by Lori Wilde
“Whoa,” he laughed. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
Jackie glowered. “Of course not. I’m running late. Come in.”
He tracked over the threshold, glanced around at the controlled chaos.
Suddenly, Jackie saw the apartment through his eyes. The rented furniture looked worn, the room cluttered with books and notes and computer printouts and oceanography accoutrements. The bag from the boutique, with her dress in it, lay spread over the couch. The clothes she’d stripped out of were heaped on the floor, including her thong undies.
Jackie moved to the couch, cleared a space for him. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
A wry smile tipped his lips. She noticed he was staring at the thong underwear. She bent to grab it from the floor then realized she was only wearing a towel. Terrific. There was no graceful way of bending over in a towel, so she left the discarded clothes where they lay.
“I’ll be right back.” She rushed down the hall, a heated flush spreading over her skin. She slipped into the bathroom, realized she’d left the dress in the living room. Dammit. She closed her eyes and sank against the door. She was going to have to go back in there and prove what a ditz she was.
There was a light knock on the bathroom door and her heart did that crazy tap dance again.
“Jackie?”
“Yeah?”
“Um…do you need this?”
She opened the door a crack, spied him standing there, holding the dress. She reached out, snatched it from his hand and slammed the door again. The sound of his chuckle penetrated through the cheap wooden door.
“Don’t laugh at me,” she hollered.
“This is really difficult for you, isn’t it?”
“I’m a scientist,” she grumbled, dropping the towel and pulling the sundress over her head. “Not a party maven.”
“Relax, mermaid. You’re going to be just fine. No expectations. Let’s just have a good time.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.
Okay. Now she had the dress on, but her bra was in the living room and she was sans panties and Everly was standing right outside the door. She was flat chested. She could get away without the bra, but she wasn’t going to go out without any underwear. She wasn’t some tarty Hollywood starlet.
Makeup. Get some makeup on and then you can grab a pair of panties before you leave the bedroom.
She glanced at the sparse makeup case on her counter. She had one tube of lipstick and another of mascara and they both were probably at least a year old.
Who cared? Right? She never pretended to be a beauty queen. She rolled on the lipstick. A soft peach color that enhanced her tan. Not bad. People wouldn’t throw up when she walked by. Then she brushed on the ebony mascara. It made her eyes look instantly bigger. Fine. Good. That was enough primping. She dropped the mascara into the makeup bag and zipped it closed.
Taking a deep breath, she wrenched opened the door.
Scott was standing right there with an ocean-size grin on his face, and his muscular arms crossed over his chest, looking all hot and manly.
Oh, wow.
She startled at his proximity and all the air leaked from her lungs in a slow, soft hiss. Hair. She’d forgotten to deal with her hair. She was the worst girlie-girl on the planet. She reached up and yanked the ponytail holder from her hair, ran a hand through her locks to fluff them. That had to do.
“Wow,” Scott said, his gaze traveling over her body. “You look awesome.”
Jackie blew a raspberry. “You don’t have to lie.”
A roguish expression lit his eyes. “I am not lying. You underestimate your beauty, Jackie Birchard.”
She waved a hand. “Who cares about looks? They don’t last. What lasts is a sharp mind.”
“You have absolutely nothing to worry about on that score, either.”
She cocked her head, evaluated him through narrowed eyes. “Where are your crutches?”
“I ditched them. They just slowed me down.”
“And you felt like a dork using them.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “All I’ve got is shark teeth track marks on my calf.”
“Those pretty legs are ruined. It’s a travesty.”
“I thought you didn’t care about looks.”
“My looks,” she teased. “Boy toys have an image to maintain.”
“Oh, so that’s how you see me. A boy toy.”
“Okay, a misnomer I’ll grant you.” She raked her gaze over him, grinned impishly. “I stand corrected. Man toy.”
“Ready?” He cocked his head in the direction of her front door. She was very aware that her bedroom stretched out behind her, just as messy as her living area.
“I don’t normally do parties,” she fretted, pulling her bedroom door closed behind her.
“I figured that.”
“All I have to say is that you better be really good in bed, Everly.” She stopped to pick up her purse. A sensible black bag that matched everything. Except her simple white dress and white sandals. She peered down at her feet. Mother of pearl, she should have gotten a pedicure.
“I am.” He grinned.
“You’re smug. Don’t think I’m kidding.” She picked up her house keys, dropped them into her inappropriate handbag. She couldn’t have sex with him. What was she talking about? She hadn’t waxed. What was she? A woman or a surfboard? “I expect peak performance even with your shark bite.”
“Flesh wound.”
“And no fainting.”
“You sure know how to hit a guy where it hurts, mermaid.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“Because you belong to the sea.”
She had no comeback for that. When he was right, he was right.
“Nicknames border on romance. This isn’t romance. That’s what we agreed. This is about sex.”
“Ah, come on, you can’t indulge my sexual fantasies a little while?” He jingled his change in his pockets while she locked the front door.
She straightened, met his seductive gaze. “And what might that fantasy be?”
“Mermaids,” he whispered huskily. “I’ve always wanted to get it on with a mermaid.”
An effervescent laugh rolled from her throat. Giggling? She was giggling? She’d never giggled in her life.
Well, you’re giggling now.
“I might be persuaded to indulge in some role-playing fantasies,” she told him as she headed down the steps ahead of him. “As long as you don’t mind being Neptune.”
“Three-prong trident? What’s not to love?”
This, Jackie decided, was going to be a lot of fun.
It was only when they were in the car and on their way to the aquarium that she realized she’d forgotten to put on underwear.
SCOTT DROVE TOWARD the aquarium, uncertainty pushing against him. What was he doing here with this woman? Clearly, she wanted nothing more than to use him to sate her sexual appetites and he was taking her to his sister’s engagement party. Why?
What’s so wrong with a casual affair? Isn’t it better that you know where you stand with her? No expectations. No hurt feelings. You’re not exactly looking for happily-ever-after, either. And hey, it’s been six months without sex. Take whatever she can give and let it be enough.
Right. Yes. It made sense. Why then did he feel so damned unsettled by the thought?
When he pulled into the aquarium’s parking lot, she reached out and touched his shoulder. “Wait.”
He felt her touch clean to his bones. What was that all about? Slowly, he turned to look at her. She was so beautiful it hurt his head. “What is it?”
“I need a moment to prep for this.”
“What are you so worried about? It’s not like you’re my girlfriend or anything.”
“I just need to bolster my courage.”
“This is really difficult for you.” That surprised him. She was so self-possessed. He couldn’t imagine anything upsetting her equilibrium and her
e she was nervous about something he took for granted. A party. Why would a party make her nervous?
“Because,” she said, accurately reading his mind. “A party is not a natural environment for a mermaid.”
“Ah, but the party is in an aquarium,” he pointed out. “You should feel right at home.”
“All right.” She exhaled, gave him a shaky smile. “I’m ready.”
Scott unbuckled his seat belt and got out. He tried to rush around to open the passenger-side door for her, but she was already popping out before he got there.
She pointed a finger at him. “No, no, none of that gentlemanly stuff, Everly. We’re just planning on being sex buddies. I’m here because your sister invited me and I couldn’t think of a way to get out of it. Besides I’m a sucker for aquariums.”
He settled a hand to the small of her back, leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Liar. You’re here because you want to be with me.”
“I want to have sex with you,” she corrected.
“Same thing.”
“Whatever.”
“You are a contrary woman.”
“Apparently you like that about me.”
“Apparently I do,” he said, mildly surprised to realize it was true. He enjoyed bantering with her. “C’mon.”
He guided her into the aquarium.
“And the fish,” she said. “I came for the fish.”
“Me, too. I like them as much as you do.”
“Doubtful.”
“You don’t own a patent on liking fish.”
“How do you know? I might. I am Jack Birchard’s daughter.”
“Oh, I knew this was going to happen eventually.” He winked. “Playing the celebrity card.”
“Like you don’t play the Coast Guard card when it’s handy,” she quipped.
“Scott! Jackie!” Megan spotted them and broke away from the pack of people she’d been talking to and came over to greet them. She took them around the room, introducing them. “Here you are, big brother, living life one wave at a time.”
It was a Coast Guard expression their father used to say when life was going well. The civilian equivalent was along the lines of “enjoy the moment.”
“And this wave is fine,” he replied smoothly.
“He’s incorrigible,” Megan said to Jackie. “You have to know that.” She switched her gaze back to Scott. “Surely, she knows that.”
“I know that.” Jackie nodded.
“And yet you like him anyway. There’s hope for you yet, big brother.”
“Shoo, go, preside over your event.” He tickled Megan in the ribs. She laughed and darted away.
Scott knew most of the people at the party. Jackie, in spite of her proclamation of not being a people person, handled the crowd with aplomb. She shook hands and listened while others made small talk and she wasn’t too obvious when she kept sliding wistful glances at fish tanks. He knew that’s where her head was. Swimming around in the water.
He smiled.
People kept asking him about the shark attack. He told them how the boy was doing, deflecting attention off his own wound. They called him a hero. He refused the title. He was Coast Guard. Saving lives was his job. Dave, his brother-in-law-to-be, teased him about fainting. He’d expected some razzing and he took it like a man. He’d rather be razzed than dubbed a hero.
His leg ached where the shark’s teeth had branded him, but he ignored it. He was Coast Guard. He could deal with a little pain. Especially when he had Jackie to look at, and that took his mind off the minor discomfort.
They ate appetizers on tiny plates—mini spinach quiches, bacon-wrapped shrimp, guacamole on blue corn tortilla chips. And then out came the champagne. Whitley Montgomery, Megan’s boss and the head of the aquarium, toasted Megan and Dave and gave a brief speech. The crowd applauded and cheered.
Then Whitley paused. “I’ve just learned we have a special guest here tonight, as well. I want you all to give a warm welcome to the renowned Jack Birchard’s daughter, Jackie.”
Jackie’s face flushed and she ducked her head.
“We’re so happy to have you in Key West.” He raised his glass and proposed a toast to Jackie.
A forced smile crossed her face and she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Scott could see she was uncomfortable with the attention.
“I’ve met your father,” Whitley said. “He’s an amazing man.”
“Yes.” Jackie’s face tightened. “He is.”
Scott knew a bit about what it was like living in the shadow of a legend. You always felt like you could never really measure up no matter how hard you tried. That you had somehow let the world down by not being as accomplished as your parent. But Jackie had to deal with that feeling on a whole different level.
His father had been killed in the line of duty and as a result, Scott felt like he had to keep his father’s memory alive by the way he behaved. Honor his father. But Jackie’s dad was world famous. Here in Key West, Scott lived in his father’s shadow, but in D.C., he was his own man. Jackie could never escape the reach of her father’s legend. Sympathy took hold of him and all he wanted to do was help her escape scrutiny for an evening.
Whitley had cornered Jackie and was heartily extolling her father’s virtues.
Scott moved toward her. “Whitley, can I steal Jackie away from you for a minute?”
“Oh, sure, sure. I didn’t mean to hog her. She’s just so fascinating to talk to.” Whitley gazed at Jackie with puppy-dog admiration. “I hope you’ll consider speaking at one of our lecture series.”
“I’ll give it some thought. It’s been nice speaking with you, Mr. Montgomery.”
“Better yet, ask your father. We’d love to have him do the lecture series.”
Jackie had an undiplomatic, dream on, buster, expression on her face. “I’ll let him know.”
Scott took her elbow and guided her away. “You’re doing well. Don’t pop him one in the mouth.”
“I wasn’t going to.” She chuckled. “But it did cross my mind.”
“Consider yourself rescued. Let’s get out of here.”
“Thank you,” she breathed. “I never know how to get away in these situations. I usually end up saying I have to go to the bathroom and then I head for the nearest exit.”
“I’ve got your back, mermaid. This time I’m leading you out the nearest exit.” He guided her down a long, darkened hallway.
“Where are we going?” She hung on to his arm.
Just that simple taking of his arm had Scott’s temperature boiling. “Behind the scenes.”
“Oh?” She sounded intrigued.
He paused in front of a door that had a combination lock on it. He punched in the numbers.
“How do you know the combination?”
“I’ve been here with Megan.”
“She told you the combination?”
“I’m observant.” The door clicked as the tumblers fell into place. Grinning, he pushed it open.
“Hey, if this Coast Guard thing doesn’t pan out, you have a promising career in breaking and entering.”
They were in a cement tunnel that led to the inner workings of the aquarium.
“We’re on the inside looking out.” Glee edged Jackie’s voice. “The guests are out there, we’re in here and they can’t see us.”
“Viewing the world from the fishes’ point of view.”
“Something I’ve spent my life trying to do,” she said.
“You like it better on this side of the glass, don’t you?”
She nodded, peered at the parrot fish swimming past them in dizzy circles. “This is fun. Thank you.”
“You’re easy to please.” He tucked her closer to his side and experienced a heady sense of promise when she didn’t pull away.
They wandered by a tank filled with small, colorful fish. Near the bottom, amidst sand, colored gravel and sea grass, a pair of sea horses was engaged in a courtship ritual. They swam side by side, tails entwined. The sea
horse equivalent of holding hands. Slowly, in unison, they moved in a languid waltz.
“It’s called the predawn dance,” Jackie murmured.
“I know.” He leaned in closer, caught a sweet whiff of her lime-scented hair. “My sister works here.”
“Sorry.” She smiled. “When I’m with laymen I assume they don’t know anything about marine biology.”
“I know much more than you think I do,” he remarked. “Sea horses are monogamous,” Scott added, not knowing why the hell he said that.
“Actually,” Jackie corrected, “that’s a common myth. While many sea horses form bonding pairs that last a season, it’s not an until-death-do-us-part union. And many species readily switch partners whenever the opportunity arises. H. abdominalis and H. breviceps have even been observed breeding in groups.”
“Orgy-loving sea horses? Who knew?”
“Me, for one.” Jackie laughed. The sound, in the confines of the back room, seemed to project into the future, beckoning tomorrow.
“You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you?” he joked.
“Male sea horses gestate the babies. That’s pretty romantic in my book.”
“Why do the males gestate the babies? In the grand scheme of things, that’s pretty unique.”
“Are you sure you want to know? It blows the romantic notion.”
“In the interest of keeping our relationship strictly biological, sure. We don’t need no stinkin’ romance.”
She rewarded him with a wide grin. “Well, Bateman’s principle suggests—”
“What? Bateman? Who’s that?”
“In biology, Bateman’s principle is a theory that suggests females expend more energy in the production of offspring than males and therefore, females are a limiting resource.”
“In other words, eggs are more valuable than sperm.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Exactly. So in regard to sea horses, if Bateman’s theory holds true, then the fact that the male gestates the offspring suggests that generating the eggs drains more from the female than gestating the eggs does for the male. A recent study determined that the energy burden on the female was exactly double that of what the male expended in gestation.”
Scott shook his head. “Boy, you sure know how to shatter a good romantic story.”