Her eyes got even wider. “Do I need this?”
“You might feel more secure with it.”
She held it, as if weighing the decision to wear it.
“Do you need help?”
“I’ve got it.” She slipped it over her head. “Is she going to jump off?” She motioned to Mia.
“She hasn’t yet.”
“What if she does?”
“I’ll get her back in. You can come up if you want. There’s a couple of seats.” He headed up the ladder again without waiting for her answer.
A moment later, her head popped over the edge, and she inspected the pilothouse for a moment before climbing the rest of the way and taking a seat, straining to look over the edge of the boat.
He bent between her knees, making her jolt, and looked into her eyes as he pulled a lever.
“It swivels,” he told her, straightening and giving her a spin.
Face flushed, she pivoted the seat so she could look over the side.
“We’ll probably see some dolphins pretty soon here,” he said over the sound of the engine. “Do you want to fish, or just ride around?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Help yourself to the coffee. I put some snacks and other drinks in the cooler, if you’d prefer.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “What time did you get up?”
He shrugged. “I don’t look at a clock much anymore. Mia keeps me on a schedule, but other than that...I didn’t have much of a schedule at all before I got her, other than the bar.”
“Do you like that?”
“Even when I was a broker, time didn’t much matter, other than the opening and closing bell. You worked as late as you needed to, got to work as early as you needed to. I’m kind of living the reverse now.”
“But you get up early to run.”
“When I wake up, I go running. I don’t always run at the same time every day.”
She drew her legs up in the chair and wrapped her arms around them. “I discovered the past few weeks that I like sleep. A lot.”
He laughed. “So do I. I’m just not very good at it. Dolphins. There.”
He leaned down beside her and pointed to the arching figures about a hundred yards out. He took a moment to breathe in her scent, something clean and fresh, to feel her hair feather against his cheek in the breeze, before he stood and turned the boat in the direction of the dolphins.
“Won’t you scare them away?” she asked.
“Nah, they sometimes will ride alongside the boat.” But he turned up just before reaching them, and coasted alongside them at an easy speed, while Mia barked her head off below.
Harley stood and looked over the side, her knuckles white on the edge of the window, but delight brightened her face as she watched the creatures swim alongside the boat. He slowed the engine so she could hear the clicks and pops they made with their blowholes as they warned Mia away. Then, as if showing off, one dolphin leapt from the water in an acrobatic arc before diving back into the water. Harley sucked in her breath.
“I paid him to do that,” Liam said.
She laughed. “Gets the chicks every time?”
He really didn’t want to joke about that. He wasn’t trying to “get” her.
Was he?
She looked past him and her expression tightened. “Where’s the land?”
“Back there. We’ll find it again when we need it.”
“I’ve never been on a boat when I couldn’t see the land.”
“I know where it is. We’ll be fine.” He slowed the engine further and turned on the fish-finder. “You’ve been watching too many scary movies. Here, you want to see what’s under us?”
She stood, her hands on the bottom of her life vest as she looked at the screen. He pointed to the numbers along the side of the screen. “Those are how deep everything is.”
She pointed to a large figure at the bottom of the screen. “Is that a shark?”
“Could be, the way it’s moving. These are good fishing grounds.” He pressed a button to lower the anchor, then shut off the motor. “Let’s see what we can catch.”
“I’m completely out of my depth here,” she said, following him down. “I have no idea how to fish.”
“I got you covered.” He opened a cabinet where poles and tackle were stored neatly. He prepared a pole for her with a store-bought lure as Mia watched, panting, then prepared one for himself. “Watch the way I cast.”
He demonstrated, sending the line sailing out over the calm water to land a good twenty feet from the boat. He then set the pole in the bracket and turned to her. He adjusted her grip on the pole, then stepped behind her, arms around her to show her how to swing the pole.
She went stiff in his arms, and he thought about letting her go, stepping back, but he just couldn’t make himself.
“Relax a little or you’re not going to have the arc you need.” He pulled back on the pole, guiding her, and she jerked the pole forward, so the line fell just on the outside of the boat. “Reel it in, we’ll try it again.” He put her hand on the reel and got her started. “Am I making you nervous?”
The question made her tense further. “I’m just not at all sure what I’m doing here.”
What did she mean by that? She wasn’t sure what she was doing, or she wasn’t sure what she was doing here? “There’s a first time for everything. You’re doing great. Put a little more sway into it.”
She grunted but did, and this time her line went out far enough to satisfy him. He released her and moved to his own pole, dropping into a seat near it to keep an eye on it, and motioning for her to do the same. When she sat in the swivel chair beside him, he reached behind him and grabbed the thermos, pouring a little coffee into the cup and offering it to her.
“Still cold?”
She took the cup in both gloved hands. “Little bit.”
“The sun will be out soon, and it’ll warm up.” He took the cup back from her and sipped, watching her eyes widen at the intimacy. “I can go get a cup from the galley if this bothers you.”
“I don’t mind,” she said.
He poured a little more in the cup, handed it back, then put his feet up on the side of the boat and leaned back in his chair, reaching over to scratch Mia’s head.
“How smart are these fish?”
“Not very. I’ve hooked the same one more than once.”
“How do you know it’s the same one?”
“It was still bleeding from the last time I cut the hook out of its mouth.”
“So do you cook what you catch, then?”
“Not a lot. If I catch something good, or if I have someone who’ll eat it with me, yeah.”
“Do you not have someone who’ll eat it with you now?”
He slanted a look at her. “Well, I thought I’d invite you.”
“I don’t mean—”
“No, I’m not seeing anyone now. Always dangerous to start dating around Christmas. Never know what kind of expectations you’ll have.”
“You’ll have, or she’ll have?”
His lips quirked. “A little generalized, huh?”
“Little bit.”
“So how come you never got married to that guy Tony? I mean, seven years is a long time.”
She sighed and reached between them to pet Mia, who swiped her tongue against Harley’s wrist. “He wanted to make it first.”
Liam opened his mouth to say something, but she put her hand up.
“I know, I know, I should have seen it coming. How many people actually make it in Nashville? But I believed, and even if I didn’t, I wasn’t exactly in a position where I could change anything. We lived from paycheck to paycheck—”
“Yours,” he asserted.
She blew out a breath. “Mine, though he had some money coming in from songwriting royalties and the gigs, but most of that money went back into his art.”
He pressed his lips together. She probably didn’t want to hear his opinion
of a guy letting a girl support him at the expense of her own dreams. “So what did you want to be, before you were a receptionist in Nashville?”
“What did I want to be?” She looked at him. “I never really knew. People would ask me that, and I’d say stuff like cheerleader or ballerina, unrealistic stuff like that, which is I guess why I was drawn to Tony. He knew what he wanted, more than anything, and he went after it, but he was still kind of a dreamer, too, you know?”
“I guess.”
“I mean, you didn’t always know that you wanted to be a broker, right? That’s not something someone grows up wanting to be.”
“I wanted to be a football player. You know, despite the heat and the drills, it always seemed cool to be making money—good money—playing a game. When that didn’t happen, I had to rethink my plan. Working in finance was a lot like playing a game.” He shrugged. “I liked it until I saw the consequences. Once I stepped back and took a breath, I knew I didn’t want to be a part of that anymore. Sam was here, so I came down and crashed for a bit, and stayed.” He flashed her a grin. “Sound familiar?”
“I’m not staying. Whatever I do next, I have to do on my own. I’ve never been on my own, and it’s time.”
“Just because you have someone to lean on doesn’t mean you’re not doing something on your own. Sam’s got your back.”
“And I hope that will give me the courage to try something new. I just don’t know what that could be, yet. Pretty sure it’s not going to be waitress.”
He laughed. “You’re not doing so bad.”
She rolled her eyes just as a tug came on her line. She leaned forward to grab the pole as the line whipped out.
“What do I do?” she asked, in a panic.
“He’s running away with it,” he said, moving slower, reaching around her for the pole, stopping the reel from its spinning.
The pole bent under the weight of the fish’s fight, and Liam put his hand over Harley’s to show her how to reel it in, how to let the fish play it out, then reel it back in. Impatient, she tugged the pole away and worked it herself, using the rhythm he’d showed her, a rhythm that he shouldn’t be thinking was like sex, with its give and take.
Seriously, Sam had been gone a little over twenty-four hours. Liam should have better self-control than to be lusting over his sister already.
He leaned over the edge of the boat, joined by Mia, to watch for the fish. A mackerel, most likely, and depending on the size, it might be good eating. He’d bet she’d let him clean it for her, if she wouldn’t let him help her bring it in.
“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
“Don’t see it yet. You doing okay?”
She nodded shortly, concentrating on the pole and the reel and the rhythm. Her scarf had fallen loose and her hat was on the deck and her face was flushed, her eyes bright. God, he wanted to kiss her. Bringing her out here had been a bad, bad decision. At least in the bar, on the beach, he could walk away, she could walk away.
He needed to walk away now. He popped to his feet and crossed the deck to retrieve his fishing net. Mia followed, then headed back to the edge of the boat, her tail whipping furiously. Liam leaned over to look. Sure enough, she’d hooked a mackerel. He grinned.
“You want to reel him in, or grab him with the net?”
“I’ll reel him in.”
Liam reached over with the net, guiding the end of the pole to aim the fish, and scooped. He lifted the heavy flopping fish into the net so she could see it.
“Did you bring your phone? You could text a picture to Sam.”
She fished in her pocket and handed it to him. He traded her for the net, which she had to hold with both hands, while he opened the camera app and snapped a shot. Since she was bobbling the net, he tucked the phone in his own pocket and took the net from her.
“Dinner tonight?” he asked as she stared at it.
“Oh, no, I can’t eat him. Let’s throw him back.”
“Are you sure? He’s a good-sized one, and I have a chest right over there for our catch.”
“No, I don’t think I want to eat him.”
“If I catch something, will you eat it?”
“I guess, sure.”
He reached into the net and with some difficulty, snipped the hook from the fish’s mouth, and was about to dump him back into the ocean to swim away.
“Wait!”
He froze and looked over his shoulder at her.
“You said Mia would lick him.”
“Right.” He looked from woman to hopeful dog, reached into the net for the wriggling fish and grasped it in both hands before offering it to the dog.
Mia sniffed the length of the fish, then swiped her tongue along its length. Harley was still laughing when he tossed the fish back in the water.
And then Mia jumped in after it.
Chapter Four
Harley dove for the dog, recognizing her intention a half a minute too late, and brushing only her fingertips along the dog’s tail before Mia disappeared over the side and landed with a splash in the water.
“Oh my God! Liam!”
“She’ll be okay. She knows how to swim.” But tension laced his voice as he braced his arms on the side to watch her paddling around.
“But how will she get back in the boat? And the shark?”
“What? Where?” He scanned the water.
“On the screen. Up there.” She jabbed her finger toward the pilothouse.
He swore and patted his hand against the hull. “Come on, Mia. Come back over here.”
But she didn’t, delighted with her freedom in the water.
He moved to the stepladder at the end of the boat and called the dog again, to no avail. Then he straightened, stripped off his hoodie and shirt in one move then unbuckled his pants.
She stared. “What are you doing?”
“I need you to bring the boat around. I don’t know how far I can bring her.”
She had no idea how to drive the boat, but she couldn’t just stand here, so she ran up the steps, studied the controls and grabbed the wheel. Before she started to move, she remembered he’d pressed a button to lower the anchor. She pressed it again and the anchor rose before she guided the boat toward Mia. She used the lever to slow down, and Liam stepped up on the edge of the boat.
Now was not the time to notice, but good Lord, the man was beautiful, broad shoulders, sculpted chest and arms, and an ass that...
He dove into the water after his dog.
Harley leaned over the edge as Liam treaded water, holding his head back to keep waves from slapping into his mouth as he called to the dog. He gave his head a shake, sending a spray of water, and whistled through his teeth. Thankfully, Mia thought it was all one big game and paddled over to him. He hooked his hand through her collar and swam backwards toward the boat, dragging her with him. Her cries of dismay rang out over the water as he hauled her toward the boat. Harley hurried down the ladder and across the deck to grab the dog and pull her up.
Mia promptly shook freezing water all over the boat, all over Harley.
“Sit!” she ordered sternly, and turned to Liam as he mounted the steps to the boat, water streaming down his bare chest. She stared just a little too long at the droplets of water wending their way down his chest, down his pecs to his flat stomach. Her tongue curled against the roof of her mouth as her gaze drifted down the line of hair to his stomach and to the boxers that were plastered to him. She tore her gaze away. “Towels?”
“In the cabin,” he chattered, wrapping his arms around himself and nodding toward a door beneath the pilothouse.
She opened the door and headed down the steps, past a tiny galley and into a bedroom, where a bed took up almost the whole space. She battled images of what it might be like to warm him up in that big bed, and set about looking for towels.
“Top shelf to the right,” he said behind her.
She swiveled, heart leaping, to see him taking up a good portion of the galley, his dr
y clothes in one hand. She swallowed her traitorous heart and focused on finding the towels. When she turned back, towels in hand, he’d moved into the bedroom, sucking all the air out, blocking her exit. He was close enough that she could see the gooseflesh rising on his skin, could smell the ocean on him. Every teenaged fantasy she’d ever had about him played through her head as she stared. He took the towel gratefully and rubbed it over his short hair, face, shoulders and chest before wrapping it around his shoulders and taking the second towel from her.
“I love Alabama,” she whispered. Then, “I should...go check on Mia. Do you have a special towel for her?”
“Just take one of the others.” He reached past her to adjust the thermostat.
If she stayed in here much longer with him, he wouldn’t need to turn up the heat, because she was about to combust. Her nipples went on high alert at his proximity until the chill from his body permeated her sweater to her skin.
“Why don’t you get dressed?” She tried to ease past him without touching him. A roll of the boat sent her off-balance and she braced herself with her hands on his ribcage. She made the mistake of looking into his eyes, which had darkened, and he put his hands over hers, holding them against his skin.
“Your hands are warm.”
And he was hard, both the muscles beneath her palms, and lower. What kind of woman was she that she wanted to press up against him, let him warm himself?
A red-blooded one, apparently.
His gaze flicked to her lips, making them tingle. She stretched up on her toes—and Mia barked sharply above them. Harley jerked her hands away and hurried above deck.
Mia was shivering, too, and whimpering at the door. Harley dropped to her knees and wrapped the towel around the dog, who licked her face in gratitude.
“What were you thinking, you silly girl? Don’t you know you can’t just jump? You’re lucky you’re not shark bait.” She rubbed the towel into Mia’s fur, then wrapped her arms around the dog’s neck and hugged her.
“I’m the one who rescued her.”
She loosened her grip to look over her shoulder. He’d dressed, and even put on socks, but was still pale.
Swept Away for Christmas Page 4
