Wet Dreams

by Emily Bishop

  It was a rhetorical question, and he clearly knew it because he let me keep venting without saying a word. He simply nodded every now and then and followed my every move with his keen eyes.

  “I’ve forgiven him for lying to us about who he was, and I’m over that. I understand why he did it now, but I still can’t get over who he is. Where would our family have been if it wasn’t for his? Would we even have been in Mystic? Would we still have been in Texas?”

  I kept on ranting. “The Perkins family completely and irrevocably altered the course of our lives. How could I get involved with one of them?” I moaned and covered my eyes with the heels of my hands, finally standing still. “Why did I get involved with him in the first place? You hate him, even if it is by association. I can’t believe that I did that to you.”

  My dad hesitated, then walked up to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, leading me to the sofa. “Sit down, baby.”

  I did as he asked, still too embarrassed and confused to sit completely still. I drummed my fingers on my thighs and bounced my right leg. “I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should never have done this to you.”

  My father dropped down to his haunches in front of me, gently taking my hands in his. “You didn’t do anything to me, Fiona.”

  “That’s not true.”

  A rueful smile played on my dad’s lips, stopping me from continuing.

  “You know, I’ve never seen you quite so passionate about anything,” he remarked, heaving himself onto his side of the sofa since I’d stopped bouncing.

  “What?” I asked. I’d been thinking that I couldn’t possibly feel more confused. I’d been wrong.

  A faraway look appeared in my father’s eyes, and they became slightly glassy. I wasn’t sure if it was from memories or from tears that were threatening to spill. “You remind me so much of your mother sometimes.”

  Tears and memories, then. It made tears jump to my eyes, too. My voice cracked with emotion. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “When she was younger, your mother used to do the exact same thing when she was passionate about something. She would rant and rave and vent for hours on end. Watching you just now was exactly like watching her, though I never watched her do it over another man.” He winked playfully at me as he said the last sentence.

  “I’d hope so,” I breathed.

  He released a genuine chuckle, a fond smile lighting up his face as he remembered. “Yeah, I sat through her vents on just about everything else, though. It was because of her that I became passionate about sustainable energy and why I passed that passion on to you.”

  He’d never told me that. A tear escaped from the corner of my eye as he continued, “She was a hell of a woman, your mom. I loved her with everything that I had in me. I still do.”

  I hadn’t seen my dad looking that wistful in forever, if ever. He turned his eyes back to me. “Did she ever tell you that she claimed to have known that she was going to marry me the second that she laid eyes on me?”

  I shook my head, my eyes wide as I waited for him to gather his thoughts. I hated sometimes that there was so much that I’d never learned from my mother, that so much of who she was had to be learned from my father’s memories. I was lucky that he had the memory of an elephant when it came to her.

  “She believed that something clicked into place when you met your soulmate, like the universe would pull you toward that person, no matter what, and that as soon as you met—” He snapped his fingers. “—click.”

  I stared at him, dumbfounded. “What are you saying?”

  “What I’m saying is… I wonder if Shane isn’t that person for you. The way you’re raving, it certainly looks that way.” My dad didn’t look angry or resentful. If anything, he looked at peace as he said the words I never thought that I’d hear him say.

  I could do nothing but gape at him for several long seconds. “Are you serious right now?”

  He nodded as if he was deep in thought, then met my eyes again. “I am. I think you’re in love with him. Are you?”

  I felt like someone had dunked a bucket full of icy water over my head. As if my mind was emerging from a haze, I realized that, while the idea was laughable this early in a relationship, it might just be true.

  I had no choice but to answer honestly. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, only you can answer that for sure, but I want you to know that I won’t stand in the way if that pull toward him exists for you.”

  It did. I was stunned.

  “But he’s a Perkins,” I blurted out stubbornly.

  My dad let out a low laugh. “He is, but that doesn’t change the way that you feel about him, sweetie. The heart wants what it wants.”

  “Even him?” I asked hesitantly. “What about you? And what Mr. Perkins did to you?”

  “Even him,” he replied confidently. “The truth is that what Mr. Perkins did might have been unethical under the circumstances, but he was a businessman who saw the opportunity to make more money by using cheaper suppliers in the procurement process. If he’d given us notice, it wouldn’t even have been unethical, and it would’ve had the same result.”

  “So?” My head was spinning by this point in time. It was just so much to take in.

  “Business is always going to be a tough world, Fiona. Choosing suppliers is always going to be the prerogative of the customer, and if they choose to let you go, it’s sink or swim. Just like the decision often is for them.”

  “You hate them, though,” I whispered, wiping a stray tear from my eyes.

  “I used to hate them. You know that I’ve been working at that. Any resentment that I still harbor is aimed at Mr. Perkins, not at Shane. He was a kid when his dad made those decisions. He can’t be held responsible for them any more than you can be held responsible for not being able to keep our family business afloat. It just took me a while to realize that.”

  “So, you don’t hate him?” I almost couldn’t believe it.

  My dad shook his head. “I’m not saying that I’m crazy about the guy, but no father loves the guy his little girl falls in love with. At least at first.”

  “At first?” I asked, incredulously.

  “At first. Maybe ever. Heck if I know. This is the first time my little girl has fallen in love. I’ll have to ask around to see if there’s any chance of ever loving the man, too.” He smiled teasingly.

  “I still don’t know if I love him,” I repeated, though I was quite sure what the answer was.

  “We’ll figure it out together, then. You figure out if you love him, and I’ll figure out how to live with the fact that there’s another man in my daughter’s life. Even if it turns out just to be research, I’m armed with the knowledge when the time comes.”

  “Drew’s always been the man in my life,” I said, laughing and feeling lighter than I had since Shane left.

  “Yeah, but Drew’s a man in mine, too,” my father teased back. “He’s always been the son I never had.”

  Drew himself chose that exact moment to stick his head into the living room. I glanced at my watch. I hadn’t realized that it was time for their weekly catch-up session.

  “I sincerely hope that I’m the son you never had,” Drew said, eyes crinkled in laughter as he made himself comfortable. Drew was as at home in my father’s house as he was in his own.

  “You are, but you may be gaining a brother-in-law soon if my gut is right,” my father joked.

  I threw a cushion at him but he dodged it neatly. Drew’s eyes grew wide.

  “I thought that Shane guy moved back to Houston.”

  “He did,” I said.

  The joy I’d felt just a second ago was sucked away from me when reality set in. It didn’t matter what my dad thought, or how I might feel. Any relationship between Shane and I was doomed anyway, what with the long-distance thing.

  “Then who am I gaining as a brother-in-law?” Drew asked, looking thoroughly confused.

  “No one,” I said. “My mom had this t
heory about the universe, and my dad thinks that I’m in love with Shane. I’ll let him catch you up. I need to take a walk. Clear my head.”

  “You are in love with him, Fee. I could’ve told you that much.” Drew smirked, then his expression turned worried. “That was never the problem though, was it?”

  “Nope, I guess not. Looks like everyone knows what I feel but me.” I sighed.

  “There’s a difference between not knowing and not wanting to admit it to yourself,” Drew said, showing one of his rare bits of true insight.

  I bit back the urge to throw a pillow at him, too, and ducked out instead, waving to the only two men who were constant in my life.

  Once I was outside, I decided to take the long way home, the way that conveniently passed the house where Shane had been staying while he’d been in town. I just felt like being close to him right now, and his house was the best I could do, even if he wasn’t there.

  I fished my phone out of my bag, trying to call him when I neared the place. I’d never been there but I had a rough idea of where it was. Instead of reaching him, I was redirected to his super-professional, work voicemail.

  For what felt like the hundredth time that day, the reality that Shane was back in Texas and wasn’t coming back for me slapped me across the face like a cold, smelly fish.

  Reality sucked. I didn’t leave a message.

  I didn’t know why I wanted to walk miles out of my way to Shane’s house, only maybe that it was time to say goodbye to the idea that we could have been together.

  Whatever it was, I turned the corner to where I thought the house was situated and saw a familiar truck parked in the driveway. My heart leaped and started pounding in my chest, like there was a magnet pulling it toward its mate.

  Then I remembered that you couldn’t take a truck on a plane. It was probably just a truck that came with the house. I’d watched a reality show once, where some multi-millionaire had garages full of cars at each one of his six vacation homes.

  Shane was a billionaire. It figured that he would have at least a truck to leave behind in Connecticut.

  When the house came into full view, I was surprised that there wasn’t something fancier than a truck outside of it. It was a huge two-story house, with a lush, sprawling front yard.

  My heart sank when I realized that, other than the truck, there were no signs of life. There was a reasonable explanation for the truck being there, and it didn’t include Shane having come back. I had no choice but to face reality. Again. It really was a bitch.

  I looped around the house, deciding that I wanted to see if I could find the boat he had been working on. Maybe I could finish it for him sometime, as kind of a surprise for when, or if, he returned. And I’d be sure to use the proper materials.

  At first, when I saw the well-sculpted, golden-skinned back hunched over a workbench, I thought that my eyes were playing tricks on me.

  Shane turned around slowly, and sure enough, there he was working on his Nymph.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Shane

  I was so close to finishing the boat, I could practically feel the wind in my hair as I took her out on the water for the first time. I got home earlier that day and immediately went to the hardware store but neither Fiona nor Drew were there.

  The owner told me that they had Mondays off, which I’d actually known, since it had been a Monday morning when Fiona and I wound up fishing together. But I hadn’t put two and two together in my excitement to see her.

  My next stop was her house but she wasn’t there, either. Logically, I knew that she was either fishing or at her father’s but I drove past the slip and she wasn’t there. And I wasn’t about to go knocking on Randy’s door.

  I was disappointed that I hadn’t been able to find her and surprise her with the fact that I was back, but I thought I would finish the boat that morning and then go find her later on so that she could share its maiden voyage with me. Hopefully.

  Never in a million years did I think, when I heard the slight rustle of leaves in my backyard, that I’d turn to find her there, staring at me as if she was torn between jumping into my arms or poking me to see if I was really there, too.

  The corners of my mouth turned up into a wide grin. The relief coursing through me at the sight of her was nearly painful. I opened my arms and, as if someone had pulled the trigger on a starting pistol, she shot straight into them, laughing as she climbed up me.

  Fiona wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips and hung on. Her laughter turned into a relieved kind of sobbing. She felt like heaven in my arms. Her soft skin melted into mine, and her intoxicating scent enveloped me.

  “You’re really here,” she sobbed, running her hands up and down my back.

  I tightened my hold on her, never wanting to let her go. “I am.”

  “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

  I shouldn’t have but I didn’t tell her that.

  “I couldn’t stay away,” I admitted. I was done lying to her.

  “What about the company?” she asked, planting soft kisses on the underside of my jaw and over my neck and shoulders.

  “What about it?”

  It was madness really, what I’d done. I left Houston on a whim, without the permission of the board and days after firing the only person who had a hope in hell of doing my job half-right.

  “I don’t care anymore,” I said. “I made my choice.”

  “What?” She released her grip on me, and I unwillingly let her slide back to her feet. Her eyes were wider than saucers, burning like sapphires as she cupped my face between her hands. “What did you do?”

  “I know it’s a shock. I’m kind of shocked, too, but I’m also grateful.” I let my hands fall to her hips, my fingers digging into her skin as if I was the one who was unsure if she was real. “I was sleepwalking through life before I met you, Fiona. Like some billionaire zombie, ravaging everything in my path.”

  She blinked away happy tears. Or at least, I fucking hoped that was what they were.

  “You’re too hot to be a zombie,” she said.

  Just like that, the ice was broken, and we both burst out laughing. I pulled her in for another hug, relishing every second that I had with her. And if I was being honest with myself, just so that I could touch her for a little while longer.

  When she eventually wriggled her way out of my grasp, she eyed my boat, grabbed my hand, and dragged me toward it.

  “I’m just about done,” I said. “I was getting ready to get this baby out on the water. Would you care to join me?” I extended my hand and dropped into a deep bow.

  Fiona hooted with laughter at my playfulness. “Sure. Where did you have in mind to christen her?”

  It was my turn to laugh when Fiona blushed, clearly realizing the double entendre of her question. “I’m not picky.”

  She swatted my arm, groaning. “I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, right. Keep it in your pants, Fiona. Jeez.”

  She slapped my arm harder but her eyes twinkled with laughter. “Keep it up, Shane, and I just might.”

  I raised my hands in mock surrender. “I take it back. I take it all back.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  “So, where do you think is the best place to take the Nymph out?”

  She shook her head at me and narrowed her eyes in mock displeasure. “Now he asks for my advice? Are you asking just so that you can ignore it?”

  I shrugged. “We’ll see. How about I load her up and you file our float plan? That way, we have to go wherever you think is best.”

  A float plan was similar to a flight plan filed by pilots, only it wasn’t filed with the authorities, and usually involved telling a friend or relative where you were planning on going out to. In Mystic, you could file a float plan with the marina.

  We worked well as a team. Before we knew it, we were dragging my new creation out into water, and off we went
. I kept the boat parallel to the shoreline, and we wound our way into one of the inlets branching off from the bay.

  Out here, we were almost all alone. The only other boat nearby was a plucky little speed boat towing a water skier behind it. But even the drone of that engine didn’t ruin the peaceful surroundings.

  Trees hugged the coastline, jutting from the sandy soil like silent spectators. Birds flew lazily overhead, searching for their next meal. The bright green water rocked the boat gently, stirred up by the speed boat’s wake.

  I started noticing water seeping in from somewhere. Fiona spotted it at the same time that I did.

  “I told you that glue wouldn’t hold,” she said.

  “It’s not the glue. There’s something else wrong.” I pointed to the spot where the water was mainly leaking in. There was no join at it.

  “What’re you insinuating?” she snapped, nostrils flaring with annoyance.

  “We’re swamping,” I said. “Let’s argue about this when we get back to shore, okay?”

  “Fine,” she agreed.

  She reached for the emergency kit and pulled out a patch kit. We leaned over the leaky spot and tried to close it up.

  I didn’t notice the speed boat’s engine getting louder. I didn’t think about it at all until our boat was struck by the errant wake from the speed boat.

  The Nymph tipped sideways. I shifted my weight in the opposite direction, trying to keep the light craft balanced. Fiona’s hands were full with the patching kit, and she wasn’t able to grab hold of anything to steady herself.

  Then the second wave from the speed boat’s wake crashed into us. Fiona toppled overboard seconds before the small boat capsized.

  There was a faint thump, barely audible over the roar in my ears as I went under. Instinctively, I knew that the boat had hit Fiona. Or something on it had hit her. That sound was not a good thing, and since I was uninjured, it had to be her.

  Panic seized my heart, almost causing me to freeze up. But I forced my limbs into motion and started swimming vigorously for the surface. I could only just see Fiona’s legs from where she was floating under the capsized boat, completely motionless.