by V. K. Sykes
“Tough girl, huh? I’m impressed. Good for you.” The admiration in his voice gave her a funny but nice feeling in her stomach.
Ryan rolled out of the kayak as they neared the beach. He shoved it up onto the sand with Morgan still in it, clutching her paddle. A little wobbly, she got out and popped open the hatch beneath her, pulling out a soft-sided cooler with tuna salad sandwiches, chips, and a Hefty bag with carrots, broccoli, and celery. Ryan retrieved four cans of iced Moosehead beer from a hatch behind her. A minute later, they were sitting side by side on the warm sand, drinking cold beer and munching the food while they enjoyed the cooling breeze off the bay.
They sat together in silence, just enough distance between their bare legs to remain respectable and safe. Morgan gazed out across the picturesque straight between the islands. Two Casco Bay boats passed each other, horns blowing, the passengers waving at each other and at people onshore. Her whole life, watching those trusty little ferries had always given her a sense of peace. The boats seemed somehow symbolic of life on the bay, reliably plying the same routes as they hopped from island to island, rain or shine or snow, season after season, year after year. Those colorful boats had carried her to school, shopping, dancing lessons, proms, vacations, and so many other events in her life. Some of her happiest moments had come when she stepped onto a ferry that would take her home to Seashell Bay and her family and friends.
All that had changed the day she’d boarded a homeward-bound boat in April, grief stricken as she rushed back to deal with the aftermath of her father’s sudden death. Some of the magic had gone out of life on the bay ever since, and Morgan had started to wonder if it would ever fully come back.
Ryan gently bumped her with his shoulder. “Hey, girl, you’ve been in another world most of the afternoon. I’m starting to think I must be boring company.”
She gave a guilty little start. Nothing could be further from the truth, though Morgan had to admit that her mind kept wandering. So often these days she just naturally gravitated toward melancholy. While she was fighting as hard as she could for the inn and to take care of her sister, she couldn’t brush off a persistent hollowed-out feeling—like control of her life was slipping away a little more with each passing day.
She pulled her knees up and twisted to look at Ryan. He was so awesomely masculine that he took her breath away. His long body—tanned, lean, and hard—was bare except for his blue-and-white board shorts. His chest was worthy of endless admiration, and his strong legs stretched out a mile in front of him.
Morgan dug down deep for something mildly amusing. “Uh-oh, I didn’t realize you were such a delicate flower. If there’s one thing you’ll never be, it’s boring, Butler. So quit fishing for compliments.”
He gave her a mock salute with his beer can. “Then why so quiet?”
She shrugged. “The usual. My mind keeps wandering back to all the problems I’ve got to deal with. I’m sorry about that, because I am having a good time. Really.”
He draped an arm around her shoulders. “I get how hard it is for you right now with Sabrina and the B&B and everything. But don’t forget all the things you’ve got going for you too.”
His arm felt so darn comforting that Morgan gave in to a natural instinct to lean into him. What she would not give in to was the instinct to snuggle close. “And what exactly would those things be?”
He tightened his grip a bit. “How about we start with the fact that you’re smart, accomplished, beautiful, and incredibly nice.”
Morgan’s girlie heart gave a little flutter. “Wow, that’s only the start? Then by all means keep going, sir.”
“Well, let’s just say not every sister would be as devoted to Sabrina as you are.”
Oops. Wrong thing to say, although that wasn’t his fault. Morgan always felt like she wasn’t good enough when it came to her sister. Wasn’t doing enough.
She pulled back a bit. He loosened his embrace but didn’t let go.
“Kristi said something interesting while you and Christian were lugging the kayak down to the beach,” she said. “Something about you.”
“Please tell me it wasn’t X-rated. That woman is terrifying, by the way.”
“She managed to keep it PG.”
“That’s a relief. So what did she say?”
“Oh, that you’d make a great father if some lucky girl ever got you to the altar. That’s pretty much a direct quote.” She watched carefully for his reaction.
Frowning, Ryan took his arm from around her. “She thinks I’d make a good father just because I was nice to her son?”
“You’ve always had a natural way with kids, Ryan. You might have forgotten that.”
“I don’t know. Christian’s just a really nice kid who wants to be good at whatever he does. So he gives it maximum effort every time out. I really like kids like that.”
“So do I,” Morgan said. “The poor little guy just wants to please his parents, and I don’t think he finds that easy.”
“Well, with his attitude, I’d put my money on him over a more gifted kid who thinks everything should be handed to him on a silver platter.”
Morgan agreed. “So you’re really going to take Kristi up on the lessons?”
“Why not? I figure it should be a nice break from work.”
“Christian will be thrilled, and so will his mother,” Morgan said drily. She thought for a few seconds before deciding to take the plunge. “And speaking of his mother, it was obviously none of Kristi’s business—or anyone else’s—as to when some girl gets you to the altar.”
Okay, not the most skillful probing, but his reaction would be instructive.
Ryan’s jaw tightened, and he stared grimly across the channel. “You got that right.”
As a matter of fact, she did get it. “Well, people get curious. Folks here are always sliding questions at me about my so-called love life—when I’m going to get married and start popping out babies. All that stuff. It’s worse now because I’m getting older and don’t have a mother around to field the questions. People sometimes just come right out and ask me point-blank, or tell me I should be married, like saying it will make it so.”
Ryan drew his legs up and propped his arms on his knees. “Mom gets her fair share of that sort of thing when it comes to me.”
“What does she say?”
“I think the gist is that I’m too busy running around the world to settle down.”
Morgan suppressed a sigh. “Sounds about right, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
She didn’t want to press him. He was obviously closed up pretty tight on the subject.
A moment later, Ryan turned to look at her. “What do you say when people ask stuff like that?”
Her heart skipped a beat. Was he really prodding her to talk about her love life? Ryan Butler? The more important question was, why?
She faced him. “You really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t,” he said.
“Okay, mostly I try to blow it off. But if people persist, I’ll go so far as to admit that I do want to get married and have children someday. Only with the right man though. I don’t think I have it in me to be a single parent. It would be too hard.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “Boring, huh?”
Ryan pushed his sunglasses up on his forehead, his dark eyes studying her so intently she began to feel nervous.
“Not boring,” he finally said. “Nice. You deserve the right man, Morgan. And he’ll be a damn lucky guy when he finds you.”
And maybe I’m already right under his nose.
She strongly doubted that he was thinking along any such lines, which meant she shouldn’t either. “It’d probably be easier for him to discover the cure for the common cold than unearth the love of his life in Pickle River, Maine, population ten and falling.”
Ryan choked out a laugh. “That bad, huh?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Trust me, I’m barely exaggerating. So what about you, mystery man?
Are you waiting for the right woman? Because you certainly deserve to find her,” she finished with a teasing smile. She didn’t want him to go squirrely on her now by getting too serious.
Ryan turned away again, gluing his gaze on the water. Her heart sinking, Morgan wondered if he was simply ignoring the question.
She shimmied back around, picked up a pebble from the beach, and tossed it as far as she could into the channel. It made a barely perceptible splash. Ryan looked at her again, and she got a jolt at the grim set to his gorgeous mouth and something that looked like pain in his eyes.
“I don’t think of it in those terms,” he said. “In fact, I try not to think about it much at all.”
Annoyed by his cryptic response—and annoyed that she was annoyed—Morgan scrambled for a light response.
“More fun to keep playing the field, huh? I can see why. You must have to fight off scads of women who’d like nothing better than a little attention from big, strong you. You’re such a badass.” She batted her eyelashes.
Weirdly, his gaze narrowed with even greater intensity. It surprised her that he didn’t take the easy out.
“I’ve learned the hard way that it’s not a great idea to get involved,” he said. “Even if somebody could put up with the danger and with only seeing me once in a blue moon, I’m not into that kind of a relationship. They hardly ever work.”
The obvious conviction behind his words took her aback. “You know there are successful military marriages, Ryan, despite long deployments.”
His smile was grim. “You know what the divorce rate is in Spec Ops units?”
Morgan wasn’t about to guess.
“I’ve heard it’s around 80 percent,” Ryan said. “So your chances of success are one in five. And believe me, it’s no better for guys who work for private military contractors.”
She stared at him. “That’s awful. But you won’t be doing that kind of work forever. You told me that at Diamond Cove.”
“No, but it’s where I am now. Would it be fair to a woman to pretend we could have a relationship that would actually last?” He picked up a pebble and launched it out into the channel, far beyond where hers had sunk.
Boy, how could she even respond to that kind of cynicism?
“You’ve told me that teaching means more to you than anything else,” Ryan went on, as if challenging her. “Would you sacrifice your career even if you thought you’d found the right guy?”
His attitude was starting to piss her off. “I don’t know about that, but I’ve certainly given it up now, at least for the time being. Maybe for a long time.” She stared at him, feeling defiant. “And I did it because my sister needs me. That’s more important than my career.”
He grimaced. “Jesus, Morgan, I didn’t mean—”
She held up a hand. “It’s fine, Ryan. Really.” She flashed him a smile. “We shouldn’t be getting this heavy anyway. We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We can blame it on Kristi.”
“Yes, let’s. And speaking of Mrs. Buckle, mark my words, that woman is hot for you, husband or no husband. You’re only sleeping about twenty feet apart, so I’d advise you to keep your door locked at night if you want to avoid a midnight visit.”
This time, the smile did reach his eyes. He slid an arm around her waist. “If I wanted company, Kristi’s not the woman at Golden Sunset I’d want in my room.” His arm tightened around her waist, gently pulling her against his naked torso.
Morgan froze, staring at him. The slowly building heat in his gaze sure didn’t look like a joke, nor did the arm around her waist feel like just a friendly gesture—not when she was plastered against all that warm, brawny muscle. And honest to God, she hadn’t a clue how to react.
Liar.
His eyebrows ticked up, then he sighed and withdrew his arm. “Sorry. I made you uncomfortable.”
“You just kind of surprised me.” Morgan swallowed past a lump in her throat. God, she didn’t want him to let her go. “But we seem to be making a habit of this, don’t we?”
He smiled wryly. “If twice constitutes a habit.”
She sucked in a deep breath and decided it was time for some frank talk. “You know I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling the same, Ryan. Like practically every minute since I saw you on the ferry.”
“I hear a ‘but’ coming.”
How could she explain how terribly vulnerable she felt? Between her father’s death, her worries for Sabrina, and her insecurity about her own future, she was close to being an emotional basket case. How could she possibly risk a summer hookup with Ryan? That would lead to a world of hurt down the road—especially since he’d just made it blazingly clear that he avoided long-term commitments.
“But I’m . . . I’m not there emotionally, Ryan. I don’t think I could handle it, no matter how much I might want to. I’m kind of a wreck right now.” She briefly nestled her face against his shoulder. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be. I get where you’re coming from.” Ryan gave his head a shake. “I’m just finding it damn near impossible to ignore all this crazy chemistry between us. Hell, sometimes it feels like I’ve got a grenade inside me.”
Boy, that was exactly how she felt. If Ryan grabbed her and kissed her now, she’d probably be lost. They’d end up naked on this pebbly beach, getting busy in plain view of every boater sailing down the channel.
It was appalling how much she wanted that.
“The chemistry exists all right,” she said. “Like a hurricane exists. I just don’t think I want to find out what happens when we get sucked into the vortex.”
Ryan studied her, but Morgan couldn’t read his expression. Then his gaze shifted away. A moment later, when he slid his arm around her shoulder, his light touch felt like that of a buddy offering comfort. “I understand. I just hope I haven’t screwed up our friendship.”
Moved by his consideration, Morgan slid her arm around his waist. For a moment longer, they quietly leaned into each other like the old friends they’d always been.
Chapter 11
Morgan’s head had started to droop minutes after Ryan pushed the kayak away from the beach. Before they reached Pumpkin Knob, she’d slumped all the way forward, giving in to exhaustion. He’d nudged her awake once, but she’d blearily muttered something unintelligible and nodded off again. Since she was strapped into the kayak with her paddle stowed and wasn’t in an uncomfortable position, Ryan decided to let her doze. The combination of the alcohol, the heat, and the gentle rolling motion of the kayak had clearly been too much for her.
He’d insisted she relax on the journey back to Seashell Bay and let him do all the work. She’d protested, of course, but he could see the relief in her eyes. Even with freeloading a ride home, she would no doubt feel the effect of all the paddling by tomorrow morning.
The image of Morgan stretching in a long, hot shower, trying to work out the kinks in her muscles, was pretty much driving him nuts. In his mind, he was right behind her in that shower, doing his level best to relax that oh-so-sweet body of hers. It was a picture he couldn’t shake loose, no matter what he tried to think about.
At least Morgan had finally admitted in words what her body language had been telling him since the day he arrived. She wanted him as much as he wanted her but just couldn’t bring herself to let down her self-imposed barriers. She was clearly afraid of wanting more from him than he could give, and then having to watch him head off from Seashell Bay yet again.
But the way he looked at it, he and Morgan had this insane attraction that just wouldn’t quit. Fighting every day to ignore it was just going to make it worse for both of them, so why bother? They could scratch the itch and still be careful enough of each other’s feelings to make it work. After all, they were both clear on the limitations of each other’s lives, so why not have some fun? Morgan damn well needed and deserved that, and Ryan figured he was the guy to give it to her. With all the p
ressures on her now, a risk-free fling was exactly what the doctor ordered—not some intense, emotional affair that would only confuse things and make her life more complicated.
Besides, flipping back the pages to some we’re-just-friends mode would be like trying to stuff toothpaste back in the tube.
The return crossing of Hussey Sound had passed quickly with Ryan paddling hard all the way, his rhythm falling into the smooth and automatic stroke that placed him in the zone. As he passed the B&B’s small floating dock, he slowed to a crawl and got ready to jump out and push the kayak up onto the beach. The sun had dipped low behind them.
Morgan must have sensed the speed change, because she jerked upright. She reached her arms up, twisted, and stretched, giving him a sweet view of her breasts. Then she looked back at him with a sheepish smile. “Wow, I missed almost the whole ride. Sorry about that.”
Ryan climbed out. “Beer makes you sleepy. That and physical exhaustion.” He gently guided the craft toward the shore until it grounded.
Morgan followed him out and lifted the bow, helping him carry the kayak a few yards past the high tide mark. Just to be on the safe side, Ryan had driven a metal stake deep into the sand and now used it to tie down the tandem. In the heavy dusk, he could barely make out the path that led down the gentle slope from the house to the dock. Proper lighting away from the main house was probably another thing Cal Merrifield hadn’t been able to afford.
Morgan peered up toward the brightly lit B&B. “It’s a good thing I called Sabrina to let her know we’d be late, otherwise she’d be worried that I might be lobster food by now.”
Ryan put a hand on the small of her back and guided her over the pebbled beach. “She knows you’re a good swimmer. Not to mention that you’re in extremely capable hands.”
Morgan grinned over her shoulder. “So I’ve heard, Mr. Modest.”
He nudged her on. “I do know my way around these waters, babe.”
When they reached the path, an overgrown line of flat stones that meandered up to the house, Morgan stopped and turned around. It was dark enough that he could barely make out her expression.