Half-Hitched

by Isabel Sharpe

  “Oh.” She sounded carefully neutral. “Why did you ask me that?”

  “I wanted to know.”

  Addie turned her head to the side, her features darkened by the light behind her. “What happened between you and Sarah?”

  “She obviously told you.”

  “I want to hear it from you.”

  He was absurdly pleased. She was giving him a chance. But since she was already on Sarah’s side, he’d have to choose his words carefully. “Sarah and I...mixed signals one night. When things didn’t work out the way she expected she was angry and hurt. She’s a great person, I respect her and would go back and change that night if I could.”

  Addie turned around to look up at him, stopping mere inches away. God help him. “She told me you came on to her.”

  “No.” He held still while she examined his face, wanting to touch her so badly he was having trouble breathing, aware that he’d just called her close friend a liar.

  “Did you ask me about kissing because you wanted to kiss me?”

  “What do you think?”

  He expected a giggle. A blush. A coy glance. Instead she looked distraught. “Derek, I’m...I’m here to be with someone.”

  A solid kick to his stomach. “Yeah? Who’s that?”

  She dropped her gaze. “Someone I’ve known a long time.”

  He would have noticed if she’d been hanging around any guy in particular tonight. As far as he knew all the guests had arrived.

  Except...him.

  Aw, crap. “Kevin Ames.”

  “How did you know?” She was blushing.

  “He’s world famous.” He kept his voice light, not wanting to sound as disappointed and pissed off as he was. “I’ve met him.”

  “Really?” Her voice got all eager, which made Derek even grouchier. “Where?”

  “In Florida.” He was not going to comment further. If Kevin was the type she fell for, she wasn’t going to want a man like him.

  He shouldn’t care. For God’s sake, he’d only met Addie tonight.

  Maybe it was the booze, the loss of sleep, too much loneliness for too long, but there were plenty of attractive women here, many of whom he’d spoken to at dinner—hell there had been plenty of attractive women crawling all over his boat for the last eight years.

  It was crazy, it made no sense, he was exhausted, out of his mind, he’d known Addie all of a few hours.

  But he’d never wanted any of them the way he wanted her.

  3

  SARAH LAY ON a grassy patch at the edge of the island’s northern beach, where they’d had dinner that evening, listening to the waves lapping, gazing up at the night sky in search of shooting stars. She’d gone inside with everyone else hours ago when the party broke up, but after people headed off to bed she’d come back out here, knowing she wouldn’t sleep. Too many emotions, her head spun with them. She hated feeling half-crazy like this.

  For whatever reason she’d been born feeling things more intensely than most people, which earned her all kinds of lovely labels: diva, drama queen, yeah, yeah, she knew. She did overreact, she did get more upset, more happy, more...just more. But short of drugging herself, there was nothing she could do about it. She was who she was, for better or worse.

  Right now worse.

  She swallowed awkwardly over the mild burn of thirst in the back of her throat. One beer too many and not enough water to balance out the alcohol. But it was so lovely lying here watching the sky, indulging her tortured thoughts, that she didn’t want to go back up to the house for a drink.

  Derek Bates was the most gorgeous, sexiest, most intelligent, incredible man she’d ever met. And Sarah was nothing to him. She always fell for men who didn’t want her. Before Derek there’d been Ethan at Vassar, captain of the baseball team, a great friend. She’d lusted, but he never thought of her “that way” and had dated cheerleaders and dancers and other varieties of perfect—from her perspective perfectly vapid—women, while maintaining a closer relationship with Sarah than with any of them. Before Ethan there’d been Kevin Ames. She’d had it bad for Kevin for a long, long time. But when he finally stopped chasing big-boobed wonders, he’d wanted Addie, not Sarah. Maybe he still did...that would be great, actually. If Sarah couldn’t have him, at least one of her best friends could; for Addie’s sake Sarah would do whatever it took to bring them together this week. Addie needed someone. She had no idea how fabulous she was.

  But back to Sarah’s favorite topic: Sarah. What if she never got Derek out of her head or her heart, even knowing he’d never belong to her?

  That night five years ago on this beach, she’d been a total brat, which she was still so horribly embarrassed about she could barely look at him.

  Although seriously, who could not look at Derek? She still did, just not when he could tell.

  Anyway, it had been a cool and moonless night, like this one. They’d sat on this very spot talking for an hour after Paul and their parents had gone to bed. Sarah had been drunk on too much wine and had started bawling over something, she couldn’t even remember what. Derek had comforted her, put his arms around her, stroked her hair. She’d thought that was the signal she’d been dreaming of and had tried her best to make something happen.

  Yeah, well, nice fantasy, Sarah.

  Then, in an appalling show of immaturity, she’d bolstered her crushed ego by accusing him to Addie and then to Joe, who when she came back to Vassar had been able to tell right away that something was upsetting her. It didn’t help that she’d also overheard comments from Paul about Derek’s sexploits in harbors around the world. A woman in every port, sometimes two, and in St. Thomas, three, two of whom were apparently twins. So even not caring much who he had in bed at any given time, he still hadn’t wanted Sarah.

  She coughed. Man, she needed water. Her throat was practically sticking to itself.

  Footsteps rustled and snapped in the woods. Sarah lifted onto her elbows. A man’s form, stepping onto the beach, well-built, tall. Her heart starting to race. Derek? Coming to finish what they started?

  “Sarah?”

  Joe. Her heart slowed. She sat up. “Yes, it’s me.”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Couldn’t sleep. How did you know where I was?”

  “I heard you leave, didn’t hear you come back so I came looking.” He plunked down on the grass beside her and handed her something cool.

  A can of sparkling water. “Joe, you are a god.”

  “Wait, you’re only realizing that now?”

  “No, no, I knew.” She cracked the top to the can and took a long, grateful drink. “Heaven. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. So what are you doing out here besides not sleeping?”

  “Watching for shooting stars. Thinking.”

  “About what?” He scootched down to lie next to her. His warm side adjacent to her hip made her realize she’d gotten chilly.

  “About...how I always fall for guys who don’t want me.”

  “No kidding. You’re batting about a thousand on that one.”

  “Ha.” Sarah giggled. “Thanks for the vote of support.”

  “I mean how can anyone be so clueless?”

  “Hey.” She shoved him with her hip. “Your deep empathy is much appreciated.”

  “You can’t see what’s right under your nose, Sarah Bosson.” His voice descended to a melodramatic growl.

  “Okay, okay. So what do I do?”

  “Come to Dr. Joe. He will rewire your brain using everyday household items.”

  Sarah’s laughter was interrupted by a horrific burp from the soda bubbles. She laughed harder. “Oh, no! Joe, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine, don’t worry, really. I still have hearing in my other ear.”

/>   “Stop, stop.” She waited for her giggles to die out, loving that she could belch in front of Joe and not feel more than slightly embarrassed. He had no illusions she was perfect. He had no illusions about her at all. And for some reason he still wanted to be her friend.

  They’d met at Vassar and became close right away. After graduating they’d both moved to Boston where she got a job fund-raising for Harvard and he did something with computers she couldn’t begin to understand. They saw each other a few times a month and talked and texted often. He was her absolute rock. She’d die without him. “Anyway, so I was thinking about this one unattainable guy who—”

  “Derek.”

  Sarah’s jaw dropped. That was psychic, even for him. Or maybe she was pathetically obvious. “How did you know?”

  “You mooned over him all night.”

  “I did not!” Yup. Pathetic.

  “Because he’s so hunky and sexy and sooo super hot!”

  Sarah made a sound of exasperation. “Well, he is.”

  “I know, I know.” Joe’s sigh was heavy in the darkness. “Go ahead, Sarah, talk. You know I can take it.”

  “Well, I have to tell you something.” She hunched her shoulders, hugging her knees, hoping he wouldn’t be angry. “That night with Derek on the beach.”

  His body tensed next to her. “Yes?”

  “He didn’t attack me. I was drunk and I sort of...tried to make something happen.”

  “I figured it was something like that.”

  “Wait, what?” She released her knee to whap his shoulder. “How dare you undermine the power of my dramatic bombshell?”

  “Aw, Sarah.” He reached up to push her bangs off her face, let his fingers drift tenderly down her cheek. “I’ve known you for nine years. If you were really attacked by some guy, he wouldn’t live long enough to see the next day, let alone the next five years. The way Paul talks about this guy, the way you talk about him, it didn’t add up. I didn’t know exactly what happened, but I’m not surprised.”

  She lay down next to him, throat tight. “You don’t blame me?”

  “For what?”

  “Lying?”

  “I didn’t think of it that way. You just weren’t ready to tell the whole truth.”

  Her heart was full to bursting. She had to blink through tears to bring the stars back into focus. “Seriously, Joe, are you perfect or do you just pretend to be?”

  “I’m the real deal, Sarah. Maybe someday you’ll realize—”

  A white streak blazed across a good portion of the night sky. Sarah shrieked and pointed. “Did you see that?”

  “Whoa. Yes. I did.” He sounded as awed as she felt. “It means you get to make a wish.”

  “Why not you?”

  “You saw it first.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because.” He reached over and rubbed her head until her already messy hair was a total disaster, making her shriek again, with laughter this time. “I said so.”

  “Stop! My coif! My stunning updo. Ruined!”

  “Now.” He let her go. “Make a wish.”

  “Okay, okay.” Sarah thought—took her about half a second to decide—then reached up to the sky and wished with all her might that she might love a man who loved her back. It was all she’d ever wanted. So many people managed it. Her parents. Paul and Ellen. Why not her?

  “Finished?”

  “Yes.”

  “Should I check?”

  Sarah frowned. “Check what?”

  “To see if the six hottest members of the U.S. Navy are waiting naked in your room?”

  She giggled. “That’s not what I wished for.”

  “Then I hope you get whatever it was.” He got to his feet, reached down and pulled her up opposite him as if she weighed nothing. “And I think you need to go to bed.”

  “Yes, Dad.” She didn’t resist when his arms came around her. He was such a good friend. So patient with her, so nonthreatening. Why couldn’t she fall in love with him?

  “Listen to me.”

  “Mmm?” She laid her head on his solid shoulder.

  “You are going to sleep really well tonight.” He started stroking her hair, working the tense muscles at the base of her scalp. “And tomorrow you are going to wake up and realize you’ve put this Derek demon totally to bed.”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes. As if. She’d be happy if she could think about him without getting wet. And talk to him without getting so flustered and guilty she could barely form words.

  “And.” Joe rocked her back and forth. “You are going to remind yourself that I love you no matter how insane you get, no matter how completely and insufferably annoying, no matter how—”

  “Uh, Joe?” She patted his chest. “Yeah, um, thanks. That’s enough.”

  “No problem.” He squeezed her then took her hand. “Let’s go.”

  “I’m ready.” She followed him across the beach, fumbling for her flashlight. “Hey, who was that girl you were talking to all night? The cute little one.”

  “Carrie?”

  “Yeah. Where’s your flashlight?” She tried to remember seeing him use one, still not having any luck extracting hers from her sweatshirt pocket since it was on the side of the hand Joe was holding.

  “Don’t need one. Just follow me.”

  “Wait, seriously? Through the woods? The path is treacherous and it’s pitch-black. I’ve come here all my life and even I wouldn’t do it.”

  “I have cat eyes.”

  “Joe...” She hung back, still trying for the flashlight, until he tugged her impatiently forward.

  “Just lift your feet so you don’t trip. You’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. But if you kill me I’m suing.” She followed him a few more steps, getting braver as it became apparent he was navigating nicely. “So...what about Carrie?”

  “Nice girl. What do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice came out too high and she had to relax her throat to get it back to normal. “Do you like her?”

  He snorted impatiently. “No, I talked to her all night because she repulsed me.”

  “Okay, okay. Never mind.” Sarah’s giggle felt forced. What was wrong with her, she was so self-absorbed she couldn’t even be happy for her best friend? “I’m glad for you. I hope something comes of it. You deserve someone wonderful.”

  “I think so, too.” He pulled her up unerringly through the trees, finding the path past the blueberry patch and up to the house, supporting her when she stumbled. It was actually kind of mysterious and cool.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Joe.”

  He chuckled and opened the back door for her to go inside. “I hope you never have to find out.”

  She kissed his cheek and crossed through the living room toward the bedroom she shared with Addie, noticing how much calmer and lighter she felt, how much more clear and slow-moving her brain was. Joe was good for her. He always had been. Knew her inside out, tolerated her worst faults and adored her strengths. What more could a woman want?

  Macho alpha sizzle. Daring, adventure, challenge.

  Sarah sighed and used the hall bathroom, then climbed into bed, careful not to disturb Addie.

  Sometimes she thought she must be the most shallow person alive. But if she was deep-down wired to be attracted to guys like Derek, Ethan and Kevin instead of guys like Joe, there wasn’t a single damn thing she could do about it.

  4

  ADDIE WAS CONFUSED. Standing on the cliff in front of the Bossons’ house, drinking champagne punch, keeping an eye out for Kevin’s arrival, she was in a thorough state of turmoil. And since confusion didn’t visit her very often, thank goodness, she could safely say that she didn’t li
ke it. At all. Most of the time her emotional life was, if not under control, then at least comprehensible. She was single or she was in a relationship. She was friends with someone or she wasn’t. She had a crush on a guy or she didn’t.

  She’d come to this island with a head full of Kevin. Her past with him, the promise of intimate time with him this weekend, and the vaguest whisper of possibility that they could continue some relationship into the future—Philadelphia wasn’t that far from New York City after all. Over a decade of mooning and fantasy about to come true.

  And then she met Derek.

  Her love of the simple and the clear—statistics and probabilities and interpretable data—did not prepare her for a man who, during their first-ever meeting unsettled her to the point of blathering, who wanted to watch the sunset alone with her, and who, in a low, dreamy voice, as much as said he wanted to kiss her. Frankly, for a few seconds—okay, many seconds—she’d wanted him to kiss her more than she’d wanted to go on breathing.

  Even if Sarah’s story about Derek wasn’t one-hundred percent accurate, as Derek claimed, he was still a girl-in-every-port guy in his mid-thirties, while Kevin, at thirty-one, had already been totally committed to one woman in a marriage, faithful until divorce did them part.

  Shouldn’t that clear everything up? A rational conclusion drawn from the available information, leading to a sensible low-risk recommendation for future action. Derek was a womanizer. Kevin was a sweetheart. Only an idiot would still dream about Derek. Or do something completely foolish like keep peeking over at him on a kayak trip earlier that afternoon. She’d interrupted perfectly wonderful chances to stare into the water, spot orange and purple starfish, waving seaweed that looked nearly floral, blue mussels and splotchy pink growths on underwater reefs by looking up every three seconds to keep track of where he was and with whom. Worse, she’d caught him several times in the act of looking over at her, too.

  For a while he’d paddled alongside her kayak, and they’d chatted easily about his extensive travels and her not-so-extensive ones. About movies and books and favorite foods. Through it all, he’d shown no signs of anything more than friendly interest, and then he’d quite naturally steered his kayak over to chat with someone else.