Dive Into You

by Chris Keniston

  “I know. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure. The kids are fun to watch. And I like helping out.”

  Billy nodded and grabbed a screwdriver.

  “This morning over doughnuts,” Doug continued, “we got to talking, and I invited her to dinner tonight.”

  Billy’s hand stilled. “You invited Emily?”

  “Mmm hmm.” Doug would have said something more if his tongue weren’t suddenly glued to the roof of his mouth.

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why?”

  “There are plenty of girls willing to lift their skirts for you. What do you want with my sister?”

  And how the hell was he supposed to answer that? “She’s a great girl. I thought it would be nice to get to know her better, and, since we all have to eat sooner or later, dinner struck me as a good idea.” He could play this casual. He needed permission. He didn’t need to give Billy a blow-by-blow description of his game plan. Not that he had one.

  “I suppose having you keep an eye out for her wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

  “I don’t want to be her bodyguard. I want to take her to dinner.”

  The screwdriver clunked loudly against the table at the same moment Billy’s eyes grew round enough to see the whites of his eyes. “You asking to date my sister? Are you fucking crazy?”

  “Yes, I’m asking.” He turned to get in Billy’s face. “And I’d be crazy not to ask. Your sister is terrific. She’s funny and smart and really cares about people.”

  “She talks tough, but it’s all for show.” Billy shook his head. “She’s got a soft heart. I don’t want it to break. All you’d have to do is bat those baby blues at her, and she’d think she’s in love with you.”

  “I don’t want to break her heart. I want to take her to dinner.”

  Billy rubbed his hand roughly over his face, bringing it to rest on his chin. “I know she’s grown up, but she’ll always be my baby sister. Did you know she wants to firewalk?”

  Doug nodded.

  “Bungee jump?” Billy didn’t give Doug time to even blink. “And if she mentions throwing herself out of a plane one more time, I may have to lock her in a closet until she’s thirty-five.”

  “It’s not like we haven’t jumped from airplanes.”

  The way Billy’s brows furrowed, anyone would think it was the first time he’d realized that. And then the tension in his stance seemed to melt away. “Maybe that’s the way to go. Have you talk her out of it. I can’t say anything because that will only egg her on, and Nick’s too much like another brother, but, if it comes from someone else, she might listen.”

  A flash of panic squeezed at his lungs. It was bad enough he’d already slept with Emily. Doug really didn’t want to heap her brother’s wrath on him for this too. “If her mind’s made up, she probably won’t listen to anyone.”

  Eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose, Billy blew out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately. She’s always talked tough, but now she seems to be having a midlife crisis or something twenty years early.” He picked up a screwdriver, and Doug resisted the urge to take a step back. “Do you know what she said to me the day after Lexie’s wedding?”

  Doug shook his head and held his breath.

  “That she’d picked up a stranger and took him home for sex.” Obviously agitated, Billy tossed the hand tool back on the workbench. “I know she was only teasing, but, in the mood she’s in, the wrong guy could take serious advantage of her.”

  Doug nodded. At least he agreed with Billy. He didn’t want some schmo coming along and taking advantage of Emily’s newfound thrill-of-living attitude. Even if Doug was guilty of it himself after the wedding.

  Dragging his hand hard behind his neck, Billy tilted his head to face Doug. “You promise no funny stuff? Just dinner. Conversation.”

  Doug nodded. Funny stuff was a matter of opinion, but he would do his best to honor the man’s intent.

  “Okay.” Billy grabbed the tool again, and this time Doug did take a step aside. “If a guy can’t trust his sister with the man who risked his life to save him, who can he trust her with?”

  Doug really wished Billy hadn’t phrased it quite that way. Moving to pull out the wet suits for the night group, Doug accepted a third reality of his life. No matter what happened with him and Emily, when all was said and done, Billy was going to break not one but both of Doug’s legs.

  * * *

  Emily glanced up at the clock for the umpteenth time in the last half hour. Something had to be holding Doug up at the shop. Normally, when her dad still ran the business, he was usually home from the manta dive by now. Rather than drive herself nuts dissecting possible scenario and dwelling on how much she missed her dad, Emily opted to sit at her desk and go over her notes on today’s rehearsal.

  Lost in her diagrams and calculations, she almost didn’t realize the doorbell had rung. Still focused on the play, she pushed to her feet and, leaving her shoes under the desk, answered the door.

  Doug filled the doorway, a weary smile in place. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

  “No worries. You never gave me a time.” She waved him inside.

  “Usually I can finish up and get out pretty fast.”

  “What happened tonight?”

  “Not what.” Doug collapsed onto the sofa. “Who.”

  Emily fished under her desk for her shoes and gave herself an imaginary fist pump when she spotted Doug staring at her backside, his grin a whole lot happier. “What did who do?”

  Doug chuckled. “Is there a plural for who?”

  “Probably. What did they do?”

  “I knew it was going to be a long night when Who Number One grabbed Who Number Two’s mask because Who Number Three broke hers.”

  “I hope you’re talking about three kids.”

  “Not just kids. Teens. And…” He leaned his head back. “Triplets.”

  “Ooh. And their parents?”

  “Had a great time. They completely ignored their children and left herding them to the crew. When Number One wrestled Number Three for God-only-knows-what, she knocked someone’s juice into the camera barrel. I thought Nick was going to keelhaul all three and the parents.” With his head leaned against the back of her sofa, Doug’s eyes flickered open and shut.

  “You’re beat. Why don’t I see what I can rustle up?”

  “No.” Doug shoved off the couch. “I invited you out.”

  “How about a compromise?”

  He arched one brow at her.

  “Delivery. We can order a pizza or Chinese. And Luigi’s delivers.”

  “Mmm.” He smiled. “Italian sounds great about now. A nice linguini with marina and meatballs.”

  “Italian it is.” Emily did an about-face, grabbed the take-out menu for Luigi’s of Verona from the kitchen drawer, placed their order, then planted herself on the sofa beside Doug.

  “I had a chat with Billy before the dive tonight,” he said.

  “Oh.” Emily turned on her hip and tucked her legs underneath her. “What about?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” She didn’t like the sound of that.

  “Well. You and me.”

  Her feet curled out from under her, and she sat straighter. “I’m listening.”

  “I needed him to know we had a dinner date tonight.”

  Rather than rant at Doug about her brother not being her keeper, she bit her tongue, literally and figuratively, and waited.

  “Not only is he my friend, he’s my boss.”

  “So?” Okay, one little word slipped out, but that was way better than saying her love life was not her brother’s business.

  “While losing my job over you would be much easier on me than losing my life—”

  “Don’t exaggerate.”

  “I have no doubt if Billy knew I met you for the first time at Lexie and Jim’s wedding and came home to your bed, I wouldn’t be exaggerating. He’d be more than happy to at least
put me in the hospital. Which is why I needed to be up front with him. If we’re going to be spending time together, he needs to know. And I do agree, that’s all he needs to know.”

  “Well.” She relaxed into the sofa again and considered the man in front of her. As much as she didn’t like reporting to her brother, she had to admire Doug’s noble gesture. The man was definitely honorable. And sweet. He was great with the kids at the play. “Okay, I won’t hold it against you. This time.”

  He raised his right hand. “Scout’s honor, you can count on me.”

  “You were a scout?”

  Doug chuckled and shook his head. “No. But you can count on me anyway.”

  The seconds seemed to tick by. Neither looked away. Gazes locked, she fell into his embrace. The gentle strength of his arms around her matched the tantalizing touch of his lips on hers. She leaned closer, her fingers easing across his neck and into his still damp locks. Maybe they could have dinner for breakfast.

  Chapter Eighteen

  No sooner had Emily fallen into his arms than the doorbell rang. With one last touch to her lips, Doug resisted holding on and reluctantly pushed to his feet. The heady rush from the feel of this woman in his arms followed him to the door. Thinking clearly was impossible. Which would explain why it took him an extra beat to recognize the person on the other side of the threshold. “Tim.”

  “Hi, Mr. H. Here you go.” Tim held up a large paper bag. “That’ll be $28.50.”

  His wallet in hand, Doug took his time pulling out one bill, then another. All the while wondering how he was going to stay for dinner but not carry Emily off to bed. One kiss and thoughts of loyalty to Billy scattered like dust in the wind.

  Taking the money with one hand, Tim passed the bag of food to Doug with the other.

  “Keep the change.”

  “Wow. Thank you.” The kid gawked at the two twenty-dollar bills in his hand.

  Doug almost laughed at the teen when an idea struck him like a lightning bolt in a Sunday comic strip. “Tim, are you heading back to the restaurant?”

  “No, sir. This is my last run. The manager said I could just go home and close out the ticket tomorrow.”

  “Great. Why don’t you join us for dinner?” Doug did his best to ignore the surprise on Emily’s face.

  Tim’s shoulders lifted in what might have been a reluctant yes, but his feet didn’t move.

  “I’m sure there’s plenty.” Doug opened the door wider.

  Like a droopy-eyed pup looking eagerly to his masters for approval, Tim’s gaze went from Doug’s nodding head to Emily’s sudden smile before he shoved at his glasses and stepped inside. For the next few minutes they all worked in the kitchen pulling out plates, setting the table, emptying the bag of its contents and serving the food.

  “I love Luigi’s garlic bread.” Emily took a big bite and, closing her eyes, practically purred with delight.

  The sensual sound had Doug shifting in his seat.

  “The entire island loves our garlic bread.” Tim reached for another piece. “No one knows what’s in the butter recipe. Luigi makes it himself every day before anyone comes in.”

  Doug looked up from his plate. “There really is a Luigi?”

  Tim nodded and twirled another forkful of pasta. “He’s from New York.”

  “Wherever he’s from, this marina’s really good.” Doug stabbed at a meatball and noticed Tim seemed to be shoveling down the food as though he hadn’t eaten in a week. Keeping him fed had to cost his dad a fortune. “How are you liking working at the dive shop?”

  “It’s okay. Inventory and diving stuff isn’t my thing, but Mr. Everrett is letting me update his computer system. Some guy in Portland sent him a proposal for a personalized sales program geared specifically for the shop’s needs.”

  “I heard.” Doug took another bite.

  “I told him I could do that. I’ve been tinkering, showing him what I can do. I think he’s going to let me do the whole job.” Tim rambled on about the upgrades and Internet access and how he’d gone in the backend to rewrite the program.

  Emily stood and reached for Doug’s empty plate. “What else do you know how to do with computers?”

  While Emily finished clearing the table, Tim prattled on about his efforts in creating video games. The kid had some serious computer skills. Enough to make Doug wonder who would be teaching who if he got into Stanford. “That all sounds fantastic.”

  “Yeah. I’ve still got some bugs to work out. Dad keeps telling me to stop wasting my time with the games and use my brain for something that will actually do the world some good.”

  Doug bit down on his back teeth and counted to five. Asshole fathers were a hot button with him. “I wonder if that’s what Steve Jobs’s father said to him in a garage in Mountain View?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Tim’s solemn mood seemed to lift.

  “What does your mother think?”

  The kid’s lighter mood slid away as quickly as it had come. Tim reached for his glass of water. “She doesn’t know.”

  Doug didn’t like the sound of that. “She not around?”

  Tim shook his head.

  “That’s rough.” Acid turned in his stomach. Doug didn’t think she was dead. He recognized that I’m-not-good-enough glint in Tim’s eyes. The one that only came from having a mother or father bail on you and thinking, if only you’d done something different, been good enough, they wouldn’t have taken off. “My mom left when I was only eight.”

  Tim’s head shot up and then dropped back to the glass of water in front of him. “I don’t remember my mom. Dad says I’m better off without her.”

  Doug figured the dad was probably right about that much. “What do you think?”

  “I think if my mother had stuck around, my dad wouldn’t have had to work two jobs to raise me.” Dragging his gaze away from the nearly empty glass, Tim pushed to his feet and faced Emily. “Excuse me, Miss Everett, but where’s the bathroom?”

  “Down the hall, first door on the left.” Emily stuck her left arm straight out, then waited until he was out of sight before she turned to Doug. “That was very kind of you to share your past with him.”

  Kind? Doug swallowed hard. He didn’t like talking about his family or lack of family. Few people knew about his upbringing. Most of the guys on his team knew. He’d gotten shit-face drunk at every opportunity after returning to base from Amy’s graduation. His team had cornered him in the bar one night after only a few beers. Just enough to loosen his tongue. The six of them had gotten plastered, and, when the hangovers had cleared, the ghosts had moved along. He hadn’t had any beer now to loosen his tongue, but he wanted Tim to know he wasn’t alone. “The kid needs to know it wasn’t his fault.”

  She glanced down the hall again. “He looks up to you. I’m sorry your mother left, but I’m glad if you can help him understand.”

  “Does he have any siblings?”

  “Not according to his records. But his records also don’t mention his mother abandoned him and his dad. The mother’s data is merely blank.” She took a moment, seemed to be trying to read his mind. “Do you have siblings?”

  That familiar fist strangled his heart. He nodded.

  “Your mother took them when she left you?”

  “Not them. Her. And, no. My mother didn’t take either of us. Like the tired old story in a 1940s melodrama, she went to the store for milk and never came back. Amy wasn’t even two.”

  Emily waited another minute. “What was your father like?”

  “A drunken bum just like my mother.” Doug hadn’t meant to say any more, but, this time, the words came more easily than he’d expected. “Only he was meaner. Got himself killed in a bar fight.”

  Startled eyes stared back at him.

  It was a good thing for Emily to understand he wasn’t her kind. “I was nine years old.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice came out in a pained whisper.

  “When I was ten, my fo
ster parents locked me in my room so I wouldn’t make a fuss when social services took Amy away. They’d given up on adopting us out as a pair. Amy was sweet and petite. One of the social workers insisted it was easier to find parents for a pretty little girl alone. I didn’t get a vote.”

  Emily nodded and seemed to let what he said sink in. “Did someone adopt her?”

  Doug bobbed his head. “As soon as the courts revoked my mother’s parental rights.”

  “Do you keep in touch with your sister?”

  His heart stuck in his throat, robbing him of words. Did watching from a distance when she graduated high school count? He didn’t think so and shook his head.

  “I should be getting home.” Neither of them had noticed Tim come out of the bathroom. “Thank you for the dinner.”

  “My pleasure, Tim.” Emily stood and walked him to the door.

  Doug followed the pair.

  “Goodnight Mr. H, Miss Everrett.” The teen shoved at his glasses again.

  “Good night, Tim.” Emily stood in place and watched the forlorn young man walk away.

  Doug desperately needed air. “I’d better go too.”

  Emily closed the door. “I wish you’d stay.”

  His memories weighed on him like a two-ton elephant. Switching gears on a dime was what his life had always been about. But right now the temptation to lose his past in the warmth of Emily Everrett’s bed was more than he was prepared to deal with. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “At least let me make you a cup of tea before you go. Maybe a piece of Mom’s coconut cream pie.”

  Maile was famous for her baking. Most folks considered her pies a slice of heaven on Earth. And right about now he could use a taste of heaven. He nodded.

  Emily’s lips curled upward. “I knew that would get you.” In the kitchen she fluttered about retrieving dishes, silverware and finally the anticipated pie from the fridge.

  “Looks delicious.”

  “That’s because it is.” She flashed him a cheesy grin and slid the knife into the uncut pie. Placing a dish of pie in front of him, she spun about to serve herself.

  Doug waited for her to sit beside him before digging his fork into the creamy whipped topping. Flavors burst in his mouth, and he had little success suppressing a satisfied moan.