Born Ready (18 page)

He held her as she trembled, sinking to the ground with her in his arms and Jackie had to admit it was the best sex she’d ever experienced.

THEY GOT DRESSED, tried to tamp down the smirks of pleasure on their faces and edged back to the party. Scott reached out to take her hand, but Jackie pretended she didn’t see him extend it.

“Look,” she said, shifting her gaze to the aquarium. “A red-and-white-striped filefish.”

Scott came up behind her. She could feel his breath against the top of her head. He rested his hands on her shoulders. “You doin’ okay?”

“Fine.” She turned back to him, forced a smile. “Never better.”

“Scotty!” Megan exclaimed. “There you are. We were wondering where you’d gotten off to. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.” Megan linked her arm through her brother’s. “You don’t mind if I borrow him, do you, Jackie?”

“He’s a free man.” Jackie laughed, waved a hand.

Scott shot her an unfathomable look.

Feeling breathless, Jackie turned away, pulse fluttering in her throat. She needed air and perspective. While Megan hauled Scott away, she slipped out the exit door.

Once free, she rested her back against the cool stone of the outside of the building and looked up into the sky filled with twinkling stars. Why did she feel so…so… What was she feeling?

Her body sweetly ached and she was sated in a way she hadn’t been sated in a very long time and yet something was off-kilter. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Couldn’t name it, but the anxiety was there. A knot constricting her solar plexus.

The breeze ruffled her skirt and she took in a big gulp of air and closed her eyes. Her limbs tingled pleasantly. This was good. Right?

“I see you made good your escape.” Scott’s voice came to her from the dark.

She opened her eyes, met his smile. “Crowded in there.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“I—”

“Needed some distance,” he finished for her.

She nodded.

“Are you ready for me to take you home?”

“Would that be rude? I have so much work to do.”

“No problem at all.” His smile was still in place, but he sounded disappointed.

“Thank you.”

“You hungry? We burned up a lot of calories back there.”

“We did.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Fish taco from a beach vendor.”

“That sounds perfect,” she said, quelling the panicky sensation urging her to tell him to take her straight home. Yes, they were using each other for sex, but that didn’t mean she had to be rude about it and she
was
hungry.

“C’mon.” He offered his hand.

This time, she took it and he led her across the parking lot to the rental sedan he picked her up in.

She paused. “Um…I’m not good at this social stuff, but I just realized I should probably go say goodbye to your mother and sister.”

“I already did it for you.”

“You knew I was ready to go,” she said, feeling relieved and grateful.

“You’re not as enigmatic as you think you are, Jackie Birchard.”

“Or you’re just pretty astute, Lieutenant Commander Everly.”

“There is that.” He opened the door for her.

She slid in, smoothing down her skirt as she went. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

“What kind of car do you drive?” she asked. “Back in D.C.”

“Guess.”

She canted her head and studied him. “Some kind of sports car. Low slung, red and fast.”

“Nope.”

“Then something rugged and outdoorsy. Jeep?”

“Nope.”

“You don’t drive a sedan.”

“Nope.”

“Pickup truck?”

“Nope.”

“Prius?”

“That’s what
you
drive.”

“How do you know that? You’ve never seen my car.”

“I’m observant, Miss Ecology. I saw the key on your coffee table.”

“So what
do
you drive?”

“It gets good gas mileage. But it does go fast.”

Jackie frowned. “I have no idea.”

“Ducati.”

“A motorcycle. You drive a motorcycle. Of course, why didn’t I expect it? Sleek and dangerous. In hindsight it is so obvious. I told you I was clueless about people.”

“You’re not as clueless as you like to pretend. I’m guessing your father rewarded you for introversion and discouraged social activities.”

“He’s pretty dismissive of most people,” she admitted. “The only way into his inner circle is through a high IQ and a serious penchant for the ocean.”

“I like the ocean,” Scott said.

“You’re also smart.”

“Not Mensa quality.”

“Neither am I. My father was so disappointed when he had me tested when I was a kid and discovered I had an IQ of only a 138.”

“Sounds pretty damn smart to me.”

“Won’t get me into Mensa and my father has an IQ of 180. So in his book, I’m slow.”

“And with the social skills of a sea cucumber?”

“You said it, I didn’t.” Jackie laughed.

“You have a great laugh,” Scott said. “You need to use it more often.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They both drew in simultaneous breaths that echoed strangely in the confines of the car. Jackie cast a nervous glance outside the window. The moon was bright, three-quarters full.

Scott pulled up into beach area parking not far from her apartment. Even at nine o’clock at night the beach was still hopping with tourists. Colorful lights were strung over the pier and through the palm trees. At a nearby pavilion people danced as a live band played “Ocean Size Love.”

“Can you dance?” Scott asked.

“Seriously?”

“I take that as a no. Tell you what, you can hold on to my belt loop while I waltz you across the dance floor.”

She shrugged, feeling sheepish. “I’d rather not.”

“Is it me or the dancing?”

“I’m not the most graceful woman in the world.”

“You underestimate yourself.”

“And you’ve never seen me dance.”

“Expand your world, Jackie. Come out of the ocean for a while.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Dancing is too romantic.”

“Last chance for a first dance,” he wheedled.

“That doesn’t make any sense. If I ever dance with you that will be our first dance.”

“Last chance for tonight,” he amended.

“We’ve got rules, remember.”

He paused, splayed a palm to the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’re right.” Except he looked a little wounded.

“How about a stroll on the beach?”

She should say no, but she was a sucker for water. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

They took their time walking along the beach. Jackie took off her sandals and dug her toes in the sand. The wind ruffled the hem of her dress. Just a short time ago she’d been naked with Scott in the back of the aquarium. She dipped her head, pressed her lips together. The sound of the ocean was a lullaby, whispering sweet nothings as it rolled up and back.

How many nights had she fallen asleep on the
Sea Anemone
listening to this sound? Jackie hugged herself.

“You’re cold,” Scott observed.

“No.” She smiled.

“What are you grinning about?”

“The ocean. The moon.” She waved.
You.

He stepped closer. His eyes gleamed. He looked like he wanted to eat her up in a very good way.

Staring at him was too intense. So she danced away, arms outstretched, and pirouetted across the sand behind him. What was this feeling spreading through her like hot chocolate on a cold morning?

His chuckle rang out. “And you said you couldn’t dance.”

She turned her head to slant him a coy glance and noticed a dark stain on his pants at the calf of his right leg. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?”

“Your leg. It’s bleeding.” She moved closer.

He muttered a mild curse.

“Come on,” she said, linking her arm through his.

“Where?”

“To my apartment.”

He wriggled his eyebrows. “I like the sound of that.”

“To doctor your leg,” she clarified.

“You have a first aid kit?”

“All good oceanographers carry a first aid kit. The sea can be dangerous.”

“All good Coast Guards carry a first aid kit, as well.”

“What do you know,” she teased. “We have something in common.”

“The ocean. First aid kits. Next thing you know people will be calling us soul mates.”

She dropped her arm from his.

“Sorry. I was kidding. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. That was too romantic, wasn’t it?”

She paused, her heartbeat strangely rapid. She should correct him right now. Tell him that yes, it was far too romantic to say such a thing to her. But instead she found herself saying, “I’ll let it slide. This time.”

They walked the rest of the way to her apartment in silence. Once inside, she tossed her purse and sandals on the floor beside the door. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

She scurried to the bathroom, grabbed the first aid kit and rushed back to find Scott studying her computer monitor.

“Wow,” he said. “This is high-tech. I’m impressed.”

“Property of the University of California. One of the reasons I was ticked off when you pulled up my equipment.”

“Direct satellite feed and everything.”

She scratched her cheek. “What can I say? Being Jack Birchard’s daughter does have some perks. Now take off your pants.”

“You can be a bit bossy.” The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“I’m direct, not bossy. Drop your trousers.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He unsnapped his pants with a lazy smile, slid the zipper down.

Her helpless gaze followed his movements and her thoughts instantly returned to the aquarium.
Stop it. He’s hurt. The last thing he needs is more sex.

But when he shucked off his shoes and pants she could see he was getting hard again. She averted her eyes from his BVDs. “Lie down on the couch.”

He settled onto his back, stretched out.

“On your stomach,” she commanded. She couldn’t keep staring at his erection barely cloaked behind thin cotton and not do something about it.
Come on, three times in one evening is a bit excessive, don’t you think?

“You’d make a good drill sergeant. Ever thought about joining the Coast Guard?” he drawled.

“Do you want this wound dressed or not?”

“I can think of something else—”

“Everly!”

“Okay, okay.” He turned over.

She could see the outline of his magnificent butt.
Stop looking at his ass! Get busy.

With studied purpose, she turned to tending his wound. As a scientist, she wasn’t particularly alarmed at the jagged kerf. But as his lover—yes, she
was
his lover and that thought brought a heated flush to her skin—she experienced a tug of sympathy in the pit of her stomach. The teeth marks weren’t excessive, but he would forever bear the scar of their first date. He could never forget her no matter how hard he tried. He was marked. One day, he’d tell his future wife the story of how he went scuba diving with Jack Birchard’s daughter and by the end of the afternoon he’d been shark bit.