down to pull the second boat out of the water.
Skye stood up to help position it onto the trailer, looking at him from across the little boat, grateful for the solid boundary it imposed between them. Did she trust that his self-control could prove as reliable a boundary?
They stared at each other in the fading afternoon sunlight, each leaning over the side of the small boat, the moment intense and incredibly intimate even though they weren’t touching. She searched his sea-green eyes, lingering on his dark, beautiful, obscenely-long eyelashes and ignoring the sudden quickness of her breathing.
“I promise, Skye,” he whispered.
And she saw it in his eyes, the sincerity behind his words, the force and weight of his promise. It’s not that she didn’t see desire in his eyes. She did. But the strength of his vow outshone his longing. She felt it in her bones and knew she could trust him.
“I believe you,” she said, dropping his eyes and walking to the first trailer without another word, tugging it back up the dock behind her.
The reason she turned away so quickly…the truth she didn’t want him to discern in her own eyes was that, unfortunately, Skye didn’t totally trust herself.
Yes, Brooks would keep his hands to himself.
But could Skye?
She heard his footsteps squeaking behind her, his wet shoes complaining as he followed her, dragging the second boat.
She’d thought of little else but Brooks since Saturday, reliving the best kiss of her whole life in exacting detail over and over again. Though she knew that Brooks had enjoyed the kiss as much as she, she also sensed he wasn’t comfortable that it had happened. Not then, and not now. Why? Because of Pat? Because it was a mistake? Because he didn’t really want her , but she’d been convenient and available in a romantic moment? She sensed strongly that Brooks wasn’t interested in her on any serious romantic level, and it made her think about the different women with whom he sometimes spent time on his yacht. Maybe it wasn’t personal. Maybe Brooks didn’t want to be attached to anyone.
But why?
Did he like being alone? Did he prefer it?
She frowned as she parked the Opti on the dock, set the brake on the trailer, and pushed it gently into the water, leaning down to cleat the bow line.
For lack of any other diversion in her life, Brooks had become a fascination to her this week. She’d known him for years, yes, but she didn’t really know him outside of the marina and their mutual passion for boats and sailing. Had there ever been someone significant in his life? Had she hurt him? Had she made him swear off romance and love?
Skye couldn’t help wanting answers to her questions, but digging for answers would mean getting to know Brooks on a deeper level, and she feared that any additional intimacy between them would invariably lead to more kissing. And more kissing meant more cheating. And Skye was not a cheater like her shameful, embarrassing, disgraceful escort of a mother.
Brooks’ Optimist sloshed into the water beside hers, and she looked up at him, the question in his eyes unmistakable. Would she still sail with him? Could she?
“You can skipper,” he blurted out. “For the whole week.” He paused, clenching his jaw before releasing it. “I’ll crew for you.”
Her eyes widened and her lips dropped open in shock. She’d never, ever expected this sort of custom-made sugar to sweeten the deal. He trusted her to skipper his boat? His brand new antique Cutter? For the whole week?
A small laugh escaped her mouth, and she quickly covered her lips with her fingers. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope.”
“You mean it? You’d let me skipper?”
He took a deep breath, nodding and finally offering her a grim smile. “I’m out of options. I need you Skye. And yeah, I trust you with my boat. I trust you more than anyone I can think of.”
And quite possibly, those were the words that sealed her fate because they were neither
Skye stood up to help position it onto the trailer, looking at him from across the little boat, grateful for the solid boundary it imposed between them. Did she trust that his self-control could prove as reliable a boundary?
They stared at each other in the fading afternoon sunlight, each leaning over the side of the small boat, the moment intense and incredibly intimate even though they weren’t touching. She searched his sea-green eyes, lingering on his dark, beautiful, obscenely-long eyelashes and ignoring the sudden quickness of her breathing.
“I promise, Skye,” he whispered.
And she saw it in his eyes, the sincerity behind his words, the force and weight of his promise. It’s not that she didn’t see desire in his eyes. She did. But the strength of his vow outshone his longing. She felt it in her bones and knew she could trust him.
“I believe you,” she said, dropping his eyes and walking to the first trailer without another word, tugging it back up the dock behind her.
The reason she turned away so quickly…the truth she didn’t want him to discern in her own eyes was that, unfortunately, Skye didn’t totally trust herself.
Yes, Brooks would keep his hands to himself.
But could Skye?
She heard his footsteps squeaking behind her, his wet shoes complaining as he followed her, dragging the second boat.
She’d thought of little else but Brooks since Saturday, reliving the best kiss of her whole life in exacting detail over and over again. Though she knew that Brooks had enjoyed the kiss as much as she, she also sensed he wasn’t comfortable that it had happened. Not then, and not now. Why? Because of Pat? Because it was a mistake? Because he didn’t really want her , but she’d been convenient and available in a romantic moment? She sensed strongly that Brooks wasn’t interested in her on any serious romantic level, and it made her think about the different women with whom he sometimes spent time on his yacht. Maybe it wasn’t personal. Maybe Brooks didn’t want to be attached to anyone.
But why?
Did he like being alone? Did he prefer it?
She frowned as she parked the Opti on the dock, set the brake on the trailer, and pushed it gently into the water, leaning down to cleat the bow line.
For lack of any other diversion in her life, Brooks had become a fascination to her this week. She’d known him for years, yes, but she didn’t really know him outside of the marina and their mutual passion for boats and sailing. Had there ever been someone significant in his life? Had she hurt him? Had she made him swear off romance and love?
Skye couldn’t help wanting answers to her questions, but digging for answers would mean getting to know Brooks on a deeper level, and she feared that any additional intimacy between them would invariably lead to more kissing. And more kissing meant more cheating. And Skye was not a cheater like her shameful, embarrassing, disgraceful escort of a mother.
Brooks’ Optimist sloshed into the water beside hers, and she looked up at him, the question in his eyes unmistakable. Would she still sail with him? Could she?
“You can skipper,” he blurted out. “For the whole week.” He paused, clenching his jaw before releasing it. “I’ll crew for you.”
Her eyes widened and her lips dropped open in shock. She’d never, ever expected this sort of custom-made sugar to sweeten the deal. He trusted her to skipper his boat? His brand new antique Cutter? For the whole week?
A small laugh escaped her mouth, and she quickly covered her lips with her fingers. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope.”
“You mean it? You’d let me skipper?”
He took a deep breath, nodding and finally offering her a grim smile. “I’m out of options. I need you Skye. And yeah, I trust you with my boat. I trust you more than anyone I can think of.”
And quite possibly, those were the words that sealed her fate because they were neither
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