by Sarah Morgan
“Sounds like fun.” He cast a look at Emily and saw shades of pale under the bright smile. It was her skin color that made up his mind. “Why don’t I take you myself?”
Emily shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I know you’re busy.”
Ryan thought about the meeting he had scheduled with the multimillionaire yacht owner who wanted to negotiate the fee for using the Ocean Club facilities. He’d been looking forward to the cut and thrust of a negotiation that would end in him taking a generous chunk of the guy’s money, but the anticipation was clouded by the thought of what might happen if Emily had a panic attack while Doug was in the middle of the bay. “Doug crams as many people on the boat as he can to make money. Sometimes the kids can’t even see properly. You’d be more comfortable with me.”
“There isn’t—”
“I want to go with Ryan! Please?” Lizzy was visibly excited at the proposed change of plan, and Ryan drew Emily aside. He breathed in the scent of blossoms and lemons and wondered why he was doing this to himself.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“A boat trip? Yes. I promised.”
And she would never break a promise, he knew that.
“Then let me take you.”
“No, but thank you for offering.”
“Are you refusing because of what happened in the pool?”
Her gaze skidded to his and away again. “I’m refusing because this is a child-centered day, and you have better things to do with your time.”
He certainly had other things to do with his time. Whether they were better or not, he wasn’t sure. “I can manage one boat trip, Emily. I’ll make sure you’re both safe, and you can wear life jackets the whole time. You’ll be happier, I promise.” He saw her gaze flicker to the tourist boat where Doug was taking money from people as they boarded. The boat was filling up, and he knew that it was going to be at full capacity. “With me, if you discover you hate it, or if she hates it, we can turn around any time and come back to the harbor. You can’t do that with Doug.”
“I thought you sailed a flashy racing boat.”
“I do, but I’ll borrow Alec’s sloop. It’s a traditional wooden boat. You’ll love it.”
Her expression told him she didn’t think there was anything to love about boats. “Lizzy isn’t too young for that type of boat?”
“I took Rachel sailing for the first time when she was four. Spent a whole summer teaching her knots. Bowlines, hitches, figure of eights. By the time she was eight she was sailing a Sunfish by herself.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“It’s a dinghy. It has a habit of capsizing.” Remembering made him smile and then he saw she’d turned green. “Alec’s boat is stable.”
“It doesn’t need a crew to sail it?”
“I can sail it alone. And I’d be happy to take a couple of passengers.” He saw her glance from Lizzy to the now heaving boat in the harbor.
“Well—if you’re sure. Thank you.”
Ryan glanced at his watch. “Can you give me an hour? I’ll meet you at the marina.” He figured that would give him time to part the multimillionaire from enough of his cash to ensure the Ocean Club had a good summer.
*
AN HOUR LATER Emily stood nervously at the marina, listening to the clink and creak of masts and the shriek of seagulls.
Was she crazy?
Learning to swim had given her a confidence boost, but not for a moment did she kid herself that swimming in a calm pool under Ryan’s watchful gaze would be anything like swimming in the choppy waters of Penobscot Bay. If Lizzy fell overboard, she doubted her ability to save her.
The only thing stopping her from backing out was the knowledge that this was her problem, not Lizzy’s.
Emily had spoken to the grief counselor regularly and been advised that outdoor activities were to be encouraged. Since Lizzy had started her swimming lessons with Rachel, there had been no more bad dreams, and she was sleeping in her own bed.
“There’s Ryan! And he brought Cocoa.” She sprinted toward him before Emily could stop her.
“Lizzy!” Her heart rate doubled, but she saw Ryan lengthen his stride and scoop the child into the safety of his arms.
“No running by the water. You might fall.”
“Yes, Captain Ryan.” Lizzy was grinning and wriggling like a fish in a net. As soon as Ryan put her down, Cocoa was in her arms.
Emily watched as dog and child greeted each other with mutual adoration. “The dog has her own life jacket?”
“Everyone does. Let’s start with Lizzy.” Once Lizzy was wearing a life jacket, he turned to Emily. “You’re going to wear this the whole time, and if you don’t feel safe or you want me to turn back, tell me.” He secured the jacket with strong, sure hands, and she thought to herself that feeling safe had more to do with the way he made her feel than a flotation device.
“If Lizzy falls in—”
“She’s not going to fall in.” His hands were firm on her waist, his gaze holding hers. “Do you trust me?”
It was hard to focus on anything when he was standing this close to her. She dropped her gaze, but that move gave her an eyeful of his chest and biceps.
“Yes, but even you can’t control the sea.”
“But I can ensure Lizzy’s safety.” He tightened the life jacket “And yours.”
“You have to sail the boat, and if she falls in—”
“No one is going to fall in. Unless you’re planning on stripping down to that red swimsuit, in which case it will be a case of man overboard, and you’ll be rescuing me.” Beneath the mild humor, she heard male appreciation and felt her stomach drop.
He was the only man who had ever made her feel this way, and she had no idea how to handle her feelings.
He whistled to Cocoa who clearly recognized it as some sort of signal because she wagged her tail enthusiastically and sprang onto the boat.
Next he scooped up Lizzy and put her safely on the deck with instructions to sit down and not move until he told her what to do, and finally he held out his hand to Emily.
The rise and fall of the boat mirrored the feeling in her stomach. “I could have spent the afternoon painting or making jewelry.”
“Which would have been a thousand times more boring than going to see seals and puffins.” Letting go of her hand, Ryan picked up a short length of rope from a bag he’d put on the deck.
“We’re going to see puffins!” Lizzy was finding it hard to keep her bottom on the seat.
“Yes, but first you’re going to learn to tie a knot, because all good sailors learn knots.” He squatted down in front of the child with the rope in his hands. “Watch closely. First you make a rabbit hole—“ he formed a loop with the rope “—out comes the rabbit, around the tree, back down the hole.” He showed her again and then handed the length of rope to Lizzy, who copied it perfectly.
“Like that?”
“Great job.” He stood up. “Keep practicing.”
He maneuvered the boat skillfully out of the marina, guided it through the markers and out into the bay. He stood easily on the deck, loose-limbed and relaxed as he absorbed the rise and fall of the boat. As they left the sheltered harbor of the island, Emily felt the wind pick up and gripped the seat, but there was something undeniably magical about being out on the water with the sunlight dancing over the surface of the sea.
She decided that if he was relaxed, then maybe she could be, too. She forced the tension from her muscles and took a few breaths.
Ryan pointed the boat into the wind, and it rocked gently while he hauled up the sails, first one, then another. Then he returned to the wheel, adjusted the angle and worked the lines until the wind filled the sails, and the boat seemed to come alive in the water. And then they were moving, skimming the surface of the water at a speed that took her breath away. It felt like flying, and Emily felt a sharp stab of anxiety. Then he turned his head and shot her a smile, and anxiety gave way
to exhilaration. The wind whipped at her hair, and the spray of the sea showered her skin, and in that brief moment she understood why so many considered sailing to be the ultimate adventure. There was a rhythm to it that she hadn’t expected, a beauty to the curve of the sails and the gleam of sunshine on the polished wooden deck.
Ryan stood at the wheel, legs apart and braced against the rise and fall of the boat as he judged tide and wind. He sailed along the rocky coast of Puffin Island, past the lighthouse that guarded the rocks by Shipwreck Cove, and across the inlet. They saw large houses tucked along the shoreline, children exploring the mysteries of the tide pools. From here she could see where the forest touched the sea and rocky outcrops that provided home to a variety of nesting seabirds.
It was a clear day, with not a hint of the fog that had a habit of shrouding the sea in the summer months.
As they sailed away from the island toward Puffin Rock he pointed out Castaway Cottage and Shell Bay.
He allowed Lizzy to steer the boat, an offer that resurrected Emily’s anxiety until she saw him put the little girl between himself and the wheel and cover her hands with his.
They dropped anchor in a little cove, and Ryan pointed out a seal pup and its mother lying on a sunny ledge.
“Take a look at the puffins.” He helped Lizzy adjust binoculars. “Puffins only come on land when they’re breeding.”
“They live on the sea?”
“Yes. They’re skilled divers, and, here’s the coolest thing of all—” he crouched down behind her, helping her focus in the right place “—when they’re flying, they beat their wings up to four hundred times a minute and reach speeds of around fifty miles an hour.”
“How do you know?”
“Because biologists study them.” Ryan took the binoculars from her, and Lizzy peered over the side of the boat.
“My mom said I should be an actor or a ballerina, but I think I might want to be a biologist or the captain of a boat and do this every day. Can women be captains?”
“Women can be anything they want to be.” Ryan handed the binoculars back to her, and Emily thought again that for a man who didn’t want the responsibility of children, he was remarkably good with them.
Ryan opened the cooler, and they ate a picnic of delicious sandwiches he’d ordered from the kitchen of the Ocean Club, and then sailed the boat farther out into the bay before giving both of them a brief lesson on tacking.
It made her happy to see how much Lizzy was enjoying herself. She was swift and nimble in the boat and a fast learner.
Emily found it more exciting than she would ever have imagined. It was impossible to picture anything bad happening while Ryan was in charge, so she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of spray on her face, the warmth of the sun and the smell of the sea. By the time they arrived back at the marina, she’d decided that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want to move to Wyoming.
Ryan sprang off the boat, secured it and then reached for Lizzy. “How does pizza sound?”
“I’m going for a sleepover.”
“It’s the twins’ birthday,” Emily explained as he glanced at her in surprise, “and she really wanted to.” And she was trying hard not to show how nervous she was about it. One of the hardest things about parenthood, she was discovering, was not transferring her own hang-ups to Lizzy.
“You’re not meant to call them ‘the twins.’” Lizzy grabbed Cocoa. “They’re separate people.”
“You’re right. Thank you for reminding me. It’s just that ‘twins’ is so much quicker to say than ‘Summer and Harry.’”
“We’re going to eat pizza, birthday cake and then watch a movie in our pajamas.”
“Sounds like a perfect evening.” Ryan strolled across to Emily and took her hand as she stepped off the boat. “So, you’re on your own tonight.” The way he said it made her heart beat faster.
“Yes.”
“Have dinner with me.” He spoke quietly, checking that Lizzy was still occupied with Cocoa. “I’ll book a table at The Galleon. Fine dining. Candles. Lobster. Adult company.”
The invitation took her breath away.
The three years she’d spent with Neil hadn’t prepared her for the intensity of feelings, and she wasn’t naive enough to think that an evening with Ryan would end with dinner.
“You wouldn’t be able to get a table at this short notice in the summer.”
“Are you looking for an excuse to say no?”
“No, but people book months in advance, the moment they know they’re coming on holiday.”
He simply smiled. “So, is that a yes?”
“I’m covered in sea spray and I’m a mess.”
His gaze traveled slowly from her hair to her mouth. “Option one,” he murmured, “is for you to shower at my place.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Ryan—”
“Option two is that you go back to the cottage and change.”
“Or there’s option three,” she croaked, “which is that I stay home alone.”
His eyes were hooded. “I didn’t give you an option three.”
They’d reached a crossroads. A point where a decision had to be made.
Feeling as if she were plunging into the deep end of the swimming pool, she took a deep breath. “I’ll take option two.”
As she dropped Lizzy off with Lisa and the twins, she felt like a teenager on her first date, and the nerves increased as she drove back to the cottage to shower and change. By the time she walked up the steps to Ryan’s apartment, she felt slightly sick, and the feeling intensified as he opened the door.
This wasn’t an afternoon with Lizzy as the focus. It wasn’t a swimming lesson where the objective was improving her stroke and confidence in water. This was a date. Just the two of them. Man and woman.
Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Don’t tell me—you’ve spent the last two hours thinking of all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Maybe it’s a mistake.”
“Maybe.” He stood to one side to let her in. “But most mistakes don’t smell the way you do, so I’m willing to take that chance. I have champagne in the fridge. Hopefully that will numb your panic.”
Was it panic? She wasn’t sure. It felt more like excitement with a heavy dose of nerves. It was the first time she’d been in his home, and it took her breath away. Acres of glass offered spectacular views over the bay, and the setting sun sent slivers of gold across the darkening ocean. The place was designed to make you feel as if you were part of the scenery, not just an observer. You could almost smell the sea and feel the wind in your hair. It should have unsettled her, but didn’t. Maybe it was because she was slowly getting used to the sea, or maybe it was because from up here it felt as if they were suspended above it, safe from the dangerous lash of the waves.
As for the apartment, the decor was exactly as she would have predicted: sophisticated, minimalist and masculine, everything chosen for its clean lines and simplicity. The kitchen area was a gleaming run of polished steel, sleek and practical. The walls that weren’t glass were lined with bookcases, and in one corner a spiral staircase wound its way up to a sleeping shelf.
“What’s up there? Your bedroom?”
“No. An obscenely large TV and my state-of-the-art sound system.”
She laughed. “It’s amazing.” It was also the least child-friendly apartment she’d ever seen. “It has the feel of a loft. This will probably surprise you, but I could sit and look at this view all day.”
“Me, too. Sometimes I’m tempted to do just that. Then I remind myself that if I don’t get off my butt and earn money, I won’t be able to afford to look at the view.” He stood next to her, his shoulder brushing against hers. “When I was in the hospital, I thought about this place all the time. Even as a kid I knew these buildings had potential. I used to lie there, planning what I’d do with it. It took my mind off the pain.”
“You’ve built a successful business.”
“Win
ters are still lean, but even they are picking up since we started to pull in the winter outdoor crowd. And a few artists have shown interest in renting these apartments for the winter months. North light. I’m lucky to be able to build a life here.” He strolled across to the fridge, removed a bottle and scooped two slender stemmed glasses from one of the cabinets.
“What are we celebrating?”
“The fact that you’ve learned to swim? Your first boat trip? Your first night without a six-year-old sleeping in the room next door? Adult time? The list of possibilities is endless.” Under his gentle persuasion the cork came free with a gentle pop, and he poured the champagne and handed her a glass. “Or maybe we should drink to courage.”
“Courage?”
“Swimming, sailing and sleepover. Knowing how hard all of those things must have been for you, I think it’s an appropriate toast.”
Remembering the vicious scars on his shoulder she decided he wasn’t low on courage himself. “I loved the sailing. And you were so patient with Lizzy.”
“She’s a great kid. Gutsy, funny—she reminds me a little of Rachel at the same age. Were you scared to let her go tonight?”
“Yes. But she wanted to do it so badly, and I trust Lisa.”
“Does she know the truth?”
“About Lizzy’s identity, yes. She had a bad experience with journalists herself, so she was sympathetic.” She wondered if she’d been tactless given his past profession, but he shook his head, reading her mind.
“I’m not about to defend the actions of the guy you told me about.”
“It’s been almost a month. Do you think they could still come?”
“It’s less likely with every day that passes.”
She stared down into her glass, watching the bubbles rise. “It’s weird. This is the first time I’ve been on my own for a month, and instead of feeling free, I miss her.”
“Kids have a habit of sneaking up on you. Before you know it, they’ve hooked you and you can’t get free.” He finished his champagne. “We should leave. They’re holding our table.”
The Galleon restaurant was situated a short walk from the harbor, with views over the ocean and the passing yachts. Despite the island location, or perhaps because of it, they’d managed to secure themselves a reputation as one of the top restaurants in Maine. They operated six months of the year, and during the winter months the owner and chef, Sallyanne Fisher, spent time traveling the world on the hunt for new recipes. As a result the menu was eclectic and interesting.
