When he caught sight of her, the cocky grin on his face was another sign of her need to move on. She managed to return a smile, but her heart still pounded from his little escapade. The last thing she wanted was to care about Adam. When it had happened, she didn’t know, but it couldn’t matter. She had a job to do before leaving town. And she would leave. She had to.
When the ferry was secure to the dock, Adam lowered the gangplank for the passengers to alight. He held out an arm for an elderly, slightly green-looking woman to step onto the dock. The lady gripped his arm like a vise until she reached stable ground. She wobbled, nearly falling when she let go of his arm, but he caught her and escorted her to her car, parked in the lot near Shelby’s. He settled the lady into her car, leaning in a moment to speak to her.
“Tough crossing today?” She waited for him to approach. He had to step close to catch her words over the wind’s howling.
“A little.” He turned slightly to look back over the bay where the waves still towered and crashed in gray fierceness.
“I’d be sick like your friend there.” She gestured to the departing car, where the old woman gave Adam a last weak wave. “How are you not?”
“Used to it, I guess. Even in the worst storms I’ve never felt queasy.” His oilskins squeaked slightly as he leaned against the car next to her.
“I bet you saw some bad ones. Northern Atlantic, right?” She should just ask him the favor she needed, but she wanted some time to soften him up. Talking about the war might make him realize the importance of such an article.
“Mostly. Occasionally we’d get to drop down for a run along the equator, but normally the only coastlines I saw were Newfoundland and Greenland.”
“Cold?”
“God, yes. And the waves made these look like ripples in a bathtub.” His expression was one of longing for something in the distant past that threatened to fade completely.
“You enjoyed it?” She had a sudden image of him, legs braced on the deck of a ship with his piercing eyes staring out over the ocean.
“The war? Yeah, in a strange way, I did.”
“Why?” she asked, wondering if perhaps her husband had had a similar experience. Did men perceive conflicts in a different way?
“It’s hard to explain. Something about the atmosphere, the men on board with me, the constant tension, and the sense of unreality that occurred at times. I don’t think I can explain it more than that.” A blast of wind whipped around them. “At least, not to someone who wasn’t there.”
“Weren’t you scared?” She had been terrified, even after her husband’s death, when she read the accounts of battles in the newspaper.
“Never of the water. If it took me, so be it. I didn’t want to die at the hands of the Nazis.” He rotated toward her, focusing on only her. “Still, for all the horror I saw, fear I felt, I wouldn’t trade the experience.”
She stumbled around in her mind looking for a way to extend this conversation. He was more open now than she’d ever seen him, and he wasn’t cloaking everything in a joke. “How long were you out there?”
“Three years, almost continuously. I only came home once.”
“It must have been a welcome break.”
“Not really.” His voice dropped to a level almost inaudible in the windy parking lot. “My brother’s funeral.”
“Oh...I’m sorry.” Despite all the platitudes she’d been offered, her mind was blank. No words helped anyway, only honesty. “I didn’t know. Mags never…”
“They know I don’t like it brought up. You probably get that.”
“Of course I do.” If only she were allowed to let it go, but the presence of her dead husband rose up even amongst people who hadn’t known him. Yet Adam managed to conceal his brother’s death so she was completely unaware of it. “Hard to escape the dead sometimes?”
“Yeah.” The slam of water against the pier near them broke the tension. As Adam watched the water recede, he seemed to put away the past. When he turned back to her, the cocky grin she associated with him was back in place. “What are you doing here, anyway? Not your usual hangout.”
“I came to ask you a favor.”
“Yeah, what?” His eyebrows rose in curiosity.
“Why don’t you get dried up and we’ll go get a cup of coffee?”
“Now you’ve got my attention. I’ll be back in a minute.” He strode across the lot to a collection of small buildings on the wharf. She climbed into her car to wait for him while jotting some notes for the potential story. When the passenger door opened, her heart leapt in surprise—and something else she wasn’t ready to admit to herself yet. His dark hair, still damp from the rain, curled around his ears. She resisted the temptation to smooth it into place, but barely.
“It’s usually my policy not to ride with women. I’ll have to make an exception for you.”
“Good. Because you’re not driving my car, and you don’t know where we’re going.”
“Somewhere secret?” He shot her a grin as he settled back on the cloth seat.
“No, just out of the way.” Her decision to leave town with him may have been a mistake. More time exposed to his masculinity and charm could be detrimental to her health. Still, she put the car in gear and pulled away from the dock, hoping his co-workers hadn’t noticed them leave together.
Bands of rain ripped across the highway as she drove to a small café about five miles outside of town. It was one of her favorite places to go when she wanted to escape the confines of Cape Charles. She was unlikely to meet any of her acquaintances here, since most of the café’s business was from the highway cutting through the strip of Virginia pinned between Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. No one would bother her here or even notice when she showed up with a man. They’d look like any couple traveling the highway together.
The café’s interior was a cheery mix of red checkerboard and deep blue nautical accents, making it look like the best of both home and America rolled up in one. When they were seated with cups of coffee on the table in front of them, Adam’s sharp eyes searched her face.
“You’ve taken me out of Cape Charles for some reason.” He poured milk into his mug, swirling it until it was a light brown. “I can’t imagine what.”
“Nothing devious. I just need a favor.”
“Name it.”
“I’ve been writing a series of articles for the Gazette about various local topics. Perhaps you’ve read some of them?” Although she was a small town reporter, her flair for writing had garnered a following.
“I’d like to say yes, Shells, but I don’t have time to read the paper.” The waitress put a piece of apple pie down in front of him with a large scoop of ice cream on top of it.
“Doesn’t matter. There have been five so far. One was on the origin of the school’s mascot, another on the library’s benefactor. You get the idea.”
“What’s this got to do with me?”
“My editor would like the last article to be about a local businessman.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“I proposed to him that we select an up-and-coming businessman. Someone who could have an impact on the area in the future.” She paused while he put a giant bite of pie in his mouth. “I suggested you.”
“Me?!” He sputtered around the food in his mouth, swallowing with an audible gulp. “I’m no businessman.”
“You will be if you get your boat business off the ground.”
“I’ll be a boatwright then, not some slick guy in a suit and white shoes.”
“People who own companies wear different apparel. It doesn’t change that you make and sell a product. It’s still a business.”
“Aren’t there plenty of businesses in town whose owners would be anxious for some free advertising?”
“Sure, but people already know about them.” She’d thought he might need a little persuading, but his jaw was thrust out, indicating a definite no. “People don’t know about your plans.”
“Where’s your confidence now? Scared to put your dreams on the front page?” She kept her tone light to see how far she could push him.
“Lady, you don’t play fair.” He waved his fork at her. “You can’t use my personality flaws against me.”
“Flaws? I didn’t think confidence was a flaw.”
“It is when the boat takes on water and has to be towed in.”
“I’ll present your earlier mishap as a learning experience.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not interested in that kind of attention until I’m sure she floats and I get some orders. Talk to me in a year—six months, if I’m lucky.”
“I don’t have six months. I have to finish this series of articles before I leave town.”
His fork that had been suspended in his hand rattled to the table. “You’re leaving? When?”
“Sometime in the next month or so. I haven’t decided exactly.”
“For a trip or something?”
“No, permanently.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his eyes now.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ve got some offers.”
“Why are you leaving?”
“Because I am.” She lifted her face, irritated that his questions were so demanding. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Fine. My answer is no to the article and that’s all you need to know.”
“I can write it without your permission, based on what I already learned.” She played hardball now, as the boys at the paper said, but she wanted to corner him.
“Isn’t that some kind of invasion of privacy? Our conversation on the ferry was private.”
“Was it? I don’t recall you stating that.”
“I’d just saved you from getting crushed by your own car. I didn’t know I had to specify.”
“And I appreciated your efforts, but I still want to write the article. It might do you some good. Maybe someone local will be interested in purchasing.”
The waitress put their check on the table and backed away from what appeared to be a tense conversation. Shelby reached for the slip of paper. She was pulling it closer to her when his hand clamped over hers.
“I’ll pay the check.” His voice was low and a little threatening.
“I invited you,” she argued, as his fingers tightened around hers. The rough calluses of his palm scraped across the back of her hand.
“And I accepted, which means I accepted responsibility for the bill.”
“Since when is that the code of conduct?” She tried to slip her hand and the paper from under his, but he flattened her hand against the table.
“Since you’re out with me.”
“I’m only here because I want to do the story about you.” Spending time with him wasn’t the part of her plan she was willing to discuss. “I just can’t see what is so offensive about it. I think you’re looking for a reason to be difficult. Would it convince you if part of my editor’s motivation was to show the potential success of war veterans?”
“No.”
“Don’t you want to help showcase how—despite having your life interrupted for three years—you’re doing what you want?”
“No.” A look of pain and annoyance crossed his face for a second before it was gone and his glare returned. “And I don’t see how you can write about that, considering how your marriage was ended by the war.”
She sat back in her seat abruptly, yanking her hand from under his. She no longer felt inclined to persuade him. Getting him out of the café and delivered home became her new priority. Then she could spend some serious time wondering what she saw in him and why this had seemed like a good idea at seven this morning. Right now, it was the world’s worst plan.
She rose, drew a few dollars from her purse, and thrust them into the waitress’s hand on her way to the door. Outside, rain pelted against her, soaking her blouse in front where her overcoat gaped open. She had barely reached her car when he caught her. His arm locked around her wrist, pulling her to face him. If he expected to see tears, he was wrong. Only rainwater streamed down her face, dripping off her chin.
He flicked the water from her cheek with his fingertip. Unexpectedly, he leaned in, brushing his lips over hers. He tasted of coffee, pie, and rainwater. Despite her anger, she wanted his kiss. To prove it, she gripped the front of his damp jacket, closing any distance between them. Understanding her intention, he deepened the kiss while splashes of water dropped all around them. His kiss was tender but laced with his habitual confidence, drawing her in until she no longer felt the rain.
Too soon, he drew back, whispering an apology. For what, she wasn’t sure. The reference to her husband? Or the kiss? She hoped it had nothing to do with either. With an arm around her waist, he guided her to the passenger seat of her car, tucking her into the dry interior.
When he slid onto the driver’s seat, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Afraid to ride with me?”
“Nope. I’ve never kissed a woman from the passenger’s side. Not sure I can do that.” He removed her soaked hat, tossed it into the back seat, and tugged her closer until their lips almost met. “I know what I’m doing from here.” This time the tenderness was gone, and she felt the full brunt of his confidence and persuasion through the kiss. His hand cupped the back of her neck, making her lean in. She did so willingly until he released her.
He watched the beads of water wind down the glass on the window behind her before he spoke. “I’ll make you a deal. You can write the article about me if you tell me why you’re leaving Cape Charles. I can’t imagine why anyone would leave this place, especially you. The place suits you.”
“Why?” She’d never thought of it that way. It was a place to live when she had needed to be near family.
“The town has a lovely exterior but a tough backbone. Like you, I suspect. Plus it’s beautiful and golden in the daylight and sometimes a little sad in the night.”
“Do I seem sad?”
He shrugged. “I thought so at first. Now I’m not sure. Do we have an agreement? An interview for some answers?”
“Complete with photographs?” She dangled the car keys in the air just out of his grasp.
“All right.” He took the now-offered key and started the car. “You drive a hard bargain.”
Chapter Four
Adam ran his hand along the top rail of his boat. He wanted it in the water before Shelby’s visit and interview, but the last coat of varnish needed a couple more days. Then he’d lower it from its cradle into the water and see what happened.
An edge of nerves played around him, but this boat was solid. No real worries there. It would glide through the water and look beautiful in the process. He prowled around the boat, checking every last detail before she came. She was the true source of his nerves. How could he, the cool-headed gambler, be so unnerved about a woman?
The thought of her coming had set him scrubbing every inch of the boathouse until it was shipshape upstairs and down. Not that he expected her to go to the upper floor where he lived. But an accident might happen. Like she could fall in the water and need to change into one of his shirts while her clothes dried.
For a moment, the image of Shelby with clinging, damp clothing distracted him and he let the rope he was coiling drop. Since their kiss the other night, his imagination had worked overtime concerning Shelby. Despite the rough texture of the rope, his fingers still tingled where they’d touched her delicate skin.
One hundred percent physical attraction, he reminded himself. Nothing more. He’d been far too busy to pay much attention to women, let alone go out and enjoy himself with one. Since Shelby was the woman he’d been most exposed to, it was no wonder he was interested in her.
Just coincidence.
But that didn’t explain why he thought about her in all the mindless hours of sanding and varnishing over the p
ast month. Really, he’d been thinking about her for long before that, but the kiss at the wedding sent his mind and body into overdrive.
When he heard her car halt outside, he brushed his hands over his shirt and straightened his tie. He’d debated about the formality of the tie and jacket, but if she wanted businessman, he might as well look the part.
Before she knocked, he opened the door for her, wanting to get the moment over so he could calm down. With a camera slung around her neck and a notepad in hand, she looked like a reporter, a beautiful one with hazel eyes under her floppy hat. A red shirtwaist dress accentuated her trim figure and subtle curves.
“Hi.” Her smile, excited and sincere, unnerved him. She didn’t seem anxious in the least. Maybe he was imagining the attraction between them. Maybe she was just Maggie’s pretty friend who happened to be one hell of a kisser. “Are you ready for me?” Her head was cocked to the side, like she was trying to figure out his expression.
“Yeah. Sure. I guess so,” he stammered out, feeling like the damn fool he was.
“Does that mean I can come in?” Not trusting his mouth to convey a coherent answer, he opened the door wider so she could pass under his arm into the boathouse. “I’ve never been in one of these places before.” Her eyes swept the open area from the wooden steps, leading to the upstairs, to the boat nestled in its system of supports against the right wall.
“It’s not much, but the price was right, and I needed access to the water.” He’d slapped a coat of white paint on the interior to brighten it. Other than that, the space was unembellished. For the first time, he noticed the shabbiness of it.
“So you just raise that door to get to the bay.” She pointed at the overhead door with the water flowing underneath.
Tempted by Adam Page 3