“She wants your bank account, Drake,” she spit back.
He pictured Heather’s friends and could see why she’d think that, because that’s what they were all looking for, a golden nest.
“The next thing she’ll do is slip into your lap with big, sad eyes asking you to fuck her.”
Being patient hit the end of the road. “Don’t chuck shit at her when you don’t even know her. I’ve got something to do. I have to get moving.” He disconnected the call and turned his phone off, knowing it would ring incessantly.
Merging into traffic, his temper burned hot. The heavy traffic on the highway didn’t help. Heather’s possessiveness was really starting to bother him and so was her grating personality and unfiltered mouth. He parked in the marina and sauntered down the ramp. People puttered on the dock while staff shuffled about, preparing for a cruise on the more luxurious vessels. The salt air invaded his nose and took the tension from him. He jumped over the gunwale of the Rebecca just as Twila appeared from the rear cabin with a sweater draped over her arm.
“Oh. Hey.” Her eyes rounded with surprise. “Hi, Drake.” She lifted her arm. “I forgot my sweater last night. Your parents said it would be all right to come and get it,” she said nervously.
Man, he should have known better. Twila’s gaze darted toward the steps, and before she could run away, he said, “Stay.”
She halted after one step, looking very wary. “I need to get back.”
His thoughts raced to find a reasonable excuse. “We didn’t finish the tour last night.” The only places he hadn’t shown her were the engine room and his stateroom. He sure as shit wasn’t going to be able to pull off, “You wanna see my bedroom?” without sounding like a class ‘A’ loser.
Her brow wrinkled. “I think I saw it all. Except…”
Crap, she got there by herself. “Engine room,” he spouted. Jackass.
“Ah, umm, I—well.” She broke into a little laugh. “I’m not sure it would mean much to me.”
“Purse.” Great! Now he was down to single words. He knew his mom was full of shit and her purse was at home, but if it worked once… “Mom says she forgot her purse last night.”
Twila shook her head slowly. “No, she had it with her. I remember.”
“Yeah, I thought so too, but she says it’s here.”
She retreated from him, but that also meant backing away from the stairs and a fast exit. “Do you want help finding it?”
The air escaped his lungs with silent relief. “If you don’t mind.”
“’Course not.” She draped the sweater over a deck chair and dropped her purse.
Was he really going to send her on a wild goose chase just to keep her here? “Actually, I don’t think it’s here either. I think Mom sent me because she knew you would be here.”
Her beautiful rose colored lips formed an ‘O’. “I see.”
“I’m staying for a couple extra weeks. If I leave, we—I said I’d teach you about the ship.” Pathetic.
She shrugged. “It’s not that important.”
With Heather’s feelings laid out in front of him, he’d stayed awake half the night digging deep to see if there was one speck of something he should nurture in their relationship. There wasn’t, and he knew it because his mind kept darting back to Twila.
“It is to me.”
It sure as hell was important. To him, it’s all that mattered for some crazy-ass reason. He closed the distance between them and reached for her hand, giving it a gentle tug. “Let’s finish what we started.”
* * * *
At the end of the hallway, he rested his hand on a door. “This is the master stateroom,” he said, pushing the door open.
“Whoa!” she whispered. She wandered into a spacious and very luxurious bedroom. Panelled walls of a deep, warm wood encircled a large bed. Clustered on the right side of the room was a deep cushioned couch with a table. She wandered around the corner to find a sizeable bathroom with a soaker tub of all things.
“This is incredible.” She turned to see him sitting on the bed, watching her, and her legs weakened a little. She shouldn’t be picturing him naked and lying with his chest exposed under crisp, white sheets, but she was. “Do you let other people take the Rebecca out?”
“Only some of the men on my team. I don’t trust her to many people.”
He sat there in an aura of maleness with a blue cotton shirt, comfortable jeans, and his handsome features sucking her in like the Bermuda Triangle. “She’s amazing. You’re—very talented.” She was going to say, he was amazing. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would take to build a yacht like this.
He tilted his head a little and offered a disarming smile. “You’re afraid to come close to me, aren’t you?”
“No. Yes. Drake, you’re making me nervous.” He reached out his hand, and hers apparently was tied to the end of it because she strayed closer. He pulled her between his legs, and held her hands gently.
He kept his gaze on their threaded fingers. “You said we were friends. Friends spend time together, don’t they?”
If she didn’t collect herself, she’d end up like several other women he screwed on this bed.
His gaze swept over her as his large palms gripped her waist. “You’re wondering how many other women have been in this bed, aren’t you?”
She pulled away and quickly strode across the room to look out the window. The water calmed her skittering nerves. “Yes, but I don’t want to know the answer.”
“None.”
“Yeah, right,” she said, needing to get out of here before she surrendered to her base desires and screwed his fool head off. Heather would have her in a headlock soon after that. She sure as heck didn’t need the drama. “A few days ago you were making your girlfriend moan in your mom’s kitchen.” At least he had the decency to look embarrassed.
“And what if I told you I don’t intend on seeing Heather anymore.”
She crossed her arms and shrugged. “I’d say you’re crazy.”
“Why? Because she comes from money?”
“And she’s in love with you,” she added.
“I don’t love her. I don’t even like her.”
“What?”
“I don’t like the person she turned out to be. I let things go on because,” he paused. “Cuz I’m a guy and she, quite frankly, was an easy lay.” He shook his head and laughed. “Don’t know why I’m being this honest with you, but that’s the sum total of what Heather and I had. Truth is, I can’t stand Heather’s crowd or her lifestyle. I should have broken it off months ago, but her parents are actually decent people and her father has helped send clients my way. I think I got trapped into feeling I owed him, and Heather was a poor way of showing my appreciation.”
Oh, goodness, what the heck could she say? “I guess I can see that happening.”
“This vessel is not a floating make-out pad. It’s special to me, Twila. It’s where I bring my family. It reminds me of everything I have to be thankful for.”
Those words made her stop and think. “I understand that. It’s kind of how I see the park and the residents. The memory of my parents are still there.”
“You’re going to hate me for saying this.”
“Then don’t say it.”
Drake rose to his full height and advanced on her. “I’ve caught glimpses of you at the end of the day, and you’re moving like an eighty-year-old woman. You’re giving all of yourself to the residents. What’s left for you, Twila?” He took her hand and tried to draw her back toward the bed. “Honorable intentions, I promise,” he said when she resisted.
She followed him, and he sat himself next to her. “I might have considered the same thing lately, but it keeps me busy and I feel useful.”
Drake curled his strong hands around hers. “Is it possible you’re hiding from your grief? I know I’m probably the last person who should be suggesting anything, but by helping the elderly, you’re keeping the connection with your
parents alive.” He squeezed her hand. “My mother is worried about you.”
Twila felt her cheeks heat. “Your mom is a sweet lady, and you don’t have to be concerned.”
He grinned. “No, but I’m sure I’d earn some brownie points if I told her I was.”
She laughed and nodded. Neither of them could deny his mother had big hopes they’d fall madly in love. Letting Becka down wasn’t easy.
“Seriously, when was the last time you were on a date with a man?”
Ugh, should she answer? “It’s been a while.”
“A long while, I bet.” His finger strayed to her bare shoulder, circling it.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You played football in school didn’t you?” The caress on her shoulder ceased.
“Yeah.”
“Dated the head cheerleader, right?”
Drake leaned back on one arm and contemplated his answer. “Maybe, but what does that have to do with now?”
She turned to face him and curled a leg under her thigh. “Although we think we change, some parts of us remain the same. I was the shy girl, the one who spent lunch hours reading in the library. I thought the captain of the football team was handsome too, but the only reason he’d approach me, was to ask me if he could borrow a pencil.” Drake watched her, content to listen. “I imagine you spent years in the Marines breaking hearts in every port. You attract women like Heather because they see your potential. Heather isn’t a cheerleader, but she’s a model. The pretty girl. You’ve become a success, and you need someone like her beside you, and you’ll want someone like me to take care of your parents.”
Drake brushed her hair over her shoulder. “You’re wrong, I’m still a Marine at heart.”
“What do you mean?”
“My business has done very well. I could close up shop tomorrow and live comfortably for the rest of my life, but I’m a working stiff. It was ingrained in me. You’re right in a way. We don’t stray all that much from who we were as teenagers. That’s why when I look at Heather, I see a pretty coating on a vacant package. The same thing I saw in the head cheerleader and the women in every Port. They saw the uniform. Heard the title, but they weren’t looking at me.” He furrowed his brow. “It would be the same as me saying all you care about is what’s in a man’s bank statement? And I don’t think that’s true.”
“Trailer trash,” she muttered to herself, remembering Heather’s words.
An angry growl erupted from him. “Is that what Heather called you?”
“I’m not.”
“Of course you’re not. You’re just hurting from the loss of your parents, and you work yourself to death because it keeps your mind from wallowing in grief.”
She nodded. “You’d make a pretty good shrink, Dr. Addison.” Drake’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, and he drew her against his warm, massive chest.
“No, I just know what you need.”
“What’s that?” She looked into his smiling eyes.
His smile dissolved, consumed by another expression. He blinked and cleared his throat. His gaze slowed her heart to heavy beats when it slipped to her lips. She doubted either of them were breathing. His head bowed a little closer, and the grip of his hand on her arm squeezed tighter. “You need to stand on the bridge and feel the warm wind against your skin while we sail into the horizon.”
A smile and sigh of relief escaped her. It sounded fun. She rested her cheek against his shoulder and deliberated on his words. Being near him made her feel safe. Her brother was a great guy, but Drake seemed to be taking his place. Drake offered his gratitude by giving her an excuse to brush away her responsibilities for a while. “That’s not what you need,” she said, staring at his large hand covering hers in her lap.
She lifted her gaze to see a grin spread across his mouth and into his eyes. His voice lowered to a rough timbre. “I don’t think you’d give me what I need.”
His words kind of hurt her feelings and she pulled away. “Why not?”
He shook his head. “Don’t ask me that.”
Pushing herself up, she faced him. “You’re sending mixed signals, Drake.” She turned to leave, but he caught her by the waist, his large form overshadowing her, pressing against her from behind.
His mouth brushed her ear. “I know I am,” he said in a hushed voice. “I’m confusing the shit out of myself, but maybe you can straighten me out. For now, let’s leave the guilt and responsibilities on the dock and get the hell outta here.”
Chapter Ten
He was confused? Her stomach belly-flopped with excitement. By sheer size, he made her feel delicate. Drake Addison was irresistible, and she wanted him to kiss her, but that wasn’t happening, so friends it would be.
“Give me the afternoon and I’ll show you what dreams are made of, Twila.”
While she called the park to make sure someone looked in on Mrs. Abernathy, he pulled on her other hand, wanting her to follow, but she needed to clear her head. The thought of undressing him to release the thick bulge in his jeans made her shift uncomfortably. Would he kiss away the ache between her thighs if she asked? Ruining a new friendship by making it physical was a stupid idea.
Midway through the aft cabin, a cocky smile spread across his lips as if he could read her discomfort. He placed his palms around her cheeks and came within a breath of her lips. “I’m a patient man, Twila, but I assure you our relationship will change, but friends first sounds like a great idea.”
Every word that poured from his mouth was like molten lava to her sea of need. Her voice held a tremor when she said, “We’re friends, only friends.”
He brushed his nose against hers. “If that’s what you want.”
His gaze alone raised her body temperature.
“But if you want more, I expect you to lose that rigid self-control you’re clinging to,” he said in a raspy voice by her ear. “And when you do, I’ll be waiting to take control of the helm.”
His gaze raked across her face and set her nerve endings on fire. “You, you belong to someone else.”
A low rumble churned in his throat. “The cheerleader doesn’t get the captain of the football team this time, the sweet girl on the sidelines is all he sees.”
From the command bridge, the man straight out of her dreams, manoeuvred the Rebecca from the marina with ease. In control of the ship with the wind fluttering Drake’s cotton shirt and his stance radiating power in a pair of butt hugging jeans, Twila had to wonder whether or not she’d fallen into some kind of swashbuckling romance. She stood beside him and marveled at the beauty as they headed for open water. Drake’s face lit with a smile, and he gently pulled her to stand in front of him.
“Take the wheel,” he said.
“No way,” she spouted, at the same time letting his warm grasp place her hands on the polished wheel. Her heart flipped over when his body snuggled up to hers, pressing his heat against her back. He didn’t remove his hands, instead he covered them and forked his fingers through hers.
“Compass.” He nodded toward it. “Heading is zero-five-eight, we’ll keep on this course till we can alter to zero-zero-zero.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, looking up into a strong jaw with afternoon stubble making him far too rakish. Drake radiated an essence of maleness that connected with her female energy. Not to mention the excitement churning in her lower belly, stretching silky fingers to her sex. Sliding his left hand down her body, it settled on her hip, squeezing gently.
“To paradise, Miss Twila.” His gaze locked with hers and the lighthearted smile on his face slipped to bewilderment. They stared at each other for a suspended moment. “I want to watch the sun go down with you,” he whispered. He jerked his head and eyed the horizon. “Maintain this heading.”
“What?” she said, alarmed as he stepped away from her. “You’re not leaving me in charge?”
“Here’s your first rule of the road.”
“Rule of the road?” Her heart hammered with fear. What the
hell is that?
“In navigation if two ships are crossing, the one on the right, starboard, has the right of way. It’s called the stand on vessel.”
“What if I’m on the left?” She squeezed her eyes shut for an instant. “The Port?”
“Then you reduce speed and alter course to take their stern because you’re the give way vessel.”
“Stern, umm back part, right. Got it.”
He chuckled. “I trust you, sweetheart.” He paused and shook his head. “Shit, I did it again,” he muttered to himself.
“Did what?” she asked.
“Nothing. Press that button,” he said, motioning toward a black intercom button on the control panel, “if you need me.”
He disappeared down the ladder. Only a crazy man would leave her here by herself. Her heart beat feverishly, but after a few minutes she realized the open water didn’t hold any hazards and she probably couldn’t get them into much difficulty, finally relaxing and, if truthful, instantly fell in love with being able to control this huge vessel.
Twenty minutes later, lulled by the sea and daydreaming of a handsome man below deck, she heard, “Twila?” Drake’s voice made her jump coming from a speaker above her head.
She pressed the button. “Yes.”
“Alter course to zero-zero-zero. Bring the wheel slowly to port.”
“You have a lot of faith in a land lubber,” she said and laughed, slowly turning the wheel and seeing the vessel respond instantly to her command. She settled it out on the course Drake instructed. “Oh my God, this is sooo cool,” she said to herself.
A low chuckle came through the intercom system.
Time dissolved, and the coastline became sparse of inhabitants as long stretches of white uninhabited beach paralleled them. The sun began its slide into the sea.
“Nice driving,” he said from behind her.
“This is really fun. I’ve never driven a ship before.”
“You’re a natural,” he said coming up behind her and pressing his body against her. “And to continue your training, it’s actually called steering a course vs driving.”
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