by Kathryn Shay
They walked side by side down the hall. She knew he was taller than her, and she was five eight without her heels. Still he had inches on her, which she only noticed today. And his shoulders were wide, stretching the material of his summer suit. The light tan flattered him.
“Here we go.” He opened the door to a small conference area. Once inside, he pulled out a chair for her.
“Trying to impress me because I called out your manners?”
“No, why, what’d I do?” He meant it.
“Sorry,” she said. “It was a dumb thing to say.”
He sat adjacent to her. “So, Ms. Hayley. How do we deal with the rest of the trial? We talked about a truce. Still on board with that?”
“I am, but what makes you think we can carry it off?”
Paul shifted in his seat. He seemed nervous, too. “Well, for one, we don’t have a choice. We can’t go to jail again, though it had some high points.”
She swallowed hard and hoped he didn’t notice.
“The case will probably end today,” he continued. “And, um, I’m not allowed in the courtroom with you again.”
“Me either, with you. I feel like a teenager who’s being punished.”
“I had that exact thought.” He waited. “Did your client call you?”
“Yes, his mother did. She wasn’t happy with what happened Friday. You?”
“My uppity parents read me the riot act. I threatened to quit if they didn’t settle down, and they probably knew they wouldn’t be able to replace me with someone of my caliber.”
“Modest, aren’t you?” Hayley teased.
“No, are you?”
“Not where my job is concerned.”
“So, we agree we have to do better today. Promise you’ll be on your best behavior.”
She chuckled. “Promise? Where’d that come from?”
His blue eyes shadowed. “It was a thing we did as kids. If we promised not to do or say something, it was sacred. Far as I know, none of us betrayed that.”
“That’s nice. Okay, Mr. Paul, I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“As do I.”
He checked his watch. “We have a few minutes. What about you and your brothers? How do you get along?”
“Great. We had a common enemy.”
“Who was that?”
“My mother. Finn, Ronan and I were very close. Finn and I still are.”
“What about Ronan?”
“Now there’s the million-dollar question. One I don’t have time to answer.” She stood. “Ready to go?”
“Yes.”
Hayley noticed his hand at her back all the way to the courtroom. Once inside, they both argued calmly, brilliantly. When the jury came back at four, finding for the prosecution, Hayley didn’t feel her usual elation at beating Paul Covington. Now that was something to think about.
* * *
Paul didn’t want to let her go, plain and simple. He lingered inside the courtroom until it emptied. She approached him. “Feel bad you lost?”
“Not a bit. All I’m going to say is Jamie Callahan and his parents are something else.”
“Will they bad-mouth you?”
“To their friends. But I don’t want that kind of client again. I shouldn’t have taken it this time. Enough said.” He picked up his briefcase. “You happy about your win?”
“Not as much as usual.” She crinkled her nose. “It used to be fun to beat you.”
“Not now?”
“Nope.”
The admission only urged him on. “So, what’s next for you?” he asked.
“I’m done for the day. You?”
“I usually work until six. But on trial days, sometimes not.”
He stared at her. What the hell? He’d take a giant leap. “Hayley, I know this is highly inappropriate to ask, and don’t slap me for it, but would you spend the rest of the day with me?”
No slap came. “Do you really want to do that, Paul?”
“I’m afraid,” he said moving closer, “I do. I was just thinking how I didn’t want to let you go.”
Without saying more, she put down her purse and picked up her phone. “Maria Blackburn, please.”
She touched the speaker icon. “Hayley, did you win?”
“I did.” She winked at Paul. “I beat the pants off of Covington in our very last encounter.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Good for you.”
“If you don’t need me for anything, I’m not planning to come back to the office. I know it’s only three, but I have something else I want to do.”
“Sure, you deserve some time to yourself. You worked hard on this case. Have a good night.”
“Thanks.”
“And congratulations, Hayley.” Maria clicked off.
She smiled up at Paul. “So, counselor, what are we going to do?”
“Do you like boats?”
“My brother Finn was a sailor from the time he was in junior high. We spent hours on the water.”
“My boat’s in the water in Brooklyn.” He told her the name of the marina. “I keep clothes on it. For me. And, um, some that might fit you.”
Her eyes held mirth. “Women’s clothes?”
“Not like you mean.”
“Then let’s go.”
Holy shit, he wanted to take her hand and lead her out of the courtroom. But he restrained himself, walking by her side as they left the building and hailed a cab. They both slid inside.
“Will people think it odd that we got in the same cab?”
“Let them.” He sighed. “What about what we’re doing? Is this a good idea for us?”
“Probably not,” she said leaning into him.
So, she felt it, too.
Paul decided to blank his mind of second thoughts. He’d gotten very good at the technique since his father disowned him and he became estranged from those brothers and sisters he used to make promises to.
* * *
A thirty-foot cabin cruiser listed back and forth brushing up against the dock. She smiled at the name of it. Seas the Day. The familiar scent of water and seaweed filled Hayley’s head, making her think of her younger days. As she told Paul, she knew about boats because Finn owned one all his life. He loved the freedom they gave him because they’d take him away from the house.
Paul climbed in first and water lapped against the dock. “Here, take my hand.”
“Wait a sec.” She bent over and kicked off her heels. Stuffing them in her large purse, she let him help her board.
“Shouldn’t we have untied the boat from its moorings?”
“Not yet. If it’s okay, I’ll change first. While I’m down there, I’ll find something for you.”
“Sounds good.”
When Paul went below, she walked to the bow. She had a sudden vision of Ronan, standing behind her when she wasn’t yet a teen and helping her steer. Because it made her ache inside, she looked around. The boat was made of fiberglass, with white leather padded benches forming an L to her left, and two cockpit chairs of the same material to her right. A built-in kitchen up on the deck was a nice touch.
It was still warm at three-thirty, so she shrugged out of her suit jacket. She’d worn a sleeveless pink blouse beneath. She moved under a hard-top sunroof that was open, dropped down on one of the benches and closed her eyes. As a light breeze blew across her, she let memories of days out on boats with Finn surface. Then her thoughts turned to Paul.
She had no idea why she’d come here with him. She knew it probably wasn’t the best decision she made, but accompanied him anyway simply because she wanted to. She vowed to keep things light, spend the day with him, and part friends.
The water lulled her busy mind until he returned. Dressed in yellow shorts and a plain white polo shirt, he’d plopped a navy ballcap on his head. Which was cute.
“I left stuff out on the bed. We had an outing for the associates in the firm here not too long ago, and I bought some stuff people might nee
d. So, no, it wasn’t for dates, as you teased me about.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m sure many of your women have been on board.”
“Not that many, actually.”
She walked past him and he grasped her arm. “Hayley?”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you came.”
“Me, too.”
Down below was another small seating area, which converted to the bed. Turning to the main lower room, which was midship, she found an array of clothes, along with several flipflops. One of the storage cabinets was ajar, which must be where he stowed them. After checking sizes, she disrobed and sat on his bed in a pink bra and panties. It felt freeing to be released from the confines of her work outfits. Choosing a sage green T-shirt and white shorts with elastic, she slid them on. They fit, maybe a bit tightly, but they were decent. She picked a pair of multi-colored flipflops and inched her feet in them. She spied a navy hoodie and brought that along. She’d get cold out on the water at night. “There,” she said as she stood up. She felt the boat list so he must have released the dock moorings. She always helped Finn with that.
Turning to leave, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the port side. Her hair was a mess from the breeze and the wear and tear of the morning. She flicked out the pins, and unwound it. Then she started to wind it up again, and thought, the hell with it. She saw a cute visor on the bed, so she shook out her hair, fluffed it with her fingers and put the hat on her head. Then she climbed the stairs to the deck.
They were still in the marina. He was at the wheel, but turned to her. “I didn’t leave yet, I…oh, dear God in heaven!”
She panicked. “Did I wear something I shouldn’t have?”
He just watched her.
Then, slowly, he crossed to her. He took off the visor and let out a breath. “This is right out of a fairy tale, Rapunzel.”
She didn’t know how to react. “Yeah, I don’t know why I don’t cut it.”
“Hush your mouth. That would be a crime. It’s breathtaking.” Reaching over, he took some strands in his fingers. Rubbed them. Her stomach dropped. “Soft, silky. And so long. Hayley, why do you hide this?”
“It’s inappropriate for work.”
“You’d have the male jurors eating out your hand.”
“As if I’d try seduction.” She shrugged. “Besides, I’m not very good at it.”
He captured her gaze. “I highly doubt that.”
“You’re, um, making me feel…I don’t know. Like it’s inappropriate to be with you, I guess.”
“Because I invaded your personal space?”
“Not only that.”
“What is it?”
“Never mind, let’s go out on the water.”
He waited a few seconds, then let her hair drop and asked, “Do you need sunscreen?”
“Yes, I do.”
“It’s in the cockpit. Come on.” He led her to the bucket seats and fished a tube out of the storage space. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
Sitting on one of the benches, she slathered the cream on her face, rubbed some on her arms and on her legs. When she looked up, he was staring at her. “You’re making me feel that again.”
“Sorry.” He turned to the controls and soon, the motor roared to life.
* * *
Paul needed the smacks of air that hit his face. He welcomed the mid-day sun, too, hoping it would clear his head. But he could still see the mass of heavy waves falling down almost to her waist. Suddenly, he wondered if she’d let it out of the bun on purpose, wanted him to see it, to see her as a woman.
Now if that wasn’t wishful thinking…
He let the boat slap the water, up and down, for a long time. It was too windy and noisy to talk. When he slowed down, she started to get up. “Hold on, Hayley. Until we even out.”
“Aye, aye, sailor,” she said sassily.
They’d gone out far enough so all he could see was water around them. He killed the motor, hefted out the anchor and tossed it over the side. Now he turned to her.
She grinned. “That was fun.”
“You like this, don’t you?”
“Yes. As I said, Finn and I went out a lot. Still do. We used to take our cousins out, too, but we got estranged from them.”
“How?”
“I’d have to know you better to tell you that.”
She’d said the same thing in jail about her oldest brother.
“I feel the similarly about my background. So, Finn’s younger or older?”
“I’m the baby. Ronan’s the oldest.” Her eyes got mischievous. “You’ve probably seen him on television. Or in the movies.”
“Ronan Casella?”
“No, Ronny Case.”
“Ronny Case as in Rebel?”
“Yep.”
“Every teenage boy on the block wanted to be him.”
“I bet.”
“What happened to him? I still search online for him once in a while.”
“You won’t find him anywhere. He’s a ghost.”
He knew the feeling. “To you, too?”
She nodded.
“That must be hard.”
“It is. But Finn, who’s 34, is my best friend. We share a place in the city. I think I told you that.”
“Yes, you did.”
Before she could ask about his brothers and sisters, he said, “Are you hungry? Because I’m famished.”
“I am hungry.” He got up and she grabbed his arm. “Paul, it’s fine if you don’t want to share your background with me. Say so.” She arched a brow. “Instead of running away.”
“I’ll remember that.”
His mind was elsewhere as he pulled out a table stowed on one side and went to the deck fridge and got out champagne, fruit and croissants. He also had hunks of salami. “I stocked the boat yesterday because I was planning to go out after the trial ended.”
“I can help, you know.”
“Nah, you’re my guest.”
They sat on the padded benches with the table between them. He picked up the bottle. “Champagne?” she questioned. “But you lost.”
All he said was, “No, Jamie Callahan lost.”
“So, what should we toast to?”
“New friends?”
After that, Paul took surreptitious glances at her—when she popped a grape into her mouth, and tucked some cheese into a croissant then bit into it. He watched her mouth, when her tongue came out to lick her lips. At one point, he took in a breath he hoped she didn’t hear.
For sanity’s sake, he transferred his gaze to the water, as he ate too, appreciating the brie, gouda and cheddar. He bit into a strawberry. When he finished, he said, “So, Ms. Boat Person, you obviously know that the bow is the front of the boat and stern is the back. What’s each side called? And why?”
He saw the challenge light up her face. “I know, smarty pants. The term starboard is old English meaning the side on which the ship is steered. Before ships had rudders on their center lines, they were steered with an oar at the stern of the ship. Since more people are right-handed, it was placed on the right-hand side.”
He laughed. “You amaze me.”
She leaned over then. “You have something on your face.” She swiped the corner of his mouth with a fingertip painted a light pink. He wanted to grab her hand, kiss it, lick it. Lick her.
He downed the glass of champagne.
She stood. “How about I put everything away and keep out the Godiva and the champagne.”
“Great. I’m going for a swim.” Exactly what he needed after watching her make a sensuous banquet out of a cheeseboard.
“But you just ate.”
“Not that much. I’ll take a quick dip before the sun goes down.” If you want to join me when you’re done cleaning up, there’s bathing suits below deck, where the other clothes were.”
“I am hot.”
So am I.
As she put the food away, he whipped o
ff his T-shirt, went to the swim deck and dove in.
The water was cold enough to make him sane.
* * *
As she changed into a one-piece black Speedo, Hayley admitted that her stomach fluttered and goosebumps rose on her arms when she was with Paul. She could label the feelings. And wondered if Paul had, too, hence the swim.
You know, I read a study where suppressed attraction makes people fight with each other.
Had he been right all along? In any case, nothing could happen between them. She only wished her body would listen.
Ask to be taken home.
Never see him again alone.
She should, at the very least, inure herself against his luscious dark hair, his toned muscles, his cute butt. She looked at her clothes, neatly folded on the counter. Put them on, Hayley. Escape the situation.
The lawyer warred with the woman.
The woman won.
She tugged back her hair in a ponytail and climbed the stairs to the top deck. He was still in the water.
Shouting from there. “Hey, come on in.”
The sun felt good on even more bare skin. She walked to the swim deck and stepped onto it. Dived in.
The water was refreshing in mid-July. She took her time coming to the surface and found herself right in front of him.
His blue eyes picked up the color of the sky. “Do you swim?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Let’s go, then.”
They swam. Far. By tacit agreement they stopped. He called over, “Beat you back.”
“Like hell.”
Hayley was an excellent swimmer. She put her face in the water, kicked and was on her way. She didn’t look for him when she came up for air, but kept the boat in her sight. She got to the swim deck even with him.
“Geez,” he said. “Nobody else I know can keep up with me.”
Hayley held onto the fiberglass. “Always the competitor.”
“Again, pot and kettle, woman.” He pointed to the boat. “Ladies first.”
She levered herself up, and climbed back into the cabin cruiser. He stayed in the water, so she turned to him. “What are you doing?”
“Um, I’ll be right up.” He dunked his head under, and finally emerged. Then he followed her onto the platform and into the boat.