Off the Hook

by Laura Drewry

  “When I was a kid, yeah.”

  Bundled up like the Michelin Man, with her toque pulled down and her scarf pulled up, her eyes and nose were the only parts of her exposed, and he’d bet she was still cold. She probably had another pair of socks stuffed down in one of her pockets.

  If he remembered right, she’d been the only person on the Vegas Strip wearing Polarfleece.

  “How cool is this?” she whispered. “All those stars blinking down at us, the water swishing against the sides of the boat, and no one else on earth gets to enjoy it.”

  “I’m pretty sure there’s a bear somewhere over there.” He pointed to the woods behind the cabins, but Kate didn’t even look. Instead, she just laughed quietly. “We could invite him to join us,” he suggested.

  “Whisper,” she said. “Or you’ll break it.”

  “Break what?”

  Her eyes widened as she lifted her hands, palms up. “This. All of it.”

  Any minuscule doubt he might have had that she understood this life ended right there. How many times had he come out here as a kid and lain in that same spot, as quiet as he could, because he didn’t want to break the silence? It was more than the silence, though. It was the calm and perspective that came with it. It had taken him most of his life to figure out that was what kept pulling him back here, and Kate had figured it out five minutes after climbing inside the boat.

  And even if she hadn’t said anything, it was right there on her face. Okay, so he couldn’t actually see most of her face, but the way her eyes opened so wide, the way she hardly blinked, it was all right there.

  “Liam?” she whispered. “Would you do me a favor?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Though he couldn’t tell for sure, he was pretty sure she swallowed a couple of times before finally pulling the scarf down far enough to uncover her mouth.

  “Would you please stop looking at me like that?”

  Say yes and turn your head away, you stupid shit. His brain could yell at him all it liked, Liam didn’t care; he kept right on staring at her.

  “But I like looking at you.” He didn’t mean to whisper that time; it was just the way it came out.

  “Yeah?” she choked. “What’s doing it for you? I look like a walking sleeping bag.”

  “Shit, Kate, you could wrap yourself in concrete and it wouldn’t make any difference.” His fingers itched to reach out, to touch any part of her, but he forced them not to move. “I can still see that little freckle up there on your right hip, that tan line I used to run my finger across and—”

  “Please stop.”

  She pushed the scarf up again, higher, so it covered her nose, too, but it didn’t matter, because even as covered as she was, he’d already memorized the curve of her jaw and the way her nose turned up ever so slightly at the end. He knew, even without gazing directly in her eyes, that those bursts of amber would be flickering in them, and going by the way the skin around her eyes crinkled and how hard she was pressing the scarf against her mouth, he’d guess she was trying not to smile.

  And that made him smile more.

  “I still see things, too,” she finally admitted, her voice quiet, soft. “But the last time you kept looking at me like that, we ended up married, remember?”

  “Yeah, I have a vague memory about something like that,” he said, laughing when she snorted behind her wool.

  “Then you’ll agree neither one of us wants to make that mistake again.”

  “ ’Course not. But what if we just did the other stuff without getting married this time?”

  “Awww.” Kate’s quiet laugh bubbled out of her as she pressed her hands flat against her chest and twisted enough so she could meet his eyes. “That’s so sweet. And just what every girl wants to hear.”

  Watching her roll her eyes like that as she turned away again only made him want to kiss her. A lot.

  “Okay, suit yourself.” Liam grinned, waving his hands down the front of him, all crooked and scrunched up in the boat. “But just so’s you know, a lot of women out there would kill to get their hands on some of this.”

  “Is that right?” Kate scoffed.

  “Yup. I used to be a hotshot pitcher, in case you forgot.”

  “Oh, I didn’t forget, sweetie. And I wish all those other women the best of luck with”—she flicked her fingers in his direction, not looking at him—“all that.”

  Getting rejected had never been fun before, so why was he still smiling?

  Eventually he turned his attention back to the billions of stars overhead. His whole life he’d been fascinated by them, but having Kate lie next to him, pointing out patterns and trying to figure out what was what, made it astronomically better. He didn’t even care that his neck was kinking up or that he had to keep wiggling his toes to keep his legs from falling asleep.

  He let her lead the conversations, because if left up to him, he’d head straight back to how much he liked looking at her, and the last thing he wanted to do right then was make her uncomfortable. So when she fell silent, so did he.

  And he didn’t even make fun of her when she pulled a pair of socks out of her coat pocket and put them on like mittens.

  When she started to fidget, he worried she was going to take her cold self inside, but instead she shifted her position a little and sighed.

  “You know—” She stopped, shifted again, then lowered her voice. “I don’t know how to say this without it sounding stupid.”

  Liam chuckled quietly. “You’re a lot of things, Kate, but stupid ain’t one of them. Just say it.”

  “Okay.” She pulled the scarf off her mouth and chewed her lip for a second. “Well, the thing is, that week in Vegas, the time we spent together…”

  “Yeah?” Oh crap, where was this going?

  “Not including the way it ended, of course, but the rest of it…” Blowing out a low breath, she tipped her head to the side and shrugged. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had.”

  He didn’t care how stupid he looked grinning up into the darkness, not even after she whapped him with the back of her hand.

  “I’m serious,” she cried, making him laugh. “It was.”

  “I know; me, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Really.”

  It was true, too. Sure, neither one of them could afford much more than the $5.99 buffets and the cheapest beer they could find, and instead of blowing what little money they did have on the slots or a Wayne Newton show, they’d spent their time either by the pool, people-watching on the Strip, or driving each other crazy tangled up in those sheets.

  He didn’t know if those were the things she was talking about, but the smile she tried to hide behind her scarf again gave him a pretty good idea.

  “You know what?” She pushed herself up slowly to a sitting position and looked around. “I’ve never rowed a boat before.”

  Okay, so they were changing the subject. Probably a good idea.

  With his still-full beer clutched in his hand, Liam squirmed up onto his elbow and stared at her.

  “You’re shittin’ me, right?”

  “No. I mean, I’ve used rowing machines at the gym, but I’ve never actually sat in a boat and rowed before.”

  “Well, that’s just wrong.” It was dark, and probably stupid, but Liam seemed to be on a roll with stupid ideas, so why stop now? “Get on up in the middle there.”

  “What? No, I didn’t mean I wanted to do it right now.”

  “I’m not going to make you row to Port Hardy, Kate; we’ll stay here in the cove.”

  The second she was seated, he struggled to unscrunch himself from the floor, handed her one of the life jackets, then set his can and the rest of the half-sack on the dock.

  “Watch yourself there a second,” he said, tugging the oars out from under the benches. “Okay, so they slide into the holders like so…and so…Hold that; good. Okay, keep the blade perpendicular to the water; good.”

  He didn’t
give her any time to think about it, just untied the boat and pushed them away from the dock.

  “So row.”

  “But I…” She slapped the oars, which weren’t even close to being perpendicular, flat against the water. “Shit.”

  He started to point at the oars, but she’d already pulled the socks off her hands, twisted the oars the right way around, and was cranking the left one to get them turned. Then, having cranked that side a few too many times, she fought the right one to straighten them out.

  “Good God,” she muttered. “It isn’t nearly as hard at the gym.”

  Grinning, Liam spread his arms wide and lounged back against the stern. “Good gondoliers sing to their passengers.”

  “Yeah, well, this gondolier’s a little busy,” she grunted, digging the left oar in again. “If you want music, you’re going to have to channel some Kelly Clarkson for me, like you used to.”

  “Yeah,” he laughed. “You’d be surprised how many people don’t appreciate my musical talents.”

  That made her smirk. “What—you mean the guys in the locker room didn’t sing along?”

  “Not so much, no.”

  “That’s too bad, ’cause I’ll say this for you, Sporto, you do a hell of a ‘Since U Been Gone.’ ”

  With a couple more grunting cranks, she straightened them out and then stopped rowing altogether when he started humming.

  “I take requests,” he said. “Or, better yet, we could duet.”

  “Yeah, that is so not happening.” Shaking her head, Kate laughed quietly and started rowing again, taking them in two complete laps of the cove while Liam hummed and sang Clarkson’s greatest hits.

  After a while, she stopped rowing and let the boat drift back to the dock.

  “Can I ask you something kinda personal?”

  Liam didn’t even hesitate. “Go for it.”

  “I’m just wondering…I mean, you’re a major-league pitcher and we all know what athletes get paid, so why don’t you pay the tax bill on this place and call it done?”

  The bubble of laughter burst out of Liam before he could catch it. Ro had asked the same question, and Liam had given him the same answer he now gave Kate.

  “There’s a huge gap between what a guy like Verlander makes and what I made. I mean, yeah, I made the MLB minimum, which was pretty nice, but you’d be surprised how fast that goes when you’re living the good life and making bad investments. And being called an unrestricted free agent is just a pretty way of saying I’m unemployed.”

  Snorting, Liam linked his hands behind his neck.

  “I had some money for us to work with, but it was either use that to fix this place up so we could get the operator’s permit or pay the taxes and let the place sit. We couldn’t do both.”

  “Oh.” Kate’s voice was quiet, soft against the night air. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” he said. “If we lose this place because of me—”

  “Because of you? God, Liam, you’re working your ass off here.”

  “Sure, but if I’d invested some of that money into this place instead of worthless stocks, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now, would we?”

  “No, I guess we wouldn’t.”

  It was wrong, Liam knew it, but for the first time ever, he was almost happy he’d screwed up on those investments, because it was true: If he’d done it right, they wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

  “Come on, Mr. Clarkson,” Kate chuckled. “Time to pack it in; we’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

  Reluctantly, he hopped out and tied up before holding the boat steady for her. When they got to the lodge, he kept going with her, through the lobby and out the back door.

  “I have my flashlight,” she murmured, tugging her scarf completely off. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I know.”

  They were almost to her cabin when she shocked the hell out of him by slipping her hand under his arm and nudging his shoulder with hers.

  “You’re still a hotshot pitcher, you know. Don’t talk about that in the past tense.”

  Liam blinked hard, then leaned in and pressed a slow kiss against her cheek. Half an inch, that’s how close he was to those soft, warm lips he remembered all too well, but no matter how much he ached to taste them again, he forced himself to pull back and smile down at her.

  Besides his agent—who didn’t count, because Liam paid him to say it—Kate was the first and only one to even suggest he might have something left, and if she’d said it any other time or any other way, he might not have believed she was sincere.

  But looking at her now, with her foot up on the porch, ready to go inside, there wasn’t the slightest trace of doubt in her eyes, just those damn bits of amber flickering like little beacons.

  “I, uh…” Blowing out a hard breath, Liam shoved both hands through his hair, locked his fingers together, and took a step back. “I better go. It’d really screw things up here if we woke up married tomorrow.”

  “Right. Good thinking,” she said, her mouth curling into a slow, knowing smile. “ ’Cause I promise you this, I won’t be nearly as nice the next time you divorce me.”

  He felt his smile start at his toes and work its way up. Oh shit, he was in trouble.

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Laughing, he had to force his feet to keep moving backward. “Tell me the truth. Is it because of Vegas or is it because you think Foster’d fire your ass if we got together?”

  “Uh…both?” Her shrug was almost apologetic. “It was hard enough getting work after I told my boss at the lumberyard to shove his job up his ass, but I can’t afford to piss off someone like Paul Foster.”

  “Does he know about us?”

  “God no!” When Liam raised his brow at her emphatic answer, she sighed. “I never told anyone about us and had no idea this was your place when Paul gave me this assignment; all I knew was that this was my golden ticket to prove I could not only get my hands dirty when I needed to but that I’d be the best person to manage this place when he took over.”

  “If he took over,” Liam corrected.

  “If,” she agreed. “And to be honest, when I first got here and realized it was you, part of me wanted to keep the job just so I could make you suffer a little.”

  “And now?”

  “Now,” she repeated over a choked laugh. “Now I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do. I’d hate to see you guys lose this place, I really would, but if it comes to that and Paul buys it, at least if he puts me in charge, I can try to keep it O’Donnell-ish.”

  “O’Donnell-ish.” Liam didn’t like the sounds of that “ish,” and his brothers sure as hell wouldn’t like it, either.

  “If he finds out now that you’re my ex-husband,” Kate went on, “I’m not sure what he’ll do. But if he thinks for one second I’ve hooked up with you while I’m here, I have no doubt he’ll cut me loose, because he’ll consider it not only a conflict of interest but a serious lack of judgment on my part.”

  “But what if you told him I was a big hotshot pitcher?” Liam asked, waving his hands down the front of him. “Would that make him cut you any slack?”

  “Uh, no,” she laughed—a dry, harsh sound that seemed to rip from her throat. “We’re talking about a man whose only interest in the Detroit Tigers is thinking about how he’d redevelop the chunk of land Comerica Park’s sitting on.”

  “Sounds like an idiot to me.” Liam took another step back. “Here’s an idea—quit that job and come work with us. Sure, the pay is basically nonexistent, but we offer long hours, hard work, and as much fish as you can possibly eat, so, really, what more could you ask for?”

  “Hmm,” she said, laughing quietly as she pushed open her door. “Tempting.”

  Liam stopped moving altogether until she was inside and the door closed behind her. It was only then that he muttered a quiet “good night” and headed for the lodge. There he found Jessie sitting at the kitch
en table, twisting her teacup back and forth between her hands, Finn’s wet clothes now laundered and folded neatly in front of her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in a tired, knowing voice.

  Feigning ignorance, Liam kept moving as he pointed toward the door he was heading for. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Don’t play stupid, Liam. We both know she’s a bad idea.”

  Liam stopped just inside the doorway and turned. “You don’t know anything about it, so just relax.”

  “Relax?” Shoving out of her chair, Jessie dropped her cup in the sink, then leaned against the counter, arms folded tight over her chest. “In case you’ve forgotten, we don’t have time to relax, and she should be a constant reminder of that. Don’t get me wrong, she’s great, she works hard, and I really like her, but the fact is she’s working for Foster, not us, so come the first of July, when we’re staring down that tax bill, where d’you suppose she’s going to be standing—beside you or Foster?”

  “Come on, Jessie.”

  “I’m serious, Liam. Besides, Kate’s a smart woman; she got burned the first go-round with you, so you can bet your ass she’s not going to risk everything she’s worked so hard for just because she likes your smile. And you’d be a total prick to even ask her to.”

  “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself here, Jessie. Nothing’s happened between Kate and me.”

  “Good. I hope it stays that way.”

  “Gimme a break.”

  “Not on this I won’t,” Jessie said, shaking her head. “You’re an O’Donnell and you’re crazy. Sure, you guys seem normal and you always start out great with women; everything’s sunshine and roses, but it’s only a matter of time. It won’t matter what she says or does: In the back corner of that stupid brain of yours, you honestly believe every woman is exactly like your mom and Mandy—that they’re all out to screw you over. So one day, before she has a chance to do it to you, you’ll be gone again, only this time she’ll not only be losing you, she’ll probably lose her job, and good luck trying to get another one with something like this stapled to her résumé.”

  Tucking her chin down, Jessie lowered her voice and did a really bad impersonation of someone doing an interview. “So, Miss Hadley, I see here you were recently fired from the Foster Group. What happened there?”