"That night was a turning point for me. I knew I had to get my shit together, but I had to do it somewhere else. I got a job crewing on a luxury yacht, and I spent the next two years traveling the world."
"Where did you go?"
"Everywhere—Iceland, Norway, Europe, Spain, Morocco, Tahiti…the list goes on. Eventually, I started feeling better, happier."
"The ocean did its job."
"Yes," he agreed, giving her a smile. "It healed me."
"I'm surprised you ever came back."
"I found myself missing King Harbor. I wanted to accomplish more with my life. My dad told me I could take over the Boatworks if I was willing to work my way up, so I took a job there. Eventually, the manager decided to leave, and I took over."
"Did you ever consider that my father should have taken over?" she couldn't help asking.
"I didn't have to consider it; my dad offered Frank the job before he gave it to me."
"I never heard that," she said doubtfully.
"Your father turned it down, Hannah. He said he didn't want to manage a company or employees or have to worry about profit and loss; he just wanted to design and build boats."
"That does sound like him. My mom wanted him to move up the work ladder, but he always said he liked what he was doing. She couldn't understand his lack of ambition, because when she does something, she wants to be the best and to be in charge."
"There's nothing wrong with that; I'm much the same way."
"My dad is different. He wants to do the best work he can, but he doesn't care about being in charge."
"What about you? Who do you take after, Hannah?"
"I'm probably a bit of both of them. I'm ambitious and I want to be successful at what I do. But I also want more than work in my life. I can't believe I've been too busy to come back to King Harbor for five years. That's wrong. I need to find a better balance. I'm actually thinking the next two weeks will be a good time for me to reassess my goals. Plus, I get to catch up with my dad, maybe some old friends, and, of course, beating you will be the icing on the cake."
"Ouch."
She smiled. "I know it won't be easy. You're very good."
"You're not bad, either. I wouldn't mind having you on my boat. I still need a second crew member."
"I have no doubt you can find someone exceptional. And this race with my dad will help bridge the distance that's grown between us. Plus, it gives my dad something else to think about, and he needs that right now."
"I know."
"Thanks for telling me your story, Devlin. It's not one that many people seem to know, even in this small town where gossip is a favorite hobby."
"I've never felt compelled to share it. I'm sure people have talked about it behind my back, but it was a long time ago—ten years. Sometimes, I can't believe it has been that long. Anyway, now you know the story of why your father had to rescue me that night."
She gave him a thoughtful gaze. "Why did you tell me?"
"You already knew some of it. And I didn't think you were going to drop it."
"Both of those things are true, but I don't believe either one is the real reason."
He shifted in his seat, giving her a direct look. "Maybe I wanted you to know another side of me, Hannah."
"A side you don't show many people."
"No, I don't." He paused. "Amy was in my life for less than a year, but she had an impact on me. Her death made me realize that I didn't want to waste a second of my life going down a path that wasn't right for me. When I was in college, I was a business major. I sailed on the side, of course, but I was going down the path of becoming an executive for Blackthorne Enterprises. After Amy died, once I went off on my own, and started really living my life, I realized that wasn't what I wanted at all. Maybe you think it was a cop-out to go to the Boatworks, since it was also a Blackthorne company—"
"I don't," she interrupted. "It was exactly what you wanted to do. Why wouldn't you work there?"
"Right? It was part of the family business, but it felt like I was the only person who had the desire or the ability to take it over. Anyway, you asked me why I told you my story, and it's this: I may be a Blackthorne, Hannah, but I'm also me. I'm my own man. I'd prefer to be judged by what I do and not by what my family does."
"That's fair. I do recognize that you're an individual, Devlin."
"Good. Because when I kiss you again, I want you to know who you're kissing."
A shiver ran through her, not only at his words, but also the look in his eyes. "I didn't say you could kiss me again."
And suddenly the Devlin grin was back. "You didn't say I couldn't. Last chance."
He might have foreshadowed his intent, but there wasn't enough time to say no or to pull away… At least, that's what she told herself when he kissed her, and she kissed him back.
These kisses were different from the ones they'd exchanged on the boat. They were filled with emotion, with a feeling of connectedness, with a desire to bring Devlin out of the pain he'd just gotten lost in. And when they broke apart, she felt more than a little shaken by the depth of her desire. She wanted this man, and she didn't know what to do about it. Their relationship was so complicated. Part of her still wanted to hate him on her father's behalf, but the bigger part of her wanted to explore the unbelievable chemistry between them.
"Hannah?" he questioned.
"You should take me home." When he made no move to start the car, she added, "Maybe now."
"What are you afraid of?"
"Right now—myself," she said candidly.
"I'm glad you didn't say you were afraid of me."
"I don't like how you make me feel, Devlin."
"How do I make you feel?"
"Wild, reckless, impulsive…"
"And those are bad things?" he said, a sexy smile curving his lips.
"I was in a year-long relationship until six months ago."
"That's right, the three-day engagement. What happened with that?"
"He panicked. After I said yes, he started wondering if he was doing the right thing. He decided to talk to his ex-girlfriend one last time."
"That's not good."
"No, it wasn't. He went back to her. He said he was doing me a favor; that I should find someone who could put me first. That's what I deserved."
"It is what you deserve."
"But not so easy to find. Anyway, I'm not really looking to get involved with anyone. I want to be on my own for a while."
"I'm not looking for a relationship, either," he returned. "But we could have fun."
"We probably could. But from past experience, I can say that I don't like the part when the fun ends. I'm not ready to do it again. So, why don't you take me home?"
He slowly nodded. "All right." He started the engine, and they drove to her dad's house in silence.
She didn't know what to say. Devlin seemed to have run out of words as well.
"Doesn't look like Frank is home," he finally said, turning in to her empty driveway.
"He'll be back soon."
"After he finishes trying to work a miracle on Howard Palmer's boat?"
She smiled. "I never said it was Mr. Palmer's boat."
"We both know it is."
"Well, it doesn't matter. And just in case you're thinking that I now have a soft spot for you and I won't want to beat you in the race, you need to know you're wrong. Because I am going for that trophy."
He grinned back at her. "I wouldn't expect anything less. But that trophy is coming home with me. I'll see you soon, Hannah."
"Good-bye, Devlin." She got out of the car and hurried into the house, wishing she didn't already miss him.
Devlin drove the few blocks between Frank's house and the Boatworks with emotions that were all over the map. He didn't regret telling Hannah about Amy. Although, he questioned why he'd felt the need to share with her a story he had never discussed with anyone outside of his family. But somehow, the words had just spilled out of him.
It had felt surprisingly good. He felt freer, which was strange, because it had been ten years since Amy died, and he'd thought he'd put it all aside a long time ago. Apparently, he had not let go of it completely, maybe because he had never expressed the loneliness he'd felt while going through the experience on his own.
He didn't blame anyone in his family, though. He'd pushed them away. Carrying the burden alone had somehow made him feel more noble, more in love with a girl he'd known less than a year.
Would they have lasted if she hadn't died?
He had no idea.
Had Amy been the great love story of his life? Or was their story only the most tragic?
He'd never been able to answer those questions.
Parking in the lot in front of the Boatworks, he forced thoughts of the past out of his head. When he entered the building, instead of going upstairs to his apartment, he moved down the stairs leading into the basement. The large room spanned the entire building and was a crowded but organized storage center. He walked past filing cabinets holding business information and tax returns going back years, old furniture discarded when the upstairs offices had been redone, and boxes and boxes of boat parts, tools, and other miscellaneous supplies.
In the back of the room was exactly what he was looking for—a seven-foot fiberglass boat known as the Optimist, the most popular single-handed sailing dinghy for kids under the age of fifteen. He'd sailed this boat in his very first race nineteen years ago. He'd come in third, and he'd been mad as hell. He'd wanted to win so badly. He'd wanted to prove to his father that he was good as he was, because his father had won his first race at age ten.
"Devlin?"
He started at the sound of his father's voice, wondering if he'd somehow conjured him up with his thoughts.
"Devlin?" his father called out once more. "Where are you?"
"Basement," he yelled, moving around a filing cabinet as his dad came down the stairs.
His father wore black pants and a dark-blue shirt open at the collar, his pepper-gray hair styled, an air of expensive cologne about him. He certainly looked better than he had earlier in the day.
"Dad, what are you doing here? I thought you went back to Boston."
"I changed my mind. What are you doing?"
"Checking to see if my old boat was still here." He waved his hand toward the Optimist. "And she is."
"Why do you care about that old boat?"
"There's a kid who needs a boat for the summer sailing program. It's Mason, Erica Rogers's son. I don't know if you remember her…"
"I know who Erica is. I was sorry to hear about her husband."
"It's a sad situation, and I'd like to make it better. Mason loves to sail. I was wondering if this old boat has some more races in her."
"I'm sure she does. Maybe even a win."
"It took me three years to get a win in this boat. I kept losing to Kyle Hartman. It made me crazy."
"I remember," his dad said with a faint smile. "Your mother told me I should stop putting so much pressure on you to win. But I wanted you to know what victory felt like. And eventually you did."
There was a familiar note of pride in his father's voice now. While he was happy he'd done something that his father was proud of, he couldn't help but think that Blackthorne pride also caused a hell of a lot of problems.
"Now you win every year," his dad added.
"Well, the last few years I've had a fantastic partner."
His father's expression went cold. "I didn't come here to talk about Frank."
"But we still need to talk about him. You're letting a personal issue get in the way of business, and that's not like you."
His father stiffened. "Frank had no right to talk to Claire and get in the middle of my marriage."
"Maybe Mom put him in the middle."
"He went there willingly, but, as I said, I didn't come to talk about Frank. I wanted to let you know that your mother is fine. She's in Paris."
"Paris?" he echoed. "She went to France?"
"That's where Paris is," Graham said tightly.
"Have you spoken to her? Is she coming home? Are you going after her?"
"I have not talked to her. But I've been informed that she's fine and she has a place to stay, so you don't need to worry about her."
"I was more worried about your marriage than her safety. Why don't you talk to her? She's clearly upset."
"Your mother embarrassed me. She ranted in front of our friends and business associates about nonsense. I have never done anything but love and respect and provide for her. She needs to get over this birthday depression madness and come home and apologize."
"You don't have anything to apologize for?" he dared to ask.
"My relationship with your mother is not your business, Devlin."
"She made it everyone's business the other night."
"That was unfortunate. But this will be over soon. Your mother will be back."
He hoped his father's confidence was not misplaced.
"Anyway, I'll be going to Boston in the morning," Graham continued. "I'd appreciate it if you'd check in on your grandmother while I'm gone. Pam and Joe will certainly do their part, but without Claire here, I worry about her."
"I'd be happy to check in on her. When are you coming back?"
"I'm not sure—a few days."
Which meant he'd have to wait a few more days to resolve the situation with Frank. That wasn't going to make Hannah happy.
"I should get going," his dad said.
"Wait." He gave in to an impulse he would probably regret. "Do you ever miss sailing, Dad?"
"I sail," his father said with a frown.
"You cruise on luxury yachts. You don’t work the sails. You don't ride the wind, not the way you used to. I need a partner for the race. No one else in the family is available. What about you?"
"I haven't raced in years."
"Not since Uncle Mark died," he acknowledged. "I know it wouldn't be the same, but it could be fun. And you might have the added bonus of beating Frank."
His father's gaze sharpened. "What are you talking about?"
"Frank is going to race another boat with his daughter, Hannah. He's determined to beat me, to show he's the reason we've won the race the last several years."
"He won't be able to find another boat as good as ours."
"No, but he's a damned good racer, one of the best there is. His daughter is good, too. I need a partner who has experience, likes to compete, and refuses to lose. Sound like anyone you know?"
A gleam entered his father's eyes. "Are you trying to handle me, Devlin?"
"That depends. Is it working?"
His father gave him a long stare. "We can't let Frank win that race."
"I can't do it alone. If you want the Wind Warrior to come in first and double its value, then you either need to race, or I need to get Frank back in the company and back on the boat."
"I'll…think about it," Graham said. "But don't give me ultimatums, Devlin. You may run the company, but I own it."
"I can't run the company with my hands tied behind my back," he said tersely. "You need to respect me and my ability to make the Boatworks profitable. You might want to think about that, too."
His father turned and left the room without further comment. He blew out a breath, not sure where they'd ended up but glad he'd put his cards on the table. His father wasn't the only one with Blackthorne pride. He'd made the Boatworks more profitable than it had ever been, and it was about time his father recognized that fact.
Chapter Eight
Hannah managed to avoid Devlin for three whole days. In fact, she'd just started to relax when she ran into him on the sidewalk in front of the Yacht Club on Wednesday night. He wore tan slacks and a white button-down shirt. His hair was damp, his cheeks cleanly shaven, and there was a sparkle in his brown eyes.
As their gazes met, her stomach did a happy little somersault, making a mockery of her resolve to forget about him.
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br /> "This is a nice surprise," he said. "I didn't know you were coming to Jessica's party."
"Her mom invited me when I signed up for the race on Sunday. Jessica and I were friends in elementary school. I didn't realize you and Jessica were now friends."
"Jessica works at the distillery."
"Right. She's another Blackthorne employee; I forgot."
He smiled as she rolled her eyes. "Our employees are not indentured servants. We pay quite well," he teased. "But I'm actually better friends with Vince, her fiancé. He runs the fish and chips café on the wharf—The Flying Fish."
"That's a new one for me."
"He opened about two years ago and does a good business. You should try it some time." He paused. "How's the Daisy Mae coming along? Have you taken her out yet?"
"We're going to do that tomorrow. My dad has been whipping her into shape. What about you? Have you found a racing partner?"
"Possibly. I'm still waiting to get a firm commitment from my dad."
"Your dad?" she echoed in surprise. "I thought you said he never raced, not since his brother died."
"Well, we had an interesting chat on Sunday night, and when he heard you and Frank were going to be competing against us, he told me he might be willing to do it. Apparently, beating your father has provided much-needed incentive."
"My dad is also fired up at the prospect of taking your family down. Not that he's angry with you," she said hastily. "He's told me several times that he understands you're caught in the middle."
"I'm glad to hear that. Your father has been a good friend, a mentor to me. I hate that I'm letting him down. But I still think with a little time we can work it all out."
"By the time you work it out, my father may decide to move on. He's been getting calls from other companies."
"Well, I hope he'll talk to me before he makes a decision. Maybe you could pass that on to him."
"Sure. Has there been any word from your mother?"
"I know she's in Paris, but that's all I know."
"Springtime in Paris doesn't sound bad."
"I'm hoping it's just a vacation and not a permanent change of address. But I'm going to have to wait and see how that plays out as well. Shall we go inside?"
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