Caught Between a Rock and a Hunka Man (Caught Between Romance Book 3)

by Sheila Seabrook

  She shrugged and turned her gaze toward the beach. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone that I told you the truth. I still need my job.”

  He watched her plod through the sand after their moms.

  He’d known right from the moment they’d had the meeting on board the yacht that Paul and Bill and Marla were up to something, and whatever that something was, it had to do with forcing him back to the life he’d escaped.

  Which he could never do.

  His dad was right.

  Marla had been abandoned by her dad, then by Bill. She didn’t need another man who didn’t stick around.

  And considering the dangers involved in his business, she didn’t need a man who might never be able to come home to her again.

  Even though he wanted her, he could never be the man she needed.

  Doing the right thing totally sucked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Marla stalked away from Reed.

  What had she done? Admitting the truth like that was a sure fire guarantee that he’d never talk to her again.

  Paul had instructed them to do whatever was necessary to convince Reed to return to the accounting firm, which she now knew without a doubt would never happen. Her only other option—convince Reed to help her prove to his dad that she was the right person for the job—had been blown right out of the water.

  Eventually she knew that Paul had to turn the firm over to someone, and hopefully that someone would be her. Although truth be told, as long as his body and brain cooperated, he could work well into his eighties and more.

  Sadly, for herself, what had once excited her now left her cold and empty.

  A splash down the beach drew her attention and she turned to catch sight of Reed diving into the waves, the sunlight glinting off his strong back and shoulders and arms as he swam toward the sunken yacht. It took her a moment to remember that he’d headed out that way to search for Paul’s medication, not to escape.

  Marla sighed.

  She loved the timbre of his voice, loved the sensation of his body pressed into hers, loved the way he cared about everyone around him…even when he pretended he didn’t.

  He was big and strong, and somehow she’d fallen for him. Hard and fast and all one-sided. It had been far less complicated when she’d needed him to be weak in the knees over her, not the other way around.

  Ahead of her, Mary trudged toward the campfire, while Betty plopped down on the sand near the water’s edge, holding her cell phone overhead, still searching for a signal.

  “It’s no use, Mom,” Marla said as she sat down next to her, one eye on the determined grandma next to her, the other eye on the hot guy in the water. “You’re not going to find a signal way out here.”

  Her mom smacked the phone on the side. “There’s always hope.”

  “Hope,” Marla sighed as she watched Reed climb up the yacht ladder, water streaming off him like man-candy. It was all she could do to contain the drool…and the sadness that threatened to curl her into a ball in the sand. She needed a distraction. “Are you ever going to finish telling me about you and Paul?”

  Betty smacked the cell again, and a drop of water dripped from the interior. “It’s too x-rated for you.”

  She brushed at the sand on her feet. “So leave the dirty parts out.”

  “It’s kind of boring without them.”

  “I like boring.”

  “That’s why you couldn’t keep Bill, honey, and why your receptionist has him now.”

  Maybe what her mom said was true.

  Her attention wandered to the yacht again. Reed had disappeared below deck. She could barely see the silhouette of his head through the round galley windows.

  She sighed because she knew full well that once they got off the island, she’d never see him again. She’d go back to being Paul’s boring minion—irregardless of whether or not it was in the partnership role—and Reed would return to his life salvaging ships from the bottom of the ocean floor. There was absolutely no hope of ever convincing him to return to the firm as a partner, no hope of ever convincing him to settle down permanently.

  She’d known it right from the moment he’d told her about his marine salvage business. Reed would never give up his life and return to Serendipity Island. Which left her exactly where?

  Tired of being hungry, fed up with being hot and sticky, longing for a shower almost more than she wanted food, she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and distracted herself with her mom. “I should have left you at home and told you I was spending the week holed up in a hotel room with a potential sperm donor. At least you’d be safe instead of stuck here.”

  “I’m not getting any younger, you know.” Her mom set the phone on her lap. “I don’t understand why you’re compelled to leave me alone when you are all I have.”

  “The guilt trip won’t work on me,” Marla said, while a frisson of guilt traveled from her stomach to her spine and tingled its way up into her brain, making her think She’s right. If something happens to me, she’ll be all alone. A grandchild would be so welcome. “I want the truth, Mom. What happened all those years ago? Why would you seduce your best friend’s husband?”

  Her mom looked away, toward the ocean and the horizon. “I was weak. Heartbroken after your dad left. I let Paul move in. Take over.”

  Marla straightened, surprised. “Paul moved in with us? Why don’t I remember?”

  “You were so young.” Her mother got this dreamy look in her eye before she seemed to shake herself back to the present. “After your dad disappeared, Mary got mad at Paul for spending so much time with us. She didn’t understand. We were grieving and Paul always took his responsibilities serious. We’d become his responsibility. So she threw him out of the house and he moved in with us.”

  “What?”

  “She gave him an ultimatum. Her or us.” Her mom’s eyes narrowed. “When she realized he was falling in love with me and her plan had backfired, I don’t know what she did or said, but she convinced him to return to her.”

  “Mother, did you really sleep with him?”

  “A woman has needs. I had needs.” Her gaze centered on Paul, then skittered toward Mary. “I still do. I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten what passion feels like.” Her mom leaned into her shoulder and lowered her voice. “I tell you. Something happened on that trip. It was enough to make your dad decide not to come home.”

  “He was irresponsible and selfish,” Marla said but for the first time, she didn’t feel the anger that she normally felt when she thought of him. At least he got away from all the people poking and prodding into his life, probably the same people who were poking and prodding into her life. She felt her mood deflate. Maybe he was the smart one and she was the dumb one.

  Which made Reed’s decision to escape his family and Serendipity Island all the more understandable.

  The man who fascinated her appeared on the yacht deck, a plastic bag in hand. He dove into the water, his strokes sure and smooth, and she couldn’t help but wonder what a lifetime with him would be like. And if she even had a chance at that impossible dream.

  A noise to her right caught her attention and Bill, wearing the pants and shirt she’d sliced into shreds, slid into the empty spot beside her, his jaw hard. “Shredding my clothes was a stupid idea, Marla.”

  “Not from my point of view.”

  He held out his hand. Squiggling on his palm was a beetle on its back. “Hungry? Here, I brought you a peach offering.”

  She leaned away from him, shook her head, and watched him pop the beetle into his mouth.

  Gross.

  Maybe eventually she’d get that hungry, but it definitely wasn’t today.

  As he chewed and swallowed, he rubbed at his temples, then turned toward her, his normally perfectly styled hair sporting a rooster tail, his face flushed a deeper hue than Paul’s, his eyes unusually bright. “Trudy says I have to apologize. If I don’t, she won’t let me—we
ll, you know.”

  Marla glanced Trudy’s way, and saw the younger woman gnawing on a fingernail, watching them. Obviously she hadn’t told Bill about the condoms. “Good for her.”

  “Hey, don’t be on her side,” he growled. “You barely know anything about her.”

  “Yeah, but I’m starting to really like her.” She gave Trudy a thumbs up, then refocused on her ex. “What do you want, Bill?”

  “Trudy always follows through on her threats. So apology accepted? It’s been six months since the divorce. Shouldn’t you have forgiven me by now?”

  “It doesn’t work that way. There’s no time limit for forgiveness.” She frowned at him. “Besides, if you apologized, I totally missed it.”

  From the other side of her, Betty piped up with, “That’s because he didn’t actually say the words. Want me to get Miss Booby?”

  Bill’s slouched position vanished and he gave a furtive look toward his girlfriend. “Shhhh, don’t let her hear you call her that. It’s insulting and mean and she easily gets her feelings hurt.”

  Marla quirked one eyebrow at him. “Says the man who insults her the most.”

  He straightened his back, indignant. “I don’t insult her.”

  “Yes, you do. Every time you treat her like she’s the sum of her breasts.” She sighed and decided what the heck. She didn’t want Bill, but for whatever reason, Trudy did. “Look, maybe if you sat down and actually talked to her, listened to her with the head on your shoulders, not the one in your pants.”

  He grimaced. “Look where that got you and me.”

  She softened her voice. “I’m not Trudy. She’s different. She needs your respect and the space to grow and become the woman she’s meant to be.”

  “I don’t like it,” he grumbled.

  She shrugged. “Do whatever you want. You always have. But if you lose her, it’s your own fault.”

  He sat there, sulky and annoyed, and Marla wondered how she’d ever convinced herself that she was attracted to him. In another ten years, is this how Trudy would view him? They said there was someone out there for everyone, so maybe what the younger woman claimed she felt was real and lasting.

  Maybe Bill was Trudy’s someone. Except that Bill needed to go through some major changes in how he treated the younger woman or they’d be miserable in another five years.

  Bill’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Uncle Paul said that the radio was fried by lightning before Reed could get a distress call off.”

  His voice had taken on that annoying cadence that always made her want to pull a plastic bag over his head and seal it extra tight around his neck. She frowned because she realized that she was having a lot of those kill somebody moments lately. Sex with Reed would definitely relieve the frustration and pressure. Except now they had no condoms.

  Plus, he wouldn’t want her that way, now that he knew she’d been playing him all along.

  Bill’s serious-as-mud face was getting redder and madder by the second.

  “There’s no Starbuck’s,” he hissed, as though that would make a difference in her world, while beside her, Betty snickered and pulled out her knitting needles. But she knew that look and it boded no good for anyone within a fifty mile radius. Bill depended on his coffee like her mom depended on her knitting needles.

  “Calm down, Bill.” She tried to catch Trudy’s gaze, but the younger women was now ignoring them, and instead was focused on wiggling and squiggling and giving a tug here and there on her sinfully skimpy bathing suit, checking to ensure the sun was hitting her skin right, and her suit was in perfect position so there wouldn’t be any additional suntan lines.

  Marla refocused on Bill who had closed his eyes to rub at the bridge of his nose, and wondered if knowing where exactly they’d gone wrong could help her in future relationships. Softly she asked, “Why did you dump me?”

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose and squinted at her. “All those nights you spent in the office, you left me home alone. What was I supposed to do by myself? Pine away till you decided to pay attention to me?”

  She blinked at him. “You never said anything.”

  He wiped a hand down his face. “Would it have done any good?”

  “Probably not,” she admitted. She’d always been so wrapped up in her career, so determined to prove to Paul that he could depend on her. “So what are you going to do about Trudy?”

  He gritted his teeth and glared across the beach at the younger woman. “Trudy’s not even sure if she wants me around any more.”

  “Oh, give me a break, you dumb lug.” When he didn’t respond, just continued to glare at his young girlfriend, Marla let her attention return to Reed as he strode out of the water, tall and confident and heart-stoppingly gorgeous. And she couldn’t help but recall all those times when she’d been splayed up against the solidness of his body, her own body reacting like a parched desert.

  He made his way toward his dad, the plastic bag with the pill bottles in hand. It looked soggy and wet.

  The Reed Readners of the world may not be interested in sticking around for the long haul, but at least they didn’t lie about their intentions. And for the short term, they were mighty dependable. More than once, he’d proven that.

  Whenever he was in her space, she felt alive. Her body, her senses, everything in and out of her. Even now, just the sight of his big strong body made her want to crawl into his arms and experience that stomach jolting rush that told her for certain she wasn’t dead.

  Bill nudged her in the shoulder. “Well?”

  Giving an inward sigh, she dragged her attention back to her ex. “Well what?”

  “You and me together again, sharing the partnership, sharing our life.”

  Six months ago, she would have jumped at his offer, but as she watch Reed return to the water’s edge and pull a waterlogged suitcase out of the surf, her heart expanded with longing. She pushed to her feet. “Never going to happen, Bill. Why don’t you forget the partnership and go sort things out with Trudy?”

  Noticing that her mom had vanished, she left Bill behind and strolled across the beach toward Reed. He was soaked from head to toe, and every inch of his clothing clung to his big body like a second skin. Lust slammed into her again, hard and strong and desperate.

  It had to be the isolation of the island and the fact that she had nothing to distract her, she decided as she came to a standstill a few feet from him, and watched all that sinewy muscle bunch and gather and release. It couldn’t be love, not this fast and hard. There was just something about the male body—his male body—that kept her absolutely enthralled.

  When he glanced up and saw her standing there, his gaze was hooded, wary. “What’s up, French Fry?”

  Maybe she was crazy. Maybe this was all some quirky nightmarish dream—this island, Reed’s attraction and concern. Any moment now, she was going to wake up on the single bed in her mom’s house, caught in the lonely nightmare of her life like she’d been since…well, since always.

  Yeah, she could admit that now and didn’t it take a huge chunk out of her armor. She’d always pushed everyone away to prove that she could manage on her own.

  But she didn’t want to do that with Reed, even if this thing between them was only temporary. Maybe tonight, after everyone else was asleep, they could figure out a way to make love without taking a risk that would shackle him to a life that would kill his spirit and soul.

  She forced a smile and a relaxed stance, even though all she wanted to do at the moment was grab onto him and hold tight. But he’d made it perfectly obvious that he didn’t want to be tied down, and there was no way she’d ever do that to him. “I wonder if you would help me search for some coffee before we have a mutiny on our hands?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Trudy pushed to her feet, brushed the sand off the front of her body, swished her hands in the shallow waves, then beelined toward the camp to prepare something to celebrate Mr. Readner’s birthday.

  Although really,
it appeared that she was the only one who even remembered the reason they were out here in the first place.

  She felt a pang in her heart and tried not to think about how lonely she was without Bill at her side. It felt as though someone had ripped out her guts and was now working on her heart.

  As she gathered up the fruit stored under the makeshift table in the shade, she saw the boss lady with the captain, saw Bill in his shredded clothes flat on his back staring at the clear blue sky like he’d been marooned for months, saw the two older women walking along the beach hand in hand, then saw Mr. Readner head her way.

  She picked up the knife, proceeded to slice and dice the fruit, and focused on the task at hand so that she wouldn’t accidentally slice off a finger.

  As Mr. Readner’s shadow lengthened across the table, she met his kind eyes. “Happy birthday, Mr. Readner.”

  He grunted and grumbled, “You are currently my favorite and only dependable employee. I always know I can count on you to hold things together.”

  She straightened to her full height, proud of her organizational skills. “Thank you, sir.” When he turned to go, she forced herself to speak up. “Sir, do I have your permission to speak freely?”

  He turned back, his gaze curious. “Of course.”

  “It’s about your retirement.”

  One brow raised, but he held his silence and waited for her to speak.

  All of a sudden, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Would he appreciate her interference? She was only twenty-one, a kid by his standards.

  His soft voice broke through her thoughts. “Trudy?”

  She glanced down at the fruit and continued to chop. “Sir, you’re sixty-five today. You have a wife who loves you.” She thought of the recent arguments he’d had with his wife, then pushed those thoughts away and carried on. “If you want her to be happy, you need to take her wants into consideration. Even if you don’t want to retire, you should at least spend some quality time with her and rediscover the woman you married.”