Barefoot and Pregnant?

by Colleen Faulkner

  Delighted, she waved back. He didn’t act like a man who just wanted to talk about real estate.

  Zane pulled the truck around and began to back the boat down the ramp into the water. Elise grabbed her cell phone and her purse, but as she locked the door, she hesitated. What did she need her purse for? They would be out in the bay. She popped her trunk with her key fob and tossed her purse in. She hesitated with the phone. She never went anywhere without the phone. What if her boss needed her? Or a client? “You don’t need it,” Zane hollered across the parking lot, seeming to know just what she was thinking. “Ringing phones scare away the crabs!”

  She looked at him suspiciously. She knew nothing about crabbing. “They do?”

  “They scare me away.” He grinned again.

  “What the heck. Live on the wild side,” Elise muttered to herself. There had been nothing in the book about that. In fact, it had suggested a woman needed to find a man who would fit into her comfort zone. She tossed the phone into the trunk and tucked her keys into her jean shorts pocket.

  “What can I do to help?” She crossed the parking lot.

  He climbed into the boat, using the trailer’s wheel well as a step. “Grab the cooler out of the back of the truck—the canvas bag, too.”

  At the rear of the truck, she peered over the side. There were two burlap bags of some sort of feed, a large bag that read Oyster Shells on the side, a cooler, a canvas tote bag and lots of loose straw. She picked up the blue cooler and the bag and carried them to the side of the boat.

  “Once I get her in the water, I’ll need you to hold the mooring line while I park the truck.”

  She handed up the cooler and the bag. “You sure this thing is seaworthy?” She lifted an eyebrow as she studied the boat.

  The boat was about twenty-two feet long, white with a wood interior that was definitely not teak. Plywood? There were no holes in its hull, but the boat had obviously been used for many years. Elise had never been in a little motorboat before, just big sailboats, and a few yachts in her days in Texas.

  Zane slapped the side of the boat. “Old Betsy’s seaworthy all right and she knows where the crabs hide.”

  “Betsy?”

  “The boat was my dad’s. Named after some old girlfriend, or something.”

  He jumped out of the boat to the ground and wiped his hands on the back pockets of a pair of old khaki shorts. “Okay, now I’m going to lower her in. See that line on the bow?”

  He walked to the front of the boat and began to crank on a turn handle. Elise spotted the rope, but she was nervous about the idea of holding the boat on her own. The boats she had been on before had deckhands for this kind of stuff.

  “Just grab it,” he instructed.

  He gave a wave when she didn’t hop to it right away. The boat was halfway off the trailer and easing into the water. “It won’t really be heavy. She’ll swing around along the dock there. You just have to hold her a sec.”

  Elise reached up and grabbed the rope, determined to be a good sport.

  He continued to crank on the winch, the muscles of his upper arms flexing as he turned the handle. Nice biceps. Through his thin navy T-shirt she could see he had nice pecs, too.

  The bow of the boat hit the water with a splash and Elise tightened her grip on the mooring line. Zane balanced on one of the metal supports of the trailer and walked out to the end to unhook the winch line from the bow. “Be right back.”

  He parked the truck and trailer and was at her side in no time, taking the line. “Jump in and we’re off.”

  Elise didn’t know whether the tide was coming in or out, but the floor of the boat was a good three feet below the dock.

  He grabbed her hand. “Just step onto the cushion on the bench and you’re in.”

  His touch was warm. Powerful. It sent tingles of pleasure down her spine. Feeling silly at her reaction, she gripped Zane’s hand and stepped gingerly into the boat. This wasn’t high school. There was no need to get all weak in the knees over a simple brush of this guy’s hand. The book had warned her that these feelings would get her nowhere.

  He climbed in behind her, tossed the rope onto the bow and grabbed a net off the floor. Using the wooden handle, he pushed off from the dock.

  “You swim?” He straddled the captain’s seat in front of the steering wheel.

  Elise took a bench seat that ran along the side of the boat. “Swim team in high school. State champ in the butterfly.”

  “Okay, so you swim better than I do.” He grinned. “Anyway, there are plenty of life jackets under the bench you’re sitting on.” He turned a key and the outboard motor started to rumble. “Ready?”

  She nodded. “Ready.”

  They were soon cutting across the bay. Elise hadn’t thought she would enjoy the motorboat ride. Wind in her face, salt spray in her hair. But it was a beautiful evening. As they drove along the shore, Zane pointed out long-legged seabirds and a school of shimmering fish. Seagulls flew overhead and a blue heron soared by. The air smelled of salt water and sunshine and a kind of happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  They didn’t talk as the boat cut across the bay. The motor was too noisy and Elise was too caught up in the moment. She didn’t care if there wasn’t a place on her husband finder for a crabbing date, she was glad she had come. There was something about the simplicity of the outing, the simplicity of Zane that held her spellbound.

  After fifteen or twenty minutes Zane eased the boat near to the shore and cut the engine. He climbed up over the windshield and tossed an anchor.

  “There it is.” He pointed to the shore.

  She gazed out over the water at the property he pointed to. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that the owner might possibly want to sell. I’ve approached him several times, but he wouldn’t talk to me. He has some beef with my family over a crate of chickens or something silly like that from back in the forties. Maybe you could do something?” He looked up hopefully.

  She studied the point of land. All she could see was marsh grass that led to a pine woods. “What’s beyond there?” she asked.

  “Used to be fields, now it’s mostly overgrown meadows. My grandfather grew up on that land. His father lost it during the Depression. He used to take me out here in his boat and show it to me. I’ve always thought I’d like to buy it back for him.”

  He gave a little smile and once again she thought about how good-hearted he was. Why hadn’t there been a place on the checklist for good-hearted?

  He clapped his hands together. “So. Ready to catch some crabs?”

  “Ah, I don’t know. I really just came for the ride, you know to see which property you were talking about,” she stalled. “You can crab and I can watch.” Truthfully, she wanted to try it, but she wasn’t used to not knowing how to do something. Out here on the bay, she felt as if she was totally out of her element.

  “Cut me a break, real estate woman. It’s easy. Once you catch your first jimmy, you’ll be hooked.” He lifted the seat of the bench across from the one she was sitting on and tossed her something.

  Elise instinctively threw up both hands and caught the object. It was wet and slimy. “Ewww.” She looked at the thing in her hand wrapped with a string and some metal bolts.

  “Chicken neck,” he explained. “Bait. Blue claws love them.”

  Elise didn’t know what to do. She wanted to drop the icky thing. But suddenly she wanted to crab even more.

  “Just tie it on and drop the neck overboard. The bolts serve as weight to keep the line from swaying too much with the outgoing tide.”

  Chicken. It was just chicken. After watching him throw one of the necks over the side and grab another one, she unwound the string and leaned over the side of the boat. “You sure this is going to work? I thought people crabbed with crab pots.”

  “Lazy man’s crabbing.” He threw back his shoulders. “That’s okay if you make your living crabbing, but I’m purist.” He tossed another line over the side of the b
oat and tied the other end to a small bracket on the wall of the boat. “Want another?”

  “Nah. One’s good.” She stared at the string she had unwound in one hand, the chicken in the other. “Now how do I do this?”

  He crossed from one side of the boat to the other cautiously and sat down next to her. As he reached for her string, his bare knee brushed hers. There they were again, those tingles of pleasure.

  His gaze met hers and lingered for just a second. She knew he had felt it, too.

  He blinked and looked down. “Just tie it in a knot like this,” he explained as he did it for her.

  She watched his hands as he wrapped the string. They were nice hands. Clean. Capable.

  Sexy.

  For a second she imagined what it would be like to feel those hands caress her cheek. Elsewhere. Somehow she knew he would instinctively know just how to touch her. Maybe it was that good heart.

  “Then toss it over.”

  His words startled her, bringing her back to reality.

  He dropped it into the water, got up and went back to his seat. Which was just as well. Elise couldn’t seem to think clearly with him so close.

  She glanced into the dark water that lapped against the side of the boat. She couldn’t see a thing. “Now what?”

  “Now we wait.” He sat on the bench facing her. “We wait and we eat.” He reached for the cooler.

  Elise and Zane shared a dinner of grocery store fried chicken, deli potato salad, raw carrots and dip and grapes for dessert. Not a bad meal coming from a single man. He’d actually included a vegetable that truly was a veggie and not another carb. To drink, he’d brought along homemade iced tea in a thermos.

  Twice while they were eating they stopped to check their lines. Just as Elise was finishing her second drumstick, Zane waved to her with one hand. “Get the net.”

  Elise jumped up so quickly that she rocked the boat. “Whoa.”

  Zane grabbed her around her waist with one hand and they swayed together, hip pressed against hip. Slowly the boat grew still again.

  “You okay?” he said quietly. His mouth was inches from hers.

  And a great mouth it was. Well shaped. Sensual.

  The boat had ceased rocking, but she was feeling a little unsteady on her feet. It was his nearness. The faint scent of his cologne. It had never occurred to her that chicken farmers might wear expensive cologne.

  “I’m okay,” she said, stepping back, her gaze still locked on his.

  “Think we should get that crab?” he murmured, catching her ogling again. Fortunately, his tone was playful.

  “Umm. Sure.” Elise laughed as she passed him the net and knelt beside him on the bench to peer into the murky water. He slowly inched up the crab line, bringing the chicken neck closer to the surface. Sure enough, he had a crab.

  “I see it,” Elise said excitedly.

  Zane swung the net and scooped the blue claw crab out of the water.

  “You think I have one?” she asked, crossing to her own side of the boat. She knelt and grabbed the line, pulling it up the way she had seen Zane do it. “I’ve got one, I’ve got one,” she cried, waving her hand.

  “Want the net?” Zane dumped his crab into the bushel basket he had brought along for that purpose.

  “You do it,” she said. “I’m afraid it will get away.”

  Zane swung the net in his experienced hand and scooped up her crab.

  “I can’t believe I got one.” She pulled the neck and line out of the net. “Maybe I can get another.” As she dropped the line over the side of the boat again, she put out her hand. “I think you’re right, I’m going to need another line.”

  He laughed. “Coming up.”

  The sun was just setting over the bay as Elise and Zane motored back to the dock. She helped him bring the boat out of the water and repack everything in the bed of his truck including three quarters of a bushel of crabs.

  “I can’t believe we got so many,” she said as she helped him tighten the straps that secured the boat to the trailer.

  “Now you have to come help eat them. Crab feast tomorrow, my place at one o’clock sharp.”

  She clutched her hands. She smelled like bay water and crab. Her shorts were damp and her hair was a mess. The best part was that she didn’t care. “I…I don’t know. I usually work Saturday afternoons.”

  “You can’t catch crabs and not eat them. It’s a felony.” He stood in front of her, both hands planted on his hips. “Please tell me you eat crabs. Because if you don’t, it’s goodbye right here and now,” he teased. “I’ll take my crabs and my business elsewhere.”

  She laughed. “Okay. I am originally from Texas, but I’ve been an East Coaster for years. I eat crabs.”

  “And you pick your own?”

  She laughed again. “I pick my own. Had a college roommate who showed me how.”

  He walked her back to her car. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow. No ifs, ands, or buts. I’ll call my sister and my cousins—see if they want to come, too.”

  She leaned against the hood of her car. His family? Family gatherings terrified her. Back in Texas whenever there was a family gathering it had usually involved martinis, shouting and breaking glass. Besides, she wasn’t quite sure what was going on between them. When he called, he had made it sound like he just wanted to show her the property he was interested in buying. This was now looking more like a date every minute. And crabs at his place definitely sounded like a date…almost. She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, come on. You’ll like them,” he assured her, coming to stand right in front of her. “My sister and cousins are great. And my cousin Mattie has the sweetest little girl, Olivia. She’s only four, but she’s really smart.”

  He was grinning. She couldn’t resist smiling back.

  He put one hand on each side of her hips, leaning closer. “I’m glad you came, Ellie. I mean, I’m glad I got to show you that property.” For a man who seemed so sure of himself, he didn’t seem so sure right now and it was utterly charming.

  She couldn’t take her gaze from his. He had the most beautiful blue eyes.

  “You know,” he said. “I realize you just came out to see that property and that I didn’t actually ask you out, but—”

  She waited, almost tasting the anticipation of what he would say on the tip of her tongue.

  “But I really want to kiss you,” Zane confessed as he brushed his knuckles against her cheek, in a slow, deliberate, sexy manner.

  “But you haven’t because…?”

  “I don’t know.” He lifted one shoulder. “Chicken?”

  She laughed as much at his honesty and his play on words, considering his occupation, but his husky voice made her tremble. She had never talked about kissing before. Not like this and certainly not with a potential client. It made her throat dry, her palms damp. Her gaze shifted to his lips. “So what if a girl wants to be kissed?” she whispered.

  He leaned closer, not taking his gaze from hers. His mouth turned up in a movie-star smirk and he leaned closer. “Then I guess I get up my gumption and I kiss her.”

  Elise closed her eyes, lifting her chin, mesmerized by the scent of him, by his nearness. His arms tightened around her waist as his lips brushed hers, tentatively and then with more pressure. She slid her hands over his chest, around his neck as a spark seemed to literally leap between them. It was the best kiss she’d ever had in her life.

  One that didn’t last nearly long enough.

  “Man, I shouldn’t be doing this,” Zane whispered still holding her in his arms.

  She lifted her lashes to look at him. “What do you mean?” Please don’t let him be married, she thought.

  “Nothing.” He sighed.

  She made herself ask. “You’re not married, right?”

  He shook his head. “Never been married. Come close, but…Look, it’s not you, Ellie. Really. It’s me. Like I said before, long story.” He took a step back, releasing her. “So you’ll co
me to my place for crabs, right?”

  She unlocked her car door, still dizzy from the euphoria of Zane’s kiss. “I’ll be there,” she heard herself say. “The heck with work!”

  The phone was ringing when Elise walked into her apartment. Could it be Zane again? “Hello?” she said, quickly dropping her purse on the counter.

  “Elise Anne.”

  “Father.” She couldn’t resist a little sigh of disappointment. She was feeling so good right now that she hated to speak with him. Somehow he always had a way of making her feel small. Incompetent.

  “I tried you at the office,” he said. “You weren’t in. Out showing property?”

  “Umm…yes.” She grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. It wasn’t exactly a lie. “So how are you?”

  “Busy. Preparing for our next shareholders’ meeting. You know it’s getting to be a lot for me. I was thinking tonight that if you were here,” he said pointedly, “you could be helping me run the business as you should be. You could take some of the burden for me.”

  Not this again. It was like a broken record with him. “Father, I’m a real estate agent. I know nothing about the oil business.”

  “You know about hard work,” he said gruffly. “How many times have you won top salesman of the month in your office this year?”

  “Every time,” she said quietly.

  “Five months in a row,” he grunted. “And when your sales numbers come in for June, I’ll guarantee you it will be six. It’s in the Montgomery blood. Hard work and self-sacrifice pays off.”

  She stared through the doorway of the kitchen into the living room at her beautiful carpet. Her beautiful furniture. Looking at it, knowing it was hers, didn’t give her half the satisfaction she had gotten out of catching her own crabs tonight. She could sit on that damask couch a thousand times and it would never feel as good as Zane’s single kiss.

  “Umm. I have a little news,” she said.

  “Your employers have realized it’s time they make you a partner?”

  She kicked off her sneakers and walked through the living room, down the hall to her office. “I met a nice guy.”

  “I’ve told you before, Elise Anne. Waste of time, dating these days. Monique and I just filed for divorce.”