Swept Away for Christmas

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Swept Away for Christmas Page 3

by M. J. Fredrick


  He snorted.

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t taken advantage of similar opportunities. I saw how the girls treated you back at Alabama. And I’ve seen a girl or two in here flirt with you.”

  “The difference being, I’m not in a relationship. If I wanted to take advantage of opportunities,” he said, making air-quotes, “then I wouldn’t be in a relationship. He’s an asshole. Don’t make excuses for him.”

  “Oh, believe me. Not a common occurrence.” Though she had done more at first, as hurt as she was. She’d been too boring, she’d worked too much, she hadn’t had money for cute new clothes that seemed to draw him to other women. Just remembering that made her sick.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  “I thought you had to get ready for Sam’s going away party.”

  He rolled his eyes. “He’s just going to be gone two weeks. Who says he needs a party?”

  “You did,” she reminded him as he pulled the security shade down over the bar and locked it, then shut the two doors on either end.

  He reached a hand to her, but she didn’t take it. He let it drop to his side and led the way off the deck to the beach beyond. Curious, she followed.

  “There’s a reason I came down here,” he said as they walked along the edge of the water. “The water is peaceful. Even when it’s not, even when the storms stir it up or whatever, it’s peaceful. It’s steady, constant.”

  “When did you come down here?” She couldn’t remember exactly. Three years ago, maybe. He’d done something after graduating from Alabama, but she couldn’t remember what.

  “A little more than four years ago. After the housing market crashed.”

  Ah. She remembered now. He’d been a broker, with a degree in economics. She could envision him on the floor of the Stock Exchange, ordering people to buy or sell, doing three things at once.

  “You lost a lot, too.”

  He was quiet a moment as they walked. “Not the money so much as the self-respect. I was good at my job, no doubt about it, but I didn’t like who I was, when I cared more about money than people. That crash hurt a lot of people, but I wasn’t one of them. It probably saved my life.” He glanced over at her. “What I’m saying is, this may be rough on you now, but it may turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  “I’m already leaning that way, but it’s kind of hard to realize you were so stupid for so long.”

  He hooked his hand affectionately on the back of her neck. “Oh, yeah. But you know what? You get the chance to wash it all away here, and come out the other side.”

  She cast him a sideways look. “You’re not going to baptize me in the Gulf or anything, are you?”

  He laughed and let his hand fall away, which made her wonder how close she’d been to the truth.

  “So where are we going?” she asked when he headed for one of the wooden walkways.

  “My place.”

  She paused mid-step. “Uh, where do you live?”

  He inclined his head. “Over there, on the bay.”

  “On the bay?” She’d driven by the houses on the bay on her way to Sam’s, pretty new houses right on the water, some with docks in their back yard, all with terraces overlooking the water.

  “I didn’t lose all my money, just my job.”

  “Are you scared of hurricanes?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Are you scared of tornados? It’s a risk I took.”

  “Do you have a boat? A dock?”

  “Yes to both. Want to go out on the boat? It’s a little chilly, but fun. Good fishing.”

  For some ridiculous reason, that sounded appealing, despite how cold it was. “Maybe.”

  “Good.” He led the way across the street, down another one, and through an iron gate leading to his neighborhood.

  “Do people drive anywhere in Starfish Shores? I’ve yet to see you or Sam drive anywhere.”

  “Don’t have to, unless the weather’s bad or we’re going to Florida or something.”

  “But you have cars, right?”

  “Sure. I have an old Bronco I restored. Great beach car. And there’s my house.” He pointed to a Tuscan-looking building painted in a sunny gold, with dark iron railings along the deck overlooking the water. Windows glinted in the afternoon sun. He led her to a recessed mahogany door, unlocking it and swinging it open.

  Before she could register what the rest of the house looked like, the scrabble of nails on tile echoed and an assortment of legs and tongue bounded around the corner to fly at Liam’s legs before dropping to writhe at his feet. He bent to rub the belly of a Labrador puppy, who rolled her eyes ecstatically before hopping to her feet again and rising on her back legs to jump on Harley.

  “No, Mia.” Liam caught her paws mid-swing and set her down on the ground. “Sit.”

  Ass wiggling, Mia looked up at him adoringly, but didn’t sit.

  “She’s just like you,” Harley laughed.

  He scowled at her, then turned to his dog. “Mia.”

  He drew out her name, and her ears lifted. He held a palm up and she sat, boom, butt on the floor. He opened a drawer in the entryway table and produced a treat, which she gobbled up and watched him expectantly.

  “Do you wanna....”

  The dog tilted her head adorably, looking from Harley to Liam.

  “Do you wanna...”

  Mia’s whole body was wriggling, but she kept her butt on the floor.

  “Do you wanna go for a walk?”

  The dog bounded up and danced in front of him as he pulled her leash out of the same drawer. He had some difficulty getting it on her, but finally snapped it in place, picked up a tennis ball from the same drawer and opened the front door.

  The dog nearly took his arm off in her leap for freedom.

  “How long have you had her?”

  “Couple of months. A birthday present from my parents who were afraid I’d never take on any responsibility ever again.”

  “Never mind that you own a business.”

  “Right.”

  “So why didn’t she run with you the other day?”

  “She told me she’d rather sleep in.” When Harley raised her eyebrows at him, he laughed. “She just lifted her head and gave me a look, then laid her head back down. I took her for a walk later.”

  “She sleeps in your bed?”

  “No!” His lips curved. “On my bed.”

  “So you just leave her with free rein in the house all night while you work?”

  “I crate her in the evenings, but she doesn’t like it. When I’m gone for a little bit, she can stay out. I have to make sure everything’s put away, though.”

  She thought of the brief glimpse she’d seen of his very neat, very Spartan house. She would have loved to have more time to explore, to get insight into his perpetually cheery nature. He opened the gate and they walked down the street, reversing their earlier course.

  “So, Mia? Who’s she named after?”

  “She came with the name. She’s a shelter pup. Someone couldn’t deal with her chewing stuff up, so turned her in.”

  “That was good of your parents to go to the shelter first.”

  “Yeah, my mom does fostering for one of the shelters back home.”

  “Which is?”

  “Florida.” They reached the beach and he bent to unhook her leash. Mia shot across the sand and into the water, splashing around in delight.

  “My God, she’s like you.”

  He laughed and whistled. Mia thundered up the beach toward him, and he threw the ball into the waves. She wheeled and galloped back, going under a wave to retrieve it.

  “She’s a good beach dog.”

  “Does she like the boat?”

  “She loves the boat. If I catch a fish, she’ll lick it before I throw it back.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “I am not. We’ll go out Sunday, and I’ll show you.”

  A little thrill went through her at that,
but she shook it off. She couldn’t trust her emotions right now when it came to men.

  “So, you’re a boat guy. Did you grow up on the water in Florida?”

  He wrestled the ball from Mia and tossed it back into the waves. “Not real close, like an hour away. My dad is more a fresh-water guy, so we spent more time in the Everglades.”

  She shuddered. “I’d take sharks over alligators.”

  He laughed. “I can’t say I ever thought about it.”

  “Are you going home for Christmas? I mean, will you have to close up the bar or get someone to run it for you while you go home?” Please, God, don’t let him put her in charge.

  “Nah. They might come over for dinner, and I will close the bar on Christmas Day, but it’s not really a big deal in my family.”

  “I guess it gets that way when you get older. I talked to my mom last night and since I had been planning to spend Christmas at a lake house in Minnesota with Tony’s family and Sam had this training, my parents decided to go to Aspen with some friends.” She was being selfish letting it bother her. She had been the first to decide not to come home, and Sam’s timing was just unfortunate. But not having any family traditions to fall back on made the season seem empty.

  “Well, we’ll do whatever you want to do to make it feel like Christmas around here.”

  He threw the ball again, and she admired his form, and the little stretch of skin as his shirt lifted up with the effort.

  “No Christmas sweaters, though.”

  He laughed then said, “No promises.”

  ***

  Harley made it through the night without spilling anything on anyone, and only messing up orders about half a dozen times, so she counted it as a success. Finally, she, Cindi, Liam and Sam were the last ones in the bar. Harley put her tired feet up on Sam’s lap and sipped her beer. He patted the tops of her shoes.

  “You did good.”

  “Glad it was mostly regular customers tonight,” Cindi said, leaning on the bar. “Tourists would have been testier.”

  “She’ll get the hang before tourist season,” Liam said.

  She didn’t want to say she’d be long gone by the time tourist season rolled around because, well, she didn’t know, did she? She certainly hadn’t thought she’d be a receptionist for as long as she had been.

  “I got all the bills paid, so you don’t have to worry about any of that while I’m gone,” Sam said to her. “The car’s filled up, I showed you where I keep the keys—”

  “Do you think I’m not going to make enough tips to pay for gas?”

  He exchanged a glance with Liam and she rolled her eyes.

  “Liam will look out for you, if you need anything.”

  “Geez, Sam. I may never have lived on my own, but I am twenty-five, and perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  “Yeah, well, I kind of wanted you to know the town better before I took off, but I had to leave now or not be back for Christmas.”

  So she wouldn’t be alone for Christmas, but it would be odd celebrating, just the two of them. Since Sam wouldn’t be home to get ready, the preparations would fall to her, too.

  “We’d better get home, since I have to be there early and you have to take me.”

  She groaned when he pushed her feet off his lap. Yeah, she had to be awake and coherent enough to drive him to Florida in less than three hours. After not being able to sleep for a month, she was suddenly certain she could sleep for a week.

  “What time do I come in tomorrow?” she asked Liam.

  “The game starts at three, so around two.” Liam clasped hands with Sam and they leaned in for a guy hug. “First game you’ll miss since we opened the bar.”

  Sam grimaced. “First game I’ve missed since I was accepted at Alabama.”

  “Hope you don’t jinx them,” Liam laughed, patting his friend’s shoulder. “Take care out there.”

  “Look out for my bar. And my sister.”

  Chapter Three

  Liam was trying to keep up with Mia as they ran along the road toward the beach the next morning. The grind of gears pulled him up short. He looked up to see Sam’s ancient Land Cruiser rolling toward a stop sign, Harley behind the wheel, her brow furrowed, her lips moving, her right arm jerking. She met his gaze through the windshield and her scowl deepened. He tugged on Mia’s leash and they stood on the sidewalk as Harley braked. He waited, and saw Harley doing her calisthenics as she worked the gears.

  Finally she rolled down the window. “What?” she snapped.

  “First time driving a stick?”

  “I learned how to drive on this car. It’s just been awhile.”

  “First gear sticks.”

  “I. Noticed.”

  “Want to come for a run with us?”

  “I am going back to bed.”

  His libido gave him a little kick, but he shut it down. His best friend’s little sister, recovering from a bad relationship. He’d told himself the same thing over and over the past few days, but couldn’t stop thinking about those long legs, those deep brown eyes, the wry smile that so often twisted her mouth.

  Maybe he’d been too long without a girlfriend, and since he didn’t do casual sex anymore, it had been a hell of a dry spell. But he would not break it with Sam’s sister.

  He should let her go back to the bungalow, back to bed. Instead, he cajoled. “Pastries afterward. Guilt-free.”

  Of course, a car pulled up behind her, on a stretch of road that never had traffic, at dawn. She swore and rolled forward, her relief palpable when she didn’t kill the engine.

  “Another time,” she said, and rolled on.

  He found himself hoping she meant it.

  ***

  Saturday meant Alabama football, and the Tide were in the playoffs. Because the bar was hopping, Liam had an extra bartender, Jesse, come in on game days, so Liam could watch the game with the customers. He hadn’t, however, hired an extra waitress, and Harley was running her cute little ass off. He missed a few key plays because he was spending so much time watching her. He told himself it was to see if she needed help doing the job, but Jesus, he liked the way she looked in those jeans.

  A cool front had blown in, so the night held a bite, but she didn’t seem to notice as she rushed from table to table. Saturdays were their best days anyway, and even the cold snap hadn’t kept customers away. Finally the game ended, the evening crowd thinned, and Harley collapsed on a stool, her head by the tray she’d barely used because she found it too unwieldy.

  “So you want to go out on the boat with me tomorrow?” he asked when she lifted her head to take the glass of soda he handed her.

  He sensed Cindi grow still, and didn’t know if it was because he was inviting Sam’s sister, or some other reason. Hell, maybe he was making a mistake inviting Harley out on his boat with only Mia as a chaperone.

  Harley dumped an armload of bottles into the recycle bin and straightened. “Don’t we work tomorrow?”

  “We’ll be back in time. We’ll head out early.”

  “How early?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Around eight.”

  She looked toward the ocean. “How far out do we go?”

  She wanted to go, he could sense it. Was she afraid of the boat, or of him? “Not too far. Maybe twenty minutes out.”

  “To go fishing.”

  “If you want. We can just go for a ride if you’d like. Do you get seasick?”

  “I’ve never been on the sea, just lakes.”

  “‘Sokay, I have some patches in case. And dress warm, because it’ll be colder out on the water.” He let his gaze skim over her, caught himself and looked up guiltily.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, but a blush tinted her cheeks. She pushed away from the bar. “I’ll see you at eight.”

  ***

  Liam opened the door the next morning to see Harley swaddled in jeans, a sweater, a coat, gloves, a hat and a scarf wound around her face.

  “Are you that cold alre
ady?” he asked, stepping back to let her in, pressing his knee into Mia’s chest so she wouldn’t jump up on Harley.

  “You said dress warm.” She took in his own jeans, hoodie and bare feet. “Better too warm than not warm enough.”

  He closed the door and led her to the house. He stopped in the kitchen and picked up the cooler.

  “Grab the thermos, will you?” He nodded to the container on the counter, then walked through the living room, out the sliding door, across the terrace to the dock, where his Viking was tethered. It had cost him a pretty penny, but it was his pride and joy. The clouds were low this morning, but scudding along, revealing patches of blue. It was going to be a gorgeous day, if a little cold now.

  He swung the ice chest onto the boat and hopped on to secure it, Mia following him. He looked back to see Harley standing uncertainly on the dock.

  “Are we ready to go already? You’re not wearing shoes.”

  “I have shoes on board. You ready?” He held a hand out.

  She edged closer and put her gloved hand in his, and let him help her on board. She hung back when he moved around the boat, preparing it to take it out.

  “Do you need any help?” she asked.

  “Got it,” he said, throwing off the lines, then climbing up to the pilothouse. The engine was quiet enough, though he didn’t worry too much about waking his neighbors on the weekend. A lot of them were fishermen as well, and were already heading out. Still a number of boats remained in their slots—may be too cold for some of them.

  He motioned for Harley to have a seat and he powered the boat through the channel between the houses, out onto the waterway, opening it up a little, liking the feeling of the water churning beneath the hull. The pilothouse protected him from most of the wind, but he still felt the sting as he angled the boat toward the open ocean.

  Below him, Mia stuck her head over the side of the boat and barked, snapping at the spray kicked up by the water, her tail swinging in wide arcs. Harley, on the other hand, clung to a pole beside her, eyes wide as she stared out over the open water.

  He should have made sure she’d put on a life vest. He idled the engine, slid down the ladder and crossed the deck to the storage area where he kept the life vests. He selected one and tossed it to her.

 

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