ROOM...BUT NOT BORED

by Dawn Atkins

  Then the mother of all waves slammed down on them, churning everything, forcing sand into her eyes, water up her nose. She rolled to the side to escape and sand scraped her sunburned back like sandpaper on raw skin.

  She coughed and choked, pushing up from the punishing sand. The pain put a sharp end to the dreamy moment she might have let drag on to a dangerous end. "That was bad," she said, coughing, salt stinging her eyes and burning inside her nose.

  "Just a wave," he said, reaching for her.

  "That's not what I mean," she said. "We can't do this."

  "Sure we can. I can't stop wanting you. At night it's all I can do to keep from busting through that stupid curtain to grab you. Tell me you don't feel the same."

  His words made her heart sing, but the sting of her back and the burn of saltwater in her nose kept her sane. "I do feel that way, but—"

  "Then why fight it?"

  "Because I'm different from you. I don't just jump into bed." She'd been tempted to lose herself in a man who was just a seashell's toss away from dozens of women he'd had From Here to Eternity moments with. And Ariel would not be just one more.

  She pulled away from his hands and pushed herself to her feet. "I've got to go in. I'm sorry." She bent to get her fish chart and ran, stopping to nab her beach bag. When Jake didn't follow her she felt both relieved and disappointed.

  She dashed into the bathroom, rinsed quickly in the shower, then grabbed a towel and lotion for her sunburn before she darted into her room to hide. She'd forgo her bedtime cleaning and brushing rituals tonight. She rubbed lotion gently onto her burned skin, then lay down on the bed, still sandy and very sad. She was naked—hadn't even put on her pink nightgown—and didn't want to think about why. She ached all over for Jake—a way worse pain than her sunburn.

  She heard him enter the house and her whole body perked with anticipation. Would he toss away the drop cloth like he'd said he wanted to? He couldn't. Shouldn't. She wished desperately that flimsy barrier were an armor-plated wall. Something suitable for a nuclear plant. Impenetrable, unblastable. Safe. She remembered with dismay that she'd told him not to move out. That meant the only protection she had from Jake was their good sense and self-restraint. That should be enough. All the same, tomorrow she'd ask him to fix the wall.

  * * *

  Jack stood in the living room and slowed his breathing. He could practically hear Ariel's heartbeat in the little house, sense her breath coming and going in harsh bursts. That wave hadn't doused the heat between them one bit.

  And it was more than heat, Jake realized. Kissing her there in the surf, holding her in his arms had made him feel so happy … and so lost. Like a new surfer when the first wave slammed you into the sand, churning everything like a washing machine so you weren't sure which way was up for air.

  What if he was in love with her? The idea had startled him, but when she broke away, he realized she was right. She was so different from him, so damn serious about every little thing. He wondered if she was wearing that pink monstrosity of a nightgown. Kind of sexy in a repressed virginal way…

  Let it go. Move on. He could fall in love, all right, but it wouldn't last. And with a woman like Ariel love was way too risky. He couldn't bear to put pain in those wide and earnest eyes.

  He knew how to let go. Spent his youth training for it, thanks to the Admiral. Belay that, sailor, he'd bark when Jake launched a last-ditch plea to stay with friends until the school year ended. Load your duffel, son, we move out at o-nine hundred.

  Now, he valued that ability to pack light, stay on the balls of his feet. So it was good that Ariel was sensible. He'd keep helping her, though—take her diving again, maybe teach her to sailboard—and give her all the business leads he could. He'd just stay clear of the rest.

  He forced himself to pick up the stack of mail on the table. A couple bills he could delay paying, some advertisements and an invitation to a reception at the marina. Hmm…

  * * *

  Ariel was still staring at the drop cloth when it whipped open and Jake stood there. He'd come after her. Her throat closed shut to keep her heart from jumping right out. She felt torn in two—half of her moaning thank God; the rest crying No, God, no.

  "I have an idea," he said softly.

  Me, too.

  "A business guy I know is throwing a cocktail reception on his yacht," he continued.

  What? She'd thought he'd come to make love to her and he was talking about a party? She shook her head, made out a white card he was tapping against his palm.

  "It's a great chance for, you to make business contacts," Jake said. "Lots of rich corporate types with boating habits. Will you come with me? It's Sunday afternoon."

  She had to clear her throat to speak, even though her heart had flopped back down where it belonged in her chest. "Sure. That would be great. Thanks for thinking of me."

  "I'm always thinking of you," he said softly.

  "Oh." Her heart swelled. "Me, too. Of you, I mean."

  "Do you think I should move out? Are things too … much … now?"

  "No," she blurted, knowing she'd said that for all the wrong reasons. "We can handle this. We're adults." Right.

  "If you're sure," he said.

  "I'm sure," she lied.

  "Okay, then. Get some sleep," he said, then he added more seriously than she'd ever heard him, "You're right about us. It would get complicated."

  She only nodded. After that she lay awake, afraid she'd feel the impulse to go to Jake's bed. Before she could do anything stupid, though, she heard Jake banging away at something at the other end of the house. He was working again. She had half a mind to join him, since she doubted she'd sleep a wink the rest of the night.

  * * *

  Ariel dragged herself out of bed the next morning at seven, exhausted from barely sleeping, and staggered into the kitchen to find Jake whistling over a mug of coffee. How did he manage to survive so cheerfully on so little sleep? She saw that the kitchen sink was in place.

  "You put in the sink," she said.

  "I thought since your mother was coming I should get the kitchen in shape," he said.

  "Thank you," she said, amazed that he'd remembered. He had such a yeah, right, whatever approach to the world, she was always surprised at how much attention he paid to things. The previous day's events had almost made her forget about her mother's visit.

  "Bad night?" Jake asked.

  She nodded and the movement seemed to make her brain slosh.

  "Me, too," he said. They stood there, close together, neither seeming to know what to do with their hands or eyes.

  "Sit," Jake said finally, pulling out a chair. "I'll get you coffee and food."

  "Don't be so nice to me, Jake," she said shakily.

  "I'm a saint, what can I say?" he said, putting down the steaming mug of what she could tell was a special mocha-cinnamon blend he'd been playing with.

  She breathed in the steam, pulled in the glorious aroma and felt a little better. The microwave dinged and Jake pulled out a plate of frittata and placed it before her. It smelled great, but she couldn't take a bite. Her stomach was knotted tight and her appetite was shot.

  "You have to keep your strength up if you plan on resisting me," he joked.

  She managed a wan smile and took a bite.

  "I'm taking off," Jake said. "I need the burnt umber you want for the bathroom and I have to check out some gear for Brice. I'll be back in time to meet your mother."

  "You don't need to be here," she said, not sure she wanted her mother to pick up the vibe between them. She was sure Deirdre Adams would not approve of Jake. And when she caught Ariel making moon eyes … she'd be so disappointed.

  "Come on. I have to meet the woman who's more serious than you. See you. I'll bring back beer."

  "My mother's not a big drinker."

  "It's the beach, sweetheart. Salt air. Gotta have beer."

  "Okay," she said, waving at him. Afterward, she realized how eerily domestic th
is had been. Jake had fixed the sink, prepared her breakfast, even told her his plans and promised to return to meet her mother—bearing refreshments, no less. Extremely appealing … and very confusing. Ariel put her head in her hands.

  What would her mother think of the beach house? It was only moderately better than when Ariel'd arrived. The kitchen floor and sink were in, but color tests of yellow, cornflower and pumpkin were smeared like bad graffiti on the walls. The living room and her office were nearly normal—except for more bikes Jake intended to repair and one of his damnable surfboards. The wall between the bedrooms was still down, the outside of the cottage was half painted, and there were construction items, ladders and sawhorses scattered like glacial effluvia in the sand. So much for "getting it in writing," as her mother had suggested.

  But Ariel did have her first client—Water Gear—and the Sunday reception would give her valuable contacts. That cheered her up and cleared her head. The amazing coffee helped, too.

  Deciding to maximize the two hours before her mother arrived, Ariel dug into her plan for Brice, but she'd barely gotten started when someone banged on the door.

  Three teenage girls stood on the front porch, tentative smiles on their faces. "Hi. Is, um, Jake home?" One said. Ariel recognized her as Jake's sister.

  "Not at the moment. You must be Penny."

  "He told you about me? That's great." She shot her friends an I-told-you-so. "And you're Ariel, right?"

  "He told you about me?"

  "Um, yeah." Penny blushed. What exactly had Jake said? Her own face warmed.

  "So, we got a ride out here," Penny said, "and I, uh, wanted to show my friends Jake's place—your place, I mean—and see it for myself, since I haven't yet been out here and all…"

  "I'm not sure when Jake will return…"

  "Oh, gee…" Penny looked uncertainly at the other girls.

  "Why don't you come in and wait," Ariel said. With work to do and her mother on the way, the last thing she needed was a crowd, but how could she turn the girls away? "Can I get you some iced tea or a soda?"

  "How about daiquiris?" one of the girls said.

  "Sheila!" Penny said with a frown of disapproval. Then she brightened. "Actually, I could make virgin ones. Jake showed me a great recipe. Do you mind?" she asked Ariel.

  "No. That would be fine," she said, feeling gently rail-roaded.

  "Terrific," Penny said and led the two girls inside. "This place looks great." Her gaze roamed the living room.

  "It's getting there," Ariel said. "The kitchen's this way. You girls can make yourselves comfortable," she said to the other two girls, who were already heading for the stereo.

  In the kitchen, Penny looked out the window on the kitchen door. "A sleeping porch … wow," she said. "We could have easily crashed here."

  "Crashed?" Ariel asked her, standing with the blender in her hand.

  "Jake said it would be too crowded. I was going to come out and spend the weekend a while back, but Jake nixed it when you showed up. We're staying somewhere else, though, so you don't have to worry about us or anything."

  "Oh, good," she said, keeping the irony out of her voice. "What else do you need for these daiquiris?"

  Penny rattled off the ingredients and the two of them were soon working elbow to elbow in the small kitchen. In the living room the girls had to shout at each other over the volume of the music they were playing.

  Penny forgot the blender lid on the first batch, so Ariel took over while Penny wiped iced strawberry splotches off the cupboards and freshly tiled floor. Grrr.

  "So, what do you think of Jake?" Penny asked her, sponging off Ariel's white clam-diggers. "Club soda should keep that from staining."

  "I'll try that." Lord. "Jake is very … nice."

  "And cute, too, don't you think?" Penny stood and dabbed at Ariel's blouse.

  "He's good-looking. Sure. I'll handle that." She took away the cloth, which was having no effect on the pink stain, then bent to find a serving tray.

  When she stood, Penny was looking at her intently. "I know he acts all easy and cool and whatever," she said, accepting the tray, "but he's really deep. You've noticed that, right?"

  "I imagine so," Ariel said, excruciatingly uncomfortable at the way Penny's blue eyes dug in and poked around just the way Jake's always did, so she changed the subject. "What I have noticed is how fond he is of you."

  "Fond! He's obsessed!" Penny clanged the tray onto the counter. "And bossy as hell."

  Pleased to have diverted the girl, Ariel didn't even ask her not to swear. She just poured the frosty pink drinks into mason jars and set them on the tray.

  "He's always telling me what to do," Penny continued. "Live your life, go out. Don't let the parents lock you in the tower. Blah-de-blah. He doesn't realize that I'm, like, an adult."

  "That's a big brother for you."

  "You mean Big Brother," she said, making finger quote marks, "as in black helicopters and listening bugs in the bathroom." She flounced off with her tray of virgin daiquiris.

  Ariel smiled. She liked the girl, for all her pushiness. She was sweet and energetic and she clearly loved her brother.

  After that, Ariel found herself making nachos and two kinds of dip while Penny mixed up some brownies. She felt like she'd been dropped into a surprise party—only the surprise was on the party host. She thought about all the work she had to do, then remembered the day she'd missed out on the sand castle. She'd just try to go with this, find the fun where it lay.

  She'd put the nachos in the oven when the front door banged opened and a dog barked. "What the hell?" Jake's voice. And Lucky, no doubt. The girls squealed and exclaimed over the dog.

  "Pen? What are you doing here?" Jake stood at the entrance to the kitchen.

  Penny dropped the beater and ran to hug him. "We had a free weekend and since Cindy was in town, Sheila and me thought we'd just stop by."

  "You could have called first. I'm sorry, Ariel," Jake said, surveying the mess in the kitchen. He reached up and wiped a blob of strawberry off the molding of one cupboard.

  "It's fine," she said, almost believing it.

  "What are you up to, Pen?" he said, shooting her a look.

  "We're staying with Cindy's cousin. He goes to UCLA and he has an apartment."

  "You're staying with a college guy. Unsupervised? Absolutely not."

  "I know what I'm doing. You always say, 'go explore.'"

  "Explore life and places, not horn dog college guys." Jake glared at her like a displeased parent. It was fun to see Mr. Laid-Back go all uptight.

  Penny folded her arms stubbornly.

  Ariel sighed. She knew how to fix this. "Why don't the girls stay here? They can sleep on the sunporch."

  "Really?" Penny asked her. "You wouldn't mind?"

  "No. Like you said, there's plenty of room."

  "See. I told you she'd be cool about it," Penny said to Jake.

  "You told her I would object?" Ariel said to Jake, who looked sheepish.

  "Oh, yeah," Penny added. "He said you wanted to kick his ass out of here."

  "Oh, really?" she said, shooting Jake a look.

  "I didn't say that … exactly. Are you sure it's okay, Ariel? Because I can get the girls a hotel room…"

  "No, no. It'll be fun to have them."

  "And they won't be any trouble," he said, then turned to Penny. "Will you?"

  "Absolutely not." Penny crossed her heart. "We'll be, like, quiet as mice."

  There was another knock at the door. "Oh, Sheila invited a couple of guys for the beach part," Penny said quickly. They heard Sheila greet the new arrivals—boom-voiced young men.

  "Penny…" Jake warned, but she'd rushed to the living room. "I'm sorry," he said to Ariel.

  "It's really all right." She smiled, pleased to notice that it was. She was having fun, too. And hardly worrying at all. "Why don't you finish Penny's brownies? I'm doing nachos."

  "Don't you have work to do?"

  "Yes," she sig
hed, "but I'm trying to go with the tides this time—you know, your philosopher's ebb and flow?"

  Jake chuckled softly. "Come here," he said and pulled her close. He wet a thumb and brushed it along her cheekbone. "Got some war paint," he said, looking into her eyes. It got easier and easier to slip into this intimacy with him.

  She smelled something burning. Her nerves? No, corn chips. She rushed to open the oven. Black smoke billowed out and she used a towel to remove the tray of blackened cheese and chips, which she dumped into the trash.

  While she scraped the tray clean, Jake grated more cheese. The kids in the other room yelled to each other over the music.

  "God, they're loud," Jake said, shaking his head. "You sure you're okay with this?"

  "I like Penny," Ariel said, setting the scraped tray where Jake could pour fresh chips onto it. "She goes for what she wants—in a nice way. She thinks you obsess about her, by the way."

  "I look out for her," Jake corrected, sprinkling grated cheese onto the chips.

  "But you don't realize she's, like, um, an adult," she said, imitating Penny.

  "God." He grinned. "She's a trip, huh?"

  "She does all right for herself. She finagled a weekend at the beach house despite your mean old roommate."

  "Clever girl." His face looked serious then. "I don't want her to struggle and suffer because of what happened with me."

  "She doesn't seem to be suffering." She sprinkled green chiles onto the chips, enjoying working with Jake in the smoke-misted kitchen, the smell of burnt corn reminding her of October popcorn and cozy fall nights.

  "I'm making sure," he said, helping her with the chiles. He paused, then spoke, not looking at her, "I'm sending her on a trip to Europe—a study abroad program."

  "Really?" She stopped sprinkling to look at him.

  He glanced at her, then back down, as if he'd regretted the confession. "It's a surprise for after graduation. That's what this construction job is for—to fund the trip."

  "What a nice thing to do," she said.

  He shrugged like it was no big deal.

  "It's unusual, though," she added.

  "And if the Admiral gives her a bit of trouble about going, I'll be in his face." Jake slid the new batch of nachos into the oven and returned to the bowl of brownie batter.