A Calculated Romance

by Violet Sparks

  "You're getting a little pink," James remarked before pulling out a small tube of zinc cream and placing a dab on his forefinger. "Hold still," he commanded, then rubbed the white paste over the tip of her nose.

  "Thanks, I think," she said, giggling.

  "Hungry?" he asked.

  "And how."

  He reached for the cooler, removing two bottles of water, cellophane-wrapped sandwiches, and a bag of chips. Ireland downed her water at once, never realizing she'd become dehydrated swimming in the cold water. She nibbled on the club sandwich while James opened the potato chips. After polishing off her lunch, Landi pulled the throw over her bare legs and drifted off to sleep.

  Jim watched over her as she dozed. He knew she had to be worn out. He'd enjoyed seeing her battle the current. Most of all, he loved watching her beam with joy as she rode each wave. She had no idea how adorable she looked in her little red shorts and black spandex shirt, braid trailing down her back. This was a girl you could enjoy the simple things in life with.

  Landi slept for three hours, making up for the restless night she'd just had. James enjoyed giving his eyes free reign to roam over her while she slumbered. She'd blush if she guessed at his thoughts—or maybe, she'd slap him. He hoped not, but with Ireland, it was difficult to tell. As open as she was, he couldn't ascertain if she felt anything for him or if she even felt an attraction to him. She certainly never seemed impressed by him, nor did she flirt like other women.

  "Hey, sleepy head," he said when her lashes fluttered open.

  "How long was I out?" she muttered.

  "Not long, Kumquat. It's only five p.m."

  "What?" she said, sitting up.

  He brushed a stray wisp of hair from her cheek.

  "Want a cookie?" he asked, handing her an misshapen chocolate chip treat. "Made them myself," he added, stuffing one in his mouth.

  She stared at the odd shaped mound of dough before taking a bite. It tasted good.

  "I can tell," she said with a smirk, chewing.

  He wagged an eyebrow in her direction.

  "Delicious," she mumbled, her mouth full.

  "How about a walk?" he suggested.

  She agreed, and they strolled for what seemed like miles up and down the beach, keeping a slow but steady pace. James held her small hand, enveloping it with his massive paw while caressing her fingers with his thumb. Landi prattled on about the various waves they'd ridden and how she loved the ocean.

  "Sometimes, at certain times of the year, you can see whales breaching out there," he said, pointing north towards Malibu.

  "Oh, I'd love to witness that," she said.

  "Great Whites, too," he added.

  "What? Really?" she shrieked.

  "Yep."

  "I'm not sure I love the ocean anymore, James. Didn't you see Jaws?" she asked, horrified.

  "Well, so far, they haven't caused any trouble, and they don't come that close to the shore. Although, there's a spot in Orange County where some pretty big sharks hover around near the sand."

  "Yikes," Landi said, a shiver running up her spine.

  "You had a good time today, though, right?"

  "I had the best time today, James. Thank you so much for bringing me to the beach and teaching me to boogie board. I couldn't imagine a better day."

  She glanced up at him with such a warm smile, it took all of his will power not to capture her lips with a kiss.

  "You'd find surfing even more exciting," he commented, training his eyes on the waves crashing beyond the shore.

  "Really? It looks too difficult to learn," she said with another shiver.

  Landi glanced at the ocean. The waves had grown to an intimidating size over the course of the afternoon.

  "I could teach you. Next time, we'll give that a shot," he said, a grin spreading across his face at the thought.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Hey, I if I taught Katrina, I can teach you!" he said, adding an imperious tone to his voice.

  "Want to come to church with me tomorrow?" she asked, suddenly changing the subject.

  James thought about his last two experiences on Holy ground. In Texas, the pastor had preached a sermon about love, and so had the minister at his sister's wedding. How bad could sitting a couple of hours in a pew with Ireland be?

  "Hmm, maybe," he said, scratching his chin as if deep in thought.

  Before she could say anything, James threw her over his shoulder and headed for the water, trotting.

  "I hear a bee buzzing," he replied over her demands to be put down.

  Landi pounded her fists on his back to no avail.

  "I mean it, Jim. Put me down!"

  He easily flipped her into his arms and swung her small body over the ocean spray.

  "Whatever you say, Kumquat," he said with a smirk. "One for the money, two for the show, three—"

  Ireland threw both arms around his neck and clung for dear life. She could only think of the humongous waves crashing fifty yards out, not their two-foot remnants swirling around Jim's legs close to shore. He more than enjoyed the way she plastered her torso against his bare chest. Her high-pitched screams caused the bones in his ear to vibrate, but it was worth it. He dropped to his knees, allowing the water to rush over her while still maintaining his tight grip. She screamed even louder, digging her fingers into his back and almost throttling him with her arms.

  "All right," he said, rising. "No need to get hysterical."

  As he trudged back through the surf, she brought up sharks, large waves, and riptides.

  "I could have done without that last hurrah, James," she said, perturbed, when he finally lowered her to the sand beside their blanket. "Plus, I'm freezing," she added.

  She found her feet quickly and gave him a penetrating stare. His eyes danced as she made note of their deep blue color. So, he enjoyed pranks. Before she could think up a way to get back at him, he pulled her into an embrace. She tried to break free, but his strong arms kept her pinned against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head, further restricting her movements. A brief panic overtook the girl, and she inhaled deep draws of oxygen, trying to calm down. James held her, not Rick, she told herself—James with laughing, azure irises, not the dark brown, brooding eyes of her former beau.

  "Time for your secret," he growled in a low tone and loosened his hold.

  She pulled away and said, without missing a beat, "I've always wanted a brother."

  Ireland watched as James began packing up the beach gear. She'd seen a strange look flash across his face before he turned and yanked at the corner of the blanket, folding it into a jumble. Then, he jerked his cooler from the sand and trudged towards the car.

  "Time to get you home," he rumbled over his shoulder without looking at her.

  Jim stewed all the way to her apartment. He regretted agreeing to attend church with her the next day. A brother she did not need. Her words had stung. He jerked his car to the curb and stomped the brakes, eager to be rid of the girl. He didn't bother getting out to open her door or see her in.

  Instead, he said, "I've got bachelor pad, a regular love nest, in the local mountains," glaring in her direction.

  His words hung in the air for several moments. Ireland, unsure of his meaning, fixed her eyes on his, trying to get a read on the man.

  "Is that your secret?" she asked, finally.

  James felt relief. He had begun to whither under her silent, intense gaze.

  "Yes," he snarled.

  Ireland smiled and opened the car door, breathing in the cool afternoon air. Her fears allayed, she sauntered to her apartment. His surreptitious lair might be sleazy, but at least his declaration was not a proposition, as she'd first thought.

  Chapter 11

  -Hellfire and Brimstone-

  Great.

  Jim adjusted his position. Was it hot in here? Instead of preaching a sermon on love, the minister roared about sin and repentance. The man's piercing dark eyes flitted around the congregation, but they
seemed to always land on him.

  Why does he keep staring at me?

  He withdrew a handkerchief from the pocket of his slacks and swiped it across his slick forehead. Ever since his last tour of duty, he'd had the problem of his face breaking out in a sweat at odd times. He imagined the eyes of the parishioners focusing on him. James cast a side glance at Landi, who seemed calm, cool, and collected. The girl smiled sweetly at the pastor.

  She obviously has little to repent of. No wonder she's enjoying this.

  He began to suspect she knew about the sermon topic before inviting him.

  Now you sound paranoid, he told himself.

  "If you don't break yourself on the Rock, the Rock will break you!" Old Brown Eyes yelled at the crescendo of his message, giving the pulpit a good thump with his fist for effect.

  James shifted his eyes around the congregation. Heads nodded while a few people said Amen. He appeared to be the only person agitated.

  They filed from the sanctuary, the line of church goers plodding along up the main aisle. From a distance, he could see the light at the end of the tunnel, literally—open doors on the other side of the foyer. Jim couldn't wait to get out of the building.

  "This is my friend, James Crimshaw," Ireland introduced him to the minister.

  Jim hadn't seen the pastor lurking just out of view in the large entryway. The man appeared much smaller now that he wasn't behind a pulpit. He smiled at James with warm eyes, not the hawk-like glare he'd fixed upon him during the sermon.

  Ambushed! Trapped! Bushwhacked!

  "Nice to meet you, young man. What did you think of my message?" the older man asked in a pleasant, almost affectionate voice, offering a handshake.

  It wasn’t often Jim was at a loss for words. He cast a quick glance at Landi who kept a saccharine smile plastered in place, beaming at the minister. She obviously admired the guy. James stumbled and stuttered before answering, distracted by the surprisingly firm grip of the preacher.

  "Very, uh, relevant."

  "Thank you," the pastor replied, his eyes twinkling with light as he released his grasp and placed his hand on Jim's shoulder. "I hope you'll come again," he added as the couple shuffled past him.

  Fat chance.

  Outside, he took a welcome gulp of fresh air before grabbing Landi's hand and leading her to the car. He couldn't wait to put some distance between himself and that minister.

  "Did you notice how hot it was in there? I think they exceeded the fire marshal's capacity limit, for sure. Why did your preacher keep staring at me during the sermon?" he asked in quick succession as they drove away.

  He looked askance at his companion. James guessed she'd shared information about him with the man. Why else would he focus on him during the message? Yesterday, her comment about wanting a brother had hurt his pride. He'd mentioned his mountain home as a way to get back at her, show her he didn't care for her while making her jealous. He wanted a reaction from the girl, but he got nothing. Calling it a love nest and bachelor pad had been a stretch. The only female guest he'd ever invited had been his sister. Now, he suspected she'd blathered the information to her pastor and church friends.

  "He did not."

  "Yes, he did. Other people in the congregation did too," he said, scowling and growing agitated with her denials.

  Silence reigned in the car for a few minutes as Jim sped towards her apartment. Landi began to snicker quietly under her breath. He could see her shoulders bouncing up and down out of the corner of his eye as she attempted to stifle her laughs.

  "What's so funny, Kumquat?"

  It was bad enough she thought of him as a brother. Now, she mocked him as well.

  "It's called conviction, James. You felt guilty because the sermon dealt with sin, unconfessed sin in particular. Therefore, you thought all eyes focused on you, and you felt uncomfortable."

  He wanted to protest, but before he could say anything, she continued.

  "That's actually a good thing. If you felt nothing, it would mean you were beyond caring. Is that why you kept squirming in the pew?"

  He never realized he'd wriggled during the service.

  "You'd squirm too if some hawk-eyed gent kept planting his beady eyes on you!"

  He turned his head and allowed his gaze to rake up and down her body for effect. His efforts were lost on her, and he had to jerk his eyes back to the road, slamming his brakes when a car cut in front of them. The force sent Landi forwards, rocketing towards the dash board. James threw his arm in front of her before her seat belt locked, keeping her in place. She didn't miss a beat and continued as if the near accident never happened.

  "Reverend Smith? He's a dear, sweet man. See, you are under conviction! You'd better repent, James, of whatever you've been up to that's wrong—the sooner, the better. I'm hungry. How about lunch?"

  Jim shook his head. He hadn't intended to spend another unnecessary moment with this girl. He gave her a sideways glance. Her green eyes fixed on the road ahead, she looked striking. His eyes darted from traffic to her profile. He'd never seen a girl more stunning or more unaware of her own beauty. His gaze roamed to her form. A lavender dress, constructed of a thick, pique cotton hugged her figure yet somehow managed to remain demure. The jewel neckline and peplum almost seemed from another era.

  "Why don't we try the Beach Grill out in Malibu?" he heard himself say.

  The restaurant's open air dining area provided a stunning ocean view. A maître d' led them to a small, round table in a corner. The din from the large crowd meant they had to raise their voices to be heard or whisper directly into each other's ear. James chose the latter.

  "Can you suggest something?" Landi said, struggling to be heard above the noise. "I don't have much experience with seafood," she added.

  He nodded. When the waiter returned, Jim ordered a seafood sampler that included lobster, crab, scallops, shrimp, and other delicacies, along with iced teas. The server pouted when he discovered they would not be drinking alcohol.

  "Why does he care if we don't have a cocktail?" Landi asked after the man had gone.

  "Booze has a large profit margin. The restaurant makes more money, the bill is higher, and so is the tip. I worked as a waiter one summer in high school."

  "Oh," she said, nodding.

  He watched the girl's eyes scan the restaurant as if looking for someone. Jim scooted closer to her, his leg making contact with hers. He draped his arm over her shoulder. Several male patrons had been staring at her, and he wanted to send a message to them, loud and clear.

  "So, why do you think I need to repent?" he whispered directly in her ear.

  Landi felt his breath tickle her neck as electricity coursed through her body. Every nerve ending stood at attention when he came this close.

  "That's between you and God, James. Only He knows your heart, and honestly, I'd rather not think about your . . . your activities," she said, avoiding eye contact.

  "You mean proclivities," he said, wagging his brows up and down. When she ignored his facial acrobatics, he added, "All right. I'll reflect on it."

  He noted the girl growing agitated. She played with her napkin and rearranged the flatware. Maybe she hadn't shared information with her pastor about his love nest after all. This whole situation had gotten him off track. He determined to wrap his assignment up as fast as possible and move on with his life. Ireland would just have to get along without him. She'd done okay so far, at least since she came to Los Angeles. He withdrew his arm and put a little distance between them.

  Landi noticed frown lines taking hold at the corners of his mouth and a granite glint emanating from his clear blue eyes. Those eyes possessed the clarity of a determined man. She watched as his jaw set like cement and wondered what he was thinking. He sat ramrod straight with a military bearing that gave him a strong, masculine presence. She understood how he could easily dominate all those around him. His sister had mentioned something about his iron will. Whatever decisions he made now, she knew he'd stick
to them.

  She tried to ignore whatever mental machinations he went through and enjoyed the mammoth plate of seafood delivered to their table. He took pleasure in watching her experience something for the first time. James showed her how to crack the shell fish open and dunk their succulent meat in clarified butter or the other tasty sauces provided by the restaurant. By the time they'd polished off their meal, a few tiny bits of crab clung to his blazer. While paper bibs protected most of their clothing, the hammer and metal grips provided by the place did manage to fling a few chunks of meat onto the diners. Ireland laughed as she tidied him up with her napkin.

  He tried to brush her hand aside, but she wouldn't allow it.

  "You did all the work, cracking the crab and lobster open. The least I can do is clean you up," she said, laughing.

  When he dropped her off that afternoon, she'd thanked him profusely—for lunch and for attending church with her. She confessed that she'd stayed so busy with school and work that she hadn't made many friends in LA. She appreciated the time they spent together.

  James didn't have the heart to tell her he'd be leaving town.

  Chapter 12

  -Alone-

  Ireland arrived, anxious to spend the afternoon with James. A note next to her computer stated that he'd been called out of town for work. She felt the blow as she slumped onto the sofa and buried her hands in her face.

  How could I allow myself to become so attached to him?

  The phone ringing jolted her from her misery. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting in the dark apartment. She grabbed the receiver, hoping it was James.

  "Hello, Jim?"

  "Uh, no, Landi. It's Kiki. Were you expecting to hear from Katrina's brother?"

  The girl inhaled a deep breath, holding the air in her lungs until she felt ready to answer.

  Exhaling, she said, "No, not really. He's out of town on business. What can I do for you, Kiki? It's great to hear from you."

  "I was wondering if you were free for lunch today?"

  "Boy, am I ever! Where do you want to meet?"

  They ate at an Italian trattoria in West LA, not far from the mall on Pico. Kiki noticed right away that Ireland seemed a bit listless.