Curiosity spurring her on, Sandra pushed aside her moral objections and glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was in the hallway where she sat. Once assured she was all alone, she pulled the parcel out.
Hiding the envelope under the table she gently removed the legal sized paper as though they were glass. “Dear Mr. MacFabish,” the cover letter began, “We are happy to announce the acceptance of your proposal to lease the specified space you propose to build onto your facility for the purposes of marine animal research. Enclosed is the contract we discussed. Please look it over with your attorney and let us know if its meets with your approval.”
Sandra’s stomach lurched into a tight ball as she shoved the papers back into the envelope and into the bag. Hank was planning to enlarge the aquarium. Why hadn’t he mentioned it to anybody and where had he planned to acquire the additional land? He had offered to buy her out the other night at the party. She hadn’t thought much of it, at the time. Could Hank be the one? Knowing the calls had been coming from the aquarium phone booth, she’d ran to the far window of the living room every evening to look out each time the phone rang hoping to catch a glimpse of the caller. There was never anyone there until the other night. She’d caught a brief glimpse of a short, stocky shadow moving away from the booth into a late model pickup truck. The dim figure hadn’t fit Hank’s physique, however - - - .
“Are you okay?” Luke’s familiar deep voice startled her, causing her to bang her left knee on the underside of the table with a thud. Thank goodness, she’d already replaced the papers. Of all the people she didn’t want to get caught by, Luke topped the list.
“Sure, I’m fine,” she replied as she tried to make her voice sound nonchalant while fearing she sounded thoroughly guilty. She wanted to tell Luke what she had found. How could she after making such a fuss about her advertising folder? He could have been telling her the truth and honestly happened on those documents by chance. She couldn’t say the same thing for herself.
“Where are Bernice and Hank? I thought they were helping you with the signup?”
“They went after something to drink.” Forcing her eyes to meet his, she lifted her chin in defiance. “Why are you here?”
“I thought I’d come down and see how registration was going. Also, I need to sign up.” His eyes sparked mischievously as his gaze scrutinized her. “This shindig is costing me money, you know.”
“Don’t you mean, both of us?”
“Yes, of course, both of us.” Locating the proper stack of papers, Sandra slapped a registration form in front of Luke. Here you are.”
The corners of Luke’s mouth turned under for a moment as he examined the form first, then Sandra. “I’ll take this with me and turn it in tomorrow before the skipper’s meeting.”
“Having second thoughts about racing tomorrow? I hear the competition is going to be pretty tough,” she goaded him.
“I’ll be here. As a matter of fact, I’m rather looking forward to it. I shipped in a new catamaran two days ago. I’m going to race her. I haven’t put the numbers on the sail yet, though. So, I’m not sure what they are. Okay?”
“Sure.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I heard you didn’t have crew.”
“I’ll find someone.” He studied her for a moment before a smile began to grace his generous lips. She could almost see the cogs of his mind turning to do verbal battle with her. “Why were mentioning it? Were you wanting to crew for me?” he challenged.
“Me?” she asked, innocently.
“Oh, I forgot the new owner of the Sea Breeze isn’t interested in sailing. All she’s concerned with is how much business she can steal from her competition.”
Her teeth clenched together as molten color formed in her face. “It might serve you well to take me seriously.”
“I’m not too worried, he stated solemnly. Then the generous corners of his smile turned into an ornery grin. “Is that what our night together was about? You sure have one hell of a technique for beating the competition,” he stated, determined to have her see how foolish her accusations were. If he were smart he’d walk away, but he cared what she thought.
“Don’t point your finger at me, Luke Caldwell. I’m not the guilty party here.”
“Neither am I. I came to sign up for a regatta, nothing more.”
“And find crew, don’t you mean?”
“I’m sure someone with guts and gumption will volunteer. Everybody likes to be on a winning boat.”
“My, you are sure of yourself.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone winning who didn’t think they could first. Why, I bet I could squeak out first prize even with crew as rough as you.”
“Are you trying to insult me?”
“No, merely stating you don’t know anything about sailing in a regatta.”
As she watched the twinkle in his blue eyes and the dimple in his chin, she knew he was enjoying the situation too much. He was baiting her.
“You want me to sail with you, I suppose?”
“Heavens no, I’d much prefer a more seasoned sailing companion. If I wanted to, however, I could manage to win this race with even you.”
“You’re so magnanimous,” she replied sarcastically. “I can hold my own on a sailboard. A catamaran can’t be any harder to sail than a board. After all, you get to sit down and play with two sails to find the wind. A board only has one and you have to stand throughout the race.”
“You’ve raced your sailboard?”
“Yes, I have. I won my share, too.” Sandra leaned in her chair and gloated. She enjoyed surprising Luke with her expertise. The truth be known, she had only sailed in a handful of regattas and her win was third place. He didn’t need to know that, however.
“Well then, you must crew for me.”
Sandra bit the side of her lip. She’d walked straight into his trap. Hearing footsteps, she glanced up to see Bernice and Hank returning with their refreshments.
“Luke, I’m so glad to see you,” Bernice called across the room.
“What’s going on buddy?” Hank asked, supplying his hand for Luke to shake.
“I was trying to talk Sandra here into crewing for me. Did you know she’s an experienced sailboard racer?
Bernice’s eyes shot open wide and her jaw fell lack with suspicion. “No, I didn’t. She’s crewing for you tomorrow, you say?”
“Would you all stop talking like I’m not sitting here?” Sandra snapped with a smile.
“I didn’t mean any harm, dear. It’s just . . . well . . . Luke’s pretty aggressive out on the course.”
“And, you don’t think I can handle it, right?”
“Now honey, I didn’t say - - - .”
“You didn’t have to. Luke, I’ll be happy to race with you. You’re right, you will win.”
Bernice and Hank exchanged discerning glances. By any chance, have you heard the weather forecast for tomorrow yet?” Hank asked Luke in an acidic tone.
Sandra felt her stomach knot. She’d certainly plastered her foot in her mouth now.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Luke had his boat rigged and ready to race long before the procession of last minute arrivals started to file onto the beach. Pacing through the sugary sand, he examined the shiny new catamaran from bow to stern with critical appraisal. He didn’t want any surprises out on the water. Not today. Not with Sandra onboard. Regardless of her sailboard expertise, it would be a tough day for her. Not everyone possessed the endurance or the nerve required to race catamarans. He shouldn’t have goaded her into crewing for him. It seemed like the best solution at the time. He might have to pull out of the race, but at least he’d have some time alone with Sandra.
As he stopped in front of the boat, his gaze ran up the mast and out over the mainsail. Studying the sail’s gentle movement, he took in everything. The quarter inch strips of orange fabric he had attached to the sail only the night before danced crisply in the breeze. He reasoned, the wind was blowing about 5 miles per hour with c
lear skies. He studied the horizon. Scattered clouds dotted the blue sky while the midmorning beams of sunlight played tag along the beach. The only sign of rain was a small thunderhead gaining strength out at sea.
Would Sandra be able to tough it out if the wind did get up to 15 or 20 miles per hour or more by the time the race was completed? He wanted her on his boat. He wanted her to know how much he cared about sailing, how much he cared about her. You are a fool, Luke, he prodded himself. All you’re going to accomplish is scaring the daylights out of her. She’ll never trust you, then.
Uneasiness settled in on his thoughts and he walked the length of the boat again. This time he stopped at the stern of the boat and analyzed the rudders. Yes, he’d remembered to put on the chicken line for her. He rarely used one himself. When the waves hit hard, though, having the small line in your hand could mean the difference between staying on the boat or being swept off.
A knot formed in his throat. He’d never felt so uncomfortable about taking someone out on a boat before. Granted, he didn’t make a habit of choosing unseasoned crew, but he had raced with complete novices before. Sandra wasn’t just crew, though. She was Sandra.
When they’d gone out before, she’d done a great job handling the jib. Perhaps his fretting would be for nothing. She might even have forgotten about his invitation, he thought, as he hung his thumbs into the belt loops of his shorts and rocked back onto his heels. He could always find someone else to crew for him or sail by himself.
Unhooking his thumbs, he moved to the middle of the cat and leaned over the trampoline to test the main and jib line blocks. Each clicked its approval as the ropes glided over their surfaces until they met the cleat. Smiling to himself, he continued to examine the barber hauler and the downhaul. Heaven help him, he loved to sail.
What would her reaction be to the race? What if something did happen to her? He had talked her into it, knowing she didn’t want to go out with him. He couldn’t think of any other way to break through the bulletproof glass she had cemented between them. He’d helped to fortify the barrier by not calling her before he left on the cruise. He’d meant to call her. The trouble was, he couldn’t figure out what to say to her. Hi, Sandra. Just called to tell you that I am falling in love with you and by the way, you are definitely not a one night stand. Further, I’d appreciate it if you’d trust me from now on because it’s not your business I’m after. Granted, he could probably have found more tactful ways to put his feelings.
Luke shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and scowled. You’ve got to go for it, he told himself. You’re a good sailor. And, she’s a lot tougher than she looks. The only prize he wanted to take home from the regatta was Sandra. If he scared her, he would simply forfeit the race.
Hearing the pad of approaching footsteps in the sand, Luke looked up the rise. His gaze settled on the woman who haunted his dreams. He admired the fluid motion of her long legs and the lightness of her steps. Standing before him, Sandra smiled. He felt his chest warm as though sunshine had penetrated every pore. This woman was a mystery. He had expected her to still be mad at him from the other night.
“Hi. Bernice is setting up the registration now. She sent me down here to check in with you and remind you, as your crew, you need to finish signing up for the race,” she said and shook her finger at him in a teasing gesture of reproof.
“She did? Then I take it, you’re still willing to put your life in my hands and crew for me?” Luke’s gaze wandered from Sandra’s green eyes down her long neck to the V of her bathing suit top. He savored the touch of fire he watched spread upon her cheeks.
“I’d hardly put it so dramatically. After all, you’ve saved my life once. Why would you drag me out of the bay just to let me drown in a race?”
“Does that mean you trust . . . my sailing abilities?”
“That means, I’m willing to trust you.”
“I didn’t know if you’d really show up after our argument the other day.”
“If I commit to something, Luke Caldwell, you can be assured, I’ll be there,” she stated meeting his eyes.
“Yes, but you were awfully upset the other day.”
“Luke, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped at you. I acted out of reflex and then I was just embarrassed.” She raked her hand through her hair and exhaled a long labored breath. “All my working life it’s always been such a fight to hang onto anything worth having. If you had an original marketing idea, you kept it quiet until you could meet with the highest executive possible above you. Likely as not, whoever you submitted your idea to would take full credit for it. I’ve been burned far too many times not to be gun shy.”
“Let’s forget it for now and concentrate on the race,” Luke said. His hand reached out as though to caress her face and stopped. “Acting as my appointed crew, would you go finish my registration? All they need is my sail number.”
Sandra looked up to the iridescent white main with royal blue numbers. Orange telltales streamed over the white fabric. Their soft movements reminded Sandra of hawks gliding through a warm Oklahoma summer’s sky. “Twenty-five thirty two,” she read out loud. “It is beautiful.”
“Hot off the assembly line,” Luke replied as he stroked the glossy white surface of the boat’s hull with obvious affection. Sparks of excitement radiated from his cool blue eyes. His mouth appeared so sensuous, full and enticing.
“She doesn’t even have a name yet. You and I will be the first to put her in the water and through her paces.” A mischievous grin formed on his lips. “That is, if you sign us up.” Sandra felt a warm rush of embarrassment. Did he know how irresistible he looked right now? she wondered.
“I’ll get right to it, skipper,” she replied with an exaggerated salute. Luke returned her slapstick gesture and she turned to leave.
“Find out when they’re holding the skipper’s meeting,” he called out to her.
Peering back at him over her shoulder, she smiled in reply. A tingle of excitement skipped in her stomach. It’s a perfect day, she thought. The wind is calm. The sun is warm. And, he did think of her as a capable partner. After all, he wouldn’t have wanted her as crew if he thought she couldn’t handle it. A day racing a catamaran on the ocean was not the same as sailing a sailboard on an inland lake. There would be currents to fight and waves to drive through. He knew all of that. He must think she could handle it. You’ll have fun, she told herself as she picked up her step. It will be good for the business to be a part of the racing scene here, too.
After registering the boat’s number, Sandra wandered back down to the beach. She recognized a number of the fleet members whom she’d met at the shop. No one seemed surprised to see her dressed to go out. Even Jenny waved a good natured greeting to Sandra as she walked past. Biting at her lower lip, she was relieved no one appeared to notice how nervous she felt. Crews and skippers alike were much too preoccupied with rigging their boats to perfection.
Approaching, she could see Luke working over the boat. Standing unnoticed at the stern, near the rudders, Sandra took the opportunity to examine Luke’s bare shoulders. Tight skin covered well defined back muscles as he moved to adjust the front sail. The waist of his sky blue shorts hung loose exposing a mere trace of untanned flesh below. As her eyes glided downward, she found herself admiring the definition of his buttocks and legs. She knew from experience they’d feel as hard under her touch as they looked.
Without warning, Luke turned towards her. “There you are.” He raised an eyebrow and grinned as Sandra felt her neck flush. “Come over here and give me a hand with this.”
“That’s a swivel shackle, isn’t it?”
“You’re catching on,” he said as he pushed the silver part towards the jib.
“Thanks. Oh, I almost forgot, the skippers’ meeting is at nine o’clock.”
Luke looked down at his watch. “We’ve about ten minutes then until it starts.”
“Do the crew attend?”
“I thought you said you’d
raced before?”
“I have. It’s hard to put crew on a sailboard, though.”
“I suppose you have a point. Here, hold this right here for me,” he told her as he went to attach the jib.
Sandra brushed his hand lightly as she grasped the swivel. A warm tingle ran up her arm and down her spine to her toes. It had been the same way the first night they’d met, she thought. Had her body been aware of this man’s attraction even then?
She watched his long fingers manipulate the ring-ding. The thin circular piece of stainless steel fit into the hole which attached the leach of the jib to the forestay. Sandra couldn’t help but wonder if the man who had invented key chains had also invented ring-dings. They looked so much alike. A loud horn sounded interrupting her thoughts.
“It’s time of the skipper’s meeting,” Luke announced as he twisted the ring-ding into place. “Let’s go.” He crossed in front of the hull and placed his hand on Sandra’s shoulder.
All the racers gathered underneath a big red striped tent. An air of anticipation mingled with smiles and laughter filled the open space. A tall, thin man who looked to be more at home on a California surfboard than a race committee boat stood on a large wooden crate. He waved his hands over his head to flag the crowd.
“May I have your attention?” the man called out to the rambunctious crowd. “We’ll be running three races. The type of races to be run will be posted on the committee boat. The marks are already in place. We have a good course set up for you today.” Hesitating as though he expected someone to interrupt him or applaud, he looked out over the tent full of people with obvious pride. “We’ll have the standard 15 minute race flags up. We’re scheduled to get underway by 11:00 a.m.”
“Let’s get started,” someone yelled from the back.
“Before we head out,” the speaker continued, while holding his hands up for the crowd to wait. “Let me remind everyone to be careful of the fishing nets. There are several trawlers out today. They usually stay away from the race course; however, some of you may find yourself going out a bit farther on the windward mark. So, be careful.
Sea Star Legacy Page 24
