by Annie Rains
“Stop worrying. Go. Find yourself a man.”
The image of Jack’s naked body slammed into Grace’s brain. No forgetting that. “I’ll call you tonight,” she said, turning to her car before her mother sniffed out the memory of one particular man last night.
“You can call, but I might be on a date,” her mother called to Grace’s back, making her laugh. Some things would never change. Her mother wasn’t exactly Mrs. Cleaver, but she did her best, even when it wasn’t enough.
Grace pulled into the parking lot of Sawyer Seafood Company at five minutes to eight and glanced over at the empty parking spot that Jack’s truck usually occupied. He wasn’t here. It might not be personal, she told herself. Maybe he was working on the new pier or the boat he was building.
Or maybe when she’d pushed him away last night she’d pushed him too far. Maybe that had been their last chance to be together and she’d blown it.
—
Jack avoided going into the Sawyer Seafood office for the next several days. He couldn’t avoid her this afternoon, though. He, Grace, and Noah were meeting to discuss the tournament. He was going to have to be near her and pretend that they hadn’t had some of the most amazing sex of his life. That it hadn’t changed everything—for him at least.
And that would be near impossible.
Jack finished up one side of the small boat he was building and stepped back. He and Chris had built the same design one summer in camp. They’d thought they were rock stars back then. Chris had even gotten himself a date out of it. Teen girls apparently liked guys who built boats.
Except Grace. She didn’t want to date. All she wanted was to be the captain of his boat. Jack pulled a ball cap over his head and grabbed his keys. A short drive later he pulled up to the pier where the Summerly was already put in the water. With a pale blue hull and yellow markings, the boat was the very image of summertime.
“Yo, bro!” Noah called out.
Jack waved and planted eyes on Grace in a blue one-piece bathing suit.
“Let’s go for a ride!” she called, wearing huge black sunglasses that covered half her face.
Jack tried to swallow past his suddenly dry throat. She’d said she wanted to forget that they’d had sex, but sex with Grace had been something he’d wanted for over a decade. Even after their families had broken up, he’d thought about her. Wanted her. Missed her.
Jack stepped up on the pier and headed toward the midsection of the boat. He hadn’t stepped aboard since the day Chris had fallen overboard. He still wasn’t even sure where exactly Chris had gone over. At the stern? The port side he was about to enter? His mind had been too absorbed in the catch that day. Had Chris called out for help?
“Hey, stranger.” Grace was standing in front of him. Her voice was light and airy, as if nothing had taken place between them. So this was how it was going to be between them now.
“Hey.”
“You okay?” she asked.
He’d probably been standing in this one spot for an exaggerated minute, thinking about his friend, mulling over his regrets. One thing he was certain of, the woman in front of him was not a regret. “Yeah.” He took in a deep breath and stepped up onto the boat. It was like riding a bike, he told himself, then quickly labeled himself a liar. Piloting a boat after losing your best friend wasn’t the same as pedaling a bicycle.
The boat rocked as he came aboard and Grace stumbled forward. Jack’s arms reflexively went out to catch her, grabbing her waist as her arms braced against his body. She felt good against him and he resisted letting her go.
“Oops.” Grace laughed as she worked to get her feet back under her.
“You okay?” Noah asked behind them.
Jack loosened his grip and Grace slipped away—for the second time in a week, thanks to his younger brother.
“Fine. Just clumsy. I’ve forgotten most of what your father taught me as a teen. I can’t even half stand up in a boat.”
“You’ll learn again,” Jack said. “A captain has to stand. Especially when we win this thing.”
Grace swiped her hair out of her face, pinning it behind her ears. “Well, I hear you’re the best.”
“Chris was the best,” Jack said, not meaning to dampen the mood. It was just the truth. He offered a smile. “But I’m not bad.” He turned her away from him and placed his hands on her shoulders as he guided her to the wheelhouse. There was a seat behind the helm and he gently nudged Grace to sit down. “I don’t want you taking another stumble. Thanks for putting her in the water,” he said to Noah.
“Her?” Grace laughed. “That’s a little sexist.”
“All boats are female.”
“Right. I remember that now. I thought your dad was crazy when he first taught me that.”
Jack laughed, then turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. A rush of adrenaline shot straight through him at the sound. He’d forgotten the spark he felt here at the helm of a boat, on the brink of an adventure.
“All right.” Noah stepped forward and slapped a hand against his. “I’ll go free the rope.”
A moment later, the three were out in the calm waters and setting forward. The boat cruised slowly as they navigated through a no-wake zone.
“The plan today is just to make sure the Summerly is running smoothly for the tournament. Grace, you can get a feel for the water again,” Jack explained. “You need your sea legs out here.”
“Sea legs. Right.” She nodded as she continued to sit.
Noah pulled a visor onto his head and handed Grace a ball cap. “You’ll fry if you don’t put something on, sis.”
Grace took the hat and pulled it on.
The sis endearment rubbed Jack the wrong way. So did Noah’s stopping by the other night. His younger brother was the reason Grace had pulled away, and Jack resented the hell out of that.
Noah whacked a hand down on the bill of Grace’s hat and Grace swatted him playfully. Just like a couple of real-life siblings.
Jack stewed and tried to ignore their banter. “Hold on,” he growled without meaning to. The boat passed the no-wake zone boundaries and he pushed the throttle forward. In response, the boat lurched forward, full speed ahead. At twenty knots, there was no room for talking, roughhousing, or thinking. It was just the boat and the wind—the best feeling in the world once upon a time.
Chapter 8
Grace held on to her ball cap as the Summerly zipped through the water. The wind on her face made it impossible to think. She could see why people loved doing this. Some chased their worries away by drinking—she’d seen that often enough working as a bartender at Dewy’s. Others let the wind clear their minds.
After a half hour, the boat slowed, bouncing on the wake of other boats in the water. It took a moment for Grace’s hearing to adjust to the absence of the engine and wind.
“This is where we’ll come on tournament day. It’s a favorite spot for us,” Jack said.
Grace lowered her arm, no longer needing to secure her hat. She stood, trying out her sea legs, as Jack had called them. “Then we throw our lines in the water and catch a fish?” she asked.
Jack and Noah shared a look, then burst into laughter.
“If only it was that easy, Captain. What exactly did my father teach you? You have to find the fish, lure it to your hook, and then somehow get that five-hundred-pound sucker on the boat. It can take hours,” Jack said.
“Don’t worry, though. All you have to do is steer and look pretty.” Noah bumped a featherweight fist against the side of her arm.
Grace swatted Noah’s hat off his head, loving how easily she’d slipped back into being his big sister. It was almost like they were kids again. The playful spirit between them was something she’d always treasured. She glanced over and caught the look on Jack’s face as she and Noah bantered. Jack’s jaw was locked. She couldn’t see his eyes through the sporty sunglasses on his face, but if she had to guess, the blue of them had darkened the way they did when he was upset. Jealous? S
he swatted his shoulder, too, surprised at the charge her body got from his. Playfully wrestling with Noah was a world different from sharing a touch with Jack. “You’ll let me do more than steer, right?” she asked, pulling her hand away quickly.
Jack lifted a brow under his shades. “You want to handle a pole?”
“Not on the day of the tournament, of course. I don’t want to get in the way. But I wouldn’t mind trying my hand at your favorite spot.”
His brow stayed up on his forehead. Yeah, referencing his favorite spot sounded a little dirty.
“Did you bring your rods today?” she asked, flustered. Her discombobulation grew as both of Jack’s brows lifted. She felt like smacking a hand against her own forehead. Who knew fishing lingo sounded so dirty? She pressed her lips together, afraid to say anything else.
Jack pointed to a screen on his dash. “This is a fish finder. Looks like the fish aren’t really here right now. None that we want to catch, anyway.”
Grace observed the screen of neon-green lines. “Isn’t that cheating?”
“It’s only cheating if the other guys don’t have it,” Noah chimed in. “And believe me, they all do.”
Grace nodded. “Okay. So no fishing at your favorite spot today.” She placed her hands on her hips and stared at the water for a long moment. “That’s it? This is what you guys do all day?”
Jack laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“So I work harder than you two, then? That’s it. I should get a raise,” she joked. The pay she got at Sawyer Seafood was better than anywhere she’d ever worked.
“Keep doing a great job in the office and we’ll talk to Dad,” Noah told her. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a taut, tanned chest. She could appreciate that Noah had a great body, but it didn’t do anything for her. It was kind of gross actually, because she felt like a sister toward him. “I’m going for a swim, you two,” he said.
Grace’s lips parted. “What about sharks?”
Noah and Jack shared another look. She was starting to hate that. Then Noah walked to the front of the boat and dove off with a huge splash.
Leaving Grace alone with Jack.
“We’ve been in the water since the day we were born. We’re not scared of sharks,” Jack said, his voice lowering to one that curled her toes inside her flip-flops.
She wished he’d take off those sunglasses. She wanted to see his eyes. She wanted to know if the desire that she’d seen before the other night was still there. Or if she’d squashed it when she’d pulled away. She wasn’t sure which outcome she was hoping for. “About the other night…” she began, pretty sure that Jack would stop her. He didn’t. Instead, he just watched her. And crap. She didn’t know what else to say after that. She didn’t have anything to say about that night. She didn’t even know how to feel about it.
She stepped forward and lifted Jack’s sunglasses, setting them on the top of his head. “There. I can’t talk to someone if I can’t see their eyes.”
His blue eyes sharpened, and her heart rode up in her throat. The desire was definitely still lit in their depths. Surprising her, he took a step closer. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. And despite her fear of starting something with him, there was nothing in the world she wanted more than to feel his lips brushing against hers. Especially with that new growth of hair that he’d neglected to shave this morning and probably yesterday, too. Instead of a kiss, though, he mimicked her actions and lifted her sunglasses off her face, perching them on the crown of her head. “Fair is fair,” he said, his stare unwavering. “You were saying,” he said in a low voice—the kind that belonged in the bedroom. Her bedroom.
She swallowed and decided to go with wholehearted honesty. “You were supposed to cut me off and say you don’t want to talk about the other night. That we should just forget it. Then I would agree and things would go back to normal between us.”
The corner of Jack’s mouth quirked on one side. “I missed the memo on that one, I guess.” He was standing so close to her. The space between them was nothing, and everything. “For the record, I think we should definitely not forget the other night. I happen to like remembering it.”
She swallowed hard. “You do?”
“Definitely.”
Her gaze slid into the distance where Noah was swimming, oblivious to the two of them.
The voices in her head were suddenly so loud. Her own voice, scared and afraid of another rejection down the road. Her mother’s voice telling her to find a man. Jack’s voice the other night telling her she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “I still don’t want to ruin this new chance with your family and Noah.” The space between them was disappearing as they drew closer together, like magnets unable to avoid the attraction. “And this tournament is important to me. I don’t want to risk this opportunity.”
“So we keep things quiet between us for now. My family doesn’t have to know anything until after we win this thing.” Both sides of his mouth were curving up now, poking dimples in his boyish cheeks. Those dimples were the only boyish part of Jack Sawyer.
God, she really wanted to kiss him right now. “What if we mess things up between us?” she asked, standing skin close.
“The only way we do that is if we don’t take the chance. If it doesn’t work, we can pretend it never happened then. We can go back to being friends.”
“Nothing lost,” Grace said, staring shamelessly at his lips. She wanted to believe everything he was saying—even though in her heart she knew that this was her last chance with Jack, and if it didn’t work, they’d probably never talk again.
“Nothing lost.” One of Jack’s hands anchored on her waist, reeling in her body flush against his. She was caught, hooked, and not even trying to slip away this time.
“Okay,” she said, suddenly dizzy from the rush of blood flowing away from her brain and down to other areas.
A splash caught both of their attention. Jack’s hand retreated and he took a step backward. “How about I come by tonight?” he asked, sliding his gaze to her.
She nodded, aware that Noah was swimming back toward the boat. “I’ll make dinner.” She took another step backward as the boat rocked under Noah’s weight.
“You two are standing in the exact same place I left you,” Noah noted, grabbing a towel and rubbing it over his face.
“We’re strategizing,” Jack said, eyes locked on Grace.
She pulled her sunglasses back over her eyes. “That’s right. We need a strategy.”
Noah grinned. “So serious. Fishing is supposed to be fun, you two.” He draped his towel over his shoulders. “The boat is running smoothly. We just need to change the oil before the big day and we’ll be good.”
Jack nodded. “I’ll handle that.”
“Great. Gotta get back, bro. I’m meeting Krista for a late lunch,” Noah said.
“My Krista?” Grace asked.
Noah shrugged. “Well, she’s my Krista at least once a week.”
“They’re just friends, though,” Jack noted sarcastically, standing behind the helm and sliding the boat back into gear.
“It’s true. We’ve been doing this since junior high. And she’s dating some douchebag right now anyway. I tried to tell her the guy’s a loser, but she won’t listen.”
Grace frowned. “I met Jeremy the other day. He seemed nice to me.”
“Yeah, if you like that sort. He’s not her type,” Noah said, frowning for the first time since boarding the boat at the dock.
“And neither are you, right?” Jack asked.
“Heck, no, man.” Noah shuddered. “She’s more like a sister than someone I’d—” He shook his head. “It’s not like that. That’d be like one of us dating Grace.”
Grace’s cheeks burned.
“Yeah. It’d be just like that,” Jack agreed, eying her. Then he pushed the throttle forward and rocketed the boat back across the water.
—
Jack didn’t usually get nervou
s. But stepping up to Grace’s door later that night made his palms sweat. What if he screwed it up somehow?
The door opened before he could knock and Grace stared back at him. She was dressed in a soft flowing skirt and fitted cotton top.
“Hi,” she said with a smile. Then she stepped aside and gestured him inside her apartment.
The smell of something fried aroused the rest of his senses. “It smells good. What’re you cooking?”
“Well, I figure you get enough fish, so I’m making chicken Alfredo. It’s kind of my specialty. Are you hungry?”
Jack tried to keep his eyes on her face. He was hungry all right, but not for food. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” He watched Grace turn and head into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. It’ll be done in just a little bit.”
“Can I help?” he asked, leaning against the countertop.
Grace grabbed a metal sheet covered with sliced bread. “You can butter these.”
“You expecting a crowd?” he asked, noting the eight pieces of bread.
“Just you and me.” Her gaze snagged on his.
“That’s good.” He lifted the butter knife that she’d placed in front of him. “Because I can’t wait to get my hands on you again.” He loved the way her chest and neck flushed when he lowered his voice and said suggestive things.
She cocked her head to the side. “Well, you’ll have to, because my specialty dish is best when it’s hot.”
“I can wait,” he said, slicing the knife through the butter and smearing it across the bread. “I’m a fisherman, after all. Or I was. I’ve been known to sit for hours without a bite. I’m a patient man.” From the corner of his eye he saw her squirm. “I wonder if you can wait, though.”
Grace giggled softly. He could hear the nerves laced in the sound. “A little presumptive, aren’t you?”
“I don’t think so. What we had the other night was pretty damn good.” He lifted his gaze from the bread. “But I’m confident I can do better.”
Her pretty pink lips rounded and she dropped the wooden spoon she’d been holding. Rushing to pick it up, her skirt slid up on her thighs. Teasing her was good foreplay. Watching her cook was good foreplay, too.