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“You’re right.” He nodded slowly. “I’m sure you’ve given this a lot of thought. But I can’t help noticing the timing of the move—me returning home and you lighting out of town before I even had the chance to look you up. Should I take that personally?”
She shifted in her seat, leaning back to regard him curiously. “You wouldn’t have had any reason to look me up and you know it. We were through in no uncertain terms four years ago and as much as it hurt, I did recover.”
Seeing her again, wanting her again, made him wonder if he had. It had been easier to tell himself the breakup had been the right move when he’d had the distance of half a world between them.
“I would have hunted you down sooner or later.” He’d be kidding himself to think anything else. His brother had only hastened the inevitable by setting them up for this trip together.
Their eyes met. Held. This time, it wasn’t just about physical attraction. A wealth of memories – good and bad – flowed in like high tide.
“Can I get you folks anything else?” A perky waitress in black slacks and a white tuxedo shirt prompted, hands ready to clear their plates.
The interruption broke the moment. Alicia shook her head, straightening in her chair as the waitress tidied the table. After a brief debate over splitting the bill that made him grind his teeth, Jack paid and escorted his travelling companion to the door.
They stood in the foyer, rain pounding on the low tin roof of the porch add-on that served as extra summer seating. He could still hear strains of the Spanish guitar music and a few laughs from the kitchen where the extra wait staff milled around on a night with few customers.
“Did you want to try sleeping on the boat in this weather or would you rather look for a hotel nearby?” He’d spent enough time on the water that a few waves wouldn’t bother him, but he wasn’t sure what her tolerance would be.
The only time they’d weathered a storm together while boating, they had pulled into a sandy cove and passed the time making love in the rain.
“I’ll be fine on the boat.” She tucked her purse under her arm to prepare for the sprint down to the dock where they’d tied the craft.
“I can move it away from the slip once we get on board so we’re not bumping the pier all night. It shouldn’t be bad if we anchor farther out.” Sliding off his jacket, he gave it to her. “You can use this to keep the water off you.”
She shook her head. “I’ll just run fast.”
Reaching for the door, she headed out into the storm. Even before they left the shelter of the overhang, the hard rain splashed water on their feet from hitting the ground with force. Not wanting to argue with her, he tucked her under his arm and held the jacket over them both like a tent.
“Be careful,” he pointed to the wet surface below their feet. “The planks turn slick in the rain.”
When she didn’t seem inclined to argue, he relaxed enough to let himself enjoy the feel of her there, at his side. She fit perfectly, her head tipped against his chest. The curve of her hip a natural spot to put his hand.
The downpour pattered loud white noise, confining their world to the square foot of space under the stretch of silk-lined Italian wool. When they reached the spot where the pier connected to the concrete walkway, a huge puddle loomed so he lifted her a few inches off the ground and carried her over it.
“Put me down!” she protested automatically, although he noticed her lip curled at the prospect of landing in the miniature pond he waded through to reach the dock.
“Don’t knock the chivalry, Ally. I could have gone caveman with the carry.” He would rather draw her closer and press her body full-frontal to his instead of hitching her up against his hip.
Still, the contact lifted her enough that her breast molded to the side of his chest, the soft warmth a welcome bonus for his trouble.
When he set her on her feet on the other side of the puddle, she sprinted out from underneath his jacket like a runner off the blocks.
Damn it.
He broke into a run to follow, stuffing his coat under one arm. Annoyed, he started to call out a warning about the planks when she slowed down to grab a stainless steel rail on the stern above the swim platform of the catamaran. Gracefully, she stepped aboard, seemingly oblivious to the driving deluge. Already, her blond hair was drenched to a dripping light brown. Her soaked blue dress cleaved to her body like a second skin.
Reminding him all over again of that storm they rode out on a beach off the Cape. She’d looked just like that in wet t-shirt and jean shorts, her string bikini showing through the blouse until he’d ditched that and everything else to be inside her…
“What are you thinking?” She studied his face, he realized, watching him intently as he came aboard.
Perhaps some of his thoughts showed in his expression.
“You mean you can’t tell from reading the crinkles?” He made an offhanded gesture to his forehead to remind her of the twisted form of palmistry she’d claimed when it came to reading faces. Namely his.
He pulled his gaze away from her to start untying the boat from the dock.
“No.” She shoved her purse under the covered portion of the helm and then stepped out onto foredeck to pull in the bolsters that protected the boat from rubbing up against the slip. “I can’t remember seeing that expression before. But it’s been four years. You were bound to add to your repertoire.”
She wanted to know what he’d been thinking? Well he was inclined to share. Especially since she was moving three hundred miles away from him. Why not put it all on the line during this trip so she could at least see how badly he still wanted her?
