One Good Reason (A Boston Love Story Book 3) by Julie Johnson Page A
Authors: Julie Johnson
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he asks, bouncing again. The board slips closer to the edge of the rail. “You worried about me?”
“No.” I swallow. My eyes are locked on his tread-less leather shoes — sliding again and again — and I feel my stomach clench. “You’re going to fall into the fucking harbor and I am not jumping in after you, man-child.”
“Aw.” He laughs. “You’re worried about my welfare. It’s cute.”
I make an incredulous sound. “Only you would interpret that statement as cute .”
“How much longer are you going to delay getting on the boat?”
“At the very least until you stop bouncing like a six-year-old in an inflatable castle.”
He stops, but his boyish grin never wavers. “There — I’ve stopped. Now, come on, scaredy cat. You won’t fall in. I’ve got you.”
My chin jerks up. “I’m not scared.”
I’m not scared of anything .
“Prove it,” he says, that challenging look back in his eye.
I grit my teeth and reach down to pull off my heels, one by one. Without saying a word, I shove them into the space between us and wait for Parker to take them.
His mouth opens, a question poised on his lips.
“Shut up,” I cut him off, still holding out the shoes. “And take the damn heels before I change my mind.”
He’s silent as his large hands close around the slingback straps and even manages not to say anything as I grudgingly pass over my laptop bag. He can’t quite hide the way his lips twitch, though, as he watches me jumping from foot to foot on the freezing dock, trying to stay warm.
“Not a word,” I mutter in a threatening tone.
His eyes glitter with amusement but he remains silent.
Forcing a deep breath into my lungs, I make myself take a step onto the gangway. And then another. And another.
I’m watching my feet, entirely focused on not toppling into the water, so I don’t notice Parker hasn’t moved from the middle of the board. I bump straight into his chest, the jolt of my body against his throwing me off balance. For a split second, I actually think I am going to fall into that icy water and drown.
“Whoa,” he whispers, his hands coming up to steady my shoulders. I can feel the warmth of his strong palms radiating through my thin blazer. My pulse is pounding like a kick-drum as we stand suspended over the water, eyes locked. Invading each other’s space. Breathing each other in.
“There. That wasn’t too hard, was it?” he asks in a soft, serious tone.
I pause and, equally serious, whisper, “That’s what she said.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “I could kiss you, for that,” he says when he’s done chuckling.
“You’d better not,” I warn. “Or I’ll push you in the harbor and leave you to freeze. And I’ve heard hypothermia isn’t exactly a bucket of laughs.”
“You happen to know the cure for hypothermia?” he asks, grinning.
“I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”
“Best way to warm up — climb inside a sleeping bag naked with the nearest available human.” His eyes crinkle. “That would be you, darling.”
“I think I’d rather let you freeze. I’ve heard your appendages turn black and fall off.” My eyes narrow. “Fingers. Toes. Your pen—”
“AH!” He cuts me off with a grimace. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
Muttering something under his breath about me being evil, he turns and walks onto the sailboat. I keep my eyes on his shoulder blades as I follow him onboard, and with the warmth of his presence radiating through my chest, I don’t spare a single bit of attention to the icy water beneath my feet.
----
“ H ere .” Parker shoves a ball of fabric at me almost as soon as we step down into the cabin — it looks vaguely like the suit the Gorton’s fish stick man wears, but it’s white instead of bright yellow. I stare at it like a venomous animal.
“What is that?”
“Just put it on.” He moves closer and bends until we’re eye to eye. “It’ll be huge on you, but at least it’ll
“No.” I swallow. My eyes are locked on his tread-less leather shoes — sliding again and again — and I feel my stomach clench. “You’re going to fall into the fucking harbor and I am not jumping in after you, man-child.”
“Aw.” He laughs. “You’re worried about my welfare. It’s cute.”
I make an incredulous sound. “Only you would interpret that statement as cute .”
“How much longer are you going to delay getting on the boat?”
“At the very least until you stop bouncing like a six-year-old in an inflatable castle.”
He stops, but his boyish grin never wavers. “There — I’ve stopped. Now, come on, scaredy cat. You won’t fall in. I’ve got you.”
My chin jerks up. “I’m not scared.”
I’m not scared of anything .
“Prove it,” he says, that challenging look back in his eye.
I grit my teeth and reach down to pull off my heels, one by one. Without saying a word, I shove them into the space between us and wait for Parker to take them.
His mouth opens, a question poised on his lips.
“Shut up,” I cut him off, still holding out the shoes. “And take the damn heels before I change my mind.”
He’s silent as his large hands close around the slingback straps and even manages not to say anything as I grudgingly pass over my laptop bag. He can’t quite hide the way his lips twitch, though, as he watches me jumping from foot to foot on the freezing dock, trying to stay warm.
“Not a word,” I mutter in a threatening tone.
His eyes glitter with amusement but he remains silent.
Forcing a deep breath into my lungs, I make myself take a step onto the gangway. And then another. And another.
I’m watching my feet, entirely focused on not toppling into the water, so I don’t notice Parker hasn’t moved from the middle of the board. I bump straight into his chest, the jolt of my body against his throwing me off balance. For a split second, I actually think I am going to fall into that icy water and drown.
“Whoa,” he whispers, his hands coming up to steady my shoulders. I can feel the warmth of his strong palms radiating through my thin blazer. My pulse is pounding like a kick-drum as we stand suspended over the water, eyes locked. Invading each other’s space. Breathing each other in.
“There. That wasn’t too hard, was it?” he asks in a soft, serious tone.
I pause and, equally serious, whisper, “That’s what she said.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “I could kiss you, for that,” he says when he’s done chuckling.
“You’d better not,” I warn. “Or I’ll push you in the harbor and leave you to freeze. And I’ve heard hypothermia isn’t exactly a bucket of laughs.”
“You happen to know the cure for hypothermia?” he asks, grinning.
“I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”
“Best way to warm up — climb inside a sleeping bag naked with the nearest available human.” His eyes crinkle. “That would be you, darling.”
“I think I’d rather let you freeze. I’ve heard your appendages turn black and fall off.” My eyes narrow. “Fingers. Toes. Your pen—”
“AH!” He cuts me off with a grimace. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
Muttering something under his breath about me being evil, he turns and walks onto the sailboat. I keep my eyes on his shoulder blades as I follow him onboard, and with the warmth of his presence radiating through my chest, I don’t spare a single bit of attention to the icy water beneath my feet.
----
“ H ere .” Parker shoves a ball of fabric at me almost as soon as we step down into the cabin — it looks vaguely like the suit the Gorton’s fish stick man wears, but it’s white instead of bright yellow. I stare at it like a venomous animal.
“What is that?”
“Just put it on.” He moves closer and bends until we’re eye to eye. “It’ll be huge on you, but at least it’ll
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