Island of Second Chances

by Cara Lockwood

  “I had...no idea.” She let out a breath, turning to face him. “I’m so sorry, I let go.” She couldn’t believe she’d done something so dumb, and it had nearly capsized the boat. “I mean one second we were...” She put her hand flat out to symbolize the boat upright on the water. “And the next...” She flipped the flat of her hand to one side.

  “You okay?” he asked, mouth in a thin line, eyes hidden by sunglasses.

  “Yeah,” she said, taking in a shaky breath. Was she? It all happened so fast.

  “Let me see your hand.” Mark pushed his sunglasses up on his head and she could see his dark eyes, strained with worry. She almost didn’t want to show him her palm, which still smarted from the rope burn. Eventually, she did, and he stared at it as if trying to read her future.

  “Does it hurt?” He traced the mark on unhurt skin, and his gentle touch made her feel a bit light-headed.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said.

  Mark frowned. “I think we should go in,” he declared and released her hand. “I’ve got some salve at home that will help that.”

  “No. Really, it’s barely a scratch. I’ll be fine.”

  Mark shook his head. One thing was for sure, his jovial mood had disappeared. “No. We’re going in,” he said, his sunglasses hiding his true feelings. Was he angry at her? Disappointed?

  “I’ll do better next time. I’ll—”

  “No.” Mark shook his head. “That’s enough for today.”

  “But...” She felt a sharp jab of disappointment jolt her stomach.

  “You won’t be much good out here with that injury. We should go back.”

  “No, I’m fine,” she said, but was she? Life on the sea changed so suddenly, and the boat had lurched so quickly, she just wasn’t sure she was ready for more excitement. Besides, she could almost feel her sunscreen losing its potency as the warm sun beat down on her bare shoulders. Still, she didn’t want to be the one to call the day. She’d be a trooper.

  “We’re going back in.” Mark glanced at the horizon and then back at land.

  “Don’t go for my sake,” she said. “I’m fine.” She rubbed her shoulders and clung a little tighter to the railing. She would be fine, too, in a minute, when she could catch her breath and if her palm stopped throbbing. Besides, she wasn’t even sure what had affected her more, the near capsizing or his strong embrace.

  Mark studied her, his dark eyes missing nothing.

  “No, we should head in.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not.”

  Laura let out a frustrated breath. No talking sense into Mark when he’d decided a course of action. The two fell into a more somber kind of silence. Laura didn’t know why with Mark the mood always changed so swiftly. Maybe it was better they’d be going in.

  * * *

  MARK DIDN’T LIKE seeing Laura hurt, and he definitely didn’t like the fact that he’d nearly lost her overboard. What was he doing, taking out a total novice out to sail when he knew how unpredictable the wind could be?

  He spent the entire ride back to the marina beating himself up. He should’ve waited until he could find an experienced crew hand to help him. Laura should’ve been a passenger, not someone he relied on. He’d put too much on her for a first sail, and he knew it. If he was on speaking terms with his brother, Edward would’ve said the same thing.

  He glanced at Laura, who stood on the bow of the boat. She looked unsure, clutching the railing with her good hand while she cradled the injured one in front of her. It was his fault she was hurt, and he couldn’t risk her being hurt any more. Not by him. Not out here on the ocean where bad things could happen. She needed to be safe. On shore. Where she belonged.

  After they pulled into the marina, Mark jumped off the boat with the line to lash it to the dock. He worked on securing it as Laura watched from the boat.

  “You still need a crew,” she said, eyeing him.

  “Edward’s got all the best people,” he answered, not looking up as he gave the knot a hard tug.

  “I could be on it. Your crew. You could teach me.”

  He froze as she made the suggestion. And watch her almost get swept overboard again? She wasn’t ready. Hell, he might never be ready to nearly lose her like that again.

  Mark shook his head.

  “It would take too long for me to teach you the ins and outs of racing,” he said, straightening. She stood at the ladder, hands on her hips.

  “You don’t think I can do it.” Her voice was all challenge. He glanced up and met her fierce green eyes. The sun brought out red highlights in her dark bob.

  “No,” he lied. He didn’t think she could do it. Some people took to the sea, and others didn’t. “It’s just not feasible for me to get you where you need to be by race time. And it’s dangerous. You saw how it can be, and that’s not under pressure, trying to go fast.”

  “I can do it.”

  “Even if you could, we still need three more people.” Mark stood near the ladder of the boat and held out his hand. There was only about a six-inch gap between the boat and the dock, but he wasn’t taking any more chances with her safety.

  She glanced at his open palm for a second and frowned. For a minute, he thought she might not even take it, but then she finally slipped her hand into his. He helped her down and kept his hand on hers a beat longer than necessary. He didn’t want to let her go, not really, but he did once she was safely on the dock.

  Her hair was windblown since her cap was long gone. He noticed the glow of a budding sunburn on her cheeks.

  “Edward has the best racers sewn up. People who’ve been sailing for years, and you...” He glanced at her wounded hand. She looked at it, sheepish. “Well, you’ll need a little while to heal from that.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not.”

  “Then maybe I could talk to your brother. Maybe he’d agree to let a racer go.”

  “No.” Mark whirled. “Don’t you talk to him.” His voice came out angrier than he wanted, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of her with his brother made his skin crawl. He didn’t want her anywhere near that man.

  “Hey. Okay. I just thought maybe you need a peace broker.” She held up her hands like a shield.

  “No, I don’t.” That’s the last thing on earth he wanted. Not talking to his brother was working out just fine for him. He didn’t need to break that habit.

  They walked to his pickup truck, and he opened the door. She glared at him, peeved. Of course, she was peeved. Women were always getting the wrong idea. He just wanted to protect her, so why wouldn’t she let him?

  He shut the door, feeling exasperated as he strode over to his side of the truck, slipped into the cab and revved the engine. Soon, they were on the five-minute drive to the condo. After that, she could easily head upstairs and away from him.

  Maybe that was best. Maybe it was foolish to think she could understand. She couldn’t help him, not now. The whole race was a hopeless pipe dream anyway. He shouldn’t have even set his heart on it. Besides, deep down, he knew all he really wanted to do was go out on the water and never come back. He didn’t need the prize money to do that, exactly. If he wanted to end his life, he could do it, prize money be damned.

  But her helping him do it...he just...he didn’t feel right about it. That’s what he really wanted to tell her. Don’t get involved in this. Don’t. He imagined what she’d think if he sailed off into the deep blue and never came back.

  He glanced sidelong at her as they drove and saw the hurt look on her face. She was already invested in him. How would she feel if all the work she’d done just led to him being lost at sea?

  He didn’t want that for her. He didn’t want that guilt.

  They sat in stony silence for most of the drive home. As they pulled into the condo parking lot, he put the truck
in Park and turned off the engine.

  “Maybe I could help you look for people,” she said, not looking at him, as if the conversation were still going. Clearly, she hadn’t let the subject drop. “If you can’t train me, or won’t,” she murmured under her breath, “maybe—”

  Frustration welled in him. He swung open his truck door and jumped out. She followed him, even as he grabbed the cooler and some other gear from the back and began loading it into the workshop.

  “Laura,” he cautioned.

  “I want to help.”

  He took his duffel bag full of gear and headed to his condo’s front door. She followed him. The woman just wasn’t going to let it go. “Look, I know you mean well, but it’s not all that easy.”

  She stepped up in his space, and now she was so close to him he could smell the salty sea air in her hair. “Why don’t you tell me why it’s not so easy? I want to help. And you keep trying to shut me out.”

  “I...” I don’t want to let you in. It would be too dangerous if I did.

  He pushed his key into the lock and swung open the door. She followed him inside.

  “What is it?” she asked, the accusation clear in her voice. “Why do you dislike me so much?”

  He dropped his duffel bag on the kitchen floor in frustration. Dislike her? He felt the opposite.

  “You run hot and cold, like a teenager,” she went on. “I can’t get a handle on you. Sometimes I think you must really hate me if you keep running so cold.”

  Cold? Every time she was near him, he could feel the heat in his blood, the base attraction that made him itch to touch her. Cold was the last thing he was feeling.

  “You’ve got it wrong,” he said, staring down at her bright green eyes. She glared at him, crossing her hands across her chest. Why did she always get it so wrong?

  “Oh, really? I don’t think so. I’m just trying to help you. That’s all I’ve been trying to do, and you just want to scare me off.”

  Because if you stay, I’ll really start to care about you. I might already care about you, actually, and it might be too late.

  He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Why didn’t the words come out?

  She glared at him, hurt clear in her eyes. She cared for him, too. That much was obvious by the look on her face.

  “You don’t like me.” The hurt there in her voice was so real. The anger and frustration seeped out of him. All he wanted to do was comfort her. Take her heart away.

  “No, that’s not true.” He took a deep breath. “I do like you. More than like you.” He ran a frustrated hand through his windswept hair. “I want you. I want you all the time. Even right now, I want to take you in my arms and kiss the holy life out of you.”

  “You...” Now, she just looked dumbfounded and doubtful.

  There was only one way to prove what he said was true. He put his arm around the small of her back and pulled her to him. She didn’t resist. Then he laid his lips on hers.

  Chapter Fourteen

  LAURA HADN’T BEEN expecting that. His passionate kiss took her by surprise, and she was suddenly once again in his arms and feeling the rush of blood in her ears as the thrill of kissing this man took over. She kissed him back, unable to help herself.

  Anger still pulsed in her temples, but it soon turned to unadulterated passion as he pulled her to him. She pressed her body against his, feeling his flat stomach and hard chest against her. His hands roamed her body, sending a little thrill down her back even as his tongue gently explored her mouth. She could taste sea spray on his lips, and all she wanted to do was dive deeper into him, get lost in the moment.

  She didn’t understand how this had happened so fast. One second, she was angry and hurt, and the next minute, passion overran every logical thought in her brain.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, and as the kiss deepened, the flame of desire inside her burned even brighter. She hiked one leg up on his hip, and he grabbed her leg, keeping it there, squeezing her knee in a way that made her moan. All she wanted to do was get horizontal somehow, as her knee dropped down and he walked her back to the couch. They flopped down, and he pressed down on top of her, his body weight on her deliciously heavy.

  His hand explored up the opening of her shorts and she welcomed his touch, experienced, knowing, gentle.

  Even as her brain warned her that he was emotionally unavailable, that she ought not to let this happen, her body screamed out, who cares? It wanted satisfaction in the moment, and a desperate need for physical intimacy took over. She wanted to touch someone and be touched, to be seen after feeling invisible for the last month. Invisible to Dean, invisible to the world, even invisible to her very self.

  Mark had been the first one to truly see her, she realized, since the miscarriage, to see all of her and know her flaws and still want to get this close.

  Mark pulled away, breath ragged, as his gaze found hers. “Are you sure?” he asked, a quiver of doubt in his voice, shaky with want.

  This was what she wanted. It was what she’d always wanted since their first kiss.

  “I’m sure,” she breathed with a hefty amount of enthusiasm.

  Mark laughed and she did, too. She tugged at his shirt, and then it was off over his head, and she was running her hands down his muscular, tanned chest. He closed his eyes as she explored him and dipped her hands into the waistband of his pants. He came to life beneath her touch, and her eyes widened in surprise.

  “Amazing,” she murmured, and he gave her a cocksure grin.

  “I aim to please,” he teased and then dipped down once more and kissed her with a passion that surprised her. He took a break once more as he tugged at her tankini top. In seconds, she’d wiggled out of it, and he trailed kisses down one breast, ending with a gentle tug of her nipple between his teeth.

  She moaned in ecstasy, arching her back as he twirled his tongue, flicking against the tender skin. He moved to the other side, repeating the gesture, almost sending her tumbling over the edge with just that gentle touch.

  Their eyes met, and she saw the want in them, as he followed the line of his hand down the front of her body. He stopped at her shorts and gave a hard tug. She helped him, lifting her butt, as her shorts and her bikini bottom slid off. Now she was completely bare, lying beneath him on his couch.

  She felt no shame. This was right. She wanted this connection more than she wanted anything. She wanted him to save her from the island of isolation she’d been stranded on since the miscarriage. Somehow, in this moment, she was convinced his touch would do that. Would make it all better.

  She could feel her bare back pressed against the soft fabric of his sofa. He straightened and moved away from her long enough to get his own shorts off, and then she saw him, fully naked before her. She reached out to touch him with both hands and he leaned into her touch, groaning with want.

  Now would be the time she ought to ask for a condom. The most logical parts of her brain knew she ought to. She wasn’t on the pill, after all. And there were STDs to consider, but in that moment, she just...didn’t care. None of that mattered, nothing mattered expect the feel of her hands on his body and how badly she wanted him inside her.

  He seemed equally in the same trance, as he lay back on top of her, as she opened her legs, welcoming him there.

  “Are you...sure?” he asked her, hesitating. She’d never been surer of anything as she nodded once. He entered her with a rush. She gasped.

  “Oh, God, you feel...so amazing,” he murmured, keeping eye contact, and she felt like she’d drown in his dark brown eyes. Staring at him, as he looked at her with such intensity, such amazement, made her feel like molten lava on the inside. “You’re the most amazing woman, Laura.”

  In that instant, she believed him. She rocked her hips to meet each of his thrusts, and soon she felt herself close to the edge as she moaned in pleasure.
He kept eye contact, and she felt seen for the first time in her life. Dean never looked at her during intercourse, never engaged on that level. But the eye contact, in this most intimate of moments, made her feel connected to Mark in a way she didn’t think was possible.

  “Come for me,” he encouraged her, eyes bright. “Come for me, beautiful.”

  Beneath the intensity of his stare, she did just that, reaching the climax of her life as pleasure exploded through her body and raced through her brain. She never lost eye contact, and the moment was amazing and real and so intimate. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she fought for control once more, her heart hammering in her chest as if it might break its way out.

  “Your turn,” she murmured, still knocked breathless by the hormones rushing through her veins.

  “I’ll...” Mark made a move to withdraw from her, but she didn’t want that. She didn’t want him coming outside. She wanted him deeper. She wrapped her legs around him.

  “No. Please.” She pressed her body against his, tilting her pelvis to him.

  “Oh, God. You’re going to make me...” And then he came, deep inside her with a guttural shout, a defiant surrender. He collapsed on top of her, shuddering, as the two lay holding each other with shaking arms.

  Laura knew it had been reckless. Dangerous, even, but she didn’t care in that moment. She craved the intimacy, the connection, and she’d gotten it.

  Mark lifted his weary head. “I’m sorry.” He glanced down. “I shouldn’t have come—” he swallowed “—inside you.”

  “I wanted you to,” she murmured, pushing his head down against her shoulder once more.

  “But—”

  “Shhh. Let’s just stay like this,” she said, not wanting to ruin the moment, this blissful, perfect moment of being connected. Of belonging. It’s what she’d craved all this time.

  He fell silent, his head on her shoulder, his fingers trailing the length of her arm.

  “You’re amazing,” he told her, and she soaked up the words like a flower blooming in sunlight.