by Lisa Ruff
As she slipped in her choice, her father walked into the bar, a newspaper tucked under one arm. “Quite a crowd in here, I see.”
“It’s been like this for over an hour. I was thinking about stretching out on the bar and having a nap.”
Her father chuckled. “Go over to the house and do that, if you like. I’m planning to sit and read the paper. Your mother just got back from picking Jack up at school.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“We exchanged a few grunts,” George said.
Mimi sighed. “He’s not speaking to me at all, so I suppose you could count yourself lucky.”
“His mood isn’t getting any sunnier.”
“Not unless Johnny’s hanging around.”
“Speaking of which, where is our token celebrity? I haven’t seen him today.”
“I don’t think you will. He’s got a concert tonight.”
“Well, we get a break at last.”
“You don’t like him, do you? Every time you look at him you scowl.” Mimi looked over at her father. “Mom’s edgy around him, too.”
“More to the point, I don’t trust him.” George patted her arm. “I can’t figure out what exactly Mr. Sinclair wants. Is he just here to make up with his son after all these years?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been wondering the same thing, to tell you the truth.”
George unrolled his newspaper and spread it over the bar. “All I can say is, I liked it better when Jack was hanging out with Ian. I wish they would just kiss and make up.”
“I suggested that he go talk to Ian, but that didn’t go over very well. Jack’s determined to sulk.”
“Too bad. I keep hoping that Ian will change his mind and stay.”
Chewing on her lip, Mimi silently agreed with her father. She had not seen Ian since Sunday, despite the longing in her heart. He was right: they had no future together. Pretending otherwise just meant more heartache. True to his word, Ian had stayed away so that Jack and Johnny could bond. But the separation hadn’t improved Jack’s mood. He nursed his wounds so that no one forgot how hurt he was, showing just how much Ian meant to him.
“Actually, maybe I’ll run over and talk to Ian. About Jack.”
“If you think it will help,” George said with a frown.
“He means a lot to Jack. Why can’t they be friends, whether Ian’s here in Crab Creek or halfway around the world? I think I just need to remind both of them.”
“Sounds like a reasonable excuse to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
George gave her a wink, then turned to the sports page. “It means that I wish you luck.”
When she got to A&E Marine, Mimi first looked in the wood shop. The man there told her Ian was probably on his boat. She went down the dock to the sleek, white sailboat they had sailed on last Sunday. The companionway hatch was wide open and she thought she heard someone moving around inside. She knocked on the deck.
“Go away,” a voice commanded.
“Ian?” Mimi peered around the dodger. From the dock, she could see nothing in the dark cabin. “Ian, is that you?”
Ian’s head poked out of the hatch. “Oh. Hi. Sorry, I thought it was Patrick.”
“Can I come aboard?”
“Sure.”
Mimi climbed from the dock onto the side deck and from there into the cockpit. “I think we should talk about—Wow, what’s going on here?” She was halfway down the ladder into the cabin when she saw the piles of gear scattered everywhere.
“I’m stocking the boat.” His eyes met hers, his dark and fathomless. “I’m leaving next week.”
“Oh?” His words hit her with the force of a blow. Mimi felt stunned. “But I thought you weren’t going until October,” she whispered.
“There seems to be no reason to stick around.” He fidgeted with a piece of twine, wrapping it around his fingers. “It’s time.”
Tears filled her eyes. She blinked furiously to stop them from spilling over, looking anywhere but at Ian. Settling her eyes on the top button of his shirt, she said, “So that’s it, then. I don’t know what to say. I guess goodbye.” Her voice broke on the last word and she turned away before he could see her cry.
“Mimi, I’m sorry—”
She halted, one foot still on the lowest step. “No! Don’t say you’re sorry. This is your dream, Ian.” Turning, not caring that he saw tears streaming down her face, she tried to smile. “Follow it and be happy. Please. For me.”
“Ah, Mimi.” Ian’s hands came up to cup her face, his thumbs wiping at her tears. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m happy for you, I really am. I’ll just—” Her voice broke again and she swallowed hard. Her fingers gripped his strong wrists. “We’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” he whispered.
Their eyes met—blue to brown—and neither could speak. So much left unspoken over the past weeks could not be said now. Stretching up on tiptoe, Mimi pressed a kiss to Ian’s lips. Soft and warm, they molded to hers. His hands dropped to her waist, hers slid around his neck. Angling his head, he took the kiss deeper, seeking and gaining access to the tender inside of her mouth. Mimi sighed as she tasted him once more. Her fingers delved into his soft curls to urge him close and closer still.
Ian obliged her, his arms cinching around her. One held her close while the other hand followed a trail up her spine to cradle her head. The kiss flared from warm to hot in seconds. She wanted more: more taste, more touch, more fire. One last chance. Mimi arched her back and pressed her breasts to his chest, easing the ache there. One leg rose and curled around Ian’s. She felt his body rise to hers as his hand dropped to her bottom, then slid along her thigh, lifting her leg higher. When he ground himself against her, Mimi whimpered in pleasure.
“We can’t do this,” he said against her lips. Yet, even as he spoke, he cupped her breast in the palm of his hand.
Mimi gasped as his thumb brushed the nipple, bringing it to singing life. “Yes, we can. Please, Ian. We won’t have another chance.” Her fingernails bit into the fabric of his shirt.
“I can’t stay.” His voice was low and harsh, as he bent his head to bite gently at the turgid peak through the barrier of her clothes.
“I know.” The truth was painful, but brought a measure of sanity. Taking a deep breath, she drew his head up so that their eyes could meet, holding his gaze with hers. Mimi saw the war being waged within him. “I won’t keep you from going, Ian, but I want this. I want you.” She kissed him softly, biting at his lower lip. “Make love to me,” she whispered. “Please.”
He closed his eyes for a long moment, holding perfectly still. When they opened, the dark depths were filled with a blaze of passion. One hand came up to tangle in her hair as he lowered his mouth to hers once more. The kiss went on and on, taking them deeper and deeper into the reckless fire. The reins of caution had been thrown off. When his lips released hers, blazing a trail of heat down her throat, Mimi groaned.
In seconds, Ian had stripped the T-shirt she wore over her head and flipped open the clasp of her bra. Taking her breasts in his hands, he shaped them eagerly, pinching her nipples and sending a thrill of need straight to her core. Eager to press his skin to hers, Mimi fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. She made little progress, distracted by the kisses he was placing in a line from one nipple to the other. Finally, he reached an arm back and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head, ignoring the buttons altogether.
Needing no further encouragement, Mimi smoothed her hands across the warm, muscled skin he had exposed. Soft curling hair tickled the palms of her hands as she spread her fingers wide. She flicked her tongue across one nipple and he groaned. Running her hands over his chest, she slid them around his waist, stepping closer so that they touched, skin to skin. They both gasped.
Ian pulled her closer, kissing her deeply. She felt his hands at the waist of her skirt, unfastening the button and zipper. The fabric slid to her ankles soundlessl
y. Easing away from her, his gaze traveled over her in a slow, sizzling scrutiny. His hands framed her hips, thumbs teasing the skin just above her panties. Mimi basked in his hot stare as the dark shadow behind the white lace drew his gaze. She swayed toward him, just brushing herself against the erection she could see straining his pants. Seeing his jaw flex, she ran both hands up his chest. She offered her mouth and he took it hungrily.
As they kissed, he lifted her in his arms and carried her a few steps farther into the saloon. Mimi held on to his neck tightly as he cleared the settee of rope, bags of rice and flour in one shove. Dimly she heard the thumps and thuds of gear as it hit the floor. He laid her on the cushions and stood above her.
“You’re too beautiful,” he said in a rasp as he ran his gaze over her.
“Come show me.” Mimi raised her arms and beckoned him. His eyes were black now, blazing with desire. Ian’s hands went to his belt buckle and she sat up. “Wait.”
Her hands pushed his aside as she took charge of the fastenings. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she slowly released his belt, then pulled the snap open with a pop. Grasping the tab of his zipper, she released it tooth by slow tooth. His erection surged as her knuckles brushed against it. She saw him swallow, his face tense with the effort of standing completely still before her. When the zipper was open, the pants dropped to the floor with a clatter of belt buckle and change.
Still looking up at him, she smoothed her hands around his waist, just above the line of his gray boxer briefs. They fit him like a glove, outlining every inch of his muscular thighs and the arousal he could not hide. Mimi put her thumbs under the elastic band and drew them down and off his hips. His penis sprang free, large and urgent, begging for release. She kissed his hip, then moved a bit closer and kissed again.
Ian gasped and took her shoulders in his hands, pushing her back. “If you keep that up, this is going to be over sooner than we want.”
Mimi smiled and let herself be pressed down. She arched up into him as he came to cover her body with his own. His weight against her was exquisite. Cupping one of her breasts, Ian began to kiss her again. His hand slid down her stomach, stroking and teasing a path to the white lace she still wore. When his fingers delved beneath, she gasped and whimpered. The callused touch of his fingers on her most intimate skin was more intense than anything she had ever experienced.
“Please,” she sobbed as he brought her to the edge of release.
He deftly stripped off her panties and positioned himself at the entrance to her body. There, he stiffened. “Damn, I need—”
“No.” Her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as he lifted himself away. “I’m on the pill.”
He kissed her hard and took her in one silken thrust. When he began moving, she raised her hips to his. She wanted it all, now, but Ian wouldn’t be rushed to completion. He steadily built the pace so that they were caught in a maelstrom of sensation. Every thrust added to the pleasure and sent her closer to the edge. Her heart was pounding, her breathing a staccato pant. Ian was filling her with his desire, body, heart and soul. When there was room for no more, her world exploded in a blast of pleasure unlike any she had ever felt. Stars danced before her eyes and she cried out, a long keening wail. Ian’s call joined with hers and he came to a rest on top of her.
Mimi clutched him to her, feeling the frantic beat of his heart against hers. He rose onto his elbows and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. Brushing the hair away from his face, she felt in her body how much she loved this man. More than she had ever thought possible. And now she had to let him go. She couldn’t hold him back. Her heart began to ache again for what was to come, but she had no regrets. She would have this memory. It would have to be enough.
AS IAN KISSED MIMI and wrapped her warm body to his, his heart slowed to a steady, contented beat. His mind still whirled in the aftermath of pleasure. Sighing, he lifted his head and looked into his lover’s eyes. They were a deep navy, full of mysterious depths he wanted to plumb. Flushed with love, she was more beautiful than he had ever imagined her. She brushed her fingers through his hair and he kissed her again, savoring the sweetness of her lips. He wanted to make love to her all over again.
She moved under him and he shifted to the side, taking his weight off her. She ran a fingertip down his nose and over his lips in a delicate caress. “That was wonderful,” she said quietly.
He nipped at her finger. “And more than that.”
Unable to resist, he leaned down and kissed her again. Thankfully, on the narrow settee, he had to lie pressed up against her. He smoothed a hand across her skin, reveling in the softness. It was like silk, as though his rough hands might snag it and damage its perfection.
“I will miss you, Ian,” she whispered, almost too low to be heard.
Ian tensed, as if her words had suddenly stretched him taut. All the reasons he was leaving came rushing back to collide with the exquisite pleasure he had just experienced. He pressed a kiss to her lips, then buried his face in the fragrant hair at her shoulder. “I’ll miss you, too.”
They held each other in silence for a while, until Mimi stirred. Ian released her and she sat up, scooting away and off the settee. She slipped on her panties, followed quickly by her bra and T-shirt. Aching for her touch, but knowing that she had given more than he could have dreamed, Ian followed her lead. He stepped into his pants, zipped them, but didn’t bother with the belt or snap.
Mimi put on her skirt. He watched her run her fingers through her hair, trying to restore order. Ian yearned to do the task for her. He stuck his hands into his pockets to control the urge. Her back was to him for a moment and her shoulders rose on a sigh. When she turned around, she was smiling, but he could see her sorrow. His heart twisted in his chest.
“I came here intending to talk to you about Jack,” Mimi said, pushing a lock of hair behind one ear.
“Has he talked to you?”
“About what happened Sunday?” She shook her head. “No. He won’t.”
“That doesn’t give us much to discuss.”
“I thought…” Mimi paused and toyed with a parallel ruler on the desk beside her. “I wanted to see if I could get you two together somehow.”
“If I leave next week, I don’t think that’s possible.”
She opened her mouth, as if to protest, then closed it again in a frown. “No, I suppose not. He’ll like it even less when I tell him you’re leaving so soon.”
“Has Johnny been around?” he asked, hating to say the name, but realizing he had to know the answer.
She nodded carefully. “They spend time together. Jack likes him.”
Ian felt the knife thrust, and a cry of pain rose in his throat. Exactly what he had hoped would happen was happening: a father reunited with a son. “That’s good,” he heard himself say.
“Is it?” Mimi looked at him, a question in her eyes.
“Yes, it is.” As much as it hurt, Ian was certain of that fact. “For Jack, it is the best.”
“He’s going to miss you, too.”
“Yeah. He’ll get over it.”
“Ian, he needs you,” Mimi said impatiently. “Jack needs a father more than he needs a friend. You said as much the other night, Mimi.”
Biting her lip, Mimi looked at the floor for a moment, then up into his eyes. She took a step, stood before him and put a hand on his cheek. In his pockets, Ian’s hands clenched into fists. He wanted to grab her, hold her and never let her go. He restrained the urge. Had this afternoon been a mistake? No. He would never feel that, but he wouldn’t compound it either by saying the wrong thing. Mimi’s blue eyes were full of something he couldn’t grasp. Part sorrow, but there was something else, too.
“Be safe,” she said. She kissed him one last time. Seconds later she was gone.
Ian slumped down onto the settee, putting his head in his hands. From the heights of bliss to the depths of despair, all in one hour. Tears stung his eyes and he rubbed them hard. A roll of charts sl
id off the pile at his feet and onto the floor. He kicked it across the cabin. Then he picked up a bag of rice and chucked that across the cabin, too. It exploded against the bulkhead, grains flying outward and falling to cover everything.
Putting both hands on top of his head, Ian drew in a deep breath, tamping down the incoherent anger. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them he dropped his arms and looked around. The boat was a mess. He would have to clean it up and stow everything away properly. The sooner he did, the sooner he could leave. What else could he do? It was time to go.
Chapter Fifteen
Ian slipped into his bunk about four in the morning after picking up the last grain of rice and stowing the last piece of gear. He was tired enough to fall directly into oblivion. As soon as he closed his eyes, though, Mimi came to him and hovered, just out of reach. After lying wide awake for an hour—reliving every taste, every touch of her body—Ian knew that sleep would be hard for many nights to come.
Finally, he dropped off and into a dream about her. She had her guitar and was singing some song that he couldn’t quite hear. The melody was haunting, infinitely sad. The dream turned into a nightmare when Johnny showed up and she began to kiss the other man. Helpless to stop it or even scream a protest, Ian awoke with a jerk. He was covered in sweat, the sun high in the morning sky.
Rolling out of bed, he grabbed the clothes he had worn the day before. His head was splitting, pounding as if he had just finished a two-day bender. He popped three aspirin and headed to the shower. Cold water would wash out the cobwebs and get his blood circulating for the day.
The day he was leaving.
Minerva was ready to go. He had provisions as well as spare parts for everything from the engine to the head pump. He would make one last trip to the grocery store for a few fresh vegetables, a block of ice and meats for the cooler. When that was done, he would fill the water tanks. It was eleven now. He would slip the lines by two at the latest and head north up the bay, then through the canal to the Delaware. In two days or less, he could be in the Atlantic, out of sight of land.