Free TimeSlip by Caroline McCall

galactic proportions.
He had monumentally messed up. Ingrid was hurt and drunk and he still hadn’t
told her that they had received orders to return home. Strom cleared his
throat, hoping to interrupt her explorations of Jake’s neck.
    “Ingrid, it’s late. Can we go home now?”
    Ingrid rested her head on Jake’s shoulder, and unbuttoning
his shirt, she began to caress his chest. “Don’t wait up, Strom, I’ll be very
late.”
    His hands clenched into fists under the table as he watched
Ingrid touching Jake. Best friend or not, if Jake didn’t leave the club soon,
he was going to punch him. How could he have ever believed that he could do
this? He had tried to stay away from Ingrid, tried to protect her, but all he
had done was hurt her.
    “Jake, return home now. That’s an order.” Jake stood up
quickly. Relief was etched across his face as he made his way quickly toward
the exit.
    “Where Jake goes, I go.” Ingrid stood up unsteadily. The
club was beginning to sway. She really needed some fresh air.
    Jake was gone by the time they got outside. She had no idea
what time it was and it was beginning to rain. A fitting end to a disastrous
night.
    “Taxi,” she yelled at a passing car, but it sped by her. The
clubs were emptying now and the street was full of people with the same idea.
They would have to walk home. Strom offered her his arm.
    “No thank you,” she enunciated in the clear, precise tones
of someone who has realized that she is far from sober. “Finn, it’s time for a
song.”
    “Lead the way, girl.”
    “What is she doing?” Strom hissed.
    “She’s about to sing very, very badly. I’d say she’s reached
about stage four on the Sorrenson scale of drunkenness. Finn counted the
fingers on his hand. Crying, kissing a stranger, inappropriate dancing—”
    That one stopped the big guy in his tracks. “She danced?
Ingrid danced in there with the naked women?”
    “I kid you not,” Finn winked. “Complete with fan, and I have
the pictures to prove it.”
    Strom looked glumly at Ingrid’s swaying figure. “What
happens next?”
    “Well, it can only go two ways from here, puking or
unconsciousness. Oops. There she goes.”
     
    Ingrid’s head thumped like a bass drum as the events of the
previous night replayed themselves in glorious technicolor in her memory. The
disastrous seduction, the dancing, the kissing and fondling with Jake, and
Strom was there to witness it. Worst of all was the memory of him carrying her
home and putting her to bed. How was she ever going to face any of them again?
    By the time she had a long, hot shower, she almost felt
human. She needed black coffee and a long walk on the beach. Finn was busy in
the kitchen and the other three were sitting on the couch. They looked like
judge, jury and executioner.
    “I’m sorry about last night,” she mumbled.
    Jake was on his feet first, sweeping her up in a hug. “I had
a great time, Ingrid. Feel free to kiss me any time.”
    Jake was a sweetheart, he probably meant it too. Pete gave
her a thumbs-up. Strom didn’t say a word to her, so she left.
    * * * * *
    The long stretch of beach between Sutton and Howth was one
of her favorite places. At this time of the year on a Saturday morning, it was
wild and empty. Ingrid walked on the ridges of damp sand, meandered around the
rock pools and took deep breaths of tangy sea air, the perfect hangover cure.
    Six days. The viking had been in her life for six days. She
had never felt this way before about any man and she knew in her heart and soul
that she never would again. What the hell was she going to do? A gust of wind
blew in from the sea, capturing her hair, tangling it wildly around her face.
When she brushed it away, Strom was there.
    “Can we talk?”
    “Let me guess, Strom. You have a twenty-sixth-century device
that allows you to track where I am at all times.”
    “No.” He shrugged. “I asked Finn.”
    “What do you want to talk about?”
    “You and me,