Storms of Passion

by Lori Power

  “Why? Because, I’m female?” Vivian’s tone came out more cranky than intended. She regretted her tone instantly, however, she had quite a day where her body ached in tune with her pounding head, and there just wasn’t enough headache medication to cover the pounding.

  Randy eyed her, taking a marginal step back. “No.” He drew out the word. “Because you have never done it before.”

  Which was, of course, the obvious answer and made Vivian feel bad for her smart remark. She smiled in what she hoped was an apologetic manner to compensate. The smile took as much effort as everything else she did today. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need. Many a day I went to sea with a split head. When the trawlers use to come in here, oh, we were a rowdy bunch,” he said and began to walk away. “Whiskey is you’re drink is it?” He chuckled hardily.

  Her hand flew to her cheek, mortified. Wasn’t it bad enough that she had to live with the small snatches of embarrassing memories that assaulted her pounding head, but to find out that others knew about how she made a fool of herself, was beyond humiliation. What was I thinking? What I did last night was both foolish and dangerous.

  Walking away, in the opposite direction, represented a better solution to her embarrassment than engaging in any conversation on the topic. Vivian made her way back to the Inn, slowly progressing toward the Mariner’s Roost, while trying not to think of Tuck. She failed to stop thinking of the way his arms surrounded her, the way his lips caressed hers, and the way she had responded with abandon.

  “It was the whiskey.” Vivian frowned.

  Even with Mike, she had been reserved. She always held back. Why not with Tuck? Holding back wasn’t an option with him. Whenever he was around she wanted him and devil be damned the consequences. It was so unlike her typical response to men, she didn’t know what to make of the situation.

  As though her thoughts had conjured him, the devil himself strode her way. Where’s that crack in the Earth when I need it? If there had been a bush or a tree to duck behind she would have done just that. The easy gait, the long stride, the life by the tail attitude that seemed to radiate from Tuck was a natural attraction for Vivian who craved that kind of let-go attitude. But she had been schooled to be cautious. Her father taught her to think and determine, assess the risks first.

  Shit, Tuck saw her. Lifting his hand in salute, he walked toward her. “Hey, you.” Tuck smiled.

  Oh, that smile. So much for hiding. She longed to suffer through her pain and humiliation in private. Feeling heat rise over her face, her mind was blank of polite conversation. How could she explain last night’s events? Aside from the fact she couldn’t remember most of it and the snatches that she did, she would prefer to forget.

  Tuck stopped directly in front of her. His silvery eyes gazed into hers as he reached out to touch her face. “Don’t sweat it. It happens.”

  She focused on the ground, his gaze too intense to bear. “Your eye.” She glanced up through the cover of her lashes at the small gash above his eyebrow and the faint, but distinguishable blue, purple, yellowing bruise along his brow bone. “I…I’m so sorry.”

  “I’ve had worse done and not even for so worthy a cause.” Tuck removed his hand from her face to cup her chin, forcing her to meet his eye. Grey eyes seemed to see straight to the depths of her being.

  “Really?” Vivian regretted the word as soon as it crossed her lips.

  Tuck laughed. “Heading back to the Inn? I’ll walk with you.”

  They walked in silence until Vivian stopped at the gate, her brain flooded with memories she’d prefer not to process or remember. Heated emanated from her every pore, she was sure she was aflame. Resting her hand on the gate’s latch was more to sustain balance than the need to go. Desire ignited her core, leaving her at a loss at what to say or do.

  Tuck covered her hand with his, pausing her retreat. “I’d like to see you again.” He circled the inside of her wrist with his thumb. Her pulse jumped when his voice lowered. “You seemed to like my guitar playing. I could play for you, if you like?”

  She glanced down, noticing the scuff on her otherwise white boat shoes. She swallowed. “I would.” Vivian nodded. “You do play beautifully.”

  “Thank you.” His thumb continued its sensuous massage. When his thumb hesitated, she raised her eyes to his puzzled expression. He regarded her intently, seeming to read her every thought, making her feel like an open book. “You must be tired. How about tomorrow evening?”

  “I’d like that.”

  ****

  Back in her room, Vivian took deep cleansing breaths, enjoying the momentary solace. A soft knock on the door made her think Tuck had changed his mind. Maybe he wanted to spend this evening with me instead.

  She opened the door a bit too eager to see the plump face of Mrs. Parson’s, still flushed from the excursions of the day. “We were wondering if you would like to have dinner with your fellow sailors this evening?”

  “Of course. Just let me change.”

  Clad in a casual, yellow sundress, Vivian made her way to the foyer to join the others.

  Dinner turned out to be a lovely affair, which was comforting to her confused sensibilities and a diversion from her scrambled deliberations. She never had a one-night stand, let alone planned one out in advance, but that is exactly what she was planning for tomorrow night. There was no way she could resist Tuck and she didn’t want to. She never had a fling. She was not the type of person who would hook-up with someone and then leave as though it had never happened. Had she really kissed Tuck with such complete abandon? What if he hadn’t stopped? What’s come over me? Had he wrangled her away from that big man on the dance floor?

  Just forget about it. Toss the night up to what it was, one night of crazy. Even Marcy said Vivian tended to over-think and over-analysis everything. Everyone was entitled one night of crazy, right?

  Always a lover of good stories, Vivian learned a lot of about her fellow crewmates during dinner. The pounding in her head finally gave way to the ache of her muscles.

  “Well, at least you’re in shape.” Mrs. Parson’s round face smiled. “My poor old body hasn’t worked like that since the kids were small.”

  Putting his arm around his wife’s shoulders, Mr. Parson’s replied, “Nonsense.” He tugged his wife close. “You’re in fine shape.”

  Vivian marveled at their closeness. Married thirty-seven years, yet they seemed as much in love as she imagined they were when they were young. She liked to muse about happy ever after. That’s why she loved the romance genre at the publishing house. The love the Parson’s shared is what Vivian wanted—a marriage that was strong and lasted, a union of people who stayed together because they wanted to be together, not because they felt they should, or that it was easier to stay than to walk away. Her parents didn’t seem to have what the Parson’s had, at least not from Vivian’s vantage point. Her parents always struck her as staying together because it took too much energy and effort to make the change.

  The Jordan’s were much like the Parson’s, having grown closer as they got older. The Matthew’s, on the other hand, were as opposite the others as a couple could get. Mrs. Matthews, Linda, had the air of superiority. She was someone who snipped and complained about everything from the size of the table to which they sat, to the state of the boat they would be soon boarding for their sailing cruise.

  “I don’t know.” Linda complained, her thin, pinched face contorting with dissatisfaction. “The people in charge just don’t seem very competent. It’s certainly not what I expected.”

  Leaning forward on the table, Vivian rested her elbows as she picked up her tea. “What did you expect?” She tried to participate in the conversation. She had taken on the role of peacemaker of sorts, getting to know the MacLean’s a bit better than the rest. Vivian felt obligated to find out the reason for the woman’s displeasure and see if it could be remedied. She understood all too well that negative attitudes were infectious and if Linda continued, her atti
tude would infect the rest as well. “I really didn’t know what to expect either, but they seem to be doing a good job with the demonstrations. We have to be safe. We paid to learn and they have an obligation to teach.”

  Vivian wasn’t being harsh, but she did feel compelled to defend Lynette and Randy, who worked so hard. They were so warm and giving, Vivian couldn’t stand for people to criticize unnecessarily.

  Nodding her pumpkin orange, short curls, Clara Parson’s smiled. “I agree. Arthur and I have done everything from skydiving to hitchhiking across the states and this couple, the Captain and his wife, are as nice as they come.”

  Having effectively shut Linda down, as people like her would only continue when she had people to feed off, Vivian asked about the many adventures the couples had shared. Howard and Janie Jordan were a relatively shy couple, studious, both accountants and resembled the part, but they smiled lots and were happy to share how every year they played tourist roulette.

  Clara’s eyes widened. “Tourist roulette?” Her face lit with curiosity.

  “That’s what we call it now. Our kids started it for us years ago. They originally called it the Holiday Wheel. The kids said we were too uptight and had to live a little.” Janie reached out and tentatively touched Howard’s hand. “Now we travel at the end of every tax season.”

  Smiling at his wife, Howard continued. “We have this wheel. The kids made it when they were youngsters and I can’t see us ever throwing it away, no matter how beat up it gets.”

  The Jordan’s had four kids who had been apparently unsatisfied with their parent’s all-work-and-no-play attitude, so they made the holiday wheel, which Howard and Janie renamed, Tourist Roulette. After tax season, their kids bring out the wheel to help determine the family vacation.

  Howard laughed, grabbing his wife’s hand to share the cherished memory. “Remember, Janie dear, that first year when all that was on the wheel were cruises, and something else. I can’t remember, but it had something to do with famous mouse.”

  “They wanted to go to a big amusement park like all their friends.” She smiled warmly at her husband. “Terrible that they had to convince us though.”

  “Oh well, we got the message and they get their annual vacation.” He chuckled. “Now that we’re nearer retirement, we actually keep the tradition and we all go on a big family vacation once a year. Janie and I go on a separate one, just the two of us.”

  Watching as the couple gazed at each other, Vivian experienced an internal sigh as her heart melted. That’s what it’s all about. The love and companionship between this couple was almost palpable.

  Everyone at the table exchanged stories about children, grand children, and adventures, to what they had in common and what they did for a living.

  Vivian marveled how placing any group of people together in one spot for a period of time meant eventually, no matter what kind of rough start they may have, people will find common ground.

  Clara and Linda flanked Vivian as they all walked back to the Inn. The men walked slightly ahead, engrossed in some sport debate over the miss of the competition runner and the conspiracy theory.

  “That Nate is a looker,” Clara said.

  “Too bad he’s married,” Linda added.

  “To his high school sweetheart, though.” Janie smiled.

  Clara squeezed Vivian’s arm. “I hear Nate has a brother. A twin. Bound to be a looker too. I have only seen him from a distance. He’s some sort of bookworm. I picked that up from Ethel.” She winked in response to Vivian’s sidelong glance.

  “He’s a computer programmer,” Vivian answered.

  “Oh, so you met him!” Clara clapped her hands eagerly, her small body bouncing with excitement of the prospect of being a matchmaker.

  “Only briefly.” Vivian lied, trying to downplay the conversation and thinking of ways to change the subject. She lightly rubbed her fingers along her lips, remembering Tuck’s lips on hers.

  “No special someone for you, dear?” Janie asked.

  “No, not now. There was someone.” Vivian was content and comfortable with these women, and didn’t mind sharing a bit of person information. “But it ended up he wasn’t that special.”

  “Don’t you worry.” Linda patted Vivian’s back. “The right one is just around the corner. You’ll see.”

  The air was fresh and clean, and the company most excellent. Pleasantly tired at the evening’s end, Vivian snuggled cozily into her goose down, duvet-covered bed, stretching her tired and sore muscles.

  ****

  Randy tapped Tuck’s shoulder, rounding the family dining table to set the tray of barbequed steaks and burgers in the middle. “She’s a stunner, son,” he said with a knowing wink, lifting a particularly large steak off the pile. “Smart too.”

  Tuck stared at the tray of meat, waiting for his father to lay the tongs back. Using his knife and fork, he sliced into a thick cut to see the red on the inside. His father had a habit of either over or under cooking the meat. Tuck found one, charred on the outside and blood red on the inside, just the way he likes it. He lifted the juicy piece of Alberta beef off the tray.

  Nate frowned, acknowledging that Tuck was deliberately silent. “I didn’t know what to expect.” He placed a burger on each of the kids’ plates before offering the tray to Emily. She and his mother were always the last to sit at the table. “I told Emily, prior to Vivian’s arrival, that a single gal was coming to learn sailing, so we might as well put the zoo sign out and say the cougar has arrived.”

  Emily slapped his arm. “That’s mean. I told you that then, and I tell you again in front of the family.”

  Nate tossed her a boyish smile, continuing. “But Dad is right, Vivian is smart. She doesn’t flirt and she’s not all about look at me. She seems very genuine on wanting to learn how to sail.”

  “Of course she is. What a chauvinist you are.” Emily loaded her potato with sour cream and chives. “Oh, what’s with you and cougars,” she said between bites. “Why’s it okay for men to check out women, but a single female checking out a man she’s labeled as on the prowl. Tuck is single and he goes to the Tavern weekly…”

  Tuck coughed, almost choking on the large forkful of steak in his mouth. He held up his hand while he took a drink of iced tea. “Hold up there.” He coughed again. “I didn’t say a word, so why pick on me? And I go to the Tavern to play guitar.”

  “Sure you do, and men go to strip clubs for the fashion show.” Emily shot back.

  “Not the men in this house,” his mother said, standing and glancing around the table.

  “Oh Ma, you know we don’t.” Nate laughed.

  Emily held a piece of potato on the end of her fork undeterred. “I am sure Tuck gets lucky at the Tavern once in a while.” She nailed him with her doe-eyed gaze and smiled. “You forget what a small town we live in. People talk.”

  Tuck wisely refrained from commenting, so the conversation continued around him while he sat back and enjoyed the great food and family banter.

  His mother cleared a few dishes from the table and brought them to the kitchen. “Well, I think Vivian is just lovely. She’s well mannered, charming, and very curious about everything.”

  The aroma of the deep-dish, apple pie heralded his mother’s re-entry. “Oh Randy, I forgot the ice cream.”

  “I’m on it.” Tuck’s father wiped the crumbs from his bushy beard with his napkin before jumping up.

  Serving the slices of pie, his mother continued. “Well, I’m just saying, I liked her from the first and there’ll be no more comparison to cougars where Vivian is concerned.” She raised a brow at Nate, and Emily chuckled.

  His father resumed his seat, scooping a generous helping of ice cream for every plate. “I agree.” He bit into his pie. “Ma, you sure can cook.” He swallowed his mouthful and held his fork paused above his plate. “Vivian asks lots of questions and not stupid ones either. She really wants to know how to sail.” He dove his fork back into his pie. “Tucker, you’re
being awfully quiet this evening. It wouldn’t hurt for you to get to know a nice girl like Vivian.”

  The door closed behind Tuck, announcing the arrival of cousin Billy.

  “You adding match maker to list of services offered to clients, are ya captain?” Tuck didn’t want to continue this conversation with his family. He didn’t need his family’s input before he had the chance to determine if they were even compatible.

  “Ah, well, when lightning strikes, as they say,” Randy said through another mouthful of pie.

  Billy filled his plate with a burger, potato, and corn. “Fancy lot it would do him, Vivian lives on the other side of the country.” The younger man added just when Tuck hoped the conversation might peter out.

  Emily pushed her plate aside, having only eaten half of her pie. “I wouldn’t worry about distance,” she said as Nate quickly dragged her unfinished plate toward him. “When it’s right, it’s right. The location is here and the timing is now.” She smiled at Tuck and then turned to Billy. “You get those results on your exams yet, Billy?”

  As Billy launched into his discussion on school, Tuck rose from his chair. “Well, that does it for me.” He took his pie with him. “When you all decide how my love life is going to turn out, you let me know.”

  Tuck settled on the swing on the front porch and had only taken a couple bites of the most delicious apple pie when his brother joined him.

  “Sorry, man,” Nate began, sitting down on the opposite side of the swing, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “Vivian is a looker though. You can’t blame us for wanting someone good for you.”

  “You can try sucking up all you want. I am not parting with my pie.” Tuck laughed.

  Nate joined Tuck’s laughter, moving the swing to and fro with his long legs. “It’s been two years since your divorce. Isn’t it time to move on?”

  “Are you talking about me moving on or getting it on,” Tuck said between mouthfuls. “Let’s not forget, we just met her and yet everyone assumes we’re a match made in heaven.”