That Thing Called Love

by Susan Andersen

  He backed away in horror. “Oh. Hmmm. Well.” He cleared his throat. “You enjoy yourself.” No doubt reconsidering that last piece of advice given her damn tears, he flushed scarlet.

  “Sure.” That time? Really? Avoiding his gaze, she squatted to unfasten the rear line, then climbed in the boat and grabbed the life vest on the middle seat. Putting it on, she moved to the back to take the rear seat and gave Dan a little wave. She made sure the shift lever was in neutral, pulled out the choke, then gave the starter rope a yank.

  It failed to catch, so she poured every ounce of her humiliation and rage into giving it another. This time the motor rumbled to life and she pulled away from the dock. The moment she cleared the last buoy marking the inn’s recreational water, she opened the throttle to get the full horsepower out of it.

  Breathing a sigh of relief to be out where nobody could get to her, she pointed the bow toward Oak Head. She was going to be okay. She just needed time. Time to think, time to get herself together, then she’d be just...fine.

  She kept telling herself that over and over—and was beginning to almost believe it.

  Until she hit the shores of Oak Head, climbed from the boat and, with a throat-scouring sob, her defenses abruptly abandoned all pretense of anything being the least bit fine.

  * * *

  JAKE BANGED THROUGH the front door of the Sand Dollar. She wanted him gone? By God, that’s what she would get! The minute he made Austin understand that he wasn’t abandoning him, but rather trying to preserve the boy’s way of life, he was so out of here. And screw Jenny’s mandate that he’d better not come back. She wasn’t the final arbiter of all things Austin, and he wasn’t about to walk out of his son’s life entirely.

  Austin might’ve been leery about moving from Razor Bay, but he was willing to do it anyhow. Everything he loves here was outweighed by finally having the one thing he’s always longed for more than anything else—a father.

  Jenny’s voice in his head stopped him in his tracks temporarily, but he shook it off and took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. He was still going to be a father. He just wasn’t willing to have his kid left alone in a strange city for chunks of time while he did his job. Not when Austin already had everything he needed right here.

  He headed for the little bathroom he used as a darkroom, hitting the overhead light switch as he cleared the door. He’d start boxing up his equipment and supplies for shipping.

  The first thing he saw, however, were the prints he’d made of Team Day, hanging on the drying line. Turning on the halogen desk lamp he’d set up on the minuscule bathroom counter, he studied each photo beneath its light as he unclipped it.

  And smiled.

  He’d been blown away by how much he’d enjoyed taking these, and that enjoyment showed. It seemed to be the guiding principle of Bradshaw Images that the more he was engaged, the better his work. He’d clearly been engaged big-time the day he’d taken this batch. Because they’d turned out great.

  His work with the album wasn’t done, though. He’d agreed to ready the layouts for the printer and hadn’t even started that yet. Hell, he couldn’t leave tonight, after all. He had work to do.

  Plus, his kid was on his first date. Jake couldn’t do anything to take the shine from that. He’d let Austin have his big night. And he’d finish up the work he had promised.

  He ignored the odd warmth the reversal of his plans seemed to spread in his chest. Because, then he’d go. But not on a forever basis. And if Jenny had a problem with that, well, she could just—

  The shot he’d just unclipped from the line and brought down to view under the light erased his train of thought. Aw, hell, Jenny.

  His heartbeat drummed a furious rhythm. This wasn’t just any photo of her, it was the money shot. He’d managed to capture her very essence in this one. Caught her midlaugh and her shiny dark hair in midswing as she’d turned her head in his direction after someone had said something, which to anyone else likely wouldn’t have seemed more than moderately funny, but to Jenny, with her generous, inclusive spirit, had been riotously amusing.

  “Jake, I love you. Love you, love you, love you.”

  “Christ.” Scrubbing his knuckles over the ache in his heart, he stared at the photo. Hearing the words from her lips had thrust him over the edge, had made him come in the most mind-bending, screaming pulsations of his life.

  “Well, hell, that’s just because—”

  No. He chopped his prevarication off midsentence. No lies. He had to match her honesty, if only to himself. Had to own his feelings for once.

  And admit she’d also been right when she’d said hearing the L word had shaken him—okay, scared him...a little. Because just how much he’d needed to hear it had leveled him. Love had never exactly been his friend.

  Still. Did he hide behind that excuse forever? Or did he face some home truths like a man?

  Maybe he needed to have a conversation with her that was more honest than the last one had been. It might not change anything, but she deserved that. Hell, she deserved so much more than he could ever give her.

  But at the very least she merited a truth for truth.

  He crossed to the upstairs bedroom to look down on the back of her bungalow. The sky was turning that deep midnight-blue that preceded full night, and her place was dark.

  His truth would have to wait. She clearly wasn’t back from wherever she’d gone when she’d left him in her home rather than spend another minute in his presence.

  He rubbed his chest again.

  He made himself go back to work on the layout, but had a hard time concentrating and found himself pausing way too often to check her place again. It remained unlighted, and his mood began to reflect the stygian gloom over there. Where the hell was she?

  His trips to the front bedroom grew so frequent it verged on absurd. He was heading downstairs to grab a beer in hope of getting his brain out of this walk/stand/stare loop, when he heard footsteps coming up the steps and onto the porch.

  He loped down the final stairs and ripped open the door before the knock that sounded on it quit reverberating. He’d hoped to see Jenny on the other side, but it was the inn’s maintenance man, Bob or Dave or—

  Dan. The guy’s name was Dan. “Hey,” he said, trying not to sound impatient. “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah, look, I’m sorry to bother you,” the man said uncomfortably and scratched at his thinning hair, pushing his worn cap even farther to the back of his head than it already was. “But I’m a little worried about Jenny.”

  Jake snapped erect. “Why?”

  “I saw her down at the docks getting into one of the Crestliners earlier. And she was crying.”

  No. His gut iced over.

  Oblivious, Dan continued, “She said it was—” his face reddened “—that time of month. But the thing is, Mr. Bradshaw, you two seem close...and she’s not back yet.”

  Where the hell could she have gone? The question had barely entered his mind before he knew the answer. “I have an idea where I might find her,” he said, stepping out on the porch and closing the door behind him. “Let me see if I can find the keys to Austin’s Bayliner. I wonder why she didn’t take it herself.” He gave his head an impatient shake, because what did it matter; she hadn’t. “If she’s not where I think she is, I’ll call Max to contact the coast guard or the navy.”

  Dan blew out a relieved breath. “Okay, good. That’s a good plan.”

  “Yeah. Assume I’ve found her unless I call to tell you otherwise.” He went down the stairs, but stopped to look back at the other man before he headed across the lot. “Thanks for letting me know, Dan. I appreciate you looking out for her.”

  The maintenance man shrugged. “It’s Razor Bay, son,” he said as if it were a no-brainer. “Looking out for our neighbors is what we do.”
>
  * * *

  STUPID, STUPID, STUPID! The bottom of the Crestliner scraped the pebbled shore at Oak Head for the second time that evening as Jenny leaned back on the rope and hauled the bow of the boat onto enough solid beach to keep it from floating away. Because that, she thought as she found a good-size rock to hold it in place, would just slap a pretty blue ribbon on the idiocy that had led her to strand herself here.

  Aside from donning a life vest, she’d already managed to neglect every boating safety measure that Emmett had ever taught her. She hadn’t bothered to check the boat’s fuel level before she’d taken it from the inn’s dock, for starters. It was maintenance’s job to keep the tanks topped off...when a guest checked out an inn boat. But when a family member or employee used one, it became that person’s responsibility. The same applied to making sure there were oars in the craft.

  Only a few guests had used the boats recently, so the kind of too-few-hands, too-much-to-do situation that might allow maintenance to let the upkeep of one slip through the cracks was highly unlikely. It wasn’t a stretch then to assume this was the boat Austin and...he had taken fishing the other day.

  Which was neither here nor there. Because even if they’d neglected to fill it up when they were through, it didn’t let her off the hook. Anytime you took a boat with an engine out, rule one was always, always, to make sure it had a full tank.

  Rule two was that each boat contain a full set of oars—in case you screwed up rule one.

  She had not only ignored both rules, she’d also stormed off without her cell phone. She’d come straight over here to have her breakdown.

  And boy had she. She’d wallowed in her grief, refusing to get a grip until her head was so stuffed from sobbing she could barely breathe. That’s when she’d decided to head back to the inn so she’d have time to apply enough ice and makeup to conceal her misery from Austin. Because if his father hadn’t run like a thief, the teen would no doubt be riding his own Misery Express tonight. He wouldn’t need hers, as well.

  She hadn’t made it more than half a mile across the canal before the boat had started sputtering. A moment later it was flat out of gas. Realizing what had happened, she’d planned—despite the growing choppiness of the water—to row the rest of the way home.

  Only to discover she was missing an oar. Then the smarter option had become returning to Oak Head, since it was both closer and not bucking the tide.

  So here she was, if not shipwrecked, exactly, then marooned for who knew how long, chilled, hungry and feeling like a colossal fool on so many fronts it was impossible to narrow them down. She could see Razor Bay’s and The Brothers’ lights, but they might as well have been a hundred miles away instead of the two she knew it was.

  The only saving grace of this entire gawd-awful evening was that she’d put the kibosh to her damn crying jag over he-who-would-not-be-named. Given the far from bright night, however, she sure wished she had a lighter or a book of matches so she could build a little fire for some warmth and comfort and—more importantly—to guide whoever ultimately came looking for her. The moon was out, but it wasn’t even half-full and was playing peekaboo with the clouds.

  With a pitiful sigh, she rubbed her tender, tear-swollen eyes and killed some time balancing rocks atop each other, building two short but fairly complicated cairns. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been pacing the beach to keep warm when she heard a boat roaring across the canal in her direction, it’s bow slap, slap, slapping against the chop. As its running lights grew nearer, she raced down to the water, waving her arms and screaming her head off, but the moon had gone behind a cloud again, and calling out was probably a waste of breath, given the noise the powerful engine made. She damn near started bawling again at the thought of it speeding by.

  But miracle of miracles, the driver turned before reaching Dabob Bay and cut the engine to drift ashore. He landed up the beach near the spot where she’d picnicked with Austin and...him.

  Unable to believe her luck, she started running. “Hey!” she yelled, waving her arms overhead again. “Hey!”

  She was met with silence for a moment. Then feet hit the beach. “Jenny? Jesus, are you all right?”

  She stopped short. Dear God, the hits just kept coming. Didn’t it figure it would be Jake?

  All the feelings she’d managed to bury beneath her more immediate problems resurfaced with a vengeance, and she pivoted to storm back the way she’d come. The last thing she needed right now was to be rescued by him. She’d rather be stranded. She’d rather spend the night alone.

  Her pace faltered as common sense took over. No, she really wouldn’t. She was cold, exhausted and hungry and she wanted the hell off this peninsula. If accepting a ride from him was her ticket home, well, then, so be it.

  But she wasn’t saying one word more to him than she had to.

  She turned around and started back up the beach again, heart thundering in her chest to see that, while her back had been turned, he’d gotten very close.

  He strode right up to her and grasped her upper arms, his gaze all over her, just as the damn traitorous moon broke through the clouds.

  For God’s sake, was there no justice in the world tonight? Because, of course she wasn’t one of those women who cried all pretty. So was it truly necessary to shine a spotlight on her blotchy skin and swollen, tear-ravaged eyes?

  “Are you okay?” he demanded again.

  “Yes.” She wanted to shake his hands off her, but something in his eyes made her stand very still beneath them.

  “Jesus,” he breathed. “Ever since Dan told me you’d taken a boat out and hadn’t come back, I’ve had every horrendous possibility that can happen in a boat—and a helluva lot more that can happen anywhere—running through my head. What the hell, Jenny!”

  He hauled her into his arms. “I made a decision on my way over here,” he said, roughly stroking her hair, her back, with blessedly warm hands. “I’m moving my base of operations to Razor Bay.”

  Jenny’s heart stopped, only to immediately resume in triple time. But she told herself not to read more into it than was there. Disengaging herself from all that lovely heat, she took a giant step back. “I thought you didn’t like it here.”

  He made an aborted move as if to reach for her, but then dropped his hands to his side. “It’s grown on me.”

  “That’s...good,” she said with commendable calmness, all things considered. “It will mean the world to Austin.” It might mean hell on earth for her, being so close to Jake on a physical basis while worlds apart emotionally, but she’d just have to do what she’d told him and suck it up.

  “I didn’t make the decision strictly for Austin, Jenny.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stepped closer. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I had a rough ride over here hoping to hell I’d find you here but fearing you’d been drowned or injured or, hell, kidnapped or raped.” He shook his head as if to clear those images. “It made me realize you were right. I was an idiot.”

  Her heart was so firmly lodged in her throat she could barely breathe. “Was?” she croaked.

  “Yeah. I’m a helluva lot smarter now.” He took another step closer, and one hand came out of his pocket to stroke a strand of hair away from the corner of her mouth. His thumb followed up the gesture with a soft circular rub against her lower lip. “It’s funny how fast a good scare can cut through the bullshit. And bull is what I was slinging earlier at your place. You were right. You saying you love me scared the bejesus out of me. Because, God, I love you, Jenny. I likely have for a while now, but I was so damn busy protecting my heart in case you didn’t love me in return.” His dark brows slanted. “Or even if you did, what if you changed your mind?”

  He shook his head. “This was all subconscious, you know? I’m not real big on psychiatry, but in this case, the panic attacks I had every time I felt the least bit h
appy were clearly trying to tell me something. I think I had so many ways it could go south running like a ticker tape at the bottom of my screen that I refused to let what I really wanted work its way to the surface. I’d already decided we needed a more honest talk than I’d given you. But then, when Dan came by and I heard you were crying and had gone out on the canal, I thought of all the awful things that could’ve happened when you didn’t come home. And I simply...knew.”

  And just like that she could breathe again. But it had been a rough night for her, too, and she wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook. “What makes you think those things won’t happen?”

  He shrugged. “They might. But one thing about being in the midst of the longest fifteen minutes of your life, it teaches you not to throw away the best thing that ever happened to you because of something that might never take place.”

  He stepped close, wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and bent to rest his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said in a raw voice. “I can’t promise I’ll never do it again, b—”

  She dipped her chin in solemn agreement. “Because you’re a guy.”

  Drawing his head back to look at her, he gave her a crooked smile. “Right,” he agreed drily. “But a guy who will love you as long as he draws breath. And I’ll do my damnedest to keep my crap to a bare minimum.”

  “Okay,” she said. “So will I.”

  “Do your best to keep my crap to a minimum?”

  She slung her arms around his neck and laughed up at him. “I meant my own, actually, but that works, too.”

  He gave her a look so full of love her heart clutched. “Nah, you haven’t got any,” he said with marvelous sincerity. “You’re like the most perfect person I’ve ever met.”

  “Oh, honey, you go into a relationship thinking that, you’re probably gonna be disappointed. I have my share of issues. Still.” She raised onto her toes to press a kiss against his lips, before settling back on her heels. “I love you,” she said softly. “So, so much.”