by Lynne Silver
He looked at her to see her reaction.
She giggled and pulled Carlos to his feet. Also in Spanish, she told him he was a clown, and that the recipe was her grandmother’s. Then she looked to him and in English said, “Drew, did you know Carlos and I went to the same elementary school?”
No, he definitely didn’t know that, because if he had, he would’ve never invited stupid Carlos on the boat. Maybe he could arrange to hit a sandbar at an inconvenient time, knocking Carlos overboard?
“That’s so cool,” Radha said. “Did you know each other?”
“Well, I was a grade older than him,” Olivia explained. “But we know a lot of the same people.”
Of course they did, and she’d bring him home to meet her overprotective father who’d love Carlos and his Latin American family, and he’d call the church to book a date for the wedding.
He shook his head. It couldn’t matter to him in the least, because he had a strictly professional relationship with Olivia. At best they were friends. If she wanted to date Carlos, he should be happy for them.
He shouldn’t want to leave Carlos on one of the many tiny islands that got covered with ocean at high tide. “Let’s fish,” he said abruptly. Fishing was his religion, where he found comfort for his soul.
He showed Radha how to slow down the boat, cut the engines, and drop anchor. Getting the boat ready to fish also forced Carlos to help out and leave Olivia’s side.
“You can swim off the front,” he told all the women. “We’ll fish off the back. Try not to go back there. Don’t want you getting hooked.”
Radha, Bibi, and Rebecca were already jumping off the front of the boat. Brodie made them laugh when he splashed in too and doggy paddled around. It was a hot day, and the water in these parts was clear and enticing. Olivia remained behind still in her clothes.
“You don’t want to swim?” he asked, almost roughly. He needed time to regain his equilibrium. He’d stupidly invited both Radha and Olivia out, and to his surprise, the woman he’d been chasing for the past month wasn’t holding his attention the way Olivia was.
Sure, Radha was gorgeous and smart, but she didn’t get under his skin with kindness the way Olivia did. Since she’d started working with his mother, he’d revealed more about himself to her than he had to any other woman. She needled at him and seemed to get him. What was even crazier was the fact that he wanted her to get to him.
On days when she wasn’t working at his apartment, he would remember bits of conversation or events and mentally bookmark them to share with her later.
“Will you teach me to fish?” she asked, almost shyly.
He looked from her to Carlos, who’d moved away and was rummaging through his tackle box, to make sure it was him she was asking and not her new best friend.
“Yes, you,” she confirmed. “The way you taught me to snake a drain. You’re a good teacher.”
“Grab a rod,” he said, gesturing to the three, “and get over here.”
He baited the hook for her, admiring her for not being squeamish with the blue-grey cold shrimp.
“I can do it next time,” she said. “I’m a nurse. I see worse things than this all the time.”
“True.” He lined himself up directly behind her to show her how to cast and release. His arms were wrapped around her sides, and they were pressed intimately together, her back to his front. This time the woman pressed against him felt perfect. Right height, right shape, even the right scent.
“Back up,” she said.
He inhaled the smell of her shampoo. “Am I making you nervous?”
“Hah. No, you’re copping a feel.”
“Maybe, but if I move back, I risk getting hooked in the eye when you cast.”
Her neck swiveled, as she questioned the validity of his statement. The movement put her lips a bare inch from his. If he leaned down a fraction, they’d be kissing. Again.
His board shorts started getting uncomfortably tight in the crotch as the rest of the people on the boat fell away, leaving only his awareness of her. He swore, or maybe it was simply hope, that she was as aware of him as he was of her.
Carlos’s voice interrupted the moment. “Are you letting this loser teach you how to fish? He doesn’t know jack. You should’ve asked me.”
Olivia jerked her head away from his to look at Carlos, and visibly forced a teasing smile on her face. “Oh?”
Drew stared at the shape her lips made around the word. He should’ve kissed her when he had the chance, but instead he had to respect her wishes, and she’d told him they had to retain a professional relationship so long as she was his mother’s nurse. Maybe he should fire her. It couldn’t be that hard to find another reliable, competent nurse that his mother liked, right?
Carlos came over and lightly shoved Drew out of the way. “Here, I find holding the rod like this to be helpful.”
Carlos adjusted her hands on the edge of the rod, and you’d have to be the most innocent virgin in the world not to catch the phallic, sexual nature of the position. He didn’t want to watch, so instead he grabbed another rod, baiting the hook almost violently, and earning a nick on his thumb for his carelessness. “Shit,” he muttered.
“You cut yourself,” Olivia said.
“It’s nothing. Normal fishing mishap.” He pressed his bleeding thumb to the rag he kept around for when they caught a fish, and expertly cast with his free, non-injured hand.”
“Drew, it’s bleeding badly. Let me wrap it. I brought a first-aid kit.”
“Of course you did,” he muttered.
She ignored his request to leave it alone, and handed off her fishing rod to Carlos, then hurried to where he’d left her bag and pulled out a small red kit. Within seconds, she had latex gloves snapped on with an efficiency that shouldn’t have been sexy, but instead had him pressing his front up against the hard, uncomfortable edge of his boat to hide his growing arousal.
“Turn around,” she ordered from where she’d moved to stand directly behind him.
He closed his eyes and prayed for a giant sharktopus or something to breach alongside the boat, distracting her from him. No luck. He turned, hoping she would be focused on his hand and not any of his other protruding body parts.
“Here.” He held out his thumb, almost in her face, and she bent over it, wiping it carefully with gauze, then quickly wrapping it with a clean waterproof bandage dabbed with a little ointment.
“There. All done.” She smiled at him, then looked startled when he didn’t return her easy smile. She lost the smile. “I think I’m going to swim now.” She stepped back, making him instantly crave her closeness again. “You’re welcome.” She gave a pointed look at his professionally bandaged thumb.
She was at the front of the boat, pulling her tank top over her head, before he said to her back, “Thank you.”
He stared as she lowered her jean shorts, then adjusted her bikini bottom over the most perfect ass he’d ever seen.
“Stop staring,” Carlos said, and he pulled his gaze away from the sight of Olivia jumping off the front. “It’s like that, is it? Sorry, man, I didn’t know or I wouldn’t have made a move.”
He glared at Carlos. “It’s not like anything. We’re friends. She’s my mother’s nurse.”
“So you said. But you like her.”
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because she thinks I’m a man whore who only cares about himself and will never settle down.”
“She said that to you?”
He shrugged. “More or less.”
“Or is that what you think about yourself?”
“Jesus, Los. Didn’t know masters programs in hospitality made you take psychology classes.”
Carlos gave an easy grin. “Bartender. Part therapist. She doesn’t know you speak Spanish, does she?”
“No.”
He laughed. “Man, will she be pissed when she finds out. You should tell her now.”
�
�It doesn’t fucking matter, Carlos. She’s my mother’s nurse, and she’s nothing to me. Whether or not I speak Swahili doesn’t register with her.”
“Keep lying to yourself, dude. Maybe someday you’ll believe it. The girl matters to you and it kills you, because you know she’s a good girl. She’s not one of the easy ones from the club who want nothing more than a fun night with you. Olivia requires care and commitment.”
“Of course I fucking know that, but it doesn’t fucking matter, because I’m not the guy to give her that commitment.”
“Why not?” Carlos asked, simply. “You could be, but you’ll never know if you won’t even try.”
Drew didn’t know how to respond. Carlos had a point. Why couldn’t he be the kind of guy who was in a monogamous relationship? Just because he’d never done it before didn’t mean he was incapable. The question was whether he wanted to be that guy. Before he could answer, his fishing line grew taut with the familiar, thrilling tug. “Fish on,” he called.
Instantly, he and Carlos were all business, working together to reel in a nice-sized mahi. It took all their concentration, which was what he wanted because he didn’t want to continue discussing what he might or might not be for Olivia.
The bitch of it was that he knew Carlos was right. For all that Olivia protested that nothing could happen between them, she was as sexually attracted to him as he was to her. If he went after her, he potentially could overwhelm her innocence with his experience and have her naked in his bed.
But he didn’t want to do that. For one, he didn’t underestimate her intelligence. She might be sexually innocent, but she wasn’t naïve. And two, he wanted her to make an informed decision and then decide that sex with him would be worth it.
The question was whether he could be the man she needed. No, the real question was whether he wanted to be the man she needed.
“He likes you,” Radha said, swimming up to her.
“Who? Carlos? He’s flirting. Harmless.”
“I meant Drew.”
Olivia stopped midstroke and sank a little under the water. “Drew? He does not. It’s you he likes. Hasn’t he been chasing you for more than a month?”
“No,” Radha said. “Not really. I’ve barely received a text from him in the last month. Ever since…” She raised a meaningful, perfect brow.
Ever since she’d entered his life as his mother’s nurse, she finished in her head. “I think you’re wrong. He’s a natural flirt. I don’t think he can help himself.”
“Agreed,” she said. “Only he doesn’t flirt with you. He glares at you and scowls and stares.”
She stopped treading water for a second and got a face full of ocean as a thank you. She was about to deny Radha’s assertion, but she realized there was truth to it. And she responded in kind. They sniped at each other like an old married couple, but when they stopped arguing and circling each other long enough to talk, they connected at a deeper level than she ever had with anyone outside her family.
At that moment, Carlos leaned over the edge and grinned down at them. “Lunchtime. Anyone hungry?”
She realized she was starving and began to swim for the boat. Carlos hauled her back on board and handed her a towel. “Thanks,” she said, wrapping it around herself, trying to be unobtrusive as she looked for Drew.
Not stealthy enough, because Carlos said, “He’s in the back cleaning the fish.”
“Cleaning the…fish?” she repeated.
“Yeah. Did you want to eat a bony dirty fish for lunch?”
She felt her eyes widen. “We’re eating the fish he just caught? Is that safe?”
Carlos chuckled, as he helped Bibi back on board. “What do you think, city slicker? Where do you think the fish at the market come from? The farm?”
“Most do,” Radha said, climbing on board easily without any assistance and joining the conversation. “Fish farms.”
“I know where fish come from,” Olivia said. “But I thought he’d throw back anything he caught and we’d have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or something for lunch.”
Carlos shook his head and said in Spanish that his family, generations of fishermen, were rolling in their ocean graves. Then he gave her a gentle push toward the back of the boat. “Go keep Drew company. I’ll keep everyone else up here.”
She started to argue, but then realized that’s what she wanted, so she tightened the towel around her body and carefully walked to where Drew was kneeling on deck, efficiently cleaning the fish and the deck of blood. “Eesh, that’s messier than a trauma room.”
He looked up and smiled. “Can be.”
Then, she didn’t know what made her do it, but she lowered her towel to wrap it around her waist, pleased when Drew’s gaze on her intensified and darkened. She realized she’d removed her top and jumped into the ocean before he’d had a chance to see her in her bikini. His gaze on her made her aware of the amount of skin showing, especially her cleavage.
“Can you open the cooler?” he asked in a voice that was an octave lower than usual.
“Huh? Oh.” She looked around, spotting a small cooler off to the side. She opened it to see it was full of ice. Drew rose and dropped the fish in. She shut the lid and looked at him to see he was already looking at her. They stood inches apart, her in a tiny bikini and him in board shorts. He’d removed his shirt at some point while she’d been swimming.
She’d seen his body before the night they’d shared a bed, but out here with the sun directly overhead, his skin was bronzed and lickable. She wanted to run her fingers over the muscled pads of his pectorals and lick the flat discs of his nipples. She’d been chaste for so long, she’d forgotten what good old-fashioned desire felt like.
This desire was nothing like the flash of wanting she’d had with the many high school boys. That had been the longing of a girl mostly wrapped up in the emotion of wanting to be liked by the guy. What she felt for Drew was a woman’s need to touch, to taste and be consumed by a man.
“You’re getting red,” she said, daring to run a fingertip along the muscle of his shoulder.
He flicked his glance sideways. “Hazard of boating,” he said. “I always miss a spot. Will you get it for me?”
Mutely she nodded, and went over to get the plastic tube of sunscreen she’d shoved in her beach bag. “Sit or I won’t be able to reach.”
He nodded and sat on the co-captain’s chair. Behind him they could hear the chatter and laughter from the rest of the gang on board. Brodie was up front with the rest of the gang hoping for someone to drop one of the chips they were snacking on.
But in this moment, there was only the two of them. She remained on her feet as she squeezed a dollop of white cream on her palm and then put her hands on his shoulders as she wanted and began to rub in the lotion.
Part of her job was to rub in various creams and ointments on people, but none of her patients looked like Drew or felt like him under her palms. His skin was sun-warmed and taut. She kneaded and rubbed, wanting her hands all over his chest and back. When she’d covered his entire back, she brought her hands back to his shoulders. She was standing between the V in his thighs now, chest to chest. “Should I…” She gulped. “Should I get your chest?”
Their gazes locked, and he shook his head. “You’re getting burned, too. I’ll get you.”
In answer, she turned and gave him her back. A tiny part of her had thought about agreeing and remaining facing him, basically inviting him to touch her breasts. But a poorly timed shout of laughter from Carlos reminded her they were not alone on the boat.
Drew’s big capable hands started on her shoulders and worked their way lower. He lifted the band of her black bikini to run under it, and she may have moaned a little. Behind her, she heard him suck in a breath.
What would they do if they were alone on his boat? What would she allow? She didn’t know, so she was grateful when Drew abruptly rose and gently moved her aside. “Time for lunch.”
He stalked to the back
, calling for Carlos to, “Come help with the fucking anchor.”
Olivia stood for a stunned moment in a sexual stupor, then shook it off and went to the front where Radha, Bibi, and Rebecca were seated, wrapped in towels, chatting.
Radha gave her a significant look. “Are you all sunscreened up then?”
She felt her cheeks heat. “The sun is strong in Miami. It’s important to keep reapplying.”
Radha smirked. “Especially with lotion. You two could’ve used the spray-on sunscreen, but no, you two wanted any excuse to touch.” She gave a head nod to the captain’s wheel, and Olivia jerked her head to see a spray-on can in the cup holder that would normally hold water.
She held her head in her hands and groaned. “I’m such a slut.”
“Don’t slut shame yourself,” Bibi said. “Drew is totally hot, and why shouldn’t you have fun with him?”
Olivia lifted her head to look at all three women who were looking back as if she’d done nothing wrong, and in their eyes, she hadn’t. She was a normal, healthy twenty-seven-year-old woman who should be dating a lot and experimenting with sex and trying out a lot of men. She knew her brother wasn’t hampered by the tight restrictions their parents had set, so why was she?
If she was sexually attracted to Drew, why shouldn’t she act on her desires? “I don’t know if I’m cut out for casual sex,” she admitted. Back in high school where she’d done all sorts of things shy of actual intercourse, she’d never felt good about it after. She’d always felt vaguely ashamed and dirty. Would things be different now, ten years later?
There was really only one way to find out, and that was to go for it. With Drew.
“Well?” Drew asked, as he walked her to her car from the dock. He wore flip flops, his board shorts, no shirt and sunglasses so she couldn’t see his eyes.
“Well what?” she asked. She’d pulled her jean shorts on over her bikini, which had dried in the sun, but purposely kept her tank top off because she was enjoying the way her breasts acted like magnets for Drew’s gaze. Since his smile and chest were doing the same for her gaze, she figured turnabout was fair play.
