Going Overboard by Vicki Lewis Thompson Page A

make a public scene, now, would he? She had him. And at least she knew he’d been writing about her instead of doing his work. That almost made up for his stupidity in thinking that she could be reduced to a list on a computer screen.
    C HANCE DIDN’T LIKE the quality of the sand holding the mooring stakes. The night before there had been a more solid feel to the way the stakes went into the ground, and he’d never doubted they’d hold, even in a wind. The sand was more loosely packed here, but they had to do the best they could to secure the boat. Even if Nicole wasn’t seasick, he couldn’t imagine how they’d back out of this narrow spot with the wind blowing the way it was. He would have preferred a different mooring inlet, but this was the one they had, and they’d make the best of it. To anchor the stakes more securely, he and Bowie piled large rocks around them.
    They decided to have a picnic on the beach. Although gusts of wind blew sand into their food during the meal, nobody suggested going back on the boat. At least two-thirds of the hull remained in the water, and there was too much motion to consider moving the picnic inside and risking a relapse for Nicole. Chance kept an eye on the stakes, which seemed to be holding.
    After lunch, Bowie and Nicole walked to the edge ofthe water to rinse the dishes. Chance pretended to doze on a beach towel, but he soon became completely absorbed watching Andi throw potato chips to a pair of ravens. Bigger and glossier than the crows he’d seen in the Midwest, they would glide down from the rock ledges where they apparently lived, seize the morsels she threw and retreat again.
    Andi’s blond hair danced and became tangled in the wind, making her look like a wild thing herself as she called to the birds, coaxing them nearer. His eyes hidden behind shades, he was able to study the lace-covered strips of bare skin revealed by her black suit, and how the lace shifted as she leaned down to get more chips and toss them gracefully to the birds.
    He allowed himself to imagine kissing his way down those lace strips before he slowly peeled them away. Much as he loved his brother and sister-in-law, he wished they could beam themselves somewhere else for about two hours. Knowing they’d trudge back up the beach any minute, he turned over on his stomach to hide the evidence of his thoughts. The warm sand shifted a little beneath his erection, but it wasn’t nearly the sensation he had in mind.
    The potato-chip bag was within reach. He pulled it over just as Andi turned and came back for more chips.
    She walked toward him and dropped to her knees in front of him. “You have my chips.”
    He propped his head on one hand and looked up at her. “Want some?”
    She held out her hand.
    He reached into the bag, took out one chip and put it in her outstretched hand.
    Her gray-green eyes were covered by sunglasses, butthe corners of her full mouth tilted up. “You’re flirting with me, right?”
    “Right.” “So, did you go shopping this morning, too?” she asked.
    “Would it make any difference to you if I did?”
    “Possibly.”
    “Then it’s possible I went shopping.”
    “Oh my God!” Bowie shouted. “Chance! The stakes!”
    Chance surged to his feet at the sound of Bowie’s shout. One set of stakes had pulled out, and the huge boat was blowing sideways. If somebody didn’t turn the craft, it would wedge itself on the beach, the motors out of the water. They’d be marooned.

8
    C HANCE SPLASHED into the water and grabbed the mooring stakes just as Bowie leaped in beside him and took hold of the ropes. Pulling together they battled the wind that pushed relentlessly against the side of the houseboat.
    Andi joined them, latching on to a section of rope. “Problem?”
    “Hell, no,” Chance said. “We’re just showing off.”
    “Glad to hear it. I hate problems.” She started pulling with him.
    Nicole appeared beside Bowie and put her hands on the taut rope.
    “No,