Making a Splash

by Joanne Rock

  Jack had become annoyed with himself when he realized he was heading home on the weekends just to see her, and he’d made a hell of an effort to stay away, knowing she was still too young for him. Not in terms of years, but in terms of where they were in life. She was still getting her education, while he was out on his own, taking trips to Europe for his job as VP of global properties.

  He’d succeeded in putting distance between them right up until her junior year, when she’d pitched in to handle the PR for a charity golf tournament at one of his father’s resorts when the promotions director had been sick. Jack had been drafted by the family to help her, since he’d been in town. And seeing her in that light—professional and capable—had forced him to stop thinking of her as a kid. Still, he wouldn’t have acted on the attraction if she hadn’t come to him out on the golf course when he’d been picking up the flag sticks that night with his brother Ryan.

  Ryan had read the signals and left them alone, but not before daring Jack to make a move on her.

  Alicia had him outmaneuvered even then, making a no-holds-barred play for him on the ninth hole. And she’d been as assertive on a personal level as she’d always been on the playing field…?.

  “The party was—” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Food was good.” He pulled a six-pack of drinks from the bag and a few snacks. “But it can’t compare to grape soda and chocolate Pop-Tarts.”

  “Perfect.” She snagged the box from him and opened it while he retrieved a glass and poured her drink over ice.

  Then he filled a second one for himself.

  “So…cheers to our northern voyage?” He kept her glass hostage while she thought about it.

  “You’re impossible.” She chewed her pastry and narrowed her gaze again. “You know I can’t eat this without something to wash it down.”

  “Guess you’d better hurry up and see we’re going to make this trip together.”

  Still she left him hanging.

  “We ought to sketch out some ground rules,” she said finally, setting her snack back on the foil package.

  “You think that’s necessary?” He didn’t like the sound of “rules” when it came to her. He’d imposed a list as long as his arm where she was concerned in the past, and look how that had turned out.

  “First—” she held up a finger, ignoring his question “—no kissing.”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was going with him, right? He’d have to find more imaginative ways to make her remember how good they could be together.

  He nodded.

  “Second.” Her middle finger joined the pointer. “Separate beds.”

  “What kind of guy do you think I am?”

  “It doesn’t hurt to spell out our expectations.”

  “You’re just scared you’ll jump me again if we end up between the sheets.” Begrudgingly, he handed her the soda, hoping the list was almost done. “I’m afraid to hear the rest of the rules.”

  “There’s just one more.” She set the drink on the table between them. “I really debated on this last item. Should rule number three be that you wear a shirt all the time?”

  He couldn’t have held back his grin if his life depended on it. He’d definitely spend this trip half-dressed.

  “What’s the alternative?”

  “That you occasionally let me steer the ship.” Folding her arms, she planted her elbows on the table. For all intents and purposes it looked as if she was staring him down.

  “I already told you I’m glad to have another hand on deck.” He knew she couldn’t read all the controls on the helm, but she’d been on enough boats to spot him if he wanted a rest.

  “You have a hard time giving up control,” she reminded him. Absently, she spun the grape soda on the table, almost as if to remind him she could walk away from this deal at any moment. “I’d like some assurance that I can weigh in on the captain’s decisions.”

  “You want to second-guess me.”

  “They’re good rules, Jack.” She picked up her glass and tipped it in his direction. “What do you say?”

  “I say cheers.” He clinked his drink to hers before she could change her mind. “Bon voyage.”

  Taking a sip, she eyed him warily over the rim.

  “I certainly hope so.”

  SEATED ON THE FORWARD deck the next morning, the fall sun warming her face as they sped through wide-open blue sea, Alicia wondered if she would have made the same decision to sail with Jack by the clear light of day. With hours between waking up in bed with him and making her choice.

  She couldn’t pretend the attraction between them hadn’t played into her agreeing to go with him to Bar Harbor. No matter how much she told herself she’d gotten over him, feeling her heart race at his presence, experiencing the sharp hunger for him that she’d never had for another man, had urged her to find out what the heck had gone so wrong between them. How did they end up so hurt and angry with each other? And why had the universe dropped this irresistible man in her path—for a second time—when they were too stubborn to get along?

  Maybe relationships were like swimming. Practice enough, and eventually you improved your times. Not that she planned to practice with Jack Murphy. He’d crushed her heart enough for one lifetime, thank you very much. But perhaps she could discover what had really sent him running four years ago. Because all that BS about her being too young? Total smoke screen. She hadn’t bought it then and she didn’t buy it now.

  She peered over one shoulder to where he manned the wheel, looking like a modern-day pirate with a blue-and-white bandanna tied around his head and a day’s growth of beard on his jaw. He wore khaki cargoes and a white linen shirt that he’d neglected to button much higher than his navel. The fabric flapped in the breeze as they cut through the waves.

  He’d slept off and on after sunrise, giving the wheel to her and showing her the most basic navigation skills so he could catch up on some rest. After they’d made their pact the night before, she’d fallen into a hard sleep until dawn, while Jack had taken the night shift at the helm. Now, well past noon, he was back in charge of the boat and she was faced with the consequences of her late-night agreement with him.

  Noticing her looking his way, he grinned.

  “Regretting the no-kissing rule already, aren’t you?” he called over the noise of the engine.

  “Hardly.” She was actually patting herself on the back for that one. No sense giving him any advantages when the man had too much to work with already. “I was just wondering when I should let you in on my real reason for agreeing to this trip with you.”

  She wouldn’t, of course. Jack was probably at the top of the list of men in his family who wouldn’t appreciate soul-searching in the name of self-improvement—or in the name of enlightening an old girlfriend. Although possibly he’d share that top slot with his brother Daniel—the family rebel. At least the other brothers had learned how to put a socially acceptable facade atop all the he-man aggressiveness that ran in the family.

  “What do you mean?” Jack’s frown was so pronounced it would probably leave wrinkles.

  Well, now she’d have to tell him something…?.

  Pushing to her feet, she scooted along the wooden walkway that circled the bow, and stepped down into the saloon area behind the helm. There was a built-in settee and table under a hardtop cover that provided protection from the sun in hot weather or kept the captain out of the wind on a cooler voyage.

  “I figured it would be a good idea to pick your brain about opening a bed-and-breakfast in a new town. I would have quizzed Keith about it if he’d taken me on this trip, but since I’ve got you…”

  “You can pick all you want, but I’m no expert anymore.” He settled in the captain’s chair, sitting sideways to talk to her. The boat easily handled the small swells of the warm September afternoon in the Atlantic, and didn’t need too much attention. “I quit my job at Murphy Resorts when I went into the service.”

  “But rumor has it you�
�ve started investing in bars all over the Cape. Sounds to me like you’ve still got a hand in the hospitality industry.”

  “I figured I’d keep my money in the local economy while I chart my next move. It’s been an adjustment since coming out of the service.”

  Surprised at the admission from a man who rarely admitted anything in life had ever been difficult for him, Alicia left the comment alone for now. Had he liked navy life? Maybe he’d been drawn to it for more reasons than just an escape.

  And damn, but didn’t it paint her as self-centered for never having considered that before? Curiosity niggled.

  “Active in your dad’s business or not, you know a lot about the hospitality scene.” She tapped a fingernail on the plastic tabletop, inhaling the clean scent of the ocean. “What things would you look for in a bed-and-breakfast at a new location?”

  She’d take advice wherever she could get it, since she was determined to make a go of this business on her own, away from her father’s continued insistence that he knew what was best for her.

  “B and Bs are a whole different ball game than the resorts my family have specialized in,” Jack cautioned, signaling to a sleek superyacht that cruised past, dwarfing them.

  “I’m very aware of that. Go out on a limb for me, okay?” As their boat bobbed in the wake of the bigger craft, she was vaguely surprised at his need to downplay his expertise, so at odds with the arrogance she had come to associate with him. What other changes might she uncover during the course of their journey together?

  “I’d make sure this market supported other bed-and-breakfast establishments and that they’re more than half-full eight months of the year. Then I’d want to know what would make my inn stand out among the competing properties.” When he had their boat steadied again, he returned his full attention to her. “B and Bs aren’t cash cows. They’re labors of love for most people. Are you going to have the income to stay well ahead of the mortgage?”

  “I’ve got a subsidiary income opportunity in mind.” She wasn’t ready to give up her water-sports business completely. Besides, she needed something to make her property distinctive. She needed this project to succeed. “What else? Any time of year that’s better for openings? And it’s an older place with some smaller rooms. Would you combine some of them to make more spacious quarters when finances allow, or pitch the place as ‘cozy’ and try to make it work with the smaller rooms?”

  “Whoa.” He left the captain’s chair and slid into the seat across from her at the built-in table. The steering controls were still within reach if he stretched. “You’re really serious about this? About opening a business on your own in Maine, of all places?”

  “Of course I’m serious.” She tugged down the brim of the camouflage canvas fishing hat she’d worn to protect her from the sun. She didn’t think she had much space left for more freckles. “I’ve researched this property every way possible without actually seeing it. And what have you got against Maine?”

  “It’s far away and I’ve never heard you say anything about wanting to live in Maine.”

  And since when had they discussed her future? Even when they’d been dating, that had been a topic Jack avoided like the plague.

  “Sometimes it’s good to put space between yourself and where you grew up, right?” She didn’t think he could argue that, considering the choice he’d made.

  “Sure. But you love it on the Cape.”

  As opposed to Jack, who’d spent half the time they were dating on another continent.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a lot of competition for tourist dollars there. And your family runs a tight ship. I don’t think I’m ready to battle with the Murphy clan in the business world.” She’d considered that kind of venture. But it would mean living in Jack’s backyard. Circulating in his family’s world. “Bad enough I could kick your butt at sports. I couldn’t demean you in business as well.”

  “Ally, I’m serious.” He wasn’t letting her off the hook about this. “It’s going to be tough enough starting a business alone. Why travel so far from your roots to make it happen? Why not give yourself the support system of your friends and family?”

  She felt herself stiffen, her pride bristling at the thought of her father or brother coming near her project. But she had asked Jack for his input. Damn it, she’d wanted advice about how to handle the inn in Bar Harbor, not all the reasons she shouldn’t buy it. She tipped her face into the ocean breeze and took a deep breath to try to soften her tone.

  “My family is a far cry from yours, Jack.” Her father was a workaholic who’d driven her mom away long ago with his tunnel-vision dedication to his job and his habit of manipulating his kids like chess pieces. Her older brother, and only sibling, had stuck around. But he seemed content to follow in their father’s footsteps, commuting daily into Boston or New York to a job that required most of his time.

  When her brother wasn’t working overtime to add to his bottom line, he indulged in his favorite hobby—telling Alicia how to live her life.

  “But they interfere because they love you. You know that. I think you’ll miss being able to see them.” Jack’s green eyes appeared sincere, his expression heartfelt.

  A less wise woman might believe his worry on her behalf was sincere. But she understood that it wasn’t concern for her needs so much as an unrelenting belief that he knew what was best for everyone around him. Just as her father and her brother did.

  “While I appreciate you looking out for me, I’m not asking for help with the personal aspect of this.” As long as she liked the property as much in person as she did online, and could get the bank on board, she was closing this deal.

  “Have you even thought seriously about opening a place on the Cape, where you have connections?”

  Behind him, the ship radio squawked with a weather warning that made Jack check the sky and his watch. The storm clouds might be a few hours away, but as far as Alicia was concerned, Jack was already trying to rain on her parade.

  “What connections?” She shook her head. “I couldn’t afford a place on the Cape even if I wanted to stay there.”

  “I’ll back you,” he announced, rising from the built-in table to make adjustments on the boat’s automatic steering system.

  She wished her life had an auto steering function right about now because she was feeling more adrift by the moment, and Jack seemed determined to step in and take charge.

  “You’ll back me?” She parroted back the offer to be sure she’d heard correctly. “As in vouch for me to some corporate banker so I can borrow the bazillion dollars it would cost for a nice B and B property on the Cape? Even if you could convince someone to say yes, I wouldn’t be able to make a profit fast enough to pay that off. I don’t want that kind of pressure.”

  Most of all, she didn’t want to be in debt to Jack.

  “No pressure.” He turned the boat hard toward the west as he settled into the captain’s chair. “The loan would be from me.”

  For a second, she couldn’t catch her breath. Her throat felt as if she’d inhaled a bug off the breeze.

  “You can’t be serious.” How could he even consider such a thing? As tempting as it was to have the budget for a property that could be three times as profitable as the place she was looking at in Maine, she could never do business with her ex.

  Out of the question.

  He was jumping into her life and trying to take over. And they’d been back in each other’s presence for how long? Less than twenty-four hours.

  “I’ve already invested in a handful of places around the Cape and you’re a safer risk than some of them.” He gestured toward a control on the helm. “Can you flip that switch up?”

  Rising to her feet, she joined him by the helm and noticed from the chart plotter that he was headed toward Marina Bay, just south of Boston.

  “Where are we going?” Frowning, she remembered how tough it was to keep up with a man who didn’t share his plans or intentions, a man who
plowed through life on his own terms.

  “Storm’s coming. It’ll be safer to go inland for the night.”

  “Fine. You get to steer the boat, after all.” She ground her teeth together, trying to remain gracious. Patient. “But you’re not steering my life, and I’m still going to Bar Harbor to buy an inn. Alone.”

  She turned to make sure he got the message, and found they were closer than she thought. He’d stood beside the captain’s chair to snap a clear side curtain into place around the helm.

  “Sure,” he agreed easily before thrusting half the vinyl fabric into her arms. “We can talk about it over dinner.”

  Helping him spread out the material so they could fasten it on the side behind her, she reached high over her head to connect the snaps even though the sun was still shining.

  “Dinner?” Her stomach growled on cue as he finished the snaps on his side and leaned in to assist her with hers.

  Her hip grazed his thigh as their arms tangled at the task. Warmth sparked over her skin, her body clearly impressed with his. Then again, she’d given herself a healthy sample of what he felt like last night in bed. Getting things started without finishing them was bound to leave a woman frustrated.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, his fingers slow to finish the task while they stood so close, their arms raised.

  His green eyes turned smoky as he stared down at her, his chest a hairbreadth from her breasts.

  Hungry? Try ravenous.

  “I could go for something to eat,” she admitted, wondering why the sea had to be so calm right now when even a little wave would rock their bodies together. Quench her thirst for a quick feel of him.

  “Great. I’ll finish this up if you want to get ready. There’s a nice Italian place I know right on the water.”

  It took her a moment to realize he was being the perfect gentleman. Letting her go free without so much as a copped feel. Hastily, she lowered her arms. Tearing her eyes off Jack’s chest took a bit longer, but she managed it at last.