and vivid green eyes set in a face that had a little George Clooney going on. His mouth was full and oozed sensual promises. His jaw wore just enough of a shadow to make her want to run her hand along his cheek to feel the texture.

Oh yeah, he could help her end her long dry spell in the bedroom. She blinked and reminded her deprived hormones that she was on the job. Damn it. “Hi, I’m Holly. I’m here for the book club.” She hoped her week had taken a turn for the better, and this guy turned out to be anyone but Wes Brock- man.

He smiled, crinkling the skin around his green eyes. “I’m Wes. Book club is just getting started.” He held a hand up toward a door that opened on the left side of the store.

It figured. She revised her opinion of the bookstore owner: Sexy as hell, preppy and probably over-educated. Oh, and he screwed married women, probably because he could. Her hormone levels banked down to a mere sizzle. Managing to look past her lust, she saw his expensive clothes mixed with the self-confidence that came with money and success. Holly immediately pegged the bookstore as his hobby and not the career that made him rich and sophisticated.

Tearing her gaze from him, she turned and headed toward the room he indicated. It was about the size of the master bedroom in her condo, and had four long tables set in a rectangle shape. She estimated about eighteen people gathered around it. Thermoses of coffee and plates of cookies were set out on the tables. A brief look around showed her a door that led to a small bathroom and another door that was closed—probably a storage area or office. There were poster-sized book covers on the walls, adding color and energy to the room.

She scanned the more than a dozen women and three men, and spotted Tanya Shaker. She looked just like the picture Holly had of her, shoulder-length blond hair, lots of makeup, and an industrial-strength bra that pushed her breasts up to her chin in her low-cut black T-shirt. She sat with a lifeguard- handsome man on her right and an empty chair on her left.

Perfect.

“Holly, take a seat anywhere,” Wes said next to her. His hand brushed her arm then was gone.

A warm shiver rolled down her spine, catching her off guard. Must be a full moon or something. Clearly her libido had not gotten the message that Wes was a player. She didn’t date rich men who indiscriminately screwed women. In fact, she didn’t date much at all these days. Men were a troublesome distraction from her career.

Pulling her thoughts back to the job, she walked over to Tanya, slid into the seat next to her, and said, “Hi, I’m Holly. Have you belonged to the book club long?” In Holly’s experience, women talked more than men—usually because they mixed up sex and love.

Tanya did the girl-to-girl scan and said, “About a month.”

Holly got to work. “I just heard about the book club. Thought I’d give it a try. Only three men, huh?” There was Wes Brockman at the end of the tables on her right. A guy sitting next to him who was a little older, darker, wearing blue- tinted glasses that didn’t mask the deep suspicion in his dark eyes. Then there was the man on the other side of Tanya, who leaned forward and looked at Holly.

“I’m Cullen. Would you like to use my book?” He pushed the book toward her. “I’m sure Tanya will let me share with her.”

Holly took the book and glanced at the title. “Wicked” Women Whodunit.

Tanya grinned at her. “It’s good. I read it and I’m not much of a reader.”

Holly swallowed the urge to ask what the hell she was doing at a book club if she didn’t read. But she knew why Tanya was there. What really surprised her was how careful Tanya was being. Women usually gave it away long before the men did. Especially the player types like Wes Brockman. They were used to woman after woman moving through their beds and seldom gave them a thought outside of the sheets. “Yeah, I read it. Love those women who go after what they want.” She had actually read the book.

Tanya turned to look the other way. “Me, too.”

Holly presumed Tanya was looking down the table at Wes. A secret lover’s look?

“Holly,” Wes said from his end of the table. “Did I hear you say you read this book?”

She felt it again—that zing as his gaze met hers. What kind of crap was that? It was like a drippy movie moment and she refused to acknowledge it. She focused on her answer instead. “Yes, I did. I guess I’m surprised that your book club picked a book like this.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Like what?”

She knew a challenge when she heard one. This was more comfortable territory for her. “This blatantly sexy. The heroines in this book get caught up in a mystery and are aggressive about solving it. And they aren’t shy about sleeping with the man they choose.”

Cullen, sitting on the other side of Tanya, said, “My kind of woman.”

Wes cut his gaze from Holly to him. “Why is that, Cullen?”

Cullen flashed a boyish grin. “I don’t see why men should always have to chase women. I don’t mind being chased. Or caught.”

Laughter rolled down both sides of the table.

Except, Holly noticed, for the three women who sat across from her. They looked at one another, all three of them wearing tight-lipped expressions. She could almost feel their collective reaction to Cullen. What was that about? What had Cullen done to annoy or embarrass those three?

One of the women spoke up. “The stories in this anthology are not just about sex. They’re about a relationship developing when a man and woman are thrown together in mysterious circumstances.”

“Very well stated, Nora,” Wes said.

Holly looked at Nora, seeing a woman who had home- dyed brown hair, brown eyes, and a gentle manner. Maybe she’d been a romantic when she was younger and still believed just a little bit.

The woman next to Nora said, “The men just want sex.”

“That’s a little harsh, Maggie,” Wes answered.

Maggie wore a tailored suit and constantly checked her cell phone—probably because she was text-messaging. She glared at Cullen before she dropped her gaze to her cell phone.

All kinds of undercurrents were going on in this book club, the kinds of undercurrents that usually had to do with sex. Was this a book club or a sex club? The women all seemed pretty easygoing with Wes. It was Cullen who was causing reactions.

And guess who was sitting next to Cullen? Had Holly’s client, Tanya’s husband Phil, been wrong about who Tanya was doing the sheet tango with?

Just as an awkward silence was ready to engulf the room, Wes tossed out another question. “Does murder break down social expectations and up the stakes so that the characters are more likely to come together sexually?”

The man was smooth. Holly snorted and looked up at Wes.

He asked, “Did you say something, Holly?”

What did she care? She was here to do a job and when it was done, she would never see these people again. So she told the truth. “That’s crap. It’s lust, pure and simple. Lust has been around for centuries. Women feel lust, too.”