I tear my gaze away only to look back at the sound of Hilary bounding toward me. Behind her, Jake stands with his arms crossed against his chest, his biceps bulging beneath the confining t-shirt. My mouth hangs slightly ajar at the sight of him glistening beneath the afternoon light. Damn, he looks good.
“They want to take us out on the boat this evening,” Hilary says, her hands flapping with excitement.
“Oh,” I say, my face falls in disappointment.
“We don’t have to,” Hilary assures me.
“I’m not sure I want to.” I say as I spray down the remaining kayaks. “I was really looking forward to a bonfire.”
“We can still have a bonfire,” I hear Hilary plead, and I nod along.
“Speak for yourself.” Ryan comes up tossing his arm over her shoulder. “We’re going fishing, shrimping, and crabbing.” He counts the festivities off with each flick of his finger.
I give Hilary a knowing look that there won’t be any way to convince them to have a bonfire. Hilary elbows Ryan in the ribs, and he grunts. “I mean, yeah. We can have a bonfire. It’s not like Jake and I just got back from roughing it. We’d love to go have a fire and sit on a beach.” Sarcasm claws at his throat.
“Ugh, fine,” I give in. “But I’m bringing beer and relaxing.”
“Deal,” Ryan says. “I need a shower. Do you guys want to meet back down here in an hour?”
“Sure,” Hilary says, clapping her hands with excitement. I finish spraying down the kayaks and notice Jake keeping his distance. His eyes trailing every move I make with reverence and demand. His defined brows creased above his eyes cast shadows across his face, an action which should cause any woman to run and seek safety but instead my body is full of knots and twists of longing and need.
“Stupid,” I mutter beneath my breath. I stumble up the ramp instead of coolly walking away convincing Jake his charm has no effect on me but I digress.
After racing home with Hilary to change clothes and stock up on food and drinks we meet the boys back down at the dock and hop into Ryan’s aluminum skiff. The sun glistens across the water creating diamonds of light in its reflective glow. The bustle of towns people and laughter provides the perfect background noise to the anxiety brewing in my chest.
Close proximity to Jake Davis is a curse and a spell I refuse to be put under.
I step into the skiff, the boat shifting beneath my weight and sit directly in front of Hilary. Ryan sits in the back beside her and has commandeered the steering. I tilt my face toward the sun and breathe in the warmth it provides. I peek over at Jake who hasn’t said much since our return but his silent presence has created a raging storm within me. My thoughts at war with one another; one side arguing the miniscule imperfections he possesses and the other wondering what it’d be like to be caged beneath his rippling biceps.
He looks over me as he unties the last line from the dock, a dangerous smirk dancing across his full lips. My fingers tap against my bottom lip as I attempt to rid myself of all the indecent thoughts regarding Jake.
Like the way his shirt tightens against his chest as he shifts into the boat, the way he subtly groans as he steadies himself against the unbalanced boat, and the way his large, strong, hands run across the rough dock line. I swallow the drool undoubtedly pooling in my mouth as intrusive thoughts insert themselves into my memory like my need to know what else he could handle with such finesse.
He shuffles towards me as he winds the line around his elbow and thumb. My fingers tap more frivolous against my lips as I hopelessly look anywhere else. As he nears, he invades my senses. The smell of cedar and sea salt, the determined furrow of his brow as he expertly wounds the bow line, the sound of his breath falling over me in an easy, careless way, sets my mind ablaze.
Does he have any idea what he’s doing to me? Astonishment washes over me as I eye him again, this time with disdain meeting his perfectly sculpted face and razor sharp features. I frown and the softest chuckle escapes his chest as he bends to whisper in my ear, his voice just above the rumbling of the motor.
“You’re going to want to move.” Chills run down my spine as my body betrays me once more.
“Why?” I ask with more bite than I had intended, my eyes locked on his, expectant to watch him fumble an excuse but there is none behind his steady demeanor.
“If Ryan and I are on the same side with you and Hilary on the other, we’ll flip this thing.” He pulls away, his warm breath leaving a trail of goosebumps along my skin.
I turn to look back at Hilary and Ryan who are immersed in conversation, my brain quantifying the likelihood of what Jake has said to be true and finding there may be reason to believe him, this time.
“Fine,” I move to the other side of the boat so I’m sitting in front of Ryan. I grab a beer from the cooler and pop the cap against the side of the boat. Hilary and Jake grab one but Ryan shakes his head.
“I’m driving. No point in risking it,” he says, and Hilary casts a look of gratitude in his direction.
It takes an hour or so to get to the outer coast but the ride is the release I’d been looking for all week. The warm breeze tangles itself in my hair as the sun continues to radiate across the water. I stretch out, lying my back against the bow and inhale the salt from the sea spray splattering against my skin.
My breathing slows out here on the water away from everyone. The worry of expectations fades away allowing space for peace to evolve amidst the chaos. Another relaxing breath and then… wait, is that a shadow? I break the seal of one eyelid and watch Jake’s eyes maneuver the length of my outstretched body. I lift my head, shielding my eyes from the sunlight, and watch his face fill with warmth, one that spreads through me like a wildfire. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, but I shift my face toward the water before he can see a glimpse of the impact he has on me.
Despite my best intentions, I know he sees the way he impacts me and as much as I wish I could bathe in it, absorb every ounce of admiration he seems willing to give, I’m reminded that guys like Jake Davis aren’t made for women like me.
The heat of Jake’s thigh resting against mine pulls me from the wicked places my mind seems to wander. My eyes peer along the point of contact but I pull away from him, creating whatever space is manageable on this god-for-saken boat, but the contact finds me once more.
When I look down at the places our bodies meet, I notice how he’s maneuvered himself towards me, pressing my body against the side of the boat allowing no point of escape. I trail my gaze up towards his face, and he’s staring at me, seeing how I’ll react to this level of contact but the feeling of being trapped crashes over me in a wave of panic.
“Can you move?” I ask, shuffling nervously in my seat.
“What?” he mouths, but I can’t hear the word he says over the roar of the motor.
“Move,” I shout, still unable to be heard.
“I can’t hear you,” his full lips form the words.
I roll my eyes and turn back toward the water, slowing my breath in any effort to keep calm. I tighten my sweatshirt around my face capturing my hair from blowing in the wind. My fingers drum against my lips and at the sound of Ryan slowing the motor I stand to move spots, creating whatever physical distance possible, for fear if I get too close for too long I just might lose myself in this never ending storm.
Ryan kills the motor as we glide across the water. He and Jake grab poles and begin baiting the hooks. Ryan gives his to Hilary, and Jake gives his to me. I take it carefully thanking him before they bait up the next two poles for themselves.
I count the strokes of line I release out into the water as seagulls and eagles alike come crashing against the water in an attempt to steal our bait.
“Get out of here ya lousy birds,” Ryan growls from the stern. He revs the motor and begins trolling slowly across the bay. The slower speed gives way for conversations to take place.
Jake shifts his body towards me and quietly asks, “What were you saying back
there?”
“I asked you to move,” I say, eyes intently trained on my pole for any sudden movement signaling a bite.
“Oh,” he says, seeming to realize I’m immune to his charm, or at least I’m trying to be. My eyes catalog every crease and line across his concerned face, the way his brows dip low and press against one another, the way his lips purse together as he attempts silence over saying anything more. His mind hard at work behind those gentle eyes.
I rack my mind for something funny to share, a story to lighten the mood but before I can Jake moves to the bow. After wanting space moments before I’d thought this would come as sweet relief but instead I’m… what? Disappointed?
I can’t help but watch the muscles of his body contort as he steps towards the bow to stretch his tanned, muscular, limbs across the sides. He pulls one arm behind his head the other pulls his ball cap down around his eyes, his legs outstretched and crossed at his tanned ankles, the way his–
“So, Jake,” Hilary pipes up interrupting my deteriorating thoughts. “I got your text last night after Samantha popped by the Fish House.”
What text? Why are we bringing up Samantha? I look toward Hilary with a questioning look.
“Oh, yeah?” Jake sits up, his interest piqued.
“Yeah.” She takes a sip of her beer, glancing toward me. “I think you underestimated what she was going to do.”
He sits up, the look of concern riddling his face once more, “What did she say to you?”
Before I can answer, Hilary returns to her conversation with Ryan about the type of bait and the gear he is using in the water, a pathetic attempt at creating privacy out here on the water. My heart begins to pound at the memory of the words Samantha spoke and the wound she tore open.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, realizing I’m on my own. “It wasn’t that bad,” I say, trying to ease some of Jake’s frustration.
“Yes it was,” Hilary butts in, and I whip around to pin her with a glare.
“Talk to me,” he pleads, his large hand patting the spot next to him. I move toward him, losing my balance and plopping down into his lap. I laugh as his hand grips around my waist, holding me tight, securing me from falling overboard.
“Sorry,” I breathe a sigh of relief. “My sea legs are still being worked on.” A bout of laughter invades my senses and I look toward him, my arm still wrapped around his neck, my body pressed against his. His eyes wander over the freckles across my face and my lips long for a taste of his. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip before the familiarity of being close to him rings the alarm bells and I quickly move, taking a seat next to him.
My face is flushed with embarrassment, my mind and body at war with one another over what I should do and what I want. The hammering of my heart begins to slow before Jake asks again, “What did she do?”
I turn to look at him, anger beginning to burn behind his eyes. “She was… Samantha,” I say with a shrug, not wanting to involve myself in whatever they were or whatever they might become.
“Oh my God,” Hilary interrupts. “She was a bitch.” Ryan attempts to hold Hilary back from continuing but no one is a match when she goes on a rampage. “She talked about how she moved here to get away from her deadbeat, cheating ex. Then, that apparently wasn’t enough because she brought up her mom.”
Hilary’s breath heaves as she registers the ammo she’s given Jake and an apologetic glance flashes in my direction. “It was horrid, but I’m not surprised.”
She willingly handed over the ammunition Jake’s been looking for, a method to the madness, a reason for the defenses. Now that he’s privy to my past he’ll think he knows me, that he could change me, but he couldn’t be further from it.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters next to me. My eyes tear from Hilary’s and glance in his direction. His head shaking with disbelief.
“It’s fine.”
“No,” his voice breaks. “It’s not fine.” He looks over the water, his hand draped across his mouth as he deciphers the information he’s been dealt. The profile of his face, angular and rigid, his body frozen and tense.
I reach out and rub a hand along his arm, reassuring him I’m fine, a reminder that I can take care of myself. He watches where my hand grazes across his skin, the muscles flexing under each touch. His eyes snap to mine and I pull back with abrupt force, broken from my trance, I realize what I’ve done.
Seven
Jake
My eyes lock on to where Cammie grazed my arm, the look in her eyes riddled with fear. She tries to pull away, but I reach out and stop her chilled hand from leaving the warmth of my skin.
“It isn’t fine,” I say staring into the depths of her slate-gray eyes.
She tries to laugh it off, but I can see through her calm and cool demeanor. Hilary had texted me last night, saying that Samantha had been a complete ass. I hadn’t doubted it, but I didn’t think it would have been this bad.
I sit up and lean toward Cammie, speaking in hushed tones. “Ryan told me a bit about you on our trip. I had been asking.”
“Why?” She tenses beneath my touch, bracing for the hurt she’s accustomed to.
“Because…” I wipe a hand down my face. “I like you. I want to figure you out.” I nudge her with my shoulder as I release her hand and reel in my pole to do a quick bait check.
“Jake,” she says, caution riddling her voice. “I’m not interested in letting you figure me out. I want no part in whatever you and Samantha have.”
“We don’t have anything.” She gives me a defeated, disbelieving look.
“I saw you two together,” she says.
“I’m not sure what you saw, but I can assure you we caught up that night at the Fish House and that’s it.”
She rolls her eyes and sighs. “I don’t even care. I’m—"
“It seems like you maybe care a little.” I grin.
She laughs with ease but quickly returns to capturing her bottom lip between her teeth. I can see her reservations like walls built up around her. She’s good at protecting herself from others. There isn’t anything I can do in this moment that would prove I won’t be the one to hurt her. She’s distrusting and for a good reason. I just need to show her that I can be…what? In this moment, I’m not entirely sure what it is I feel the need to prove to Cammie.
“So, you dated a real loser, huh?” I ask, watching her head whip back around with a glare. Once she sees me chuckling, she realizes I’m teasing her.
She shakes her head with a smile. “He wasn’t a loser.” She grabs her pole to check for bait. “I never let him in, not entirely.”
I scoff. “It wasn’t your fault he decided to look elsewhere.”
“I’m not sure I agree with that,” she says as she shakes her head, and we sit in quiet stillness for a moment. “My dad walked out on my mom when I was five. I don’t really remember him, but I remember that day like it was yesterday.”
I can see emotion build inside of her as she lets me in, knowing she isn’t ready to open up to me but doing so because Hilary forced her hand. Cammie looks out over the water, the sunlight reflecting off the side of her pale face.
“After my dad left, my mom really struggled,” she takes a deep breath. “She tried to kill herself a few months later. The thought of her choosing to leave me on my own destroyed me.”
She looks over at me, and I can see the emotion building behind her eyes. She smiles. “Ugh, sorry,” she says as she wipes away a tear. My hand rests against her back, attempting to offer her some form of comfort in a time where there’s nothing else to be done. “So when Samantha had said that thing about how she would have killed herself,” she hiccups the word and stifles a sob. I reflexively tuck her into my chest.
This isn’t something I knew. It doesn’t seem as though Ryan knew either by the look of it, his hand draped across his mouth in disbelief. This is what Hilary was getting at when she explained what Samantha had said. She had used the knowledge as leverage against Cammie to sta
ke her claim.
Rage consumes me as I ruminate on the events that transpired last night while I was out in the field. I do my best to control my frustration and not let it get the better of me, but the only thing I want to do is return to Smuggler’s Cove and tell her to leave Cammie the hell alone.
My gaze finds Hilary, and she nods at me as if giving me the authority to feel angry and protective of Cammie. She doesn’t deserve this kind of shit. She’s had enough to deal with.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I nudge my nose against her temple.
Cammie shifts out from underneath my grasp and adjusts her sweatshirt. “It’s fine,” she assures me with a bright smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.
I lean toward her, dropping my head to try and meet her gaze. “Cam—”
“Fish on!” Ryan calls out. He pulls his pole from the holder and removes it from the downrigger. He hands the pole to Hilary who shakes her head and gestures toward Cammie.
“Cammie’s never caught a King,” Hilary excitedly explains.
Cammie grabs the reel and starts fighting it well. She’s a natural. She laughs and becomes enthralled in the moment. The fish must be big as it’s putting up a killer fight.
Cammie loses her balance, and I wrap my arm around her waist, steadying her. Her eyes graze mine with gratitude, but we don’t speak. The look she gives me tells me somewhere behind her walls she wants me to keep trying, so I will. I’m not sure exactly what I’m fighting for, but whatever it is, I know I want to be that for her.
I keep my arm around her waist to steady her as she brings the fish toward the boat. Noticing how my heart pumps harder as my arm rests against her side, I remind myself not to move despite my urge to rest it lower on her hip.
Ryan nets the beautiful King Salmon with a grunt as he heaves it into the boat.
Every Step of the Way: (Smugglers Cove #1) Page 6