by Lisa Carter
She’d arranged their schedules so Jax had time to take Brody to the Pruitts’ house before arriving at the shop midday. Sticking to her resolve to avoid Jax whenever possible, she made sure her shift ended as soon as he arrived.
Afternoons, he oversaw Ozzie and Savannah’s tours. When the shop closed at five, he left to pick up Brody. And Chas came on board to conduct the ever-popular summer sunset or full-moon paddles. The latter were Jax’s idea, proving popular not only with the tourists, but locals, too.
She glanced out to the dock. On a clamming expedition, a family of six paddled behind Savannah. The line of kayaks soon emerged on the other side of the busy marina traffic, Ozzie in the rear.
Darcy drifted to the front window. Cars and trucks filled the Sandpiper parking lot. The usual crowd included her father, an honorary member of the ROMEOs—retired older men eating out.
She relished the simple rhythm of small town life. Was she crazy to long for somewhere else? Or was the longing not so much for another place as a longing for something—someone—else?
Darcy jolted when the bell above the door jingled. As Jax sauntered inside, the tranquility of the morning was broken.
She grimaced. “You’re early.”
He threw her an insolent grin. “Miss me?”
“Pitter patter goes my heart.”
His lips twitched. “I live to please.”
She sighed. With his cheeky grin, laughing eyes and wind-ruffled hair, Jax was all too pleasing to the eyes. Way too appealing for her peace of mind. This would not do. This would not do at all.
A niggle of panic wormed its way into her thoughts. Maybe she could turn the business over to him earlier than Labor Day. Keep her distance till then. She and Jax functioned best at arm’s length. Always had, always would.
She went over the details of the overnighter with him while they waited for the executives across the bay to arrive. A maroon van pulled into the parking lot.
“You’re on, Jax.” She gathered supplies in her arms. “Time for you to work that Pruitt charm.”
He cocked his head. “Does it work on you?”
She sniffed, heading outside.
The corporate execs, male and female, ranged in age from early thirties to late fifties. She and Jax spent the first few minutes gauging their experience in the water. They assigned kayaks, lined up on the shoreline like brightly colored crayons in a box.
Jax showed the group how to rotate their strokes, using the large muscles of their torsos to propel the blades through the water.
Standing next to Darcy, a petite brunette awkwardly rotated the blade of her smaller shafted paddle. “I spend my life trying to keep pace with these guys. Will I be able to do this?”
“One of the great things about kayaking is you don’t need much upper-arm strength to become an excellent paddler.” Darcy adjusted the strap on the woman’s PFD. “It’s all about technique, which we’ll teach you over the next few days.”
Packing the kayaks was an art form. Food, camping gear and the zip-top plastic bags to carry out the all-important toilet paper after necessity stops. Kiptohanock Kayaking prided itself on being a green company, leaving no trace behind on its seaside ecotours.
She explained to the group how to stow the dry bag with their most important possessions in the compartment behind the hatch. Including snack food for energy and water bottles to prevent dehydration. With coverage spotty along the coast, there was no need for cell phones.
“Everyone at some point is going to get wet,” Jax cautioned. “Therefore, we plan for it and learn how to recover from it.”
Her cue. She adjusted the floatable Croakie straps on her sunglasses behind her ears. She pushed the extra kayak they used to demonstrate a wet exit into the water and got in.
At her nod, he turned to the execs. “Hanging upside down in the water may seem terrifying at first...”
One of the men gave a nervous laugh. “At first?”
“Your goal is to remain calm and not panic.” Jax waded waist-deep into the water. “We’re going to demonstrate the best way to flip.”
The department supervisor crossed his arms. “Like there’s ever a good way to flip?”
More sheepish laughter sounded.
Darcy pressed the outside of her legs against the interior panels of the kayak. “Not panicking is key. Flipped kayaks can be righted with a little know-how.”
Jax placed his hands on the bow of her boat. “So when you sense the kayak becoming unbalanced, lean forward...”
Darcy slanted forward, until her forehead almost touched the deck.
“Maintain this tucked position while underwater. Hold your breath. Exhale through your nose.”
She pounded her hands on the hull of the craft. “It’s important to make some noise to alert your fellow kayakers about what’s happened.”
“Now we’re going to show you from beginning to end what to do.” His gaze darted to hers. “Ready?”
A not-so-tiny step toward trusting him. Her heart thudded. “Ready.”
When he flipped the boat, she went sideways and the murky water rushed to meet her. Though not unexpected, she still flinched at the coolness against her skin. And then she was upside down. Holding on to the kayak and using her hips, she completed the roll in a smooth motion. Her head cleared the water first.
Rivulets of water streamed down her face. Applause erupted. Although it had felt like she’d been underwater for a decade, the maneuver properly executed had her submerged less than five seconds. She blew a tendril of hair out of her eyes.
Jax’s brow creased. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.”
He pulled her ashore. “That’s not a news flash to me, Darce.” As he helped her out of the kayak his breath stirred her hair.
A sea breeze wafted, bringing the scents of sandalwood, sunscreen and him to her nostrils. Her cheeks heated. Arm’s length didn’t seem to be working. She retrieved her Squamish.
Once everyone got into the water, Jax kept the group in close formation. They made good time paddling north on the water trail. Pleased exclamations broke out as the kayaks rounded the lighthouse point.
Jax glided closer to Darcy. “You say a family lives there now?”
She rested her paddle across the cockpit, allowing the paddlers time for photos. “Caroline Duer’s husband, Weston Clark, renovated the lighthouse and keeper’s cottage a few years ago.”
Jax’s smile faltered. “I’ve missed more than I realized.”
“You and Brody will be back in the swing of things before you know it.” In the turquoise waters of the Keys, she’d be the one missing Kiptohanock. Not so happy a realization for Darcy.
Halfway between Kiptohanock and the famous Chincoteague ponies, he led the kayaks toward the uninhabited barrier island they used for overnighting.
Aiming for the beach, Darcy paddled hard until her kayak made contact with the sand. After jumping out, she helped the others beach their boats. In disembarking, more than one client got wet, though.
“No worries.” Jax dragged the kayaks higher, out of reach of the incoming tide. “Hardest thing about kayaking is getting in and getting out.”
He got everyone started on pitching the pup tents. Unpacking a dry sack she pulled from a storage compartment, Darcy held up a bag of marshmallows and a slew of chocolate bars. “S’mores after dinner.”
“Who doesn’t love chocolate?” He loaded his arms with pots and pans. “I should build a bonfire by the creek one night, Darce. I don’t think Brody’s ever had a s’more.”
She gathered the rest of the supplies. “He’d love that.”
“That’s not all he loves.” Jax chuckled. “You’ve made a place for yourself in his heart. Of course, he’s not the only one who appreciates Kiptohanock’s favorite PK.”
She trudged up the incline
without comment.
He unloaded near the blackened fire pit. “I’ll carry the Coleman next.”
She bristled. “I’m perfectly capable—”
“Don’t get your red hairs in a tizzy. I got it.”
She folded her arms. “I am not a redhead.”
His mouth quirked. “Sure you are.”
“I’m not.” And to prove it, she held a lock of hair to the sun. “Strawberry blonde. Emphasis on blonde.”
“Blonde...” He rolled his tongue in his cheek. “Whatever you say, Darce. I love it when you go all—” he made quote marks in the air with his fingers “—strawberry blonde on me.”
She pursed her lips.
“Your turn.” He winked. “Tell me what you love about me, Darce.”
She shifted, her feet sinking in the sandy soil. He was in one of his goading moods. Time to take Jax Pruitt’s ego down a peg or two.
“Like the I’m-God’s-gift-to-women attitude?” She curled her lip. “I think not.” She turned toward the brush. “We need sticks for the s’mores.”
“I’ll help.”
“You remind me of a sandbur, Jax.” She handed him a stick. “Tenaciously annoying. A real pain in the—”
He raised an eyebrow. “Such language from a PK.”
“—heel.” She smirked.
Jax’s lips curved. “So you’re saying I’m your Achilles’ heel.”
“You’re more like these sand fleas.” She swatted the air between them. “Irritating and...” She frowned.
“It’s okay to admit you like me, Darce.”
She recoiled. “Like you?”
He grinned, gathering more sticks. “You like a lot of things about me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Sure it is. You like my kid—”
“Probably the only thing likable about you, Jaxon, is your kid.”
“You liked my lime-green freezer pops.”
Her mouth rounded. “You gave up the lime-green freezer pop for me?”
Jax smiled, towering over her. “You like my mom and dad. You like my brothers and sister. You like my house.” He tilted his head. “You liked when I made a touchdown.”
She sucked in a breath, her eyes wide. He’d known that?
“You liked everything about me. Hence, you liked me. You liked when we played pirate and clashed swords—”
“Still do. I mean...” She gulped. “We still clash swords.”
He straightened, satisfaction written across his face. “Because you like me, Darcy.”
“I do not.” She jutted her chin. “You, Jaxon Pruitt, are a necessary evil to getting off the Shore for good.”
She’d like to wipe the smirk right off his face. She didn’t like Jaxon. Maybe once, she’d cared for the boy he’d been. But now?
Like seemed too small an emotion for the way he made her feel. But if not like, then what was left? She certainly didn’t love him. Did she?
Gasping, she turned and fell face-first across a log laying on the path.
“Darcy!”
Of all the humiliating—
“Darcy, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she growled, spitting sand. Pushing her palms against the ground, she rolled onto her side.
The others peered over Jax’s shoulder. She scowled. She’d made a spectacle of herself. “Give me room.”
He reached for her. “Darce...”
Using her knee, she pushed to her feet. A sharp pain shot through her ankle. Her leg buckled, but he caught her arm in his strong grip.
“You’re not fine,” he grunted.
Darcy flushed twelve shades of red.
“Stop being stubborn and let me help you.” Cupping her elbow, he pressed her against his side. “You’re hurt. Don’t make things worse.”
Tears stung her eyelids. Why did everything always go wrong when she was with Jax?
His tone softened. “Darcy...please...”
There wasn’t a woman alive who could resist Jax when he used that cajoling, sweet tone. Herself included. Who was she kidding? Herself most of all.
Why her most of all? Probably because Jax was so seldom sweet. Seldom allowing anyone to see the genuine kindness behind the always charming, devil-may-care attitude he donned like Kevlar.
It was a sweetness his son possessed in spades. A sweetness she’d not glimpsed since that long-ago summer when—
She took a shuddery breath. “Don’t need an audience, Jax.”
“You heard the boss, ladies and gentlemen. She’s fine. Get those tents up.”
The execs drifted away.
Her eyebrow rose. “Boss, huh?”
“I am your humble servant.”
“Since when?”
He wound his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck. She placed her palm on his chest to shove him away. But when she felt the pounding of his heart, she didn’t push.
“Since...” He leaned closer. A muscle throbbed in his cheek. His gaze lingered on her lips. But he removed his hand, plucking a stray leaf out of her hair.
“I’m a mess.” She probably smelled of bug spray and sweat. No wonder she didn’t have a boyfriend.
His eyes crinkled, the skin fanning at the corners. “I like messes.”
The Pruitt charm, she told herself, fighting not to blush.
“I want to take a look at your ankle to make sure you’re really okay and not just being your usual obstinate self.”
“So touched by your concern, Jax.” But with a firm grip on his arm, she hopped on her good leg and allowed him to lead her toward the clearing around the fire pit.
He fell to his knees beside her. “Let me see.” He bent over her foot.
She inhaled sharply as he eased off her Croc.
His head snapped up. “I didn’t mean to hurt—”
“Sorry to be such a drama queen.”
His forehead puckered. “You’re the toughest girl I know. But you don’t have to hide your feelings.” He rested his hands on his knees. “Not with me.”
If only that were true.
“Try to rotate your ankle.”
Wincing, she complied.
“I don’t think it’s broken.” His fingers, warm on her skin, stroked her foot. “I think you may’ve sprained it. We’re going to have to RICE it.”
She gritted her teeth. “I know the drill. Rest, ice, compress and elevate.”
He sat on his heels. “Not so fun when the shoe is on the other foot, huh?”
“You took my shoe.” She glared. “I hate being one of those helpless females.”
Jax laughed. “You’ve never been helpless in your life, Darcy Parks. As for female?”
His quick, stomach-quivering grin robbed her of breath. “I’ve always been glad you weren’t one of the boys, Darce.”
She also wasn’t accustomed to having other people waiting on her.
“Get used to it,” he growled, and insisted she remain stationary against the driftwood log he propped behind her back.
Then he made dinner. Her shoulders sagged. What good was she? Jax and Kiptohanock Kayaking didn’t need her anymore.
After dinner, he drifted down beside her on the sand. Everyone gathered around the bonfire to roast marshmallows and make s’mores. Resulting in lots of laughter, melted chocolate and gooey fingers.
“If you don’t mind...” She darted her eyes at Jax. “Since my mouth still works...”
“Ain’t that the truth.” He mashed a toasted marshmallow between two graham crackers.
She ignored him. “I’d like to share with y’all a few Eastern Shore legends.”
He smiled as she told stories ranging from pirates—they both liked pirates—to tales they’d heard from their grandparents about German U boats. Eventually, the weary
corporate kayakers trooped off to their tents. An easy, companionable silence fell.
She ought to get some sleep, but made no real attempt to leave the beach. Water lapped against the shore. Frogs croaked in the maritime forest. From somewhere in the dark, the scent of honeysuckle floated. Very nice. Very summer.
Who was she kidding? Jax’s long legs stretched out beside her made the beach more than nice tonight. His shoulder brushed against hers, and Darcy’s heart raced. Get a grip.
This was Jax.
Exactly. This was Jax.
She needed to move away. What had happened to keeping her distance? Good thing she’d be gone in a few months. She slumped against the log.
Jax broke the silence first. “The only downside to guiding these multiday excursions?” He impaled the stick into the sand. “I miss Brody.”
Forgetting her no-touching policy, she rubbed his arm. “Give him a few years and Brody will be able to go with you.”
“Next time maybe Dad could drive Brody here.” Jax stared at her hand. “And he could spend the night in the tent with me.”
Jax made no attempt to move. The firelight flickered across his face, outlining the rugged bone structure. His handsome mouth...
Darcy fought the urge to finger the cleft in his chin. How many lonely nights had she spent wishing, dreaming, for someone like Jax to share the bonfire with? Truth be told, not just someone... Her breath hitched. Unconsciously, had she been wishing for Jax?
“Whatever happened to the adventurous girl pirate who was going to kayak the Amazon? Surf the North Shore? Hike the Inca Trail?”
“You remember that?” She blew out a breath. “Pretty silly, huh?”
“Not silly. It’s who you are, Darce.” He stared into the flickering flames. “I like who you are.”
She swallowed. “Thank you, Jax. I like... I—I appreciate you sharing your freezer pops with me.”
“Don’t strain yourself, Darce.”
She took a deep breath. “And I appreciate you sharing your mom and your dad. Your house. Your sister and brothers.”
“I appreciate you sharing the tree house with us.” He cleared his throat. “With me.”
“You’re welcome.”
