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“Welcome, Derek.” She gave him a sincere hug, Southern accent warming her words. Paul had met her through a mutual friend in Boston two years earlier and his fate was sealed pretty quickly. “It’s good to meet the man who saved Paul’s life.”
“I don’t think it was quite that dramatic.”
“I know it was. He’s still grateful and so am I.” A timer went off; she grabbed lobster oven mitts and peered into the oven.
Derek looked around the large, airy eat-in kitchen, amused and pleased so much of it was exactly the same as the last time he was here. The loon sculpture, the blobby painting of a seal Sarah had done as a girl, sand dollars and sea glass, a tide clock hanging next to an iron candle holder forged by a local blacksmith. He’d only been here a week, but would never forget the strong sense of love surrounding the Bosson family, and their joy at being together. He hadn’t had much of that in his life, still didn’t, and he’d unapologetically eaten it up. Paul had invited him back a few times, but their schedules never seemed to mesh.
“Can I help, Ellen?”
“No, no.” She set a pan of fragrant rolls onto a cooling rack. “I just got rid of my army of helpers and am finishing in here. Grab a beer and go on outside, I’ll join you in a minute.”
“Here you go.” Paul pulled bottles of beer and lemonade from the old gas refrigerator and tossed the beer to Derek, who was afraid drinking would send him into a coma of exhaustion, but hell, it was a celebration. He’d risk it.
He followed Paul outside, where Paul was immediately pounced on and dragged into conversation. Derek paused on the front stoop, newly entranced by the Bossons’ view. The house sat high on a hill. The land in front—you couldn’t really call it a yard—was covered by juniper bushes and sloped to a steep cliff with a breathtaking panorama of ocean and islands. More tents were pitched to the west of the house, and a tiny cabin, built for the twins to overnight in, perched to the east. At this hour the sun’s full strength had started to wane and colors were deepening—the blue of water, the dark green of firs, graybrown shades of the rocky coastline, and the puffy white of clouds. One of his favorite places on earth. And given that he’d been all over the world and was working out of Hawaii these days, he had plenty of Edens to choose from.
Taking a deep breath of the cool, salty air, he shifted his focus to the other guests, in groups on the front porch and down on the grounds. Fifteen to twenty people. At thirtyfive, he probably had five to ten years on most of them. It had been a long time since he’d been in this type of social situation. On his boat, he was the authority, keeping just enough distance from guests and employees, making the ship’s safety and smooth operation his first priority, the comfort of his passengers a close second. Onshore, he was a temporary or occasional friend to whomever he knew or met wherever he was.
He took a bigger slug of beer than he needed. Paul caught his eye and raised a finger, indicating he’d be right back. Derek waved him off and took another drink. He was a grown man; he could introduce himself to—
“Hi.” The woman was right under his nose, smiling at him, about to come up the steps as he’d been about to go down.
“I’m Addie.” She pointed to her chest, as if he might not know for sure she was talking about herself.
So this was Addie. To put it mildly, she was not what he expected.
The way Paul had described her beauty, wealth, breeding and untouchability in his besotted way had Derek imagining a chilly, elegant brunette dripping sophistication and disdain. The kind who’d show up at a casual island wedding like this one in stiletto heels, linen and pearls. The kind Derek had taken around the world in his boat, the kind with rich older husbands they were always looking to cheat on.
This woman was wearing soft-looking midthigh black shorts, a casual rose-colored scoop-necked top half covered by a gray hoodie, and flat natural color sandals on slim feet. She had deep coffee eyes and striking dark brows, curling short dark hair—a sexy-schoolgirl fantasy come to life. She reminded him of a down-to-earth version of the French actress Audrey Tautou.
He had major hots for Audrey Tautou.
“You’re Addie Sewell.”
“Yes.” The expressive brows lowered in amused confusion. “How did you know?”
“You’re world famous.”
“Ha!” Her wide mouth broke into a smile that took away a good deal of his weariness. “You must be a friend of Paul’s.”
“Derek Bates.”
“Oh.” Her smile faltered, her eyes clouded over, the temperature around them dropped forty degrees. Brrrrr. “Sarah’s told me a lot about you.”
“That’s funny.” He forced himself to chuckle, visualizing a roll of duct tape over Sarah’s mouth. “Sarah doesn’t know a lot about me.”
He expected an insult, an argument, a stinging defense of her friend, and was surprised to find her considering him thoughtfully. “I just know what she told me.”
Derek sighed. He’d leave bad enough alone. It was his word versus Sarah’s and this was her territory and these were her people. “I’m pretty sure I’m sorry to hear that. When did you arrive, Addie?”
“Three days ago. Sunday evening.”
“From…?”
“LaGuardia.” She glanced around, apparently not sure she should be talking to him.
“Into Portland?”
“Bangor.”
“Okay.” He nodded too many times, at a loss what to say next, how to act around a lovely woman who’d undoubtedly been told by her best friend that he was something you should avoid stepping in.
“Weather been good here this week?” Really, Derek? The weather?
“It’s been okay.” She fidgeted with the zipper on her hoodie. “Not great. But at least no rain.”
“What have I missed so far?”
“Oh. Well. We’ve gone hiking on the mainland. Done a lot of hanging out…” She laughed nervously. “I can’t really remember.”
“It’s okay.”
“Oh, Quoddy Head. We went there. The easternmost point in the U.S.”
“Nice.” He nodded again. This was torture. He wanted to skip the small talk. Go straight to what mattered, how she felt about life, whether she was doing what she loved, whether the world was a gorgeous place or a disaster, whether she was seeing anyone, and whether she liked kissing all night under the stars…
He nearly hugged Ellen when she clapped her hands from the front stoop.
“Hey, y’all, we’re ready. Come through the kitchen, grab something to carry and we’ll head down to the beach.”
Derek finished his beer and tossed it into the recycling container set up outside. If he wanted to have fun this week he’d need to do better than this socially. Part of his job was chatting with passengers, so making small talk should be second nature. Instead he felt as if he were trying to exercise a muscle atrophied from years of disuse.
After grabbing a cooler, he joined the procession to the beach, aware of Addie’s presence in the crowd as if she was lit up in neon. He still couldn’t get over how different she was than he expected, or how much she aroused his…curiosity.
The beach was cool and comfortable; a light breeze kept the mosquitoes manageable, though repellent was passed around before everyone settled in. To his relief, Derek eventually got a second—third? fourth?—wind, and was able to relax and enjoy himself. The guests were friendly and easy to talk to, all interesting people with solid views on life and their places in it. The food was simple and abundant: excellent crab rolls, nachos, potato salad and coleslaw, and the beer flowed like…beer.
A few times—more than a few—he glanced over at Addie and caught her just looking away, though she made no move to approach him. He wasn’t sure what to make of her surreptitious inspection. Was she repulsed? Fascinated? Attracted? He was certainly attracted. The more he looked at her, the longer the evening went on, the more he remembered stories Paul told about Addie, the more he was intrigued, and the more beautiful she became. Maybe it was the softening light. Maybe it was the beer. He wanted to talk to her again. Alone.
As the sun lowered, there was a move to light a bonfire and gather around it. Not enough sleep and too much beer, food and conversation propelled Derek to his feet. He could use a break and had a deep need to watch the sunset from a remote corner of the island he remembered as a prime viewing spot. A quick look showed him Addie was missing from the crowd. He’d have liked to invite her along, but that was probably a terrible idea given what she still thought of him, so it was just as well.
Excusing himself from Sarah’s friend Joe, who’d turned out to be an interesting and friendly guy, and Carrie, a piece of work who’d settled on Joe after flirting with pretty much every male at the party, Derek left the beach and headed back into the woods up the hill toward the southwest where he could best watch the evening light show.
As he crested the hill, he glanced back at the house; its shingles glowed majestic gray-pink in the evening light, tents providing a festive carnival atmosphere.
Addie Sewell was coming down the front steps.
Derek stopped short. When she caught sight of him, she did the same. For a few bizarre seconds they stared at each other across the grassy space, then what-the-hell, Derek beckoned to her. She frowned and looked down toward the path to the beach.
This might take some persuading.
“Hey.” He spanned the distance between them across the top of the hill, brushing past goldenrod waving in the breeze. Addie held her ground, chin lifted, watching him approach. “I’m going to take a walk, to check out the sunset.”
She pressed her lips together. An adorable dimple appeared in her right cheek. “Sounds like a good idea.”
“Want to come with me?”
“Oh.” She blushed crimson, eyes darting again to the apparent safety of the woods. Poor woman, trapped by the big bad sexual predator Derek wasn’t. “I don’t know… .”
He’d wait. He swatted a mosquito. Stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. Began whistling.
She giggled. A good sign.
“The sunsets here are breathtaking… .”
“Well.” She gave him a cautious sidelong look. “It has been either cloudy or foggy since I’ve been here.”
He grinned. “I’ll keep my clothes on and my hands to myself, I promise.”
“Oh, no, you don’t need to—” Her eyes shot wide. “Wait! No, yes, you do!”
He laughed and she laughed with him, and then bang, the tension was gone, and he felt lighter than he had all day.
“What I meant was, I’m not worried.” She arched a brow at him. “I have a spectacular right hook, three gold medals in track and a black belt.”
“Weaponry?”
She pointed emphatically into his face. “That, too.”
“I’ll remember.” He smiled, trying to look as blandly safe as possible, so she wouldn’t guess the depth of his attraction. After what she’d probably heard from Sarah, he should act like touching her had never occurred to him.
Though it was starting to be all he could think about.
“So you must have been on Storness Island before, Addie?” He gestured her onto the narrow path in front of him, being the perfect gentleman. The perfect gentleman who wasn’t wrong in thinking her rear view would not exactly be a hardship.
“Actually, no. Sarah invited me a few times, but my parents always had me in summer camp or some program, or we were traveling. So this is new to me.”
“Sounds like you were a heavily scheduled kid.”
“Oh, yeah. They played Mozart while I was in utero. I got infant flash cards, only educational toys, organic food before it was mainstream, you name it.” She spoke matter-of-factly. Was she grateful? Resentful? Resigned? He wanted to get at more of her, only barely understanding his fascination.
“How was that?”
She shrugged, keeping her eyes on the path, an obstacle course of rocks and protruding tree roots. “It was all I knew, so it was fine at the time. Now, it seems a little over the top. They’d lightened up some by the time my brother came along. He’s five years younger. What about you?”
“I’m the oldest of four brothers. My parents did the overachiever conditioning on us, too. It worked pretty well on my brothers. I wasn’t interested.” He reached to touch her shoulder and pointed into the bay where the sunset was gathering force. “Look at that.”
“Beautiful.” She stopped walking, then smiled rapturously and stretched out her arms, as if wanting to embrace the bay. “Don’t you wish all of life was that simple and perfect? After living in the city so long it’s like…well, I miss things like this at home.”
He knew how she felt. “What city? Wait, near LaGuardia obviously, so I’ll guess New York?”
“Manhattan. Where’s home for you?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s a tough question to answer. I don’t have one in the traditional sense.”
“Oh, right.” She turned and kept walking. “You’re the yacht captain.”
He expected the slight sneer. Most people had no idea what the job entailed, how serious his responsibilities and how wide his range of duties. “I’m based in Hawaii right now.”
“Ooh, that must be tough.”
He caught up to her as the path widened down a cranberry-covered hillside, red berries a stunning contrast to the carpet of dark, shiny leaves. “It has its moments. What do you do in Manhattan?”
“I’m an actuary for an insurance company.”
“Ah, a numbers woman.” And a very smart woman. He was impressed. Maybe she’d like to take over for his bookkeeper, Mary, who was due to go on maternity leave in another month. “How do you cope with Manhattan being Manhattan?”
Her mouth puckered a little while she thought. The sun landed on her cheekbones and lit her eyes. He was hit with a strong urge to kiss her. But since he’d only just met her and was trying to show how wrong Sarah was about him…not a good idea.
“In Manhattan you have to retreat into your head. You can’t go out there every day and let the chaos get in your face. At least I can’t. It’s strange what you get used to. A friend on the phone the other day said she could barely understand me over sirens in the background and I hadn’t even heard them.”
“Noisy, crowded, sounds perfect.”
“Oh, but there’s so much culture. So much energy. Anything you want to eat, buy, hear or see, you can find in New York.” She smiled mischievously, mouth generous, lips full. “How do you deal with all that total isolation in the middle of the ocean?”
“Ha. Good question. My answer would probably be something along the lines of, ‘I retreat into my head. You can’t go out there and let the emptiness get in your face.’” He loved the way she laughed, soft and low. “And of course there’s so much beauty. So much peace.”
“Speaking of which…” They’d arrived on the rocky ledge he remembered as the best spot for sunset watching. He wasn’t wrong. The sight was spectacular. Addie crossed her arms; her breasts rose and nestled against each other. She sighed in pleasure.
Derek swallowed. Lack of sleep, beer, this woman…
He was beginning to understand what had happened to Paul.
“I’m curious.” She turned to face him, eyes doe-wide and questioning. The gods were putting his resolve not to touch her to an excruciating test. He wasn’t sure he’d pass. “Did you always want to be at sea instead of settled in one place?”
“Yes. Did you always want to be in the same office and house every day?
“Not specifically, no. But it didn’t surprise me I ended up there.” She tipped her head, mouth spreading again, this time in a troubled smile that was both vulnerable and bewitching.
Derek should step back from her. Derek should stop thinking about her and start thinking about tragedies or trash heaps or tarantulas. Derek needed a good night’s sleep. Or twelve. “Why not?”
“I didn’t have a childhood dream like yours. I always did what was expected of me. My parents prepared me well for my future, and I felt I owed it to them to be successful.”
Ah, a good girl. She was really turning him on now. He wanted to teach her how to be naughty sometimes. “There are all kinds of success.”
“True.” She brushed a stray lock off her forehead. “I guess I’m pretty traditional. Not that exciting.”
Ha. He wasn’t touching that one. Instead he turned her and pointed out into the bay. “Look now.”
“Oh.” Her face brightened; it was all he could do to make himself watch the sunset he was here for. “Incredible.”
