Page 8 of Deep Waters
Zach: Wouldn’t miss it.
Rae: Thanks, Zach. Let’s leave at five.
Tossing my phone aside, I stripped out of my clothes, stepping into the shower to clean up. My sailboat’s shower was miniscule, leaving me eager for a few months in a house with a real bathroom. A real bed. And Rae.
I swallowed, visions of her rolling in white sheets, hair tumbled around her shoulders, yielding a predictable response. Handling the situation left me wrung out but calmer. Living with Rae, even temporarily, was going to take all my willpower.
She might be free, but that didn’t make her interested.
Monday night I waited on the dock besideSailor Swift, black duffel at my feet. Rae hopped easily over the side of her boat, a backpack slung across one shoulder.
I’d never met someone so at home in their own skin, so effortlessly cool. Her curly mop of brown hair was usually tied back from her face, revealing her intelligent brown eyes. She had a strong, athletic figure that she sheathed in coveralls for workdays spent on and around boat engines. She wore the occasional grease streak like a badge of honor, and I couldn’t fault her.
She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Wasn’t afraid to dive into danger or the inner workings of marine electrical systems. She managed to project a fearlessness that challenged me to match her. Just being around Rae made me stronger. Somehow, her confidence calmed my nerves, reinforcing my own belief that, together, we could tackle whatever challenge came our way: a complicated rescue, a ghost in my sailboat’s navigation system, or a few weeks parenting her cousin’s kids.
Tonight, she looked softer. Maybe it was the jeans that hugged her hips, or the sleeveless top that showed off her biceps. She was sleek andsexy. One tempestuous curl refused to be tamed, caressing her cheek, sprung free of her messy topknot. She bit her bottom lip, the contrast between her white teeth and pink mouth only serving to remind me how much had changed. For the first time, I let myself notice the swell of her breasts. The arch of her neck. The height that made her more than a match for me.
“Ready?”
She asked it almost cautiously, as if still unsure how I’d react to seeing her again after her last bombshell. I met her gaze, face calm.
“Ready, Captain.”
Her shoulders relaxed at my use of her nickname. I drove us out to Jia’s house on the outskirts of town. Rae picked at the hole in her jeans, seeming preoccupied.
“You nervous?” I asked.
Her gaze met mine. “About what?”
“Watching the kids, of course.”
“For sure.”
I reached for her hand, tangling my fingers with hers. She squeezed back—only for a moment, but her bid for comfort made me say, “You’re going to be great.” And I meant it. Rae had a quiet competence that immediately put those around her at ease. If Rae said she’d do it, it was good as done. Watching Hana and Tae would be no different.
Jia and the kids came into Harbor Brews often enough that I knew Hana liked whipped cream on her hot cocoa and Tae preferred herbal tea. But I hadn’t spent any extended time with them. They struck me as sweet, quiet children. Which meant they were probably hellions at home. Once upon a time, Drew, Cole, Vi, and I had people fooled too.
Jia and the kids spilled from the house as I parked next to Jia’s Subaru. Jia Dawkins looked sturdy and capable, just what you wantedin your Coast Guard. Little Hana’s hair was pulled back in lop-sided pigtails. She was dressed head-to-toe in pink. Tae’s bowl cut shadowed serious dark eyes, his shorts and tee-shirt neat and tidy in a way I found unnatural for a ten-year-old.
Jia hugged Rae before extending a hand to me. “Thank you,” she said, her expression sincere. “I really appreciate you stepping in to help with the kids.”
“Happy to.”
And I truly was. Jia had been through a difficult few months. First her husband’s accident, then her mother’s surgery. With the rest of her family taking care of her mother, Rae was the next logical choice to act as the kids’ guardian while she was away. I was just bonus help.
Hana peered at me shyly from behind Rae’s thigh. Tae shook my hand, expression serious. Already the man of the house. My heart ached for him, the responsibility too much for his frail shoulders.
The next few minutes were a whirlwind of a house tour and greeting the kids. There were four bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs. Each kid had their own room. My room was the designated guestroom, but judging from the luggage and boxes crammed in the closet, it also served as family storage. Rae took over Jordan and Jia’s bedroom. This arrangement left the kids’ rooms in between us.
Everything was clean and comfortably worn, the hall and guestroom painted in muted tones while the kids’ rooms were splashed with bright color. Scrapes and dents in the walls and baseboards told the story of a house that children lived in. It made me think fondly of the family farmhouse and the constant chaos of living with three siblings, my parents, and my grandmother. It wasn’t always pretty, but it was home.
Watching Jia say goodbye to her children nearly broke my heart. Tae hugged her stoically, chin firm. Hana blubbered, soaking her mom’sjeans in minutes. Rae pried her away and into a hug so Jia could slip behind the wheel of her car. The wet stain on Jia’s pants would dry long before we could console young Hana.
Jia’s eyes welled with tears, but it was clear she was trying to be strong. Hana cried in Rae’s arms, Tae and I waving until Jia’s car was long out of sight.
“This calls for ice cream for dinner.”
Hana pulled her tear-stained face from Rae’s chest, her eyes round.
