by Julie Cannon
“Did you have a date?”
“Yes. Rand Martin was my date. He was a cowboy, complete with boots, hat, and a belt buckle the size of your palm.” I chuckled, remembering the tall, skinny cowboy. “Every girl on campus wanted him to ask her, but for some reason he asked me.”
“I’d ask you to the prom,” Limpet said.
“And I’d go with you,” I replied honestly. “I’d probably have more fun with you than I did with Rand.” I tossed another handful of bait into the water.
“What happened? Didn’t he dance?”
“No. Just the opposite. He was a great dancer and loved to dance. But he also had a hard time keeping his hands to himself. I guess he’d heard all the rumors that everybody has sex on prom night, and he wasn’t about to be left out. He had a hard time keeping that thought to himself, if you know what I mean,” I said, raising my eyebrows. Both men snickered.
“Dang, I wish that was how it was at my prom,” Hook added, joining the conversation. “I think the chaperones outnumbered the students two to one. I was lucky to get a good-night kiss.”
Limpet and I laughed. “You’re making up for it now,” Limpet said with more than a little envy in his voice. “So did you ever get to dance with that girl?”
“No, but I did get to kiss her a few days later.” I raised my eyebrows a few times like Groucho Marx, and Limpet and Hook both sat up straighter.
“Really?” Limpet asked excitedly.
“Yep, right on the lips.” And it was better than I ever imagined.
“What did she do?” Hook asked.
“Kissed me back.”
“No.” Hook gasped. “Did you know she’d do that?”
“Not a clue,” I said, remembering the feel of her soft lips on mine. “She tasted like cherry ChapStick and was a really good kisser.” I didn’t share the part where she slipped her tongue in my mouth.
“Wow. Then what happened?” Limpet asked.
“She slapped me.” I could almost still feel the sting in my cheek.
“What?” they said simultaneously.
“Yep, right across the cheek.” I laid my hand on my face where she slapped me. “She called me sick and disgusting and told me never to touch her again.”
“But I thought you said she kissed you,” Limpet said, asking for clarification.
“She did, and very enthusiastically I might add. I guess once she realized who she was kissing, she freaked.” And boy did she ever. “She called me every ugly name in the book, then turned and ran. She made sure I saw her making out with her boyfriend after school. But she was really running from herself, not me.”
“Whatever happened to her? Did she turn gay?”
Hook slapped Limpet again in the arm, this time more playfully. “What rock did you just come out from under? You don’t turn gay.”
Hook was more insightful that I’d given him credit for. “I have no idea. She went out of her way to avoid me the last two weeks of school, and I never saw her again.”
“Jeez, and I thought my first kiss was awkward,” Hook said ruefully.
“So are you seeing anyone now?” Limpet asked. “What?” he said, dodging Hook’s third smack. “I’m just being polite and asking. It’s not like I’m hitting on her or anything.”
“It’s okay,” I replied, and realized it was. I usually didn’t like to talk about myself, but with these guys it felt natural. “No. I’m not seeing anyone right now.”
“That’s surprising,” Hook said. “I mean a good-looking woman like you. And I’m not hitting on you either,” he added quickly. “Unless you want me to?” He was clearly joking.
“Thanks, Hook, but I’m afraid you’re not my type.” I winked at him.
“What is your type?”
“Yeah. What was your last girlfriend like?” they both asked in a chorus of questions while we tossed slimy, wiggling fish into the sea.
“A conniving bitch,” I said without thinking.
“I had one of those,” Hook said, nodding.
“Mine is serving four to ten in McDowell Prison in Massachusetts.”
Both men froze mid-toss to look at me. Hook recovered first and threw his handful in the water, then reached into the box in front of him. “Shit, and I thought mine was a mean one.”
“She wasn’t mean, but she did embezzle one million, four hundred eighty-two thousand, one hundred forty-nine dollars from me. They tossed her ass in jail and I hope they lose the key.” The venom in my voice was clear.
“Shit, Hook. Colette only stole your TV,” Limpet noted.
I decided I should probably keep my mouth shut from now on, but something about these guys made it easy to talk to them. Maybe it was because after this we’d never see each other again. Or maybe because they were completely nonthreatening and nonjudgmental. It didn’t really matter. My secret was out now.
Bert’s voice came over the speakers just below the windows on the bridge. “Drop the net.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Alissa
“Alissa, I’m so glad you finally called,” Marie said. It had been only a few days, but that could be a lifetime if there was a problem.
“What is it, Marie?”
“A helicopter. A helicopter that will come and pick you up.” She spoke so fast I could hardly understand what she said.
“A helicopter?” I asked, her statement not making sense.
“Let me back up,” she said. “Remember a few years ago we did that work for Beckworth helicopter? Well,” she said, not giving me the chance to say yes or no. “Mark called them a few days ago and told them what happened and where you are, and they said they’d send one of their helicopters to pick you up.” Marie made her statement in one long sentence with no breath in between anything.
A helicopter? I was still trying to wrap my head around it. They would come and get me? I could be off this boat and sleeping on my own bed as early as tonight.
“He said if there’s no place to land, they can pick you up in a basket or something like that. Mark asked that I put you through to him as soon as you called.”
“Wait, Marie,” I said hurriedly. “What do you have for me first?”
It was our third call, and she rattled off several things that I really didn’t pay too much attention to. I guess I answered them appropriately because she didn’t ask me any follow-up questions. I kept thinking about the helicopter and the real possibility—no, probability that I’d be off the boat tonight. I’d been here almost two weeks.
I quickly thought back to yesterday when we readied the boat for the catch. I’d helped Limpet and Rock check the nets, and we’d spent most of the day telling jokes and talking smack about women. All three of us agreed we couldn’t live with them or without them. I liked these guys. I enjoyed their company and learned something from them every day. They were a different breed of men. They took pride in what they did, loved their job even though it took them away from their friends and family for weeks at a time, and respected Bert. Bert had said I had nothing to fear from these guys, and she was right. Never once had I caught them looking at me with anything other than curiosity or respect. Christ, Limpet, and Hook still called me ma’am. I worked hard and hadn’t slept this well in—well, I can’t remember how long. And then there was Bert.
Bert Coughlin was the most interesting woman I’d ever met. She was book smart, street-smart, and water smart. Last night at dinner she recited Shakespeare, and this morning she was in the engine room helping Rock fix an oil leak. She voiced her opinion on various topics we discussed but kept her politics to herself. She was strong and confident, a package that was just downright hot.
I tried not to think about Bert as hot, but that was getting more and more difficult. She often worked in just a pair of cargo shorts and a wife-beater T-shirt, her muscles defined under a glow of sweat. Her wrap-around Ray Bans protected her eyes from the sun and the harsh glare of the water. Her skin was tanned from the sun, callused from hard work yet soft to touch.
I had awoken to find Bert sleeping soundly beside me. I couldn’t resist the urge and the opportunity to slide my hand under her shirt and touch her skin.
I would have made a good SEAL or army ranger or whatever other special forces there were because I successfully completed my mission without being detected. Slowly, and I mean slowly, I moved my hand from where it was resting on top of Bert’s shirt to under her shirt without being discovered. It seemed like my maneuver took forever, but when my fingertips touched her warm skin, I knew it was worth it. My heart was pounding out of fear I’d get caught and excitement for what I was doing. I had my head on Bert’s chest, and the rhythmic beating of her heart and the steady cadence of her breathing confirmed she wasn’t aware of my explorations.
Why was this happening? Just a few days ago I didn’t even like her very much. I knew I probably shouldn’t be doing what I was doing, but that didn’t stop me. Many agonizing minutes later the complete palm of my hand was resting lightly on Bert’s hard, flat stomach. She was warm, sending her warmth through my hand to other parts of my body. Without thinking, I pressed my body closer and she shifted, tightening her arms around me.
I froze, because when she moved my hand was now cupping her breast. Oh, Mary Mother of God, it fit perfectly in my hand. Her breast was warm and heavy, and when she exhaled, her nipple grazed the tip of my fingers. I was in agony because I wanted to do more but couldn’t. My heart was pounding so hard I was surprised Bert hadn’t woken. If the roles were reversed I certainly would be awake—wide-awake and more than ready to go. I decided to stop thinking and simply relax and enjoy the sensation of being in Bert’s arms.
When I woke this morning Bert wasn’t in bed, but the sheets were still warm, and I had a moment of panic. I had fallen asleep in that position, and had I still been there when Bert woke? She wasn’t in the galley either, and we’d spoken only a few words before we made this call.
The sound of Mark’s voice pulled my lustful thoughts back to the here and now.
“I’m sorry, say that again?” I asked, unable to keep my eyes from darting to Bert. She was looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“I said give me your longitude and latitude, whatever that is, and Ian Beckworth himself will fly out and pick you up. He said he’d bring his X15 Jet ranger. You know, the one we did the campaign for.”
I did remember and I wanted to forget. The contract itself had been fun, challenging, and quite lucrative, but dealing with the grandson of the founder had been just the opposite. Young Beckworth was in his early twenties and full of himself, like most men his age. I had to walk a tightrope to not piss him off and lose the account by telling him to take his entitled dick and shove it up his tight ass. No way did I want to be indebted to Baby Beckworth, even if it meant spending the next several weeks on the Dream.
Bert was looking at me intently. “I don’t know when we’ll stop, Mark, and when we do, the helicopter will scare away the fish.” I was making it up as I went, but Bert’s nod of agreement told me I was right.
“But he can get you off that boat,” Mark said in just about the same tone Maria had the first time we spoke. When did my crack crew turn into elitist snobs?
“Let me think about it,” I said.
Bert’s eyebrows shot up, and she glanced at me before turning her attention back out the window in front of her.
“What’s there to think about?” Mark asked. I could see his confused face in my mind. It always gave away what he was thinking. He was probably pacing back and forth in front of his desk too.
“Mark, I’ve got to go,” I lied. “The captain needs the radio. We’ll talk in a few days.” I gave the call sign letters and signed off.
Bert’s eyes were on me when I reached above her and hung the radio handset on its clip. “I don’t need the radio,” she said.
“You will,” I said, my thoughts jumping around from this entire conversation.
“You have a Beckworth X15 available to come and get you?” Bert whistled. “I never would have suspected you have those connections.”
“I don’t. My firm worked on a campaign for Beckworth a few years ago.”
“Obviously you made quite an impression. That kind of help doesn’t come cheap.”
“Neither does working for Baby Beckworth,” I said without thinking. Bert’s eyebrows rose even farther. “He thought I was part of the services. Good-looking guy who probably had never been told no in his entire pampered life, especially by a woman.”
“And that’s why you didn’t jump at the chance to get out of here?”
“I admit the offer’s tempting.”
“I hear a but in there.”
“But I don’t want to owe him anything. He’ll expect me to pay up in one way or another.”
“Does he know you’re a lesbian?”
“Therein lies the challenge for him.”
“Wow,” Bert said, shaking her head. “Do you run into that often?”
“No, at least not in the last few years,” post-Ariel, I thought. I’d often wondered how many of my clients Ariel had fucked as well as me. I shuddered.
“Are you okay?” Bert asked, a look of concern on her face. “Maybe you should take him up on it and get checked out. Make sure you’re all right.”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m fine. Just a bad memory slicing through my head.” After several minutes of silence I got up the nerve to ask, “Do you want me to leave?”
Several more moments passed before Bert spoke. “This isn’t your job. You have a life on shore. The coast guard called earlier. They can be here tomorrow.”
That didn’t answer the question and I told her so.
“It’s up to you. We have enough food and water, so that’s not an issue,” she said, no closer to saying if she wanted me to stay or to go.
“Do you need an extra hand even if it belongs to a greenhorn?”
“I can always use one.”
“Wouldn’t you like to have your bed back?”
Finally she looked at me. “You haven’t heard me complain, have you?”
“Would you? Complain, I mean?”
Bert was looking right at me, our eyes locked. Her gaze didn’t waver and neither did mine.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll stay,” I said, just before dragging my eyes away from hers but not before I saw a flicker of desire in her eyes. My heart raced.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Bert
“Man overboard!”
I looked out the window, across the stern. Hook was waving frantically and shouting. I hit the large red button, and the winch deploying the net stopped, leaving half of it hanging from the boom, the other in the water. I killed the throttle on the ship’s engines and threw the gear into neutral. I didn’t want to put us into reverse until I knew who was in the water and where. It was bad enough they were in the water; they didn’t need to get chewed up by the massive propellers. I ran out onto the deck behind the bridge.
Hook and Blow were leaning over the rail, and Limpet and Lefty were running toward the skiff that was secured on the port side. Rock was pointing at something from his perch up in the crow’s nest. Where was Alissa? My heart beat faster. She was supposed to be with Hook today, and the last time I’d seen her she was tossing bait with him and Limpet. My eyes quickly scanned the deck. There was no sign of Alissa. I started to panic.
“It’s Alissa,” Limpet shouted before I had a chance to ask. He pointed to the water off the starboard side. I ran back inside the bridge, grabbed my binoculars, and ran back outside. I saw something off to my right, put the glasses up to my eyes, and started to search. The water was choppy today, making it difficult to keep my line of focus.
Wait…what was…there! There she is, I said to myself as I spotted Alissa. She was caught on one of the buoys that kept the top of the net above the water. Thanks to the life vest I insis
ted she wear, she too was on top of the water, but, depending on the whims of Mother Nature, that could change at any second. Thankfully we’d been moving at only five knots so Dream hadn’t traveled far after I killed the engine, though she was still about a hundred yards away.
Flick was also on the bridge, and I scampered down the two flights of stairs to reach the rear deck. By the time I got there, Alissa was no closer, and I kicked off my shoes and dove in. I was a strong swimmer, so strong in fact I’d gone to BC on a swimming scholarship, and in just a few strokes I was yards closer.
“Alissa, hang on,” I hollered with a mouth full of water.
“Bert?” she said, just loud enough for me to hear.
“Yeah, hang on,” I said again. My arms burned as I stroked through the churning water. For just a second I thought of what it must have been like for Alissa to be in this water for hours. I swam faster. I reached her and wrapped my arms around her, kicking so we both stayed afloat.
“What are you doing?” Alissa said, pushing me away.
I spit out a mouthful of water. “The guys are getting the skiff and they’ll be here in a few minutes. Are you hurt?” I asked, giving the parts I could see the once-over.
“No, but I think I’m caught on the net,” she said.
I looked and sure enough she was. Somehow one of the buckles on her vest was tangled in the top of the net. “Can you kick your shoes off?” The last thing she needed was the extra weight of her shoes dragging her down. She nodded, and after a few seconds she told me they were off. “We’ve got to get rid of this vest too” I said. If for some reason the net shifted and, God forbid, went under, Alissa would too.
“Are you crazy!” she shrieked, panic clear in her eyes.
“Hey, hey,” I said in a calming voice. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here.” I glanced over my shoulder and saw the skiff being lowered into the water. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. Do you understand?”
Alissa looked at me for several precious moments before she nodded. An odd yet warm feeling passed through me at her faith in me, but I pushed it aside to decipher at another time.