Objection Overruled

by O'Hanlon, J. K.

  Brandon secured the wheel in place and settled next to her, his long legs stretching across the cockpit. “She’s just out for a walk now. You should see her fully trimmed out.” He smiled widely. “Damn, this is a fast boat.”

  Brandon leaned in, his body pressed against hers from the shoulder down to the knee. Warm and sticky with sweat and the spray of salt water, they melted into each other. He found her right hand, wove his fingers with hers, and rubbed circles aimlessly on her hand with his thumb.

  Jackie used her free hand to run the backs of her fingers over his forearm. In spite of the hot Chesapeake sun, a field of goose bumps rose on his bronzed skin.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “You mean besides sailing?” His caresses moved from her hand to her face as he explored every curve.

  She pulled back. “You know what I mean. What the hell is going on? You disappear. You kidnap me. Some thugs shoot at us!”

  He rolled on his left side and pressed against her, wrapping his arms around her. “Calm down. We’re safe.”

  Jackie swallowed hard. He fit her. That was the last thing she wanted. “Safe. For now. How long before those goons find us?”

  He held her tight. “Relax. There’s time to go over all of this.”

  His cock swelled against her.

  “Oh, I see, the easy answer is you want sex, right?”

  The edges of his mouth curled up. “Always. With you.”

  Jackie pulled his sunglasses off to let them dangle by the strap against his chest. “What do you mean by always?”

  “Always.” His amber eyes were the color of aged scotch with flecks of gold picking up the sun’s rays. Dark clouds swept pass them, and the wind gusted. “Today, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year. Forever.”

  Forever. Her mind whirled dizzily. “I think I need the wine now,” Jackie said. She extracted herself from his grip and padded to the cabin, the world spinning around her.

  “Jackie, come back. Don’t run away from me.”

  Rage, lust, helplessness, fear, and a dozen other emotions battled in her chest. Suddenly, something snapped. “Come back? Come back?” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Where am I going to go? We’re in the middle of a huge bay. I can barely see the shore. You’ve kidnapped me. There’s no place to run to, and people have shot at us. We should call the police.”

  She leaned against the outside of the cabin. The boat rolled, and she gripped a rail tightly. He came toward her but stopped.

  “My participation in the case put you in a bad position professionally. I didn’t want to do that to you. I told Ashe this morning. He wasn’t too happy. My guess is that those creeps chasing us were his people. I’ll call the police when we’re closer to shore. Cell phone coverage out here is spotty at best.”

  Jackie’s cheeks flushed. The wind had grown violent and lashed her hair around her face. The anger and frustration with him churned inside. She didn’t need him to take care of her. “You should have told me. I could have remained in the case.”

  “I know. But you told me I shouldn’t talk to you. Jesus, what more can I do? I withdraw as an expert in a case that could give me national exposure professionally. I give up possibly the most lucrative business connection I’ll ever have. I risk everything. You know, most other women would be happy. What more do you want?”

  Jackie set her feet wide on the deck and tightened her grip on the rail on the top of the cabin behind her. The up-and-down motion of the boat had increased. Her stomach flip-flopped, whether from hunger, the motion of the boat, or sheer anger, she wasn’t sure.

  The clouds thickened and shadowed Brandon’s face. Thunder suddenly pounded overhead like a drummer hammering on a bass drum. The sky turned a sickly greenish gray. Sheets of rain came down not more than five hundred yards away.

  Jackie’s hold on the rail turned into a death grip. She scanned the horizon. No other boats. The shoreline had disappeared into the wall of rain. Her stomach threatened to empty itself.

  “Get below.” Brandon was at her side in a second. A firm hand on her arm, he guided her down the stairs into the cabin.

  Jackie clutched Brandon’s shirt. “I can’t swim,” she screeched against the thrumming of the rain.

  Brandon took her in his arms. “Calm down. It’s just a squall. I’ve been through a million of these. I can see blue sky beyond it. Get a life jacket on.” He pulled a bright yellow vest from a cubby underneath the bunk and slipped Jackie’s arms through it, like he was dressing a doll. “Exhale,” he told her and pulled the straps tighter than she liked.

  “It’s too tight,” she said trying to catch her breath.

  “It’s just right. Trust me. Stay down here. If you come up, clip this line on to a rail or anything solidly attached to the boat.” He put the clip and line, which was attached like a harness to the vest, in her hand and kissed her quivering lower lip.

  The air in the cabin stifled her with its sticky heat. Everything Jackie touched was damp. Constrained by the bulky life jacket, she shuffled to the bunk to lie down. The horizontal position proved more turbulent. Her stomach lurched in weightless somersaults, like going over the peak of a roller coaster over and over again.

  A cool, clammy sweat beaded on her forehead in the midst of the humidity. Surely there was nothing to throw up. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. A glance at her watch told her it was now close to six in the evening.

  Although her brain told her that it was unlikely she would toss her cookies, her stomach ignored her. Sour bile burned her throat. She needed fresh air. A wall of water hit her in the face when she pulled the hatch door back to get outside. The rain came down in buckets. Why hadn’t she learned to swim like a normal kid?

  Where was Brandon? The helm was unmanned, but there was a strap in place holding it steady. She took another step up and surveyed the scene. The sail on the front of the boat was down, wadded up on the deck, catching small pools of water in its folds. The main sail was lower but still up. Brandon was there, tying up something.

  Unable to take a deep breath with the life vest on, Jackie took in small bites of the air through her mouth. The bay’s water, the same shade of green gray as the sky, blended into the horizon through the sheets of rain. Her hands slipped on the wet rails, and she gripped tight enough to numb her fingers in one hand. Nothing would pry her off the rail.

  Finished with the sail, Brandon headed back toward her and the cockpit. Bent low in a crouch, he kept one hand on the boom to steady himself. Suddenly, the boom dropped a foot and swung in a wild arc away from Brandon. The sail cracked loud as the wind beat against it. Reaching the end of its line, the boom rebounded back toward the center of the boat.

  Jackie ducked in time to miss its sweep. Brandon had lost his footing when the boom first swung out. He was scrambling to get stabilized when then boom swung back toward him. The scream from her mouth was silent to her ears under the pounding rain and thunder, but it burned inside her head. She watched the boom slam into Brandon’s shoulder and sweep him overboard.

  Scurrying out of the cabin, Jackie stayed low to avoid the out-of-control boom, which continued to swing violently. The boat rolled back and forth each time the boom cut through the air. The lifeline with the carabiner clip banged into her leg. Clip on to something. She secured herself to the metal pole to which the helm was attached.

  She tried to move the wheel, but the out-of-control sail made steering impossible, with the wind curling around the boat. She scanned the water for Brandon but saw only white foam. She needed to get that boom tied down, but how? As it swung over her head, an attached line slashed across her face. She grabbed it. Held tight. It cut her hands as the boom struggled to swing free.

  Her hands were numb, but she found a cleat. Hurrying, she wrapped the line around it like she’d seen Brandon do. The boat’s course became smoother, but the rain still pelted horizontally into her face. Steer into the wind, she remembered, like when they put the sail up. The boat slowed. Th
e sail ruffled. She stood and squinted into the rain.

  No sign of him.

  He hadn’t been wearing a life jacket. He didn’t have anything colorful on. His faded T-shirt would blend into the water’s washed-out color. He didn’t have a lifeline on.

  She swallowed hard. The boom probably had knocked him out.

  She looked out over the water, her chest tightening to suffocate her. She closed her eyes and prayed. When the cold, biting rain turned warmer and softer on her face, Jackie opened her eyes. The rain stopped, and beams of sun sliced through the clouds. Her tears poured forth, hot against her drenched skin.

  Brandon was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I can drive a car, so I can drive this thing,” Jackie said aloud in her nervous habit of self-talk.

  Jackie kept herself clipped on to anything attached to the boat as she moved toward the mast. Although the torrential rain had subsided, she blinked water from her eyes. The boat bobbed helplessly under her shaking legs. The lightening skies provided only the slightest relief.

  Brandon was out there.

  She had to find him.

  Her heart seized tight at the thought he might be dead.

  She choked back a sob. She could do this.

  She made her way to the main mast, intent on lowering the sail completely. With the flailing sail down, she could start the engine and look for Brandon. She started with the line on her far right, trying to give the sail slack to pull it down. The third line worked, and she was able to pull the entire main sail down. It hung limp off the boom, spilling its soaked canvas onto the cabin.

  Jackie retraced her steps to the helm, where she turned on the engine and engaged the gear to move the boat forward. She made a wide 180-degree turn and went forward slowly, afraid of mowing down Brandon, who might be floating. Headed toward the black skies, she held firmly on to the wheel. Hopefully, the storm was far enough behind that she wouldn’t have to endure that again.

  A life ring hung on the outside rail on each side of the boat near the back. She’d throw one of those to him as soon as she found him. The worst-case scenario was that she’d jump in with one of the rings and save him. Please, God, let him be alive and conscious.

  At least she had a plan. It was summer, so the water would be warm enough for him not to get hypothermia. The days were long. The sun hung high in the sky, although it felt like hours had passed since Brandon was thrown overboard.

  Her ears pricked up to catch any human sounds. She squinted against the reflections on the water. Where were the Richard Petty sunglasses when she needed them? Something dipped in and out of the water ahead and to the left. Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was Brandon. No, it looked like a fin.

  Three dolphins played in the water. They swam close to the boat as if racing her. If only they could talk. Maybe they’d seen Brandon. How was she going to find him? She took deep breaths in through her nose. “Focus,” she chattered. “Focus. You can do this, North.”

  The back of her head stung suddenly. A chunk of something, which looked like wood, rolled forward in the cockpit. She moved her head around like a radar dish trying to pick up a signal. Somewhere her name reached her ears. Then, she definitely heard the word, “Stop.” After cutting the engine, Jackie clearly heard Brandon’s voice behind her. In a second, she was at the rear of the boat, a life ring in her hand.

  “Jackie, to your right. Over here.” Brandon bobbed up and down, waving one arm.

  Thank God!

  She threw out the ring, which went far right of him. “Shit, I suck at Frisbee,” she muttered as she hauled in the ring for another toss. Her hands trembled, and she struggled to stay upright under wobbly legs.

  This time, she got within a few yards of him. He paddled over to the ring and looped an arm through it. The pain in her hands seared hot when she gripped the rope. She bit her lip and held her breath. Working hand over hand, she pulled him in, putting the white-hot pain in her hands out of her mind.

  He climbed up the ladder on the back of the boat and collapsed onto the deck.

  Surging adrenaline ignited her body. Electricity rushed through her, making her trembling limbs steady and strong.

  He was alive.

  Jackie knelt beside him, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. She insistently pressed her mouth to his. His mouth opened, and she slid her tongue in. His desperation seemed to match hers. His lips pressed hard against hers. She took as much of him as she could and threw away any resistance to his searching tongue.

  Brandon pulled back, gasping for air. “I just have one question—who taught you to throw?”

  “My crazy mom. I blame all of my lame qualities on her.” They both broke out in laughter.

  Brandon leaned up on his elbow to sit. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Thank you. You saved my life.”

  His gaze bore deep into her. Every molecule of her existence warmed and swelled. Her body felt suddenly light and free from every worry. The case. Her bank account. Her dysfunctional family. It all faded. Only Brandon mattered. What was happening?

  Brandon brushed his lips over hers. They tickled. He kissed her as soft as the touch of a butterfly. First on the lips, then her eyes, then every part of her face. In between his soft caresses, he muttered words of thanks to her.

  Finally, he pressed his face against her neck and took her into his arms. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  Jackie wrapped her arms around Brandon and buried her face in his damp hair. The familiar scent of salt and the woods hit her. She loved his smell. She inhaled deeply and held on tight.

  Tightness across her chest hindered her breathing. The life jacket. She moved away from Brandon and sat up. Her hands throbbed. She opened and closed them, looking at her raw palms.

  Everything exploded at once. She pawed at the buckle to the jacket. “Can you help me get this ridiculous thing off? I can’t get the buckles undone. I feel like that tire character.” She wrinkled her nose. “It smells really bad, like a wet bird soaked in cat piss.”

  Brandon freed her from the life vest and took her bloodied hands in his and turned them over. “Your hands. What happened?”

  Sobs exploded from within her. She covered her face with her hands. “I thought you were gone.”

  He gently moved her hands away from her face, and then cradled her head in his hands. He wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “You and me both.” He kissed her forehead lightly and tipped his chin down to touch his forehead to hers.

  Taking her in his arms, he pressed his body as close to her as possible. His hard body against her gave her a sense of security. She put her arms around him and let the warmth of his body soak into hers.

  “I’m not letting go, in case you were wondering,” she warned him.

  “That works for me,” Brandon agreed. “But you’re hurting my arm.”

  Jackie gingerly touched his shoulder. “Are you hurt? The boom whacked you hard.”

  “I don’t think it’s serious, but I’m sore there. And your hands are a mess. Stay here; I’ll get some bandages.”

  Jackie grabbed for his hand. “Don’t leave me!”

  “I’m not leaving you; I promise.” He kissed her knuckles and patted her hand as he extracted himself from her clinging grip.

  Toweled off and changed into dry clothes, Brandon cleaned Jackie’s torn palms with gentleness and care. Even so, the pain was intense. Black-and-silver spots danced in front of Jackie’s eyes. “I’m going to pass out.”

  “No you aren’t.” His voice was calm and assured. “Breathe deeply through your nose and put your head down.” She stayed that way as he finished his job. “You can sit up now.”

  Her hands looked like a boxer’s with the bandages. “Thanks. Is there anything for me to wear? I’m freezing.”

  He tucked her wet hair behind her ears and held her face in his hands. “I’m sure there’s something below for you. But right now, I’d give anything to be naked next to you.�
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  Jackie tensed. After the initial manic kiss, everything between them melted into an intense yet gentle emotional connection. And, now he just wanted sex?

  She panicked and pulled back. “So, you get thrown overboard, I save the day and your life, looking like the tire guy with boxer hands, and all you can think of is sex?”

  Brandon stood and paced the five feet of the boat’s cockpit. He faced Jackie and ran his fingers through his hair. “Hell yes, I’m thinking of sex. My life flashed before my eyes at least twice in the last few hours. The thought of never seeing you again—” He turned away from her.

  His words buzzed inside her head. Now with the conflict over the case gone, they were free to…to do what? Date? Have sex? Were they beyond that after all that happened?

  Her head spun. Her stomach flip-flopped. Every muscle stiffened.

  Brandon turned back to her and pulled her up into his arms. His body warmed her even through her wet clothes. His soft kisses covered her neck. Her body loosened into his secure embrace. He kissed her earlobe and whispered, “I’m yours. I want you to be mine.”

  Before she could think about what he said, or analyze it or protest, Brandon pressed his mouth to hers. He enveloped her with urgency and roughness, pushing his tongue into her mouth, where he explored her unapologetically.

  The tension in her body dissolved. His passion ignited her, and she returned his kiss with intensity. Jackie laced her fingers through his damp hair. His waves clumped together in a mahogany-and-honey-colored mass. She pulled his head back to expose his neck. She ran her tongue up from his collarbone to his ear. The mixture of his sweat together with the bay’s water left a salty tang on her tongue. His rough stubble bristled against her lips. And, in spite of his plunge into the bay, the scent of fresh-cut oak lingered on his skin.

  He moaned in response and pulled against her grip while he clamped his arms around her. “I need you. Now.” His voice was soft in volume, yet it produced a gravelly resonance.

  She answered his desire with a nip on his earlobe followed by a long suck between her lips. “Take me.”