“The guy your nephew sent over to haul you in if you resist going to shore under your own steam.”
She couldn’t quite make out his expression, but his voice was rock-steady, and she knew he was serious. Of course, he could be a serious lunatic. Or… “What does my nephew have to do with this? Where is he?”
“The kids had their own plans. They asked me to baby-sit. So, please get your sweet tush in gear. I’ve got other things to do.”
She turned away from him, still yearning for a long swim, her body hungry to cut through the expanse of water around her. “Don’t even think about it.” He purred like a tiger.
Suddenly, Rachel felt less at ease. She reversed position again and stared at him. From the light glistening off his shoulders, she could see he was at least twice her size. With his broad chest and big arms, he easily treaded water. Was probably a good swimmer, and stronger than she was. No point in arguing even if she would have liked to remain. “Shoot!” she murmured in frustration.
Was that a chuckle she heard? She glanced toward the man but couldn’t make out his expression. Turning toward shore, she began a leisurely crawl.
“At this rate, we’ll be here all night,” said her new partner. “You can do better than that.”
“Well, Aquaman, I’m not in any hurry. But don’t let that stop you from surging ahead.”
He said nothing, just paced himself to match her stroke, and her hypothesis was confirmed. He had good form. Her curiosity was aroused, but when she eventually touched bottom, she resisted the urge to chat. Instead, she walked toward the beach without giving him a single glance. She pushed her hair back and scanned the area for her towel.
“To the left” came the deep voice, more relaxed now.
That voice could still belong to a lunatic. She reached for her towel and started drying off. Her escort stood a few feet away, quietly watching. When she’d put her shorts back on, Rachel studied him—all of him—for the first time. She looked up. And up. Interesting.
“Good night,” she said, turning to leave.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, his pointed tone carrying a message.
She made a half turn and counted to three under her breath. “You’ve been a good Boy Scout, and I’ll commend you to the community. But I don’t recall asking for assistance.”
His silhouette blocked the moonlight, and once again she couldn’t make out his features. All she knew was that his full attention was focused on her. But he didn’t reply.
Instead, he shook the water from his arms and tried to dry himself off with his hands. Obviously, the man hadn’t expected to take a dip this time of night. Rachel threw her towel to him.
“Thanks,” he said.
She nodded.
As he used the cloth, Rachel took the opportunity to study his muscled arms and legs. Her second assessment of him in the water had been correct. The man had a swimmer’s build—a definite natural for the butterfly stroke.
He returned the towel and said, “Next time don’t swim alone.” He turned on his heel, muttering something about women, water and trouble.
The man was leaving without getting what he’d deserved, and somehow, Rachel took no satisfaction in it. “Thank you,” she called.
He pivoted back to her. “You’re entirely welcome.”
She couldn’t see his smile, but it came through in his tone.
“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he added.
She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m only here for a few days visiting family.”
“Well, have a nice time, and have a nice life. Stay safe.” He headed for the opposite end of the beach without looking back.
She stared at his retreating figure. He seemed happy to be rid of her despite his comment about seeing her around. She shrugged. Just as well. Her own life was complicated enough right now.
She started for home. If her first night’s adventure in Pilgrim Cove was any indication of what lay ahead for the rest of the week, she was in for an interesting visit. Rachel chuckled at the thought. Who would have imagined that sleepy little Pilgrim Cove could provide excitement to anyone, especially to a native like herself?
AT NOON THE NEXT DAY, Rachel stared into the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. The blue suit fit well—straight skirt ended mid-knee—and had no creases anywhere. She’d pressed it lightly for the second time about an hour earlier to make sure. Her cropped dark hair was in place, longer feathered bangs brushed to one side, an easy style that suited her lifestyle. Small gold earrings, light makeup to cover freckles and a soft honey lipstick completed her professional image.
Although the interview would be held in the Town Hall offices of the school board, Rachel couldn’t help feeling as if she were returning to the scene of the crime. The scene of her own high school days. Her first goal this afternoon would be to correct any impressions of herself from years ago that might be held by individuals on the hiring committee. Although the opportunity at Pilgrim Cove Regional High School was not her first choice of positions, she was going to act as though it was.
She picked up her slim briefcase, which held copies of her résumé and prior evaluations, grabbed her purse and went downstairs to the kitchen.
“Perfect!” Her mom’s reaction made Rachel smile. “They’d be crazy not to hire you.”
Rachel looked at her dad and winked. “All it takes is a blue suit, huh?”
“And you in it.”
Four little words. They crashed against her like waves pounding the shore. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled. She grabbed the back of a chair. “Wha-what did you say?”
“My dear, Rachel…Rachel.” Her dad looked stricken, his voice barely above a whisper. “I say Pilgrim Cove High would be lucky to get you!” His step was heavy as he came closer to her. “You can handle this job or any other one you want.”
Was this the same father who thought she’d never amount to anything? That she’d never measure up to her brother? Who was embarrassed by her? She stared at her dad as though seeing him for the first time, not as his teenage daughter but as one adult to another.
She shook her head slowly. “I’m not particularly clever or smart. I just like kids. And I work hard.”
Her dad studied her, hardly blinking. “You’re as gifted as anyone else. More than most. With your diplomas and your successful career, I thought you understood that by now.” He gazed at the floor, then at her. “Why do you think you’re so good at your job?”
“’Cause I hated high school,” she quipped, suddenly uncomfortable.
He winced, his complexion turning pink. “That’s one way of putting it,” he replied in a raspy voice. “But I would say that you understand the wide range of adolescent experiences. You’re the best ally a teen could have.”
Shocked by his compliments, Rachel could only stammer, “Th-thank you.” In fact, she was somewhat dazed. Thirty-one years old, still thirsting for her dad’s approval, and getting it for the first time in her life. And yet, not understanding him at all.
“I’d love to continue this conversation, Dad,” she said, “but your timing’s lousy! I’ve got an interview shortly.”
“Then, as they say in show biz, ‘knock ’em dead.’”
She stepped back and shook her head in disbelief. “What a visit! Last night, it was the guy on the beach, and now this…. Life is more interesting than I anticipated. Hey, folks. I’m glad I came home.”
“See!” said Pearl to her husband. “Now you can enjoy yourself, enjoy our daughter. Miracles do happen. What more do you want?”
“I want to know what guy on the beach?”
Rachel laughed and took her father’s car keys. “Nothing to worry about. Never saw him before, and I’ll never see him again. Probably a summer resident or somebody’s visitor.”
She let herself out the door and got into the car, determined to make a second miracle happen. Determined to become the first-ever assistant principal for academic studies at Pilgrim Cove Regi
onal High School. What she’d formerly considered a dress rehearsal had turned into opening night.
TOWN HALL WAS LOCATED in the heart of the Pilgrim Cove business district, two blocks from the library on Sloop Street, which ran parallel to Main, just one block south. Rachel drove the two miles from her parents’ house and pulled into the side parking lot of the three-story red brick building.
Rachel entered through the front door, approached the receptionist and was led into the room where she’d be interviewed. Five people sat at a round table. Paper, pens and copies of her submitted paperwork lay in front of them. In unison, they rose to their feet when she appeared. Of the five, she recognized only one. The one person who’d believed in her when she was a kid. Dr. Edward Bennett, principal of the high school, had written her recommendations for college admission, had told Lou what a terrific daughter he had within her earshot and had even attended a swim meet or two.
He greeted her warmly, then introduced her to the others. When she finally sat down, she was briefed on the hiring procedure. She quickly learned that Dr. Bennett had no vote except in case of a tie. She learned that the board wanted to fill the position as soon as possible and was canvassing hard to get a qualified pool of candidates on short notice.
“The first year of service will be provisional, not permanent,” said one committee member. “No guarantees that the person in the job will be there for a second year.” The woman studied Rachel. “You’d be relocating about fifteen hundred miles from your current residence, Ms. Goodman, for a position that might not work out. Does that concern you?”
Rachel took a moment before replying. “It seems to me that a provisional appointment can work both ways.” A smile tugged the corner of her mouth as she met the woman’s gaze. “The new hire might not like the position and might well want to leave at the end of one year. The search would have to be reopened under those conditions as well.”
The questioner’s eyes widened, and Rachel leaned forward. “However, that won’t happen with me. Our high school was outstanding when I was a student here. I’d like to see us regain that reputation.”
“I second your goal,” said Dr. Bennett, “and I’d like to hear your ideas, but first, let’s get everything out in the open and out of the way.”
He was referring to her own student history. The poor grades, her focus on sports over academics, her genius of a brother whom she couldn’t measure up to…things she wouldn’t be discussing if she were interviewing anywhere else. Reputations in small towns never left a person, and the committee members were definitely aware of hers.
She purposely relaxed her hands in front of her, and nodded at her old champion. “I totally agree, Dr. Bennett.” She looked around the table. “My teenage years were not happy here. Family relationships, peer relationships and schoolwork—everything was a mess. My mom says I was a ‘late bloomer.’ I think I was simply a confused youngster trying to find my way. In the end, I did. And that, I think, qualifies me to work with all high school students, including the misfits. I deal with each individual in a holistic way. Every child has potential. It’s up to us to tap into it.”
She glanced at Dr. Bennett. His eyes twinkled and he nodded. A tiny nod that warmed her. Too bad he didn’t have a vote!
An hour passed. Rachel spoke about her knowledge of state regulations, the standardized testing program, supervisory and administrative experience, and her methods of dealing with parents. As she spoke, she was also amazed at how far she’d come since she started her teaching career nine years earlier. Finally, there were no more questions.
“Would you care to make any last statements?” asked the woman who seemed to be chairing the discussion.
“Yes. Yes, I would.” She looked around the table, meeting each person’s glance, one at a time. “Regardless of my own issues as a youngster, I took pride in attending Pilgrim Cove Regional High School, and I want to see it on top again. I realize that the community will be watching me, judging my performance perhaps more closely than if you hired someone with no prior connection to Pilgrim Cove—the town or the school.” She leaned forward in her seat. “The promise that I can make to you today is that I will do my best for the school and for each student, and that I will take full responsibility for my actions.”
She took a breath and let quiet settle on the room. “I’ll be in town for a week. Feel free to contact me if you have any more questions. And thank you very much.”
A minute later she was back in the summer sunshine, glad to be outside, glad the meeting was over. And feeling good about it. As she tilted her head toward the sun, trying to judge the time, she stepped lightly down the short flight of stairs in front of the building, and crashed into a wall that hadn’t been there when she’d come in.
“Oof!” Her arms flailed, her briefcase dropped from her hands. Sheets of paper hit the ground. Not hers. She grabbed for the banister.
“I’ve got you.”
The voice was low, warm, sexy. And tinged with humor. Strong arms held her against a broad body. A definitely masculine body.
Her nose pressed against his chest. She wiggled her head, tilted it back and raised her glance at least six inches. A nice surprise. His green eyes twinkled down at her, then widened a bit before he released her and gathered his fallen documents.
“If you’re on the interviewing committee, you’re too late,” said Rachel, leaning against the railing. “It’s all over but the shouting. Or should I say the debating?”
“Nah,” said the man. “No committee. Just complying with some bureaucratic bull…. hmm.” He waved the papers, then glanced at his watch. “And I’ve got three minutes to hand this mess in. But hey, maybe I’ll see you around.”
Ding! She’d heard those words recently. Last night, in fact. She studied the man’s retreating back until he paused and turned toward her.
“No more swimming alone.” He waved and bestowed a heartbreaker’s grin, then bounded up the stairs.
So, she’d been right. He was the same guy she’d met the night before. Despite his no-nonsense demeanor about water safety, he was a dyed-in-the-wool flirt with sparkling green eyes, a square jaw and a body…yeah, he had a body.
But not for her. She didn’t have a job, a home or a clear view of her future. So a relationship right now was out of the question. Besides, she wasn’t good at relationships. She never allowed anyone to get too close.
She shrugged. The solution was not to get involved. Easy enough when she didn’t even know his name.
CHAPTER THREE
ONCE AGAIN, HE HADN’T gotten her name! Jack Levine entered Town Hall, delivered his personnel forms and left, all the while laughing at himself. Two opportunities and he’d blown them both! Could he be losing his touch? He flinched at the thought. He’d prefer to blame the missed opportunity on the surprise of the moment. And it wouldn’t be a lie at all. He’d been totally amazed at reconnecting with the same woman who’d lingered in his mind since the previous night.
Connect was the word. They couldn’t have connected any more closely! He’d enjoyed holding her. He’d liked the weight of her leaning against him. Slender, but sturdy. Full of harnessed energy. He could sense her vibrations even when she stood still. And her hair! A dark, rich sable—short and sassy and temptingly thick. He’d wanted to touch it. In fact, he almost had. But touching her—even her hair—was not an option. Yet. And might never be if his technique didn’t improve pretty darn quick. Of course, he hadn’t used any technique last night on the beach, just old-fashioned intimidation. But…damn, she was an idiot to swim alone.
The Atlantic never gave second chances. He’d learned that the hard way—with Kevin. He clenched his jaw, then forced himself to change his thoughts as precisely as he changed a television channel.
As he walked to his car, he filled his mind with images of the mystery woman. Too bad she’d only be in town for a week. He liked tall women, women who didn’t cause a crick in his neck. Seemed the tall, pretty ones were hard to find. N
ot that he was looking for anyone special. Not now and maybe never.
He’d never had the urge to settle down, and his social life suited him just the way it was. Short-term relationships with independent females who knew the score, and who didn’t look back. Those women and lots of parties! He liked to have a good time, and all his friends knew it. Hell! His married friends depended on him to keep the single women entertained. And he never disappointed. He still had the energy of a twenty-year-old—enough for both him and Kevin.
But as much as he enjoyed his leisure time, he enjoyed his working time more. If he had a loyalty to any female on earth, it was to the mighty Atlantic. He’d grown up on her northern shores. He’d learned to read her moods and to treat her with respect.
He rubbed the back of his neck. Tension had crept in, catching him unawares. But he knew why. He slipped on his sunglasses and unlocked his truck, pausing before he climbed in. Thinking about the past always made him tense.
Jack got into his pickup and headed toward Main Street. It was time to see Bart Quinn about renting a house in town. He passed the Diner on the Dunes where he’d had a couple of good meals. In fact, he’d seen Bart and his friends arrive there two mornings ago just as he was leaving. Seemed they had a breakfast club of some kind with a funny name. What was it? His brow wrinkled in thought, but in a moment, he chuckled. The ROMEOs. He shook his head in agreement. If the old gents thought of themselves as Romeos, well, more power to them!
He pulled into a spot in front of Quinn’s brick office building and found himself looking forward to chatting with the agent again. Bart Quinn was a real character.
Two long windows framed each side of the front door over which hung a sign proclaiming: Quinn Real Estate and Property Management. Jack ran up the few steps and let himself in. Mellow wood paneling, framed seascapes and pictures of Pilgrim Cove greeted his eyes. He walked farther into the entrance hall and recognized the town harbor in one print and the private marina where his own boat was anchored in another.
Reluctant Housemates Page 3