“Other people’s money. That’s always the way to go.” Derek knew firsthand about borrowing money, especially with the boat business. It was a constant shell game.
“Yes. But now with the cuts in the NEA and the humanities, I don’t know if there will be any funding left.” She suddenly realized she was talking politics and tried to steer away from the subject.
“Washington, DC, certainly seems disconnected from the rest of the country. Don’t you think?” Derek was quite comfortable with the subject and plodded ahead. “I know everyone says the same thing. ‘Drain the swamp.’ Interestingly enough, the capital was built on a swamp.”
CJ had to hold her tongue and tried to move away from that conversation.
“It is interesting. So, Derek, tell me more about your fishing business. Do you go out year-round?”
“We can, but it’s treacherous out there in the winter, so we head south for two months and work with a few other charter companies in Florida and the Caribbean. It’s the only way we can stay afloat.”
“The Caribbean? That doesn’t sound too bad.” CJ was imagining herself on a beach with a cocktail in her hand.
“It’s not.” Derek smiled at her. “It took us a couple of years to figure out we were losing money up here in the winter. Maggie hates that Randy is gone, but he gets home every couple of weeks for an extended weekend.”
“It’s so beautiful here,” she said wistfully. “But it must get pretty cold in the winter.”
“Exactly. Only real diehards want to fish off the waters of Maine in the winter.”
“So you’re not a diehard?” CJ looked up into the pools of emerald.
“Me? No. When I left for college, it wasn’t my intention to help run the family business, but after I graduated Dad hadn’t been feeling well, and Randy was saddled with everything. I had to step in to help keep the family business alive.”
“What were your original plans?” CJ was sincerely interested in learning about this kind, fine-looking man.
“I was planning on getting my master’s in political science.”
CJ almost missed a step. “Really?” she asked, with almost too much incredulity.
“Yeah. I wanted to be one of those people who wasn’t a swamp thing and get into state politics, but then I realized politics was a cesspool at almost every level; and I was really needed here.”
CJ was beginning to tremble.
“You okay?” Derek noticed the chill that went through her.
“Yes. Just a little chilly. I guess I should have brought a sweater or something.”
“We’ll be there in a couple of minutes. A glass of red wine should warm you up.”
“Excellent idea. I’ll stay away from those Slammers!” CJ was trying to quell her anxiety with another joke about her inability to hold her alcohol.
The patio at the restaurant was comfortably warm from the outdoor fire pits.
“This is charming,” she remarked, as Derek pulled her chair out.
As Derek settled into his seat, he glanced at the wine list and ordered a bottle of Flowers Pinot Noir. He then inquired, “So tell me more about Carolyn Johnson. Where did you grow up?”
“New York. So, yes I know of ‘the swamp.’ Oh, you ordered a bottle of Flowers. Donna and I shared one last night.” She was looking for any opportunity to change the subject.
“And how do you know Donna again?” Derek wasn’t giving up.
“We met at an art gallery function.” She was relieved that she could recall her imaginary backstory so quickly.
“And what made you pick Boothbay Harbor?” Derek was still prodding.
“Donna. She kept raving about what a quaint town it is and how art was a big deal here. So I applied for a grant through Pratt, and here I am.” She was hoping that would end what was beginning to sound like an interrogation.
“The Pratt Institute?” Derek was even more engrossed.
“Yep.” CJ was wondering how she could move on to something else. “So what’s your favorite island in the Caribbean?”
“Hard to say. Barbados is great but a very long flight from here. St. Barts is fantastic, too. Jamaica is still a bit underdeveloped, which is a good thing. The mountains and foliage are breathtaking.” Derek realized he was drifting to palm trees and flora. “Where do you like to go for vacation? Or do you spend all your free time working on art projects?” Again, he was trying to steer the conversation back to her.
“Funny. When I was growing up, we spent a lot of summers in the Outer Banks. My parents were killed when I was twelve, and my older brother raised me. He was busy building his business, so we didn’t vacation much. He loved to sail, though, so most of the time it was hanging out at marinas.” She realized she had probably said too much already.
“So you’re familiar with boats?” Derek eyed her carefully.
“Yes and no. I know the difference between port and starboard, but it was my brother who was the skilled sailor.”
“Sorry if this is a sore subject.” Derek was annoyed with himself for bringing it up even if it was inadvertently.
“That’s okay. I do miss him. A lot.” CJ picked up her glass and made a toasting gesture. “Here’s to sailors everywhere.”
“I hope that includes me.” Derek was leaning in a bit. CJ was so out of practice when it came to dating that she wasn’t sure if he was flirting with her.
“I believe it does.” She clinked her glass against his.
Derek decided there had been enough Q & A for the moment. He liked this woman—mystery or not. She was pretty, bright, funny, and very easy to be with. He, too, had a hard time recalling his last pleasant experience with someone of the opposite sex.
They each ordered surf and turf, polished off the bottle of wine, and shared a dessert. “We have about an hour before the fireworks begin.” Derek had glanced at his watch.
CJ was so relaxed and satiated that she had completely forgotten about the fireworks display.
“Oh goody!” She sounded almost childlike.
Derek smiled at this charming woman. “Did Maggie give you the Chamber of Commerce speech about the Harbor Lights Festival? That’s another one of our big claims to fame here. And if you can’t wait until December, we have Harbor Fest in September.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like the ambassador!” CJ teased back. “Yes, Maggie gave me the ten-second elevator pitch. Santa arrives on a boat.”
“It’s another full week of activities. You wonder how anyone gets any work done!” Derek chuckled. “Oh, and a word of caution. We have a drink called Harbor Fist. One too many can knock you out!”
“I don’t doubt it. But I can promise you that I won’t go anywhere near one. I’ve learned my lesson.” CJ sipped her espresso pensively. “Otherwise, it sounds fantastic. I just might have to come back for Harbor Fest, sans Fist.”
“So tell me, you leave after the summer?” Derek wasn’t ready to think about CJ’s leaving. He wanted to get to know her better, probably a lot better. It wasn’t just about satisfying his curiosity about the mystery surrounding this beautiful and charming woman; it was sincerely about getting to know her better.
More idle chatter followed, Derek paid the check, and they headed toward another special place Derek had picked for the fireworks. As they strolled, she resisted the temptation to take his hand but craved some physical contact. She bravely threaded her arm through his as if she needed his guidance along the path. To her delight, he not only did not resist but drew her slightly closer than when they had walked arm in arm earlier. The ease each felt in the other’s company was significant. These two strangers definitely had connected at some basic level.
Before Derek picked her up, he had left a basket with wine, glasses, and a blanket at the spot where they would watch the fireworks. As they approached the grassy area, Derek looked up and saw the Dockside Grill. It was a perfect opportunity to engage in some more detective work.
“Hey, did you hear about that dog rescue yes
terday? A dog went into the drink, and a woman jumped in and saved him!”
CJ almost gagged. By the look on her face, Derek knew it was CJ in that photo. He looked her straight in the eye, and asked, “It was you, wasn’t it?” He wasn’t being so much accusatory but seriously inquisitive.
“Uh. Uh.” She didn’t know how to respond. Derek had nailed it. “Yes. It was me.” She was dejected. Donna would make her leave the next day if she knew Derek had recognized her.
“So why did you bolt with the dog?” Derek was sincerely puzzled.
“It’s a long story. Can we just skip it for the time being?” CJ was pleading. “When no one claimed the dog, I took off. I guess it was a bit silly, but I had to get out of there. I promise we can go into it some other time.”
“Were you dodging someone? Or did you decide you needed a new pet?” Derek was half serious.
“A little bit of both, I suppose. Cute dog, though. We never had pets when we were growing up. My mother thought they were all mangy, and she didn’t want pet hair on her expensive clothing.”
“She sounds a bit tough. Mothers can be that way sometimes.” Derek was beginning to feel the emptiness CJ had experienced for most of her life.
“Sometimes? That was her modus operandi. She was always tough. Frankly, I don’t know how my father put up with her.” CJ once again recalled the late-night arguments she had overheard. “But they say you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, so I’ll just leave it at that.”
Derek instinctively put his arm around her and gave her a tug. “If you want to spill, go ahead. You already puked on my shirt. We’re best friends now!”
She leaned into him, finally able to relax against his muscled arm and shoulder. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I think I said this before, so I apologize for being redundant, but you and your family have been very kind.”
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Johnson.” Derek felt he knew enough about this woman that he needn’t pry further. At least not that night.
They sat quietly for a few moments, then the fireworks display began both on the water and between the two of them. Derek gently brushed a wisp of hair from her face and brushed her cheek. He took her face between both his hands and kissed her gently on the mouth. It was a sweet kiss with the underlying urgency of passion.
CJ’s legs were trembling. Her mind was exploding with thoughts and fears as quickly as her body desired pleasure. She let his soft lips explore hers as her body became flush. She knew she had to stop, but she didn’t know how to slow down without upsetting either one of them. “Derek, I . . .”
He immediately interrupted. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so forward. But you look so beautiful in this light. I had a Cary Grant–Grace Kelly flashback from To Catch a Thief.”
They both broke out in laughter. She and Kick would have movie marathons, and Alfred Hitchcock provided many of their favorites. Quoting Grace Kelly’s character, CJ replied with, “Give up, John. Admit who you are.” The irony was not lost on her as she realized she was begging the question—except it was directed at her.
She felt her face cool a bit, and her body was no longer in a state of arousal—at least for now. A relationship with this man was something she hoped she could pursue if she was able to stay in Boothbay Harbor long enough.
Derek pulled open the basket and retrieved the bottle of Moscato he had wrapped in a thermos quilt, two stemmed wineglasses, and a few chocolate truffles for dessert.
“You really know how to impress a girl.” The Moscato would make it her third glass of wine that evening. They shared a bottle at the restaurant, and now this delicious after-dinner bubbly. It was dizzying, but in a good way, and she felt unencumbered. She was still aware that she was pretending to be Carolyn Johnson, just maybe not as acutely as Donna would have preferred. “You know something, Mr. Wellington? I do believe I am having an incredible evening.”
“My master plan is working.” Derek chortled as he leaned back and rested his elbows on the soft blanket.
CJ joined him in the reclining pose, hoping he would make another move. Or maybe not. She was confused, but also in a good way. This kind of confusion was foreign to her, but at the moment she preferred it to all the other confusion she had been experiencing. She muttered softly, “Go with the flow.” Derek didn’t know if that was an invitation or simply musing on Carolyn’s part. Either way, he hoped he could pursue a relationship further; maybe not that night, but on nights to come.
The exploding colors were spectacular, both overhead and as reflected off the water. CJ thought she had never seen anything quite this spectacular in her life. Having Derek by her side could have accounted for a lot of it as well. So far, it had been a perfect night.
As the grand finale vaporized and flickered, Derek packed up the basket and stood. He reached down to help her up, pulling her close to him again. They embraced in a sweet, gentle way. It was comforting, with both of them understanding that they needed to take their time with this sudden attraction. It was intense. It was all the more reason to proceed with caution, especially with the prospect that she would leave though both secretly hoped she would stay.
On the walk back to the triplex, Derek picked up the dog conversation again. “So where’s the pooch?”
“The what?” In her fanciful state, CJ had almost forgotten about the dog.
“Oh, my new friend, Lucky?” She broke out in a wide grin.
“Is that his name?”
“Her name. I had a hard time at first because of that hideous pirate outfit she was wearing. Imagine putting a patch over the dog’s eye. No wonder she wanted to get outta Dodge!”
“A pirate outfit?” Derek was amused.
“Yes. You’d have thought a sailor suit or something. Even a mermaid if you wanted to go nautical.” CJ was rather adamant about the costume.
“You have quite the opinion in dog fashion.”
“She is a girl after all. I don’t recall any female pirates, ever!”
“Let me disabuse you of that notion.” Derek took on a professorial tone. “There was Anne Bonny, who dressed like a female, but her shipmate Mary Read masqueraded as a male. Our claim to fame is Rachel Wall. Rachel Wall was a Beacon Hill maid, and her husband, George, was a Boston fisherman. After stealing a ship at Essex, they began pirating off the Isle of Shoals. Rachel would pretend to be a damsel in distress and stand out at the mast and cry for help. When the rescuers arrived, George and his men would kill them, rob them of all their valuables, and sink their ship. In 1782, George drowned in a storm, and Rachel was rescued. She went back to Boston and continued to steal, this time from the cabins of ships docked in Boston Harbor. She was accused and convicted of murdering a sailor and was hanged in 1789.”
“Holy cow. They sure don’t teach that in school! I might have paid more attention in history class if they did.”
Derek laughed. “Yes, New Englanders are known for hangings and burnings—not that it’s something we should be proud of!”
“Well, no, but it is fascinating.”
As they strolled lazily toward the triplex CJ almost panicked, wondering what she should do to end the evening. She couldn’t invite him in unless Donna had taken the dog. Now that Derek knew about her rescue accomplishment, she didn’t know how she was going to break the news to Donna. She was sure Donna would have her on the first plane to Reno. As they approached the gate, CJ turned to face him. She grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands. “Wait here,” she directed him with vigor.
“Yes, ma’am!” Derek gave her a salute.
She ran up the steps and retrieved the shopping bag with the shirt. No dog was visible. She knocked softly on Donna’s door. “Hey! How was your date?”
“Fantastic. Listen, I just wanted to see if you had Lucky. I wasn’t sure if I should invite Derek in for a nightcap or not.”
Donna nodded toward the couch. “She’s snoring up a storm. No worries. I’ll keep her for the night.”
“Well, I d
on’t know if it will be all night. I don’t want to move that fast.”
“I hear ya. Just enjoy yourself. Tomorrow is another day, Scarlett.” Donna gave her a wink.
“Thanks. You’re a pal.” CJ turned quickly and headed back to where she had left Derek standing.
“Here. I wanted to repay you for ruining your shirt the other night.” She shoved the shopping bag at him.
“What? What is this?” Derek looked skeptically at the bag from Mona’s when CJ remembered his ex used to work there.
“An apology.”
“For?”
“Ruining your shirt. I hope you threw it away!”
“Well, yes, but you didn’t have to do this.” Derek was pleased but also slightly embarrassed. It was such a thoughtful gesture, raising his opinion of her even higher.
“Oh, I think I did. At least now I can hold my head high and my booze down!”
He gave her a light kiss on the cheek, brushing his lips toward hers.
She eagerly accepted the sweetness of his mouth but was acutely aware that she had to stop. Right now! She gave him what could have been construed as a sisterly hug, but he recognized what she did—they needed to go slow.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Derek. I’d offer to cook for you, but I barely know my way around a microwave.”
“Not to worry. This shirt is more than enough of a thank-you.” He lifted her chin and gave her another luscious kiss. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes. “I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s okay. I’d like to take you out on the boat.”
CJ became alarmed. The boat thing had completely left her mind. What was she to do? “Yes, please call,” was all she could muster.
“I will.”
Chapter 27
CJ had decided not to go back to Donna’s the night before, but with the dawn of a new day, she knew she had to let Donna know that Derek had found out about the dog rescue. She wanted to just savor the feelings from her romantic evening, but that wasn’t going to happen. She had to tell her. A soft knock on the door made her jump slightly. She took in a deep breath and reminded herself once again of one of her favorite author’s advice, “Head up, boobs out, ass in place,” and marched toward the door.
Deep Harbor Page 27
