by Laura Drewry
“You don’t know what it’s like, Kate. When people find out you have a fear or phobia, they generally fall into one of two camps. In Camp A are the people who think you need to be protected from that fear, so they smother you with kindness, doing everything they can to shelter you and keep you as far away from it as possible. The people in Camp B insist they can cure you of it; they’re the ones who get up in your face and start pushing you to do things you’re not ready to do.”
“Not everybody’s like that.”
“No,” Jessie conceded with a smile. “Not all, but outside of you guys here, everyone else who knows has fallen into one of those categories.”
“Which camp did you think Sam would fall into?”
“I had no idea, and that’s what worried me. One more reason I didn’t tell him.”
“So how did you leave it when you moved back here, then? What excuse did you give for not wanting to see him anymore?”
Jessie pulled her feet up onto the chair and tucked her knees under her chin.
“I told him I needed to put all my energy and focus into getting this place up and running again, and he was heading down to the Gulf to scout out locations anyway, so we just sort of…left it.”
“But—hang on—before you started to say something about how you would have ended it anyway. Why?”
Jessie lifted her hands a little, then let them fall to the armrests. “Maybe I just hadn’t given it enough time, but it never felt like I was falling hard for him, you know? I liked him, but when I look at you and Liam, I know I never felt that way with Sam.”
“But surely you and he…?” Kate’s brow lifted, but she didn’t finish her question. She didn’t have to.
“Eventually, sure,” Jessie said, shrugging slowly. “But it took me a while to get there with him.”
“Hmm. Are you still friendly with him?”
“Yeah, I still hear from him once in a while.”
“Define ‘once in a while.’ When was the last time you heard from him?”
“I don’t know, two or three weeks ago, I guess.” Jessie couldn’t help but smile. “He sent me a picture of him with this huge leatherback turtle he and his crew came across. I think I still have it if you want to see it.”
“Two or three weeks,” Kate repeated, completely ignoring any mention of the turtle. “Okay. So not stalker-ish, but it’s possible that he’s still got a thing for you. Were you upset when it ended?”
“Honestly?” Jessie cringed a little. “Not as much as I thought I should be, if that makes any sense. I mean, we had a pretty good time together, but it was only a few months, Kate; it wasn’t like we were the love of each other’s lives or anything.”
“That doesn’t always happen overnight, Jessie; sometimes it takes time. And if he’s kept in touch, maybe he’d been hoping that’s where you were headed. Has he ever said he’s still interested?”
“No, and I’m sure that once he gets here and finds out what a lunatic I am, it won’t really matter anymore, will it?” A quick rush of panic washed over her. “Oh my God, you don’t think it’ll ruin things for the Buoys, do you?”
“How could it ruin anything? So he finds out that you don’t go in the water—big deal. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Jessie snorted quietly, hoping Kate couldn’t tell how many ridiculous and unlikely reasons were now streaking through her brain.
“Look,” Kate said, shaking her head. “The producer I spoke to told me Sam had already asked her to feel us out about filming here, but I called her before she had time to call us. I just assumed he was keen to get out on the boat with the fish whisperer, but I guess it’s you he’s keen on seeing, not Finn.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. You know how guys are about fishing—they’d give up a kidney for a good day out on the water. And if that day includes going out with someone like Finn—and Liam—it’s unlikely Sam has anything else on his mind.”
“Yeah.” Kate chuckled, low and suggestive. “I’d give up a kidney, too, to get Liam alone on a boat.”
“Easy, now. I was talking more about the fact he’s a former major-league pitcher…and people love athletes….Any of that ringing a bell?” Smirking, Jessie waved her hand in front of Kate’s face. “Hello? Bueller?”
“Whew.” Kate waggled her eyebrow and grinned. “Sorry, just having a little moment there.”
“Yeah, I gathered that.”
“Anyway,” Kate said, “Hooked is coming next month regardless, and, sure, if we can work it so they come back every year, more’s the better, but that has nothing to do with whatever is or was going on between you and Sam. I bet he won’t even care that you don’t go in the water, and if he does, then he can piss off. Or…”
“Or what?”
Kate hesitated, tipping her head from side to side.
“Or maybe you should think about finally learning to swim. Don’t look at me like that—I’m not going to shove you off the end of the dock, and I’m not saying you need to take up white-water rafting, but maybe it’s time you worked through that fear so you can at least try to get in the water. For you, I mean, not for Sam or anyone else.” Her grin widened as she cocked her eyebrow. “Then again, it’s not some schmuck we’re talking about here, Jessie. It’s Sam freaking Ross.”
“Right, because that makes all the difference.” Jessie tried to laugh it off, but Kate’s words just kept echoing in her ears.
At least try to get in the water.
Every time the words replayed in her head, Jessie’s brain threw up the same flat-out rejection it did every time she’d even remotely considered the idea—and she’d considered it hundreds of times over the years. Hell, just this past spring she’d started to consider it again, and then—
“Sorry to interrupt.” Olivia Shaw’s voice from the open doorway made them both jump a little, and yet Jessie had never been happier for an interruption.
“No problem. What’s up?”
“First off, if I heard that right, you and Sam Ross are—”
“They’re not,” Kate interrupted. “They used to be.”
“What happened? Did he cheat?”
“No!”
“Did you?”
Irked that Olivia would even suggest a thing, Jessie clicked her tongue. “Seriously?”
“Hey, it happens.”
“Not with me it doesn’t.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Olivia asked, wiggling her eyebrows. “I mean, really, how many Sam Rosses does a girl get a shot at in her lifetime? His smile alone is enough to rock a girl through a big ‘O,’ if you know what I mean.”
“Olivia!”
“What? I’m just sayin’.”
“Hang on a second.” Squinting slightly, Kate held up her hand like a stop sign. “What do you know about hot guys and what their smiles can do to a girl?”
Olivia flicked her long blond hair back over her shoulder and grinned.
“I’m a lesbian, Kate, I’m not blind. And that boy…” She whistled. “There’s a whole lot of good stuff going on there. If you ask me, Jessie, you need to do whatever you can to get yourself more of that.”
She said it so seriously, Jessie almost laughed.
“You’ve been up here for months without getting any from anyone,” Olivia said with a disapproving sigh. “And that’s not healthy. So if you get another chance with sweet-looking Sammy, you need to jump on it. On him. And if that means getting in the water and doing things that’ll scare the fish, then hells to the yeah, that’s what you should be doing.”
It was no secret that Jessie didn’t go in the water, and while Kate and the O’Donnells all knew it was more than just not being able to swim, Jessie had never told any of them why she didn’t go in the water.
“Never mind,” she said, dismissing it all with a wave. “There is no Sam and me anymore, so all of that is crazy talk.”
“But if it turns out he’s still interested,” Kate said slowly, as though testing the waters, �
�I hope you won’t just blow him off. It’d be good for you to have someone in your life, and, let’s face it, if that person turns out to be Sam Ross, it’d be great for the Buoys.”
“Oh for the—” Jessie started, then rolled her eyes when Kate winked at her. “That’s great you guys, thanks. You’ve both been super helpful.”
“We do what we can, right, Kate?”
“Absolutely.” Hands fisted, Kate shook them like pompoms. “Go, Team Sam!”
Jessie shook her head, then pointed toward the martini glass in Olivia’s hand.
“Did you need my help with that?”
“Oh, right. Joe wants a martini, and the only thing I can think to put in it is vermouth and olives.”
Jessie was out of her chair like a shot. As brilliant as Olivia was in the kitchen, she’d proven time and again that tending bar wasn’t anywhere in the realm of her expertise. And if the “Joe” in question was Joe Finder, any hint of an olive in his glass would send him into anaphylactic shock.
“I’ll get it, thanks.”
She took the glass from Olivia and headed toward the bar in the restaurant, with Kate and Olivia’s quiet cheers chasing after her.
“Team Sam, Team Sam, Team Sam!”
For the rest of the night, Jessie tried to focus on the guests, as she always did, making sure they had everything they needed, that Olivia received the meal orders quickly and accurately, and that Finn and his brothers got a bit of time by themselves so they could all go over the Hooked contract before Ronan left tomorrow afternoon.
And yet, no matter how hard Jessie tried to focus on other things, Kate’s voice seemed to be on repeat in the back of her mind.
Maybe it’s time you worked through that fear.
Kate was right; it was way past time Jessie learned to deal with it. But last spring when she’d watched Finn take a header off the dock, every one of her nightmares came roaring back in brilliant blasts of Technicolor—only this time they were joined by a silent scream in her head.
Not Finn!
Instead of running to help him, every muscle in her body locked up, making it impossible to take a single step. Even after he’d pulled himself up onto the dock and proved that he was fine, it had taken her days to completely shake off the terror.
And every day since, whenever she looked at him—which she seemed to be doing a lot of lately—she cursed herself more. What if he’d needed help? What if he’d hit his head and drowned because she couldn’t get her stupid self in the water?
It wasn’t the first time she’d worried about it and it probably wouldn’t be the last, not unless she could finally buck up and do something about it. But could she? After being held hostage by fear for so many years, could she finally put the nightmares and images of her sister’s blue-tinged skin out of her mind?
No, not completely anyway, but she couldn’t spend the rest of her life being held prisoner by it, either.
It was time.
Right. Okay. You can do this.
How often had she said that to herself over the years? Too many to count. But how many times had she actually believed even for a fraction of a second that she could do it?
Not once—not until this moment, right now. She didn’t know what had changed, but she couldn’t waste time worrying about that; all she could do was cling to that delicate thread of belief with both hands.
She needed to do it. For herself, of course, but it would also allow her to be hands-on in the only part of the operations at the Buoys that she’d never been part of before. And that would be a huge help to everyone.
And, yes, it would also help clear her conscience with Sam coming up next month. She should have just told him the truth right from the start, or at the very least coughed it up in an email (the perfectly acceptable way for chickens to deal with everything), but she hadn’t.
She hated that she’d basically lied to him; that wasn’t who she was. And looking back, the whole thing was ridiculous. It wouldn’t make a spit of difference to him now, but she’d feel better if she fessed up, so next time she talked to him, that’s what she’d do.
It wasn’t as if he’d care at this point anyway, right? Unless…what if Kate was right and Sam was interested in getting back together? Jessie liked him well enough, but had she even shed a tear when it ended? None that she could remember.
They got along great and had fun together, but she didn’t do half the things he did, so even if she had been gooey over him, how long could they have gone on?
Besides, Jessie had seen pictures of him with other girls, and clearly she wasn’t his usual type. The other girls were all gorgeous curvy blond bombshells who looked at him with big Bambi eyes, as if he were the reason the sun rose every morning.
Jessie was no bombshell and she was quite happy with that, so why the hell had he stayed in contact with her when she clearly wasn’t the norm for him?
She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory of the last time they’d gone out, how she’d sat across the table from him, watching him grind that piece of steak between his molars until he finally swallowed.
She’d never considered becoming a vegetarian before, but that…yeah, that almost did it.
Never mind; Sam was funny and sweet, and no matter what happened, it’d be good to see him again. Did it cause little bursts of joy in her heart? Not a single one. Did she even consider Olivia’s idea of getting down and dirty with him?
Nooo…okay, maybe, but even as that thought slipped through her mind, Jessie dismissed it.
She was many things, but she wasn’t one to hook up with a guy just because she was feeling needy. Sure, it would be nice to have someone in her life, someone who could make her smile with nothing more than a glance her way, someone who looked at her the way Liam looked at Kate.
But no matter how hard Jessie tried to remember it differently, Sam had never once looked at her like that.
Taking care so she didn’t spoil the head on the drinks, Jessie set them on a tray with a plate of peppered chicken wings and delivered them with a smile to Table 3. Forcing Sam out of her head, she turned her focus to what was going to be the most important thing in the coming days: getting herself into the water.
How the hell was she going to do that? Clearly she was going to need help, because as determined as she was, there was no way in heaven or hell she could do it on her own.
She wasn’t close enough with Olivia to ask her, and as much as she liked Kate, Kate had never seen Jessie in a full-on wig-out, and it was probably best if they kept it that way. At one point or another over the years, all three of the O’Donnell boys had been witness to Jessie completely losing it, so they’d all know what to expect if they agreed to help her do this.
And, honestly, she knew any one of them would agree to help if she asked. So as the three of them sat around the table in the back corner, heads bent low over the contract, Jessie considered her options.
Ronan’s vacation days were up, so he would be returning to his real job in Calgary tomorrow, and Liam was still recovering from shoulder surgery, so he wouldn’t be able to do anything if—when—she started to lose it in the water.
That left Finn.
As if she’d said his name out loud, Finn lifted his head, his frown of concentration morphing into a slow, relaxed grin that made her smile back even before he shot her one of his quick winks.
And just like that, a tiny wave of calm flowed through her. She’d trust any of those three with her life, but there’d always been something about Finn and that quick wink of his that set her at ease and made her smile back no matter what.
Yup, he was the one. Of course he was.
Chapter 2
“A reel expert can tackle anything.”
As they did every Saturday afternoon, Finn and Liam stood on the far end of the dock and waved the last of the guests off. But this time, instead of heading straight back to the lodge for a pint, they lingered awhile, watching as the Cessna lifted off and disappeared, taking Ronan w
ith it.
“When you were a kid,” Liam said slowly, rolling his bad shoulder a little, “did you ever think there’d come a day when you’d actually be sorry to see him leave?”
Finn snorted, short and harsh. “Hell no.”
The textbook oldest child, Ro had always been an overbearing pain in the ass who believed his way was the right way, period, full stop, end of sentence. And yet, somehow, in the last eight weeks he’d spent at the Buoys, the brothers had managed to work side by side with minimal bloodshed. And since Liam’s career-ending injury had brought him home to the Buoys, too, the three of them had forced themselves to try to do what they’d never been able to before: talk things out instead of throwing punches.
Had they been good at it? Not really, but at least they didn’t get into it as often as they used to. And when they did, Jess was right there, wedging herself between them like she always had.
Finn didn’t even try to suppress the smile that tugged his mouth up when he thought about Jess. There she was, just a couple of weeks ago, all five foot five of her, one hand on Ronan’s chest, one hand on Finn’s, forcing them apart while Ro jabbed his finger over her head toward Finn’s face, yelling about…
What?
For the life of him, Finn couldn’t remember, but he sure as hell remembered what Jess’s hand felt like pressed against his chest: strong and solid, yet feminine and…and what?
She’d never been like other women; there’d always been something different about her, something he’d never been able to pinpoint, but up until that day she’d always just been Jess.
And then suddenly, with the warmth of her fingers seeping through his shirt, Finn realized she wasn’t just Jess.
She was Jess.
The second he’d realized he’d been egging Ronan on simply because he liked the feel of her hand against his chest, Finn backed right off and let Ro win.
Even now, weeks later, he still couldn’t believe what that touch had done to him. It wasn’t as if it was the first time she’d ever touched him, but it was the first time he’d ever felt the imprint of her palm sear all the way through his T-shirt and meld into his skin.