Page 30 of Making Waves

“I knew it wasn’t a good time to get involved with anyone. I had that flight to Rome already booked for a week later to take care of some business for my father.”

“There’s never been a good time for us, has there?” She set aside her unfinished wine. “First I was too young. Then you didn’t want me to wait for you while you were in the Navy.”

He couldn’t read her mood. But he sensed an undercurrent of tension – a frustration with him.

“Nowis a good time.” He’d turn this boat around and make serious time back to the Cape if she would agree. He’d be home twice as fast as they’d gotten this far, thanks to the prevailing winds.

“Only because of another bet, right?” She pushed his plate to the side so there was a clear path between them to lean farther across the small table. Her fingers brushed his chest. Right over the steady thump of his heart. “I ended up with you tonight because of a contest for sexual favors.”

And didn’t that sound sordid as hell, all of the sudden? He hadn’t meant it that way.

“We’re not together because of any bet.” He clamped his hand around her wandering fingers, unwilling to take things farther if she had any reservations about his motives. No matter how much he wanted her. “It’s a good time for us now because we’re older and wiser, plus there’s still one hell of a spark between us. Come back home with me and we can explore this thing without a time limit. Without the impending deadline of Bar Harbor hanging over us.”

She stilled in his grip.

“I seem to recall you weren’t terribly concerned about imposing deadlines on our relationship when you were the one who wanted to stretch his wings.” She didn’t spell it out, but he gathered she was trying to equate his commitment to the Navy with her sudden urge to run a bed and breakfast in Maine.

Another time, he might have debated the point with her, but right now, he realized he had zero desire to do battle. He didn’t want to waste a second of what little time they might have left together. They’d be in Bar Harbor tomorrow no matter how much he dragged his feet on the rest of the voyage.

“You’re right,” he conceded. Picking up his napkin, he waved it. “See my white flag? I surrender.”

“That fast?” She blinked and peered over her shoulder. “Where did my competitive ex-boyfriend disappear?”

He wasn’t so sure himself, but his best guess was that he wasn’t the same man she’d dated four years ago. Since returning home eight weeks ago, he hadn’t made a plan for what he would do when he saw her, but he’d always imagined he’d at least look her up and see what she was doing. He’d known she was single since none of her relationships after him had lasted very long.

Seeing her here on Keith’s boat- holding her in his arms and remembering what they’d been like together – had forced his hand where she was concerned. If he didn’t make a play for her now, he’d never be with her again. And the thought of her stepping off this boat without looking back made his chest ache with a hollowness he couldn’t deny.

“You know we’ll arrive in Maine by tomorrow afternoon, right?” He loosened his hold on her hands, his thumb trailing over her knuckles and gliding down the tops of each individual finger.

Her skin was smooth. Perfect.

“I guessed we’d get there pretty quickly once we moved away from the coastline.” She glanced down at their clasped hands.

“Since there is an undeniable deadline involved with our arrival, I don’t want to waste one second between then and now arguing about anything. Not who caught the bigger fish or who owes who a sexual favor. I want a truce for as long as we’re on this boat together.”

Mostly, he wantedher - every second between now and when they docked.

* * *

As far as Alicia was concerned, it seemed a perfect metaphor for their relationship that they were adrift at sea in the dark. Actually, the comparison could only be more apt if she jumped overboard again. Any way she looked at the situation, she was in too deep with Jack. She couldn’t make heads or tails of where they were headed, but she couldn’t let go of his hands if she tried.

Tomorrow, in Bar Harbor, she would sort it all out.

Tonight, the only lighthouse on the horizon was what she felt for Jack.

“A truce.” She nodded, the movement jerky and uncoordinated thanks to the buzz of anticipation that vibrated through her limbs. “I like that. But I don’t think that means we need to forego the promise of sexual favors.”

Her voice didn’t resemble her own in her ears, the low, throaty murmur seeming to belong to someone else.

“No?” The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he leaned across the table, impossibly close. His lips brushed hers lightly. “Maybe we could make an exception as long as the recipient is willing to give as good as he gets.”

His tongue teased a path along her lower lip, sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine. Her world narrowed to the stubble-rough feel of his jaw against her face. The scent of ocean and aftershave.

“I trust you implicitly on that one.” She lifted a hand to his cheek and traced the outline of the dramatic bone structure that helped give all the Murphy men their good looks. “You’re very generous that way.”

He broke the kiss to stand. Tug her out of her seat and into his arms.

They stood, feet braced on the gently swaying boat, sizing each other up in the glow of the candlelight and the white all-around light that shone from the boat’s highest point. Her heart raced with the desire to wrap herself around the sexy stud in front of her. She played with fire to be with him, but she was irresistibly drawn to his dark good looks and the wicked gleam in his green eyes. Jack was a man of endless capabilities, a man she respected.

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