ROOM...BUT NOT BORED

by Dawn Atkins

  Stop it. Her husband would not be a lazy beach bum, but a dedicated professional and loving mate, who understood and valued her own ambitious nature. Concentrate. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her fists and called up the familiar image of her future husband. He was wispy, a little faint maybe, but there he was—tall, with dark, wavy hair. Here's a rose from our garden, he'd say and hand it to her. Not quite as beautiful as you. That was more like it. Time to swim our laps, he'd say, his guiding hand warm on her back. But first, let's try on this scuba tank. Jake again!

  She banged her steering wheel. She was so upset, she couldn't even manage a decent fantasy in her dream neighborhood. Disgusted with herself, she headed home for her, gulp, diving lesson.

  * * *

  Ariel sat beside Jake in his Beetle as they drove to the marina for the dive trip, her stomach in a knot, her breathing shallow and shaky. It had been all well and good in the pool, where Jake had shown her how to use fins, a snorkel, the buoyancy-compensation vest and a mouthpiece. But now she would be in the deep, remorseless ocean.

  She glanced at Jake as he pulled into a spot at the marina. He was whistling, completely calm. It was all his fault. Him and his coaxing smoky-blue eyes, his infectious smile and breezy confidence.

  He glanced at her. "You'll do fine," he said, squeezing her knee. "Just let Brice do most of the talking. You'll learn what you need to know. The man loves an audience."

  "That's not what I'm worried about," she said.

  "What? You're scared about the dive? That's the easy part." He gave her a Cheshire cat grin. She half suspected he'd insisted on the dive to give her something life-threatening to distract her from obsessing about getting the client.

  He had a point, of course. She'd changed her clothes three times and printed out two versions of "first thoughts" for Brice, which Jake had convinced her she should save until after the first meeting. Then he'd refused to let her bring her laptop along. "You start clicking on computer keys and Brice will think you're too high-end for him."

  So, here she was, wearing light pants and a white cotton blouse over her swimsuit, carrying just a bag with a towel and a notepad, her pulse jumpy, glancing at Jake, who guided her by her elbow, his warm hand a comfort to her.

  She did feel safe with Jake—odd because he was the last person she'd think of to count on. He couldn't even stay with a painting task for more than an hour. But he'd been a patient and masterful teacher, focused completely on her, demonstrating each technique with care, then helping her try each one again and again, until clearing her mask and snorkel and using the fins were second nature to her.

  He'd stressed safety rules, showed her how to buddy-breathe. She did like that about scuba. Since you couldn't hear each other, you had to stay within sight of your buddy, checking eyes, knowing hand signals for trouble or danger or fear.

  If something went wrong with your breathing apparatus, your buddy would give you air through the second mouthpiece or by taking turns with his own. Underwater, your life was in your buddy's hands. And with Jake as a buddy, she felt quite safe.

  They walked down the pier, and she spotted the faded sign for Water Gear. Inside the weather-worn front door stood a tall, leather-skinned man, early fifties, his hair a sun-bleached brown, wearing a denim shirt and a canvas hat.

  "Brice Logan, meet Ariel Adams," Jake said.

  "Nice to meet you, Brice," Ariel said. "I'm honored to have this opportunity to…" Jake caught her eye. Take it easy. Don't push. "…meet you," she finished. "Jake's told me a little about your business."

  "Don't listen to this dreamer," Brice said. "You hear him tell it, I should end up the McDonald's of scuba shops."

  "All he's told me is that you love what you do," she said.

  Jake smiled and gave her a soft nod. Nice and easy.

  "This is the place," Brice said, giving the worn, gouged counter a loving rub. "We rent out the best gear—no cheap crap." He showed her the brands and various pieces of equipment, complained about his inventory and his part-time workers. She asked questions about seasonal shifts in his business, keeping it light and conversational, but taking rapid mental notes, not risking her pad yet. She wished she'd slipped a dictation tape recorder into her beach bag.

  She felt that familiar excitement, that joy when she began to absorb a client's world, make it her own, take on his hopes and dreams and help him shape the future into something he wanted. She'd been so worried about capturing clients, she'd completely forgotten how much fun this was.

  "Hate to cut this short," Jake said, glancing at his watch, "but we need to hit the dive spot before the water gets murky."

  "Guess I've been talking your ear off," Brice said as they made their way to the boat.

  "And I've enjoyed every minute," Ariel said.

  Brice looked at her, his gaze piercing, taking her measure. She could feel his interest, his respect.

  Then the engine roared, the boat dug into the water and they were off. Here we go. This is it. Into the ocean, deep and blue and dangerous. Ariel's heart began to pound. To distract herself from what lay ahead, she asked Brice more questions, gently probing his goals and interests. He was a hands-on guy, not good at delegation, so she'd suggest a slow expansion and only with trusted staff. She was itching to assess the market and do a force-field analysis on the risk factors.

  She caught sight of Jake. He was driving the boat, but watching her, too, looking pleased with himself. Like someone who'd arranged a blind date that turned into true love.

  They reached the dive spot and Jake killed the engine. Instantly, Ariel's heart leapt to her throat. This was it. Underwater dozens of feet. She swallowed hard, trying to force her heart back down into her chest.

  Brice caught the look on her face. "Jake's the best there is," he said, patting her trembling knee. "You'll do fine."

  Her scuba suit on, Ariel let Jake help her with her tank and buoyancy-compensation vest. She tried to keep her teeth from chattering in fear.

  "It's just like in the pool, only magic," he said in her ear. "Just stay close and keep breathing."

  "I'm not sure I can do that—keep breathing, I mean." She tried to smile.

  Jake squeezed her shoulder. "You'll do fine. You're a natural."

  Light glinted off the water, the gun-metal blue of the sea blending into the lighter color of the sky. The shore seemed miles and miles and miles away.

  Jake went in first, holding his mask in place and falling backward into the water, as he'd taught her. She went in right after him, gasping at the cold shock of the water, until her body heat warmed the water between her suit and skin.

  She released some air from her vest so she dropped a few feet below the surface and hung there, suspended.

  Her breaths were quick and harsh and she realized she'd soon hyperventilate. She forced herself to slow her breathing and looked up at the surface, bright with sunlight. The bottom of the boat was a comforting shape above her. If only she were up there, safe and sound. Jake kicked over to her and held up an "okay" gesture as a question. She returned it. So far, so good.

  He nodded, then pointed down. She looked and saw an unbelievable new world—a forest of swaying kelp, impossibly fragile-looking pink anemones, antlers of flowery blue coral, purple cabbage-like plants and craggy stone. Amazing.

  So this was why people risked drowning and shark attack! A group of neon-gold fish, brilliant against the gray-green of the sea, swam past. Their bright beauty made her make a sound as close to a gasp as she could manage while gripping a mouthpiece between her teeth. She spotted a skittering lobster on the ocean floor—some forty feet below—and a spiky pincushion of a black urchin rolling past a thick-armed magenta starfish.

  Ariel looked at Jake, amazed. He was watching her face, his expression like a parent at Christmas, absorbing his child's joy. He took her hand and squeezed through the glove. I know. It's magic. A look passed between them. Here they were in the soft, salty water, poised halfway between the ocean floor and its
surface, deep in the wonder of a new universe.

  She noticed Brice swimming nearby. He pointed at a piece of coral, where she could see a fat sea cucumber—bright yellow—waddle by. Then she spotted a moss-colored moray eel near a fan-like coral so yellow it practically glowed.

  Jake pulled something out of his vest pocket and scattered it. Suddenly they were surrounded by dozens of fish in every shape, a few brightly-colored, most gray or green or silver, but shimmering, speckled and striped—some narrow silver flickers like minnows, others round and fat or broad and flat, some with odd beaked faces—and all of them whisking by, snapping at what Jake had released. Peas. She saw that now. She shrieked as a gray fish as big as her head darted straight for her then snapped at a pea mere inches from her face mask.

  She looked at Jake and made out that he was laughing at her. She nodded her head violently, trying to show him how delighted she was, but she could tell he already knew. She whirled in wonder, watching the velvety fish as they snacked around her, their fins waving lazily, gills fluttering, eyes unblinking.

  When the food had been eaten or had sunk, Jake took her hand and they began to kick through the water. A shot of air in her vest and she rose like a flying superhero to skim over the tops of little hills of coral and stone, past tall forests of swaying kelp, and then dipped lower to look more closely at the tiny colorful blossoms of sea plants, the antlered and fan-like coral, the tiny camouflaged, skittering animals and fish.

  A bat ray swung lazily by, like a bird with slow wings, menacing and beautiful. She and Jake cruised along, wagging their fins lazily and she stared, eyes so wide they hurt, taking it all in, glancing at Jake, who gently showed her things she would have missed—an unusual starfish, an octopus hiding in a crevice, a crab scuttling drunkenly by—all underwater gifts he seemed to offer her.

  She wished she had one of those waterproof slates so she could write exclamations to Jake. She tried to memorize everything she was seeing so she could mark them off on one of the laminated fish charts she'd seen in Brice's shop.

  All too soon, Jake tapped at his watch, holding his wrist in front of her face. Time. They were running out of oxygen and had to ascend.

  She nodded and he squeezed her hand, acknowledging her disappointment. She shifted so she was upright and they faced each other and slowly kicked upward. She counted, knowing they should take a minute for every ten feet they'd been below to allow the oxygen time to leave their bloodstream, but she knew Jake would never let harm come to her. He was her dive buddy. And her friend. A fact more wonderful than it should be.

  * * *

  Jake watched Ariel break the surface. She dropped her mouthpiece, ripped her mask off and went nuts describing what she'd seen. He had to hold himself back to keep from hugging her and kissing her and bursting out laughing at her. Brice would never let him live that down, so he contented himself with agreeable remarks: "I saw that… Yeah, far out… Totally cool."

  They climbed onto the boat and pulled off wetsuits and gear, Ariel chattering like a kid the whole time. "I can't believe this exists… It's like another universe… Forests and mountains and plains each with distinctive kinds of life."

  Brice lit a cigar and watched her, nodding and grinning like a wizard. Brice loved this business. So did Jake, for that matter. He'd seen people go crazy before—knew more than one who'd quit his job and bought a boat so he could dive full-time—but watching Ariel succumb to the sea was something special. Something about her really got to him. Her intensity, he guessed. Her energy and drive. She made him feel alert. She made him think, reexamine things he'd taken for granted. The light in her face right now was pure pleasure.

  On the other hand, he didn't appreciate the twinkling aha in Brice's eyes as he watched the two of them interact. So, maybe Jake had it going on for Ariel. What of it?

  While Ariel got Brice to go over a color chart of the fish in the area so she could list the ones she'd seen, Jake went below and fixed a sand dab salad for the three of them.

  They came down for Ariel's notebook, and he could hear that Brice was the one asking questions now, pondering the potential of Water Gear's expansion. The diving had relaxed Ariel and she sounded confident and competent. He grinned. He'd connected two friends and they'd both benefit. Not too bad for a day's work—and he'd gotten in a dive, too.

  Interrupting the two, who were bent over a calculator, to get them to eat, Jake caught Brice's wink of approval. The lady knows what she's doing.

  "I'm starving," Ariel said, surveying the plate of salad. "Salt water and terror must increase your appetite." She took a big bite. "Mmm, this is delicious, Jake." Ariel looked at him—the first look in a while—and he realized he'd missed her gaze.

  "Glad you like it."

  "Jake's good crew," Brice said. "He captains, he's a scuba master and he runs a great galley. A regular Jake of all trades."

  "What are you after, Brice?" Jake said. "I'm not doing any more freebie lessons. And I need advance notice when it's a big group." Now and then he wished he could book his own lessons. It was better to leave the hassle to Brice, probably, but he could see some improvements Brice should make if he'd ever take advice from anyone.

  "Nothing like that," Brice said. "I just want Ariel to know who she's dealing with here."

  "I think I'm beginning to," she said softly.

  Jake looked at her. Their gazes caught and held. Ariel stopped chewing. He felt that beat of tension, that pounding in his head. He wanted this woman. Her hair was slicked back, black as seal fur. The water had erased her makeup and her skin was flush with sun—in fact she had a little bum going. He should get sunscreen on her. She looked right on a boat. God, he wanted her.

  "I said, pass the salad." Brice's words came faintly to him and he realized that wasn't the first time the man had made the request. He didn't remember ever wanting a woman so badly he missed hearing his own name.

  Something was going on here. He reminded himself that Ariel wasn't the kind of woman who just had sex. She went into things for keeps. So why didn't that scare him?

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  «^»

  "That was an amazing, absolutely perfect day," Ariel said to Jake, looking up at him as they walked along the beach. They'd gone on a second dive, then returned to Water Gear so she and Brice could go over more details. Now they were walking along the beach. It was sunset and entirely too romantic, but Ariel was too happy to care. "I think I can really do something with Brice… And the scuba … wow. It was heaven … really magical. That's probably cliché, but it's so true. I had no idea all that incredible life was under there. I thought it would be scary, but it was beautiful and natural. And … wow … just wow."

  "Now you know."

  "Yeah, now I know." She sighed, then took the fish chart Brice had given her from her beach bag. She'd marked off the creatures she'd seen with a wax pencil. "And I'm halfway through this chart."

  "You're supposed to enjoy the experience, not collect it. Give me that." He took the chart away from her.

  "That's how I remember things—by writing them down. Give it back."

  "Remember it here," he said, tapping her forehead, "and here," softly touching her chest just above her cleavage. "In your heart."

  "I do," she said softly. "It is in my heart." Their eyes met. Jake had shown her the wonders underwater and now he was grinning at her, happy that he'd made her happy, and she felt so good being with him. "But I want to record it, too. That's who I am." She reached to take the card from his hand, their arms brushing. They were practically dancing.

  "Then come and get it." He darted away from her and into the evening tide, kicking up sand as his toes dug into the wet beach.

  "You rat!" she said, dropping her bag and running after him. The wet sand was cold, but she hardly noticed. Her internal heater was keeping her warm, burning with the desire to be near Jake. She ran after him, heedless of everything but the man in her sights, so that she didn't see the wave. When it h
it she went down—fwap—onto the sand, laughing. When the wave receded, she found Jake lying beside her.

  "You okay?" he asked, leaning over her, braced on an elbow, sand streaking his face.

  "Fine," she said, aware that she'd just been assaulted by all she hated about the beach, but she didn't mind one bit. The delight of lying near Jake masked anything unpleasant. "More than fine." She brushed the sand from Jake's cheek, enjoying the firm muscle and solid bone beneath her fingers. The retreating wave tugged the sand from under her, making her feel unsteady, a little unsafe—a feeling that intensified as she looked up into Jake's warm eyes, blue as the sky and the sea.

  "Here." Jake handed her the fish chart, now wet and sandy. "I haven't been such a bad roommate, have I?" He pushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

  "No. Except for the noise and the mess and the confusion—and not remembering to give me messages."

  "Yeah, but what about the food?"

  "The food's been great."

  "You'll miss me when I'm gone."

  She looked into his blue eyes. The sunset made them glint with gold. Water rushed under their bodies, further eroding the ground, tickling her, warning her, but she couldn't look away from Jake's face. "So don't," she said softly, looking at Jake, her visiting sea god, his eyes full of affection and promise in the dull-gold dusk light.

  "Don't what?"

  "Don't move out."

  "I hoped you'd say that." And then his lips met hers and his arms convulsed around her from under the sand and the kiss was perfect—warmer and stronger and deeper than the first.

  She knew this was a bad idea, but surely she could enjoy this kiss—the bookend to the fabulous day. A kiss to celebrate the excitement of diving and winning a client and the glory of this perfect man holding her. It was a From Here to Eternity moment, with the waves lapping romantically at them and Jake's mouth on hers, his fingers in her hair, turning her face so he could taste more of her, moving over her. She could have this moment, couldn't she?