by V. K. Sykes
Morgan tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “You really think he’ll honor the bet once you tell him what you want? He could just up and leave. There’s nothing holding him here.”
Lily’s instincts denied that. “Aiden will make good on the bet.”
He was that kind of guy when she fell in love with him all those years ago, and she refused to think he was anything less now. Still, she supposed it could just be wishful thinking on her part. What did she truly know about him now and about the life he’d led since leaving the island?
“What if we lose?” Morgan said. “Roy might have worked some magic with that old beater. We’ve all seen what he can do with golf carts and outboards.”
Lily scoffed. “Sure, he’s a genius with the little stuff, but when it comes to big diesels, his record is sketchier. And I’m not sure poor old Irish Lady is going to be quite up to Roy’s brand of creative fixes.”
Morgan’s eyes started to dance with laughter. “Maybe not.”
“In my memory, Aiden only knows one way to play,” Lily said. “Flat out. Pedal to the metal. It might be more than Irish Lady’s engine can take.”
Morgan nodded. “Go big or go home.”
“Exactly, and this time, let’s hope it’s go big and go home,” Lily said, “because I don’t want to have to find out what Aiden has in store for me if I lose this wager.” Especially if what she suspected he wanted turned out to be true. Lily’s defenses against him were already on very sandy soil, and a full-out seductive assault on his part might well bring them tumbling down.
With a bright smile fixed in place, Lily turned to wave to Aiden as he maneuvered his boat to a rocking standstill a few feet from hers. Bram tossed a trio of white boat fenders over the gunwale for protection in case the boats drifted too close and bumped.
“Hi, guys,” Morgan called over the idling motors. “Ready to race?”
“Totally, and you’d better get ready to bounce around in our wake,” Aiden replied with a teasing grin. Lily was relieved to see a genuine smile on his face. As high as the stakes were, she did want him to get some pleasure out of the beautiful day.
“Hold real tight onto something, Morgan,” he added, “because you’re going to be rocking and rolling.”
Lily laughed. “Actually, she’ll need a free hand to wave at you two as you fade into the distance behind us.”
Aiden glanced up at her mast and let out a surprised laugh. “Is that flag supposed to intimidate people?”
For the race, Lily had hoisted a skull-and-crossbones pirate flag on her mast instead of her usual Stars and Stripes. “Aye, matey, because my Miss Annie always takes the booty and never takes prisoners.”
Aiden grinned. “Booty, huh?”
As Lily rolled her eyes, the starter boat tooted its horn twice to let the entrants in the next race know it was time to line up at the start buoy.
“Good luck, guys,” she said, pushing her throttle forward. “We’ll see you after the race—if you’re not too depressed to stick around.”
“Can’t wait,” Aiden shouted over the rumble of the big engines.
Four boats had entered their diesel class, one less than last year when Lily won. Besides Miss Annie and Irish Lady, there was Foolish Pride with Boone Cleary at the helm of his father’s boat, as well as a boat from the mainland that Lily had never seen before—Miss Fortune. It was a cheeky name that Lily, always borderline superstitious, thought might be tempting fate a little too much.
She lined up her boat more or less in the center of the course, parallel to the thirty-foot starter craft. Aiden brought Irish Lady next to her on her starboard side, and Cleary slid Foolish Pride in between Aiden and the starter boat. Finally, the mainland boat, freshly painted in brilliant white and fire engine red, motored behind Lily and took up its position on her port side. Lily just prayed the newcomer didn’t blast past her to the front. She had every expectation that with Roy’s tuned engine, Aiden would be plenty fast off the line, and she sure didn’t want to get caught in two strong wakes.
Moving slowly, the four boats formed a line, and the skippers watched for the go signal. When a race crewmember on the starter boat judged that no boat was pushing itself ahead of the pack, he dropped his flag with a dramatic flourish.
When Lily pushed her throttle forward, Miss Annie’s diesel rumbled up to a roar.
“Woo-hoo!” Morgan yelled at Aiden and Bram. “See you dudes later!”
Her bow rising as she quickly built speed, Miss Annie poked ahead of Miss Fortune and Irish Lady. Lily gripped the wheel hard and kept her eyes focused on a point on the horizon so she’d run a true course, not veering into either of the neighboring boat’s paths. She’d rely on Morgan to tell her what the other racers were doing.
“We’ve got a length on Miss Fortune already, and we’re half a length up on Aiden,” Morgan called out over the din of four straining diesels. “I think Boone might be out of it already.”
Lily fought the urge to glance back over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of Aiden. Stick to business, Lily. Win this thing.
There wasn’t too much chop in the channel, but even still, their flat-out speed made for a jarring ride. Lily was glad she didn’t have to contend with another boat’s wake too. Not yet, anyway. Aiden, on the other hand, had to deal with hers.
They’d already passed the halfway marker. In the lead, Miss Annie’s diesel hummed, and her hull cut easily through the waves like the champ she was. But out of the corner of her left eye, Lily saw Miss Fortune cutting into her lead.
“Aiden’s nearly even with us!” Morgan yelled.
Lily took a quick look to her right. Morgan hadn’t exaggerated. Irish Lady was right beside Miss Annie, and there was nothing she could do about it—her boat was already at full throttle.
This cannot happen.
Lily started sweating, all her muscles tensing up. All she could do was watch as Aiden, looking totally commanding and in control, powered his boat past hers and into the lead. Miss Fortune was hanging in there too, if not closing the gap a little.
“Look at that asshat Bram,” Morgan yelled in a frustrated tone.
Lily cut a glance to see Bram wave at them as he did some stupid, little dance steps. “Just ignore him. This isn’t over yet.”
Irish Lady’s stern cleared Lily’s bow and took a lead of more than a length. But it only lasted seconds before Lily heard something loud—some sort of horrible choking sound—ahead of her, and Irish Lady slowed like she was trying to cut through sand. In little more than a heartbeat, Miss Annie had shot past Aiden’s boat, obviously now powered only by momentum.
Though Lily had half-expected something like that to happen, it was still a shock. She’d tried to catch Aiden’s eye as she passed but his head was down, fixed on his controls.
“His engine’s shut down,” Morgan shouted, stating the obvious. “But forget Aiden, Lily. Miss Fortune’s right with us now.”
Had the mainland boat been keeping something in reserve for the final few hundred yards? The finish buoy was so close, but it seemed to Lily like it was a mile away. There was nothing more she could do but hope. Miss Annie was topping thirty miles an hour, a touch faster than she’d ever run in a race. The sweet girl didn’t want to be beaten any more than Lily did, and Josh Bryson had obviously done a great job of getting her ready.
But Miss Fortune took matters into her own hands within seconds of the finish line buoy, powering smoothly past to win by a boat length.
“Ah, hell,” Morgan moaned as Lily powered down. She put her hand on Lily’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.
“Don’t worry about it,” Lily said. “It’s no big deal. The better boat won today.”
Right now, she didn’t give a hoot about the trophy or the bragging rights that went along with winning the race class. All she could think about was Irish Lady and her captain and the humiliation Aiden had to be suffering right now. She swung Miss Annie around in a tight circle, her heart aching fo
r him. Yes, she’d wanted to beat him, but not like this.
“What are you doing?” Morgan asked as Lily steered back down the course.
“I’m going to give Aiden a tow.”
Her friend gave her a puzzled look. “I thought the race officials have a boat on standby to do that.”
Lily shook her head. “In the big race venues they do. But not here. In Seashell Bay, neighbors help each other out. Remember?”
Morgan had been on the mainland for such a long time that she occasionally forgot some of the island ways. Her pal wrinkled her nose in acknowledgment. “Right. Of course, I feel bad for Aiden, but at least you won the bet.”
At the moment, Lily wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. Now that it had become real, she suddenly had a horrible attack of nerves. On top of his ignominious defeat, she would now be asking him to do something she knew he would loathe. Her stomach did a few somersaults at the idea that he might think her a total bitch to even ask.
She made another 180-degree turn as she approached Irish Lady, lining up in front of Aiden and then reversing until her stern was a few feet from the other boat’s bobbing bow. Aiden had obviously figured out what she was going to do since both he and Bram clambered around to the bow, ready to receive the tow ropes.
Since Lily hadn’t towed anybody for years, her nerves jittered a bit at the thought of damaging either Miss Annie or Irish Lady, or both. Towing was a dangerous business. Lobster boat hulls weren’t designed for it, and the engines didn’t produce the kind of torque ideal for pulling something of equal weight. But she’d be damned if she was going to let somebody else with a bigger boat step into the breach instead. She was fully responsible for this situation. If she hadn’t concocted the bet, Irish Lady wouldn’t be stranded in the channel, and Aiden and his father wouldn’t be facing a potentially huge repair bill.
Maybe she should forget all about the bet. Hadn’t she done enough damage already?
“Hey, thanks for the help, ladies,” Aiden said as Lily pulled two coils of rope from a compartment in the stern.
Lily peered anxiously at him as she hurled one rope across the narrow gap between the boats. “I’m really sorry, Aiden.”
He caught the rope in his big, capable hand. “Thanks. For about a minute there, I really thought we had you beat.”
“You almost did,” Lily said as she tossed the second rope at Bram, who was glowering and muttering under his breath. “Your old girl showed some real spunk, and you handled her beautifully.”
Aiden cut her a rueful grin as he started to secure his line to one of the forward cleats. “Thanks, but it wasn’t exactly a great feat of seamanship. Anyway, did you beat the other guy?”
“Sadly, no.” Lily could hardly believe how unfazed Aiden was by the calamity that had struck his boat or by his loss in the bet. Where she’d feared possible anger and recriminations, he was giving her nothing but smiles and concern for whether she’d won or lost.
She started to tie off her ends of the ropes to cleats on Miss Annie’s stern rail.
Aiden came up from his crouch, bracing himself against the gentle swells rocking their boats. “So, are you going to tell me what I have to do for you now or do you want to keep me in suspense?”
His smile was easy and assured, but Lily thought his dark eyes reflected some concern too.
While she didn’t want to play coy with Aiden, there was no way she was going to have this discussion by exchanging shouts between boats, nor did she intend to have it in front of Morgan and Bram or anyone else.
“Could we talk about that tonight at the festival social?” Lily said in voice she hoped would reflect more confidence than she felt. “I presume you’re going to be there?”
Aiden’s eyes widened, as if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. Maybe he didn’t even know about the big party and dance at the VFW Hall that had marked the end of the Blueberry Festival every year for the past decade. She suspected Bram might not have mentioned it, because she couldn’t remember the last time Aiden’s brother or father had shown up at the social.
Aiden didn’t respond for a few moments, simply staring at her with a slightly puzzled look. But then he shot her a crooked grin. “I guess I am now, Lily. In fact, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Chapter 10
The evening peace was shattered by a squeal of brakes and then a crunch of loose gravel. Aiden knew who had just pulled up and didn’t bother getting up from his seat on the porch.
“Hi, Dad,” he said when Sean Flynn stomped around from the driveway.
“I want to talk to you, but I need a drink first,” his father grumbled by way of greeting.
Because the old man could never have a conversation without being well lubricated, it seemed. “I’m not going anywhere,” Aiden replied, as his dad headed inside.
He shifted in the uncomfortable deck chair, regretting that he hadn’t left for the Blueberry Festival social before his father rolled up. Hell, maybe he should just split now. He couldn’t wait to see Lily, and not just because he’d finally learn what prize she would claim for beating him in the race.
Still, leaving now would just piss off the old man even more, and that made no sense. The guy hadn’t just dropped by to shoot the breeze. Not unless he’d had a personality transplant.
“Your sack-of-shit brother is asleep,” Sean growled as he kneed the door open, a glass in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. “Tell me how I managed to get such slapped asses for sons.” He set his glass on the flat, narrow railing and sucked hard on the cigarette before flopping down onto the other chair.
“Maybe we picked it up from you,” Aiden said. “You know, Dad, for a guy who wants my support on his precious land deal, you’ve got a funny way of showing it.”
“Don’t give me that crap. You’re a Flynn, just like me, so you’ll do whatever the hell you want whether I kiss your ass or not. Don’t expect me to get warm and fuzzy with you all of a sudden. I’m not a hypocrite, and I’m not your sainted mother.”
Aiden snorted. “That’s for damn sure. But you are wrong about one thing—I’m nothing like you.” At least he hoped to God he wasn’t.
His father waved a hand, sending even more smoke wafting in Aiden’s direction. He’d always hated the acrid sting of cigarette smoke, even as a little kid.
“At least you boys didn’t turn out to be weak little pussies,” the old man replied in a smug tone. “You can thank me for that, not Rebecca.”
That brought Aiden to his feet in a rush. “Don’t ever talk about Mom like that, you hear me?” he snapped, looming over his father.
He hated the way the old man had treated his mother, always so sharp-tongued and critical. Why Rebecca Flynn had stayed loyal to her husband was one of the mysteries of the universe, as far as Aiden was concerned. “Just say whatever it is you came over to say. I’m heading down to the dance in about two minutes.”
His father peered up at him, looking oddly disconcerted. Then he seemed to shrug it off. “What the hell happened out there today, anyway? Roy said that engine was purring like a damn kitten this morning.”
Aiden struggled to dial back his anger. “It was. And in the race, everything was going fine until it blew. Maybe Irish Lady just wasn’t up to it. Roy probably tried to get more out of that old diesel than he should. Our fault, right?”
“Can’t blame Roy for giving it a shot.” Sean slugged back a drink. “Shit happens. It’s just too bad you had to lose to a damn Doyle.”
“It’s not a problem, Dad.”
His father waved his cigarette. “We’ve got a hell of a lot bigger things to worry about.”
Aiden moved away from him, staring out at the calm sea, dreading what was coming next.
“Look, Aiden,” Sean said, “you need to get serious about the future of this family.” His face was already going red, his eyes bloodshot and full of anger.
“Go on, I’m listening,” Aiden said.
His father swigged his glass d
ry and then slammed it down on the rail. “I just don’t get why you’re screwing around instead of getting on with making a decision. It doesn’t make any damn sense. Bram says he’s explained everything to you six ways from Sunday, and you’ve seen the plans. What the hell else do you need to get your ass in gear?”
Aiden had already heard enough. He leaned against the rail, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think the only thing I’ve got on my mind right now is your land deal? Well, my baseball career might be about to circle the drain, so excuse me if I’m not 100 percent focused on your dreams and your timetable.”
Sean lumbered to his feet too, visibly wincing. It was another indication that the heavy smoking and drinking, combined with a hard working life, had aged his father beyond his years.
“My dreams? Dammit, this isn’t about dreams. It’s about our future—your brother’s and mine. We’ve only got one asset left, and we’ve got to take advantage of it—right now, while we’ve got a good deal on the table.”
“You think I don’t know all that?” Aiden said. It was bad enough having to be responsible for Bram, but as much as he hated the idea, he knew the old man needed him too.
“Then what’s the problem? Just do your duty to the family. And it’s not like there’s nothing in it for you. Hell, you’ll make a real nice chunk of change from the sale. I figure since the Phillies cut you loose, you might need it.” He finished with a trace of a sneer.
“Good old Dad,” Aiden said bitterly. “Always so supportive.”
Sean snorted. “Oh, suck it up. You had a pretty good run—hell, when you get right down to it, you did better than I thought you ever would.”
“That doesn’t say a hell of a lot, since you never thought I’d make it in the majors. But hey, you didn’t know shit back then, and you still don’t know shit now.”
Sean tossed his cigarette butt all the way to the rocky slope below, then poked his finger into Aiden’s chest. “What I know is that Bram and me are screwed unless you get your head out of your ass and sign onto this deal.”