by Leigh Duncan
“Never happen,” Dan said firmly. “I have it on good authority—” he nodded toward the sleeping figure in the back seat “—that Tommy D. walks on water.” His seat belt retracted with a snap. “I’ll carry Adam upstairs for you.”
“Sure.” She exhaled the word on a long, low breath. She’d agonized over how to invite Dan in for coffee without coming across as too forward—to say she was out of practice was an understatement.
Upstairs, she plucked the hat from her son’s head and set it on his dresser where he’d see it first thing in the morning. Dan had stepped into the bathroom by the time Adam was all tucked in. With coffee next on the agenda, she headed for the kitchen.
In the light of the half-moon shining through the window, she fumbled with the pot.
Coffee. That’s all it was. Coffee.
She wasn’t going to bed with Dan, the man who threatened all she stood for. And certainly not while Adam slept in the next room. But watching the handsome doctor with her son had stirred too many thoughts of how things might have been if Tom had lived. And that left her feeling unsettled, adrift.
She had loved her husband. A part of her always would. Sam, Evy, her parents—they all thought she’d kept other men at arm’s length out of loyalty. She was the only one who knew it was the way Tom had lied to her that’d left her angry and afraid to trust.
Dan’s honesty set him apart. It was one of the reasons that, despite frequent reminders not to fall for the doctor, she was drawn to him. Yes, the man had the sexy good looks that could turn a girl on with a single glance, but she was attracted to him on a much deeper level. By the time she finished pouring water into the coffeemaker, she was wondering if she shouldn’t make one more effort to convince him to see things her way.
Soft footsteps in the hallway alerted her to Dan’s presence moments before the comfortable weight of his hand settled on her shoulder.
“Do you mind?” he whispered in her ear.
Was he kidding? How could she object when the simple touch of his fingers shot tremors straight to her core and dampened her palms? He sifted through her hair, lifting and separating the strands. She rested her shoulders against his broad chest and concentrated on breathing until her heart beat in sync with his.
“Dan, I…” She turned to face him.
“It’s okay,” he said, sliding velvet hands along both sides of her jaw. “We won’t take this any further than you want to go.”
“Yeah, about that.” Her breath hitched. She finished in a rush. “We need to talk.”
Dan leaned away from her. His lips curved into a teasing smile. “Talk? Not coffee and whatever?”
“I’m serious. We need to hash this out before things go any further between us.”
The crease between Dan’s brows deepened. “What are you trying to tell me?”
She’d never been one to pussyfoot around the truth. “I’m saying I’d like to get to know you better.” She threw in a flirty smile. “A lot better.” She paused to let the meaning sink in before she added, “But…”
“Here it comes.”
Nodding, she took a breath. “But I’ve never told you how my husband died, have I?”
Dan’s look turned solemn. He leaned back, propping long arms against the kitchen island. “A boating accident. That’s all I know.”
She blew out some air. Drew in some more to steady herself, and began.
“Tom enjoyed spending time with our customers a whole lot more than he liked fishing. But once I was pregnant with Adam he took over the guide service. His clients that day were from New York. A couple of surgeons, actually.” She nodded when Dan winced. They both understood the parallel. “From what they said later, they were in a hurry to get their lines wet. They were on their way to the point off Phelps Cove and dared Tom to take a shortcut on the north side of the Barge Canal.”
Her words slowed. The facts were out there. The media’d had a field day, revealing every heartbreaking detail, but she’d sidestepped all the interviews and, ever since, she’d avoided discussing the accident with anyone. Until now. If she had any hope of changing Dan’s mind about the cove, he needed to hear the whole story.
“The thing is, I’d taken those clients out before and they were trouble. Tom and I had agreed not to guide them again. At least, I thought we had. When I found out he’d lied to me about who he was taking out that day, we fought. It was the last time I saw him alive.”
Dan shifted forward. As much as she wanted to bury herself in his arms, she waved him off.
“Tom loved living on the edge, and that wasn’t the first time I’d caught him in a lie.”
She cleared her throat. After all this time, the disloyal words still nearly choked her.
“He ran the boat aground at top speed. The clients were okay except for a couple of scrapes and bruises, but Tom was thrown. Broke his neck. They airlifted him to the trauma center. There, uh…” She toed a spot on the linoleum. “There was no hope. Two days later, on my way home from the funeral, I went into early labor with Adam and nearly lost him, too.”
She hugged herself. “And that’s why I worked with Henry to preserve Phelps Cove.”
“You see the land as a memorial to Tom.” Compassion glinted in Dan’s dark eyes.
Slowly, she nodded. “For a long time, I did. But it’s really more for Adam.” She swung her arms wide. “Preserving the cove is something we need to do for our future. I want to take my son fishing there. I want my grandkids to collect oyster shells and see horseshoe crabs crawl through the shallows. I want their kids to grow up knowing that panthers and turtles aren’t just animals in a zoo.” She swallowed a few tears.
“We’ve known from the day we met that we’d never see eye-to-eye about the land, Jess. I wish things were different, but there it is.”
She glanced up at the kind, but clearly misguided man who was dangerously close to stealing her heart. Reeling herself in, she kicked her foot against the floor.
“The legislature is going to purchase Phelps Cove. When they do, you’ll lose your only way to make the money you need for Connections House. I’m just saying—The Aegean’s surgery center could go practically anywhere. For not much more than the cost of clearing the land, you could demolish and rebuild wherever you wanted.”
The look on Dan’s face told her she’d given him something to think about. And when he nodded slowly, more to himself than to her, she felt a flicker of hope that things might work out between them.
“You make a good case,” Dan said at length. “I think Bryce has already considered all the options, but I can certainly mention the idea of finding a different spot.”
He held up a hand. “No promises, though.”
Whether it would be enough to persuade The Aegean group to give up their bid or not, well, for that, she’d just have to wait and see. As for any hope of a relationship with Dan, if it was going to work between them, there were things about her he’d need to accept. She tended to get passionate about what she believed in, and Phelps Cove wasn’t the only thing that generated strong feelings.
She tilted her face to his. Her eyes locked on the contours of his lips, she watched as, ever so slowly, he leaned toward her. The tender kisses he planted on either side of her mouth stirred a hunger to have his lips on hers. She rose on tiptoe to meet him. The first brush of his lips was warm and inviting and, feeling as if she’d finally come home after being away too long, she sank against him.
The tip of his tongue sent little shock waves pulsing through her, and she opened to welcome him. She smiled against his kisses. He tasted of mint with the smallest hint of chocolate syrup from the sundae they’d shared at dinner. As their tongues danced, she twined her hands through his hair. Thick and silky, it slipped through her fingers like satin and filled the air with the clean, crisp scent of falling rain.
Each kiss made her greedy for more. A look into Dan’s heated gaze told her he was feeling the same thing. His hands eased to her waist and, with less effort th
an she imagined, he lifted her onto the counter. Her breasts swelled and grew impossibly heavy when he kissed the bare skin above her neckline. On fire with the need to feel his skin beneath her hands, she tugged his shirttail free of his jeans. She sighed softly when she brushed her fingers across the firm yet supple muscles of his chest.
Her breath ratcheted up with each caress, and she sucked in a gasp when his hand cupped her through the lacy fabric of her bra. She moved her hands around to his back, drawing him to her while his lips nibbled lower. Her heart pounded against her chest until she tingled all over. An incredible sweetness pooled below her waist when he fanned a breath across each breast.
It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. Pretty sure the anticipation was going to drive her mad, she scootched forward a notch.
A loud cry erupted from Adam’s room, and they both jumped.
Jess knew she would have fallen off the edge of the counter if Dan’s strong arms hadn’t been there to catch her. Of course, she wouldn’t have been on the counter if Dan hadn’t been standing there, doing all those incredible things with his hands, his fingers, his tongue… Her breath escaped in a ragged sigh when another wail came from the back of the apartment.
“Nightmare,” she gasped. “He gets them. I need to…”
“Of course. Sure.” Dan was already backing away, slipping buttons into holes and breathing almost as hard as she was. She jerked her T-shirt into place seconds before Adam stumbled to a halt outside the kitchen.
“Mom?”
“Yeah, baby.” Jess slid off the kitchen counter and eased around Dan. “I’m right here, honey. Did you wake up?”
His favorite teddy bear clutched to his chest, Adam stood in the doorway. Tear-stained cheeks and hiccups told her the dream had been a bad one. She dropped to her knees, gathering him in her arms. Amazed at how fragile her sturdy little boy became in the middle of the night, she rocked him gently while she stroked his hair until he quieted.
“Want Mommy to warm some milk for you before you go back to bed?”
It was part of their routine and, his head pressed against her shoulder, Adam nodded.
“Climb up into your chair and I’ll get it ready for you.”
Two brown eyes widened as Adam stepped away from her and got his first good look at the other person in the kitchen.
“Did you have a bad dream, too?” He turned to Jess.
“Mom, are you fixing him some?”
She bit back a nervous giggle and quirked a half-smile at the light that danced in Dan’s eyes.
“Warm milk sounds like just what the doctor ordered,” Dan said, sliding into a chair opposite her son. “And I’m a doctor, so I should know.”
A few seconds in the microwave took the chill off.
Soon Adam’s soft slurps punctuated the companionable silence that filled the kitchen. Jess eyed the boy who was rapidly growing sleepy again.
“Ready for bed?” she asked.
Adam nodded and slid from his chair before aiming an accusatory look at Dan. “You didn’t drink it. Mom says we have to.”
“Will do,” Dan agreed softly. He wrapped long fingers around his own cup and downed a swig just as Adam peered up at him and asked, “Are we having a sleepover?” A huge yawn escaped his milk-rimmed lips. “Mom makes waffles when my friends sleep over. You’ll like ’em.”
“Maybe some other time,” Dan answered with a deep chuckle that filled the quiet kitchen.
Mortified, Jess hurried to point out that the man across the table had his own home, with his own bed to sleep in before she hurried her child off to his room. By the time she exited Adam’s room after another round of prayers and hugs had eased the boy back to sleep, Dan stood at the front door, one hand on the knob.
“We probably shouldn’t press our luck. He might wake up again.”
She wanted to argue, but she was already nodding. She might want to finish what they’d started in the kitchen, but permanence wasn’t in the hand they’d been dealt, and shielding Adam from the day when their differences drove them apart was her responsibility. She brushed a final kiss on the soft underside of his chin. Inhaling his spicy scent one more time, she turned aside so he wouldn’t see the sparkle of tears in her eyes.
“See you Wednesday,” she whispered as she listened to him descend the stairs.
Edgy, restless and afraid he’d made off with a chunk of her heart when he left, Jess closed the door and leaned against it. Her glance slid across cedar floors, worn carpets and chintz curtains. For the seven years since she and Tom had opened On The Fly, the roomy apartment had been her home. Adam had never lived anyplace else. Not everyone had it so lucky, and Dan was one of those.
What had it been like for him, growing up without a place to call his own? Never knowing, when he headed off to school in the morning, if he’d sleep in the same bed that night? How had he coped? Especially after he’d aged out of the system, when—without Glen and Maddy’s support—only his own determination, intelligence and drive would have stood between him and a life on the streets.
Small wonder that Connections House was so important to him.
He was sure to hold it against her when the fulfillment of her dream cost him his. But did it have to be that way? Right now, she and Dan were in a lose-lose situation with no hope of a relationship, but maybe—just maybe—she knew a way to fix things.
The possibility gave her plenty to think about during the long, sleepless night that followed.
Chapter Ten
His line swished through the crisp winter air. With a flick of the wrist, Dan landed the curve cast exactly where he wanted it—three feet off the bow of a rotting sailboat that had sunk during the last hurricane. Jess said they were sure to find a few snook hanging out around the structure. Seconds later, her fly landed a respectful ten yards away.
“Nice,” she called. “But you didn’t learn that cast from me. Where’d you pick it up?”
He followed her example, pitching his voice loud enough to hear over the wind and low waves, but not so loud he startled their quarry. “I found it in a book by Lefty Kruh. He made it look easy enough.”
“Kreh,” Jess corrected. “Lefty’s the whole reason you’re standing here.”
Dan let his confusion show.
“Before he came along, fly fishing was pretty much limited to streams and lakes.” Jess dipped her rod, a sign of respect for the man who’d brought the sport into salt water. “You’re doing a good job, by the way. Especially in this breeze.”
Dan grinned. The words were high praise for a guy who, six weeks earlier, had barely known which end of the fly rod to hold. Back then, he’d needed her hands-on instruction. Now, thanks to her lessons, he and Jess fished shoulder to shoulder in water that covered the hem of his shorts and lapped against her waist.
That wasn’t the only progress they’d made. Since that night in her apartment, it had been harder and harder for them to resist their attraction to each other. He’d tried. Oh, had he tried. But no matter how far apart from her he vowed he’d stay, somehow, they ended up in each other’s arms. With all they had against them, a real relationship still seemed impossible. And the idea that he might be dangerously close to falling head over heels for Jess sent a tremor through fingers that were normally rock-steady.
He scuffed his boot against the riverbed, sending up a plume of sand and grit. He looked down and saw too much thin green cord floating at his side, a rookie mistake that was sure to draw a comment from his teacher. There was only one way to recover—change flies and hope Jess thought that had been his plan all along.
He spun the noisy crank, reloading his reel so the line wouldn’t tangle, and braced for constructive criticism. When Jess didn’t offer it, he glanced her way and saw she was on her cell phone, her back to him. The reprieve gave him time to choose the right fly for the situation. He studied the cloudy water, wanting to demonstrate all he’d learned.
Gray skies lowered the visibility. The light chop had dist
urbed a layer of silt and turned the river murky. The outline of the wreck had blurred. He thought fish might have problems seeing the fly and, trying not to read too much into the seductive name, tugged a red-and-white seaducer from a patch of nubby cotton on his vest.
“I told you, that won’t work for me.”
Jess’s voice bounced off the waves. The sharp tone drew his attention. Her shoulders, which always felt so soft under his caress, looked stiff and unyielding.
“Pick a different day. Any other day that week.”
His head bent low over his work, he muttered, “Give in, buster.” While he clipped off the old fly and tied on a new one, he listened more closely than he intended to one side of a conversation that sounded all too familiar. Though Jess had more good qualities than he could count, meeting someone halfway wasn’t one of them. He wondered if anyone had ever explained to her that the c in “customer service” stood for compromise. From the way she spoke to someone who sounded suspiciously like a potential client, he thought not.
“Trouble?” he asked after the call ended and Jess faced him again.
“A guy from New York. Comes down every year. He’ll be in town for weeks, but only the last Wednesday of the month will do.” The frown she wore turned into a teasing grin. She aimed her trigger finger his way. “I told him I had a previous commitment, but he didn’t want to hear it. What is wrong with these people?”
The solution was obvious. “He can take my slot,” he offered. “You can tack on a makeup lesson at the end of my ten weeks.”
She shrugged. “I already told him, no.”
It was his turn to frown. He summoned up his sternest voice to say, “Business must be getting better.” When Jess toyed with her fly reel instead of answering, he got to the point. “You realize you did the same thing to me, don’t you? I think you’re worth it, but some customers will just find another guide.”
“I won’t let them walk all over me,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes.