Love Me if You Dare

by Toni Blake

  SUN swept across the water, making it sparkle as the white sloop named the Lisa Renee cut a swath through the sea.

  As Reece had navigated their way through the small bay behind the Happy Crab, he’d shown Cami a spot where dolphins often played near a bridge that led to the open gulf. And as they’d passed under it just moments ago, he pointed out the Sunnymeade Retirement Center and its sprawling grounds as being where Christy’s Grandpa Charlie resided. “Took him and some of his friends from there out on the catamaran for dolphin watching a couple months ago,” he mentioned.

  She thought about how much such an excursion had probably meant to the older people, even if Reece’s casual tone implied that it was just another boat trip. “It’s nice that you’re so giving in ways like that,” she told him.

  He replied by glancing over from his spot behind the captain’s wheel, one eyebrow lifted. “What, you aren’t going to tell me I should be charging them for it?” Amusement glimmered in his gaze, but she also understood that he was really asking.

  “Well, not with elderly people who are probably subsisting on a small, fixed income,” she said, eyes widened to remind him that he should understand by now that she wasn’t heartless. “And I suppose it’s none of my concern what you charge anyone for anything anyway.” Wow, she really was mellowing the past few days. What was it? Reece? The cat? Coral Cove in general? She wasn’t sure but went on to say, “I was just thinking like a businessperson because that’s how my brain works. But if you don’t want to make your boats a business, who am I to shove it down your throat?”

  Now his eyes narrowed on her in full suspicion. “Who are you and what have you done with Camille Thompson?”

  She threw her head back in laughter, then informed him, “I guess I’m just starting to look at some things from a different perspective.”

  Although he still appeared playfully wary, his expression softened as he said, “Well, that’s refreshing to hear. And speaking of getting new perspectives . . .” He lowered his chin slightly, his gaze inquisitive. “Do you still hate when I call you Cami?”

  She shook her head and answered honestly. “I guess . . . it grew on me or something.”

  His response was a sexy grin that moved all through her, making her heart beat faster.

  Wow? Still? He can affect me that way just with a smile? As his attention shifted back to the waters before them, she watched him, felt that invisible connection flowing between them even now, and couldn’t help thinking how many unanticipated surprises had awaited her in this little town.

  “Want to help me put the sails up?” he asked, rising from his seat. Until now, he’d used the boat’s motor, explaining to Cami it was easier that way until they were out in open water.

  “Sure,” she said. “Just tell me what to do.”

  Reece unfurled a white sail, instructing her, “Okay, grab on to that line to your right and pull it tight—and hold it until I can walk over and show you how to tie it.”

  And as she knotted it the way Reece taught her a minute later, ending with a small sense of accomplishment, she thought: God, he’s right—who am I? The woman who’d marched into the Happy Crab in her red power suit a week and a half ago would never have been interested in learning to raise a sail or tie a sailor’s knot. She wouldn’t have loved the wind whipping through her hair and she would have found the burst of sea spray that misted over her face just then downright offensive.

  This place—this man—has broadened your horizons, expanded who you are when you least expected it. She found herself smiling over at him, thinking he’d given her an enormous gift—one she hadn’t even known she wanted.

  Once the sails were hoisted, Reece turned off the boat’s motor and informed her they were officially sailing. After that, they drifted up the coastline, Reece pointing out other towns and landmarks along the way.

  When he turned the boat directly out into the vast gulf waters, pointing the bow toward the horizon, he told her they’d soon come upon a tiny uninhabited island he knew of. She’d had no idea islands like that really existed, but Reece said, “Sometimes they pop up after a hurricane and disappear after the next. Or sometimes they last a while. This one’s been here as long as I can remember, but there’s a lot more vegetation now than when I was a kid.”

  As the little island came into view, Cami spotted a small, sandy beach flanked by palm trees and low-lying brush. “Palm trees grow that tall that fast?” she asked, surprised.

  Reece nodded. “Some species grow one to two feet a year.”

  “Can we visit it?” she wondered out loud. “Walk around?”

  Flashing another of his intoxicating grins, Reece said, “You read my mind, Tink. Thought we’d have lunch there and go for a swim.”

  Although she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was different than before, the next couple of hours felt more romantic than anything Cami had experienced in a long while—maybe ever. Reece had brought a blanket and a picnic basket with sandwiches, some fruit, and a bottle of wine complete with two wineglasses. Somehow even taking the sloop’s inflatable dinghy from the boat to the beach was fun. The beach wasn’t as tidy as Coral Cove’s—sprinkled with bits of shell and driftwood and other sea things—but she liked how natural it was, liked being someplace she figured not many other feet had tread.

  She’d worn her bathing suit under her shorts and tank top, so as Reece had suggested, after they ate, they ventured hand-in-hand into the relatively calm water to cool off. Soon they went in deeper, playing and splashing and leaping over the waves.

  Before long, Cami found herself with her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist—and that was when he carried her back into the more shallow, calmer waters near the shore until he stood about waist deep. And when he began to kiss her. And when he began going hard against the tender spot between her legs.

  “Oh . . .” she breathed between kisses, loving the way he felt. Loving being held completely aloft in the water that way, so that she couldn’t have drawn back from his body even if she’d tried.

  “Just when you thought this day couldn’t get any better,” he said with a teasing arrogance.

  And she laughed. “You and the water again,” she pointed out.

  “Maybe it’s you and water again,” he countered. “Seems like you’ve brought out some new water-sex-loving side of me or something.”

  An idea that turned her on even a little more than she already was. So rather than continue playing around, she leaned near his ear and murmured, “I want you.”

  His hands cupped her ass already, and now he squeezed, the sensation it created echoing all through her, just as he promised, low and raspy, “You’re about to have me, honey.”

  A moment later, her bikini bottoms were pulled aside and he was entering her, making her feel wonderfully full with him beneath the mid-day sun in their private little paradise. “Oh God,” she breathed as the pleasure expanded through her, and then she followed the instinct to grind against him, find her rhythm, something primitive and wild. And she let herself go completely in his arms because he made her feel safe that way, like she could release all her inhibitions and let every ounce of herself flow freely without any fears.

  Almost as soon as she came, he followed, and as he drove up into her in gloriously hard thrusts, she leaned her head back and drank in the relentless heat and passion he spilled into her.

  Afterward, they kissed, and he whispered, “You make water more fun, Tink.”

  And she said, “So do you, Reecie Cup.”

  He laughed at the silly name, and they proceeded, hand in hand, back up onto the beach, where they stretched out on the blanket to soak up some sun.

  They left the little island around two in the afternoon but agreed they weren’t yet ready to venture back. Cami didn’t know if Reece was feeling the same as her, but she liked being alone with him like this, feeling a little isolated, secluded, like they were the only two people in the world. Although she’d brought
her cell phone out of habit, she’d realized earlier that they were out of range, and while that would normally make her feel cut off from civilization, right now it suited her just fine. Reece was all she needed to fill her day.

  When she first noticed she hadn’t seen any land in a while, she suffered a twinge of uneasiness, but quickly let it go, deciding that just made it all the more a grand adventure. And if Reece was unfazed by the distance between the boat and the shore, then so was she.

  After a while, he let the boat just drift, stretching out to relax with her on the deck in the sun, listening to music on the radio. Eventually, she was so relaxed she fell asleep.

  And when she awoke a while later, she found herself staring up at the tall white sails looming overhead—and at Reece, now on his feet.

  Only . . . did he look worried? She squinted, then sat up to better see his expression. “Something wrong?” she asked, still trying to get fully awake.

  Reece struck her as more serious than usual, peering slowly to the right and then to the left out over the ocean. “Not really,” he said. “Just seems like we’re becalmed now.”

  “Becalmed?”

  “No wind,” he explained, adding, “but no biggie,” as he walked toward the boat’s stern. “That’s why we have a motor.”

  Getting to her feet, she watched as Reece turned a key near the captain’s wheel, then pressed a button—same as he’d done to start the boat earlier. The engine behind the Lisa Renee began to crank . . . slowly—very slowly. But . . . maybe that was normal? Though she thought his expression still held too much concern.

  “Then why do you look so grim?” she asked.

  And it was then that the motor ceased cranking at all, going completely silent.

  And Reece said, “Because now something’s wrong.”

  Sometimes, though not often, he had dreams,

  and they were more painful than the dreams of the other boys.

  J. M. Barrie, Peter and Wendy

  Chapter 18

  REECE’S STOMACH dropped like a stone. Part of him was trying not to overreact, not to treat this like some unsolvable tragedy, but . . . Jesus Christ. Had he really not checked the wind report? Had he not tested the motor? Sure, he’d used it to depart the dock and it had seemed fine then, but clearly he should have run it longer after letting the boat sit unused. Had he really brought Cami out here into the middle of the ocean without taking some simple precautions to ensure getting her back? How the hell had he let something like this happen?

  His natural instinct was not to let his distress show. And he was pretty well-practiced at staying calm, not letting the bad shit leak out through his eyes. As his gut tightened, he ran a hand back through his hair, wrapping his mind around the situation, and then stated the obvious. “Engine’s dead.”

  Cami looked uncertain—like she was trying not to panic. “What could cause that?” But he heard what she was really asking: How big of a deal is it and can we fix it and get home?

  Reece thought through possibilities. “Could be any number of things. Bad battery. Corroded wiring. Starter gone bad. No way to know for sure until I can have some tests run on the engine. Not gas, though. I filled the tank this morning.” For good measure, he pressed the start button again and this time the sloop’s diesel engine made no noise at all.

  “The wind might pick up,” he informed Cami. “But in case it doesn’t, I’ll radio for help.”

  Relief washed over her face at his words and he was glad he could put her at ease. But it didn’t make him like this situation any better. And though a lot of sailors might wait patiently for the wind to return—because it very well might, any moment now—he instead headed straight for the boat’s small cabin, which held the same two-way radio it had when his dad bought the boat.

  The truth was, remembering how to operate it would be guesswork. His dad had kept them all well-versed on it back in the day, but it had been a damn long time now. And then an awful thought hit him—what if it doesn’t work? What if it’s too old or something? He frequently made sure the radio on the catamaran was in good working order, even though he seldom had to use it, either, but he hadn’t looked at this one in a very long time.

  He glanced over his shoulder to see that Cami had stayed on deck. Good. Less pressure to look like he had this situation completely under control.

  Strange—usually he felt like he did have situations under control. But maybe it was this boat, its history—maybe he’d been right in the first place and taking it out had been a bad idea. Had he really not performed more thorough checks? When it hadn’t been on the water in ages? What the hell had he been thinking?

  You were thinking about Cami and her coral bikini and about what to pack for lunch, and you were busy finding a bottle of wine and making sure you brought a corkscrew and decent glasses. You were busy trying to impress a woman.

  He shook his head at the inanity of it. Especially since, on one hand, he still didn’t know if he should be trying to impress her—because he still wasn’t 100 percent certain what her motives were with him. And on the other hand, if she was completely sincere in terms of their relationship, he didn’t think he needed to impress her—he thought she liked him for who he was. He couldn’t remember, in fact, the last time he’d done something to impress a girl. Which must mean—you’re really into this one. You’re really, really into her.

  Damn. How had that happened so fast?

  But he didn’t have time to examine that question right now.

  Turning on the radio, he was happy to hear it buzz to life. And after picking up the handheld microphone, he let himself think back, feel his way through it, turn the knobs and dials that made it connect to someone out there.

  “Hail Tow Boat U.S.,” he said, calling for the national towing company. “Hail Tow Boat U.S. This is the Lisa Renee hailing Tow Boat U.S.”

  He went quiet then, waiting for a reply, aware of his own heartbeat.

  And just when he’d begun to fear a reply wasn’t coming—it did. The towing company answered, and he explained his situation. And he was told they’d be happy to tow them in, but that unfortunately it might take a while. “Whole area’s becalmed,” the man on the other end informed him in a Texan accent. “Lotta calls for help all along the coast. You good with food and water?”

  Hell—it was gonna take so long that they were worried about his food and water supply? “Good for how long?” he asked.

  “Unless the winds pick up, probably morning.”

  Damn it, he hadn’t expected that. And this made things . . . a little more serious. They wouldn’t starve or anything, but they might actually get hungry. “Good on water,” he said, because he’d packed a cooler with plenty, thank God. “Less good on food, though.” There were some snack chips they hadn’t eaten and a couple of bananas.

  “We’ll get to ya as fast as we can, partner,” the voice on the radio said. “Just stay hydrated and hold tight.”

  “Will do,” Reece said. Trying to sound cool about it. Not so much for himself, but for Cami.

  Because she’d trusted him to take care of her today, trusted him to know how, and he’d done a shitty job. And it just brought back too many bad memories. Apparently making better memories on this boat was easier said than done.

  He took a deep breath as he exited the cabin back out into the bright, hot sun and met her expectant gaze. He tried to appear calmer than he felt when he said, “Good news and bad news. The good is that the towing company will come if the wind doesn’t pick up before they get here. The bad is that we’re not the only stranded boaters and they probably can’t reach us ’til morning.”

  “Oh,” she said, and he saw her trying to be calm, too. But he still felt shitty.

  “We have plenty of water,” he informed her, “but less food. Dinner will be bananas and Fritos. Breakfast will be more Fritos.”

  “I . . . like Fritos,” she offered softly, hopefully.

  And he appreciated that, but . . . hell. “I’m so
rry, Tink,” he told her. “So damn sorry.” He shook his head, shut his eyes. “I screwed up and now we’re both paying for it.”

  “It’s all right, Reece,” she told him, her voice so gentle—so different than the woman he’d first met—that he thought she must sense his anger at the situation. And indeed it was building inside him, like a bubble filled with something toxic, expanding, growing bigger and bigger.

  Until it burst and he punched his fist into the padded captain’s seat to let some of it out.

  Then he looked over at her, a little embarrassed that he’d done that right in front of her. Maybe he wasn’t so good at hiding his emotions after all.

  “Sorry,” he said again—then ran both hands back through his hair. After which he stalked away from her, toward the front of the boat, just because he didn’t want to keep letting her see how distraught he was, and the only way he knew right now was to get out of her direct line of vision.

  Reaching the bow, he sat down on the deck, against the railing, looked up at the blue sky now dotted with flat, white clouds, and felt how hot it was without the usual wind at sea. He planted his feet out in front of him, knees bent, legs spread slightly, and leaned his head into his hands. Just stay cool, man. Quit remembering. Don’t go back there. This isn’t that. This is so fucking far from that that it’s stupid to even let one remind you of the other.

  And yet . . . it was reminding him. And his heart beat too fast. And he could almost feel the shock of it again, the horrific loss, taking over his body, shutting him down.

  “Reece, I don’t see how this is your fault. Why are you so upset about this?”

  He looked up. Shit, she’d followed him. And it struck him anew how beautiful she was. And how he wished they were safe and sound, back on dry ground, and that he’d never let her down. He hated letting anyone down.

  “I mean, I know it’s far from ideal,” she said, “but it’ll be fine, won’t it? They’ll come for us, even if it’s not until tomorrow. It’s not that big of a thing.”