by Robin Kaye
“Bree, I was eighteen years old. I may have been a dumb kid, but I was smart enough to know I had to leave. I had nothing to offer you, and God help me, I didn’t want to get stuck in Red Hook and turn into my old man.”
He’d never mentioned his real parents. The pain she saw in his eyes took her breath away; she wrapped her arms around herself to keep from touching him.
“The only thing my dad could do was work the docks. He hated it, he drank, and he took the fact that he was trapped in his shit-hole of a life out on my mom and me. I was lucky social services took me away after one too many visits to the ER. You, Pete, Slater, and Logan were the only good things in my life. Pete made me see what I could be. And Bree, I wanted more for you. I wanted more for us. I wanted an education, I wanted to design boats, and the only way I could make that happen was to get as far away from Red Hook as humanly possible.”
“I would never have asked you to stay. I would have waited for you, Storm. I loved you.”
“Don’t you get it, Breezy? If we had made love, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to leave you. As it was, I felt like one of those dogs who had to chew off his own leg to escape a trap.”
“Don’t you dare put that on me, Storm Decker. I never wanted to trap you.”
“It didn’t matter what you wanted. That’s not what I’m talking about. I was nothing but a punk kid with a record. I knew I didn’t deserve you. I would have dragged you down with me, and I loved you too much to take a chance on hurting you. I loved you so much, I had to protect you from me, Breezy. I did the only thing I could to save us both—I ran. It was immature, and maybe I could have handled it better. I’m sorry I hurt you, but dammit, Breezy, I still believe I did the right thing.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that when you came home? It would have saved us a lot of time and trouble.”
“I tried last night, but you weren’t ready to hear it.”
“I was angry.”
Storm nodded. “I got that, and you had every right to be.”
“Storm, when I said this is incredible, I was talking about the boat and the date.” She released her skirt and touched his arm; his muscles tensed under her fingers. “No one has ever taken me on a date like this. No one has ever gone to this much trouble. Accusing you of stealing the boat was cruel and way out of line. And I’m sorry I sounded obtuse. I just didn’t understand what you do—not really. I had no idea this boat was one of yours. It’s just so beautiful….”
“And a guy like me is incapable of designing something beautiful?”
Even with the wind buffeting her face, the heat of a fierce blush hit her like a third-degree burn. “That’s not what I meant. I know I don’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, but I’m obviously capable of insulting you right to your face, so please, don’t go putting words in my mouth.”
She turned to face him—searching for the boy she used to love in the man beside her. “You’ve changed so much. I just didn’t let myself see it. I think I was afraid to. I’m sorry I’ve been so hostile.”
“It’s okay, Bree. I’ll take you home. I’m sure that’s what you want.”
“You’re wrong.” She watched the colors of the sunset lighting the horizon, trying to gather her fragmented thoughts before she stepped closer. “I hope you can forgive me. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been since you got here. It’s just that you scare me, Storm, and I say horrible things and act like a complete bitch when I’m scared.”
When she got the guts to look him in the face to see if he’d even heard her, she was shocked to see him grinning. It was not a happy smile, but a tortured, almost cynical, self-mocking grin.
“Wow, you must be really terrified.”
CHAPTER 13
Storm spared Bree a glance. She looked about to cry, and his gut tightened. He gripped the wheel with both hands to keep from reaching for her and cursed himself for even caring. After years of trying to forget about her and after everything she’d said and done in the last few days, he still cared. He was either a fucking lunatic or a masochist—probably both.
She stood within reach, looking about ready to crumble as quickly as his resistance. He adjusted the course and set the autopilot. He wasn’t about to leave the wheel while sailing along the tip of lower Manhattan, but he had better things to do with his hands than steer. Way better.
She took a step back and started to dissolve before his eyes. “It’s too little too late, isn’t it?” Her voice sounded hollow. “I understand.” One of those tears she’d been fighting escaped, and she turned away.
“No, you don’t.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her against him, and felt something shift inside. Holding her felt right. “I had to set the autopilot and increase our speed; the ferry is coming.” He nodded in that direction. “We have the right-of-way, but I’m giving her wide berth. I don’t want to sail through her wake.”
“What are you saying?” Her hair whipped her face and hid it from him.
Storm tipped her face up to his and brushed back her hair, holding it before sliding his mouth over hers. It wasn’t a long kiss; there was way too much traffic to be making out at the helm, for God’s sake. He wasn’t about to get carried away here—at least not until they had No Censor Ship neatly docked in her slip. But damn, it was a good kiss, and he relaxed, letting his tension fly away with the wind. “Now, do you want me to come about, or do you want to sail?”
“That’s it?”
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know. I figured you’d rake me over the coals at least a little bit. I wouldn’t blame you.” She looked at him as if she’d never seen him before, and maybe she really hadn’t.
“Breezy, if we’re starting over, we’re starting over. That was our first kiss; we have a clean slate. Don’t you think we’ve been raking each other over the coals long enough?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he held back a groan when her body strained against his. She was dangerous. If being with him was like riding a roller coaster, being with her was like sailing through a typhoon—much scarier than any roller coaster could ever hope to be. Storm tucked her more securely against him and scanned the water. It was a perfect night for a sail, so he adjusted the course and leaned against the transom.
Five minutes ago he thought he’d lost Bree, not that he’d been delusional enough to believe he’d had her, but he’d thought she’d put a bullet between the eyes of their last chance, and the pain he’d felt almost brought him to his knees. Now she was in his arms, sailing across the harbor, and he’d be damned if it didn’t feel as if she belonged there, as if they both did.
He held her a little tighter, afraid if he loosened his grip, the feeling would escape as quickly as it hit him. He didn’t want to lose this, lose Bree. Shit, he felt as if he’d searched his whole life for what he had right this second. He didn’t know if it would last; all he knew was that he never wanted it to disappear. For the first time in his life he felt at home, complete, happy. Nowhere else he’d ever been had felt this right.
“Storm?” She took his face in her hands, and those bright green eyes of hers bored into his. “I’m not going anywhere, but I’d like to be able to breathe.”
“What?”
“You’re crushing me.”
“Shit.” He relaxed his hold. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No, but I’d kill to know what was going through your mind when you did your impersonation of a boa constrictor.”
She stared at him until it was clear he wasn’t going to spill his guts—he’d already given her enough ammunition; any more could be deemed assisted suicide.
She looked as if a lightbulb had gone on, and she considered him with brows drawn together. “You really put yourself out there for me, didn’t you?” There was wonder in her voice, something he hadn’t heard since they were kids.
He did his best to laugh it off and scanned the water. What was he, an open book?
“You’re as scare
d as I am, only you’re braver. You don’t let the fear stop you.”
He shot her a get-real look and returned his gaze to a bright yellow water taxi.
“Oh, now you’re doing that man-of-steel thing. It’s as though you put on a mask.”
They were sailing between Governors Island and Ellis Island. The Statue of Liberty stood as rigid as he felt. He forced out a breath. “I’m not doing anything but trying to figure out if we’re on the same page here, Bree. This feels too right—you and me together, here, now—except for your play-by-play, that is.”
“I just call ’em like I see ’em. It does feel right, but then we’re sailing around on a yacht—not really a dose of reality, is it? I mean, how bad could it feel?”
“Pretty bad. I’ve been on a hell of a lot of yachts and never felt anything like this. The only thing different in the equation is you.”
A smile lit her face. “Really?”
“Really.” He scanned the water and then focused on her profile, her long hair blowing in the evening breeze. “With the sun setting all pink and purple, you look more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.” He cleared his throat, swallowing back his emotions. “So where do we go from here?”
She stared at him for as long as it took to circle the Statue of Liberty and reset the autopilot. He snuck glances of her as she faced Lady Liberty with New York lit up in the background. Tension radiated off her in waves. Not good.
“I don’t know. Everything has changed, but nothing is different. You still live on the other side of the world”—she pointed at Red Hook—“and my life is over there. People depend on me—Pete, Nicki, my mother. So you tell me, where do we go from here?”
“I work all over the world, Bree. Just because I have to leave doesn’t mean I won’t come back.”
“Really? But when? In another eleven years?” She shook her head and turned away.
His heart pounded out the drum of a dirge. He was going to lose her, and it hurt more than it did the last time. He felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. He spun her around and wrapped his arms around her. He never thought he’d be one to beg. He’d been wrong. “Breezy, please.”
“Why are you doing this, Storm?”
“Because I’ve been away from you for years, and in all that time, I’ve never stopped caring about you, no matter how hard I tried. I care about you because you make me want more, I care about you because you make me feel more, and I care about you because when I’m with you, I am more. All I’m asking for is a chance.”
“A chance for what?”
“Everything. I want a chance to have everything with you.”
“You don’t ask for much, do you?”
“Breezy, with you, I can’t imagine ever not wanting more.”
* * *
Bree inhaled his scent—sea, soap, Right Guard, and Storm. She sank into the kiss while his words whipped around her like the wind through her hair. He anchored her against him, and she rode the wave of her rioting emotions. It was a good thing Storm was holding her, because if left on her own, she’d probably be kissing the deck.
A horn sounded and he groaned. “The middle of the harbor is not the place to be doing this. Someone’s gotta sail the damn boat.”
“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” And it was a darn good excuse to get some space and pull herself together. She tried to step away, but his arms tightened around her. He tugged her behind the wheel and pressed his front to her back, sending heat rushing through her that all the wind in the world couldn’t cool.
“Oh no you don’t.” His voice rumbled through his chest and into hers, and his warm breath fanned her ear. “I’m not going to let you go any time soon. Don’t worry. We’ll be back to the marina in no time.” He kicked up the engines, and her pulse increased along with their speed.
“There’s no rush.” Lord knew, she was having a hard enough time coming to grips with what Storm meant when he said everything. She could dissect their conversation for the next year and still have trouble figuring it out. It didn’t help that he held her so close, they were practically shrink-wrapped. There was no hiding her tension or ignoring his erection against her lower back.
“No rush? The hell there’s not. I want to get to the marina where I can focus one hundred percent of my attention on you all night long.”
Storm might as well have zapped her with a stun gun. Everything in Bree’s body perked up. This was so not good.
The trip back to the marina didn’t take nearly long enough. Before she knew it, Storm had the mainsail down, backed the boat into the slip, and tossed ropes to the men on the dock. Storm cut the engine and removed the key.
All Bree heard was water gently lapping against the side of the boat, a distant clang of metal on metal, and the beat of her heart.
Storm walked past her. “Wait right here. I’m going to grab another bottle of wine.”
“Why?”
“Why not? It’s not as if we’re driving, and I thought we could talk now that we’re done fighting.”
Bree was intoxicated enough just being around Storm; she didn’t need to drink any more, but she couldn’t very well say so.
Luckily he hadn’t waited for a response, disappearing belowdecks and popping back up in no time. He wasn’t gone long enough for her to get her bearings, but the way things were going that could take days, maybe weeks.
Storm handed her a glass of wine and sat beside her on the cushioned bench seat, drawing her close. He clinked his glass to hers. “Your turn. Make a toast.”
She’d prefer wishing on a star—at least then she could keep it to herself. “Here’s to Pete’s health.”
Storm looked disappointed but drank to it. “So, tell me why you got involved in the Revitalization Committee.”
Thank God for safe topics. “My dad.” She looked away from Storm and stared at the lights of the city. “My dad worked so hard to clean up the streets of Red Hook. He always said he did it for me and my mom, but even when I was a little kid, I knew how much he loved the community. He and Pete grew up in Red Hook, and he hated what had happened to his home. He wanted to make it better, and being a good cop was the only way he knew how to do that.”
“So you’re doing this in your dad’s memory?”
She looked at him and thought about it. “Yes, it was the only way I knew to stay close to him. Does that make sense? It was the reason I got involved, but that’s not the only reason I’ve stayed involved. I got to know the people of Red Hook. I saw how much the committee could help, and I love being a part of something bigger than myself. The committee is making a huge difference in the lives of so many—it’s very gratifying.”
“Your dad would be really proud of all the work you’ve done.” He kissed her temple. “I know Pop is. You really are amazing. You always were.”
“Pete’s easy.”
“Yeah, maybe. After all, he’s proud of me and Slater and Logan too. But you’re his favorite. Plus, after last night, you and I both know I’m not easy, and you’ve impressed the hell out of me.”
She leaned into Storm and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, that means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.” He really did, a fact that scared her but excited her at the same time. She reined in her emotions; it was safer to stay on topic. “I’ll be happy if we can get the Harbor Pier Project off the ground. It would make a huge difference, bring in new businesses, jobs, a park. It will make that section of the waterfront a real destination. It’s going to be great, provided I can get the zoning board to go along with the change.”
“I’m sure you will.”
She sank deeper into the cushion, letting the rocking of the boat and the wine lull her. “I hope so. I’ve worked for three months on the proposal. It’s about as good as it’s gonna get.”
“I have all the confidence in the world in you.”
“What about you? What are you passionate about?”
“Other than you?”
She rolled her eyes and took a sip of w
ine. “Other than me.”
“My business, and a few years ago I started designing Class 40 racing yachts. It’s a real challenge, and I’m having a good time with it. I have a few contracts, and I’m hoping to expand. Other than that, all I can think about is you.”
Bree wasn’t sure if it was Storm’s kiss, or the way he looked at her as if she were the most precious thing on earth. Maybe it was the way he held her, his heartbeat racing under her palm, or the romantic setting, but it was getting easier and easier to ignore that little voice in her head telling her it was definitely time to cut and run. She put her empty wineglass down on the table and stood.
“I’ll just go down and get my bag. Did you call the driver?” Maybe things would be clearer once she got back on dry land.
Storm followed her below. “I did. He’ll be here first thing in the morning.”
“What?” She spun around, clutching her purse, and ran right into Storm’s chest. “I can’t stay here with you.”
“Sure you can.” He drew her into his arms, ran his hands down her back, and nuzzled her neck. “I’ve got it covered. Rocki’s babysitting; she’ll call if there’s a problem.” His kiss was soft, almost pleading, and so mind-meltingly hypnotic, she couldn’t think. All she could do was feel his fingers sliding over her backside, pressing her against him, his breath flowing into her lungs and filling her with wonder, his tongue teasing, tempting, tormenting. She reached up, encircling his neck, and her feet left the floor. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.
“God, Breezy, you feel so good.” Storm shifted his hands, lifting her until his erection nestled between her thighs, and then it was her turn to groan.
