Making a Splash
Page 12
“Deal.” She held out her hand to shake on it.
He checked the horizon as they drifted inland. The engine was off. They were still in deep water.
With that all-clear, he ignored her hand and pulled her against him.
“I’ve got a better way to seal the bargain.” He tipped her chin up for a better angle, giving her time to back away if she wanted.
She didn’t. She stared up into his eyes, waiting.
Some of the fear that had gripped his chest earlier eased. Alicia wasn’t giving him the boot. At least not yet. He’d bought himself a few hours. And who knew? Maybe he could talk her into one more night.
In the interest of hedging his bets, he kissed her as if she was the only woman in the world. Because for him, he realized, she really was.
ALICIA GRIPPED Jack’s shoulders, the hot, hard wedges of muscle contracting at her touch.
She came to life every time he put his hands on her; it was as simple as that. Her days without Jack had been bland—a black-and-white landscape compared to the vivid, high-definition world her life became when he walked through it. Her senses were on high alert, aware of every nuance around her. The scent of Jack’s soap mingled with the sea air in a fragrance she would always associate with him alone. The feel of his heart beating was like a metronome that set the pace for a whole symphony of exquisite responses within her. Pleasure wound through her, thick and slow, as she slid her tongue along his in a dance she could never tire of.
Time stood still on the deck of the boat. The wind blew by them; the water lapped at the hull. Gulls screeched overhead and the sounds of life on the shore began to drift closer, but none of it mattered when she was in Jack’s arms.
He could fill her world if she let him. Reduce it to moments spent with him. He was that powerful of a presence and she was that susceptible to his spell.
“Jack.” She forced herself back a step, dragging in breaths of clean sea air to cool the fever within.
Her body tingled in the wake of the kiss, every atom demanding she return to where she had been just a moment ago—pressed against Jack.
“Mmm?” He lazily drew a thumb over her damp lower lip, his gaze lingering on her mouth, as though contemplating another taste.
In that moment, she had her first inkling of how hard it was going to be to say goodbye when he left Bar Harbor. It made her want to kiss him every second until then, to fill up her memory stores for a future without him.
If relationships could be based solely on kissing, she would have found a match made in heaven. Too bad they were at odds on so many other things.
“We’d better get to shore,” she said, unable to come up with any solid reason for why she wanted to end the kiss. She didn’t dare confide her fear that she’d lose her heart to him for a second time if she kissed him without a certain amount of discipline. “I don’t meet the owner for a little longer, but he said if I was early I could walk the grounds.”
“We can do that,” Jack agreed, his gaze moving toward shore. “But how about if—while I steer the boat in, you explain to me all the things this property has that you can’t get anywhere on Cape Cod.”
Thankfully, his words reminded her why she shouldn’t allow herself to be swept away by his kiss. He didn’t like the idea of her moving to Bar Harbor, and would resist it for reasons she couldn’t fully understand. Edging out of his grip, she gave a short nod.
“Fine. But if I do that, you have to tell me why it’s so important to you that I don’t leave the Cape.”
“One—the Cape has more tourists.” Jack moved to the helm to engage the state-of-the-art steering system, which featured a joystick. The improved maneuverability made docking a quick and precise process. “Two—you will be happier and therefore more personally successful if you can stay closer to your family and friends.”
As Alicia listened to his list, she realized that he’d told her most of these things already. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to believe his motives were purely unselfish because a part of her still wished he wanted her back. Perhaps she’d hoped he would tell her that he wanted to be close to her.
But as he hit reason number six—something involving her potential profit margin—she realized such a confession was not forthcoming. It had been foolish of her to even dream of it.
“Okay. You made your point.” She helped him tie up the boat now that he had the craft right where he wanted it.
A long wooden pier extended into the water from the inn’s property. Only one other boat was tied up there, but Jack still took the precaution of keeping Keith’s vessel on the opposite side of the planked dock.
“I only want what’s best for you,” he reiterated, confirming how fanciful she’d been to think he wanted anything else from her.
“Well, I want a fresh start and I can’t get that in Cape Cod.” She decided that listing her reasons for this move was a good idea right about now. Faced with Jack’s undiluted appeal, she needed to erect some defenses in a hurry.
“A fresh start,” he repeated as he tied a knot around one of the cleats on the dock. “You make it sound as if you can’t wait to get away from Chatham, and I’m not sure why. You always liked it there before.” He frowned, pausing in his work with the knot. “Did something bad happen there that I don’t know about?”
If the storm cloud on his brow was any indication, Jack Murphy was fully prepared to go medieval on anything or anyone that gave her trouble. The notion made her smile.
“No.” Except for Jack breaking up with her. And technically, that had happened in Boston, while she was at school.
“You’re not trying to teach your dad a lesson for ignoring his only daughter?” Jack stepped up onto the dock and then held his hand out to Alicia to help her do the same. “Because I know he’s checked out on you plenty of times. And that—payback for being an absentee father—I can understand.”
She took his hand as she hoisted herself onto the pier. Such a simple touch. Such an immediate, electric reaction.
Quickly, she withdrew her fingers and stuffed them in the pocket of her hoodie.
“Nothing like that.” She shook her head and then wondered if it had been a mistake not to simply take the easy out he’d offered her. She couldn’t very well admit she didn’t want to be a witness to his dating life now that he was back home from the navy. “I’m just not sure I’ll be taken seriously in Chatham. You know, the prophet can’t preach in his hometown? That kind of thing. Whereas if I move far away, no one will have preconceived ideas about me. I think it’ll be easier to get the business up and running.”
He frowned, his steps slowing as they reached the end of the pier. “I don’t buy it.”
“Excuse me?” How could he have guessed her real reasons for wanting to get the heck out of Dodge?
“Most small businesses have more success when their owner is entrenched in the community. Plus, you’re both well-known and well-liked.”
“But remember, I don’t want to compete with your father’s resorts.” She glanced around the property, which she already knew well from photos.
A tire swing hung from an old oak tree. Tall pines sheltered the main building from prevailing winds. A shed they called a boathouse served as a repository for their limited supply of water gear—a couple canoes and life jackets. Worn Adirondack chairs nestled under the porch eaves. Stone-covered paths connected the various facets of the property, from a rock garden to a fire pit, over to a picnic table near the small patch of beach.
“The clientele you’d draw with a bed-and-breakfast is entirely different from the guests who seek out a resort. That’s not even a factor,” Jack continued, oblivious to the fact that she’d already started picking out colors to paint the Adirondack chairs.
“I should have one in every color,” she murmured, moving toward a broken lounger near the fire pit.
“Ally?” he called, following her over the sloping expanse of scraggly lawn.
“Isn’t it charming?” She ran a hand ove
r the weather-worn back of the cedar chair.
“It’s ready to fall apart.” He pointed to the crack in the seat, apparently taking her comment literally.
“I mean the whole place.” She waved to the rambling structure and the sunlit yard. “Can’t you see it full of families on a summer weekend?”
She could already picture the collection of wooden boats she’d start for the little ones who wanted to play in the surf. Maybe she’d need a wading pool to give the youngest guests a safe place to paddle.
While she was waiting for his responses, she heard his cell phone chime. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose as he read a text message. Was he stressed by whatever note he’d received? Or because he couldn’t talk her out of an idea he seemed oddly opposed to?
“I don’t know why you hate this idea so much,” she observed while he tucked his phone back into his pocket. She jogged a few steps to the tire swing, tipping it sideways to empty the rainwater filling the lower half. “You’ve had a chance to explore the world. I’ve been in Chatham saving my pennies so I could explore some, too. It’ll be good for me to see new things. Have new experiences.”
“I don’t hate the idea.” He followed her to the swing. “Want me to push you?”
“You don’t need to ask twice.” Grinning, she hopped onto the tire—legs through the center, hands on top. She balanced her chin on her hands while she waited for him to push her, admiring the view of the Atlantic. “I hope your message wasn’t bad news.”
She realized she hadn’t asked him about his plans now that he was out of the service. Was he working on a business of his own?
“No. It was Kyle inviting us to one of his games tomorrow. Axel was traded to Kyle’s team this season. It’s the first year they’ve played together since college.”
Kyle played hockey for the Boston Bears. She’d gone to see him once with a few friends from their graduating class, but it was after she and Jack had broken up, so she hadn’t told Kyle she would be there. It had been fun but a little awkward, since her girlfriends had used the outing to quiz her about what had happened between her and Jack.
“In Boston?” She wouldn’t be home that soon, as she wanted to spend a few days scoping out Bar Harbor.
“Montreal, actually. It’s only a preseason game, but one of Axel’s friends from college plays on the Canadian team so Axel and Kyle are jazzed about it.” Jack hauled the swing backward like a carnival ride cranking up. “We should go.”
He released her at the same moment he suggested they attend the game. The resulting whoosh in her belly was as much from Jack’s surprise invitation as from flying through the air.
“We?” She turned to look at him to see if she had misunderstood. By then she was already winging her way back toward him, spinning and twirling as the tire twisted.
“Why not?” He shrugged as if a formal, planned date was no big deal. “I can snag us a private flight and we can grab some dinner before the game. You’ll have to eat whether you’re here or there. We can leave at five o’clock and be back by eleven.”
Another hard push sent her sailing so high she kicked a tree branch with her tennis shoe.
She really had to tell him no. Her whole focus should be buying the inn—a task she’d initiated in part to distance herself from him. So hopping on a plane and jetting off to Canada with him for the evening seemed really counterproductive.
On the other hand, hadn’t she secretly envied him for all those globe-trotting trips he’d taken when she was stuck in college? When would she have the chance to do anything like this again if not with the Murphys? Luckily she had an enhanced driver’s license from trips she’d taken on the swim team, so crossing the border wouldn’t be a problem. And she knew Jack always carried his passport when he was on the water, just in case.
“Come on, Ally,” Jack urged, his voice suddenly in her ear as he caught the swing and brought her to a halt, steadying her spinning world. “I dare you to take a risk. It’ll be a blast and I’ll have you back before midnight. What could possibly go wrong?”
She glanced up at him through her lashes, her heart still pounding from the unexpected ride and the thought of more alone time with Jack.
She could list all kinds of things that could go wrong, including ending up back in bed with him. Or worse, falling head over heels for a man who liked to call the shots.
But once her purchase of the inn went through, there’d be no going back to Chatham. If she wanted a few more memories of Jack to tuck away before they parted for good, she needed to stock up fast. And bottom line, she had as tough a time walking away from a dare as he did.
“I’ll tell you what could go wrong, hotshot.” She wriggled out of the tire swing and stood. Leaning closer, she poked a gentle finger into his rock-hard chest. “You could realize what a huge mistake you made when you broke up with me. But if you’re willing to take the chance, I’ll be your date just this once.”
10
THERE WERE MORE PROBLEMS with Alicia’s dream property than Jack could name.
Staring at a crack in the cellar wall the next afternoon, he debated how to tell her about all of them, since the owner, hungry for a sale, didn’t seem to be forthcoming. Jack had stifled his gut instincts about the house the day before, after they’d taken the initial tour of the bed-and-breakfast. Trying to keep the peace and not “burst her bubble” as she put it, he had left her to take a room in the inn, while he slept on the boat. He’d hoped that after she’d had time to reflect on it, she would see the property’s shortcomings.
Plus, on a personal level, he was doing his damnedest not to push his luck renewing their relationship. She’d agreed to the date tonight, a positive sign that had helped him keep his eye on the prize as he’d retreated to the catamaran by himself the night before. She’d been wound up and had wanted to call her father and brother to tell them about the turn-of-the-century money pit. Jack had given her some space, hoping she would miss him half as much as he was missing her.
And, of course, he’d figured her family would help talk her out of buying the bayside inn that had once belonged to a noted area sea captain. But this morning, when he’d met her for a late breakfast in the inn’s restored kitchen, she’d been as upbeat and excited about the hospitality potential here as ever. The owner hadn’t said squat about the roof, which needed new shingles and had already left water damage in four rooms. The crack in the cellar wall equaled even bigger problems. Since the owner wasn’t cautioning her about the wooden structure’s drawbacks, Jack would have to be the bad guy—at least until she called in a home inspector to really crawl through the place. Otherwise, she might invest a lot of time and hope in a property that just wasn’t meant to be.
His phone chimed in his pocket and he dug it out, glad for a diversion from a thorny situation. Seeing his youngest brother’s name on the caller ID, he answered appropriately.
“Hey, bro. Psyching yourself up for a hat trick tonight?” He turned away from the cellar wall and headed up the stairs to the outdoor entrance on one side of the building.
He hadn’t been one bit surprised when Kyle had gotten called up to the NHL after his years as a college hockey star. The youngest Murphy had excelled in every sport he’d tried, setting school records in all of them. Eventually—after Axel had come to live with them—Kyle had decided to focus solely on hockey. And while the whole clan still talked smack to him on a regular basis to keep him humble, they were all proud as hell of his accomplishments.
“Actually, I took a puck to the face in our morning skate, so I’m not sure if I’ll be in top form tonight. Just wanted to warn you so you didn’t think I’d been out brawling last night.”
Jack winced in empathy as he took a seat in one of the weather-worn Adirondack chairs overlooking the cove. “Ouch. Where’d you get hit?”
“Nose. But I think the break helped straighten it out from the last time I busted it.”
“You mean the last time Danny busted it for you?” Jack had been on ha
nd to witness one of the few times a brotherly wrestling match had drawn blood. “Will you do me a favor and keep that particular family anecdote under your hat tonight, man?”
The knock-down, drag-out had happened right before Daniel and Jack went into the navy. Kyle had warned Danny he was wearing his heart on his sleeve by trying to get himself deployed the second he heard camerawoman Stephanie Rosen had been kidnapped. The comment had led to an uncharacteristically hostile comeback, and before he knew it, Kyle’s nose had taken a right turn. And stayed that way for the past four years.
“Afraid you’ll scare Alicia off if she finds out we’re barely tamed beneath the Brooks Brothers facade?”
Jack tipped his face into the afternoon sun. “I don’t think she’s bought the facade for a long time. But I never fessed up to the whole mess with Christina and Stephanie being kidnapped, since we were keeping Mom’s connection to the Marcels under wraps—”
Kyle whistled low on the other end of the phone. “What happened to all that older-brother wisdom you used to preach about being honest with the ladies?”
Something in Kyle’s voice suggested he wasn’t kidding anymore. He was calling Jack on the carpet for teaching his younger brothers one thing while practicing something else.
“You may find this hard to believe, but you don’t always have all the answers at the ripe old age of twenty-five.” Jack certainly regretted the decision. “Alicia confused me back then. I think I was looking for reasons to set her free. She was so young and I was—”
“Crazy about her. Yeah, I remember. I’ll make it a brotherly duty to ensure she knows all your secrets so you can’t hide anything from her in the future.” In the background, Kyle spoke quietly to someone else before returning to the phone. A woman? Something about the soft exchange gave Jack that impression. “So are you going to lock that relationship down this time, or what?”
But his brain was still stuck on the idea that Kyle might be hiding the fact that he was dating someone.