Friction (5 page)

If he ever actually saw or spoke to her again, that is.

No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than he looked up to see her enter the room, sexy as hell in low-rider jeans and a cropped white T-shirt that sported the logo of a cheesecake store on it. The sight of her toned stomach nearly had him licking his lips. Instead, he focused on the sunglasses she was wearing even inside. She slid into a chair next to him, reaching for the carafe of coffee.

“Hungover?”

“Not quite, but definitely a little rough around the edges.”

“Didn’t sleep well?” He lowered his voice and let his tone suggest that maybe he was the reason why. It was clear by her grin she wasn’t going to feed his ego.

“No, in fact, I slept like a baby…could hardly drag myself out of bed.”

He peeked at his watch. “I can see that.”

She looked at him over the top of her glasses in the way that he was starting to love and he saw her gorgeous eyes were only slightly blurry, with just a tiny bit of red that didn’t matter at all. He wondered if he could get her to keep the glasses on in bed….

“Yeah, sorry about that. I tend to keep late hours, and sleep in the morning. At least, I used to, before—”

She stopped suddenly, and he was curious about the end of her sentence, watching her layer a generous spoonful of peanut butter over a flaky croissant—interesting choice. Sarah was nothing if not unconventional.

“Before what?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just work talk, and we decided none of that, remember?”

He watched her closely as she ate, mesmerized by the movements of her mouth, and curious about why she seemed almost relieved not to talk about work. His curiosity was going to have to wait for the moment.

“You’re right. We did agree. A better topic is what we might do today.”

Sarah stalled, watching him pop some grapes in his mouth as he waited for her to respond, not taking his eyes off of her. There was only one other couple left at the table, and they looked over at Sarah, still masked behind her dark sunglasses as she ate.

“There are museums littered all up and down the shore,” the woman, a preppy twentysomething with a wholesome face and too much energy, said, waving her hands in enthusiasm. “We’re doing a tour of them each
day. Today we’re going to the Debtor’s Prison museum and the Railway museum. I’m a history major, getting my Ph.D. at Johns Hopkins, so I just can’t get enough of museums. Dennis indulges me, though I know there are other things he’d rather do, but it’s so hot out, and the museums are beautiful, especially these small, local ones.”

She bubbled in her seat, leaning over to shake Logan’s hand. “I’m Tansy, by the way. We’re Tansy and Dennis DuBois.”

Sarah had stopped eating midbite, wondering if she was going to have to administer CPR. The woman, who Sarah suspected might pass out before she got to the end of what she was saying, had barely taken a breath.

“That all sounds really interesting—” Logan was obviously trying to be polite. It didn’t sound interesting at all as far as Sarah was concerned.

“Oh! I know!” Tansy popped around in her chair, grabbing the shoulder of an obviously adoring Dennis. “You could come with us! Are you here together?”

“No.”

Sarah spoke the word a little more harshly than she meant to—she hadn’t really meant to speak at all, but she wasn’t taking any chances that Logan might agree that it was a good idea for them to go museum hopping.

“No you don’t want to go, or no you aren’t together?” Tansy seemed unfazed by Sarah’s blunt answer.

“Both.”

Tansy giggled. “Oh. You looked like you’re together, and I overheard you talking about how you needed something to do. But, whatever, maybe we’ll see you
at dinner? Do you have plans for tonight? Dennis and I have no idea what we’re going to do, but who knows?”

Sarah tried to smile, but her lips just wouldn’t stretch that way yet. She needed more coffee. Logan picked up the ball.

“We just met here, though we’re not here together, is what Sarah meant. Your invite is very kind, but I think we just want to wing it, and maybe we will see you later, but let’s just see what happens.”

Tansy twinkled at him happily. “Oh, that sounds perfect. If you two have just met you need time to get to know each other. You have a great day now!”

Dennis never uttered a word, not that he had had a chance, but he smiled before guiding Tansy from the room, his arm draped around her shoulders.

“Dodged that bullet.” Sarah continued eating, relieved.

“They seemed very nice, if energetic,” Logan offered diplomatically. “But I want you to myself today.”

Sarah swallowed the rest of her croissant and reached for a handful of grapes, not so much hungry as forestalling the inevitable.

“I thought you might have taken off by now. You still want to do something?”

He seemed mildly surprised. “Of course. I wouldn’t have ditched you. No way.”

“It was rude of me to be late.”

“Yes, so now you owe me.”

She felt her back stiffen reflexively, and she took her glasses off, meeting his eyes directly. He was amazing-
looking, and obviously a nice guy, but she wanted no confused expectations.

“No. I don’t. I don’t owe anybody anything.”

A small crease formed between his eyes, and he put his hand up in a staying motion. “Hey, back down. I was just goofing around—I don’t care that you were late. You’re right, you don’t owe me anything, and I’m sorry if that came off wrong. Let’s just find something to do and have some fun, okay?”

Sarah sat back in her chair, feeling like a moron, but nodded. Fun didn’t seem likely, but she was willing to try anything once.

S
ARAH PEERED DOWN
at the blue water rolling gently under her boat, a seventeen-foot, bright yellow kayak. At first she’d had her doubts, but now that she was in the thing, it wasn’t too bad. She could go forward and backward and, since she didn’t intend to fall out, that was all she needed. For a city girl she was a decent swimmer. Though she hadn’t spent much time in open water, she did laps at the pool several times a week. It was a habit she’d gotten into during her stint at the police academy.

The boat was, to her surprise, very steady in the water; even rocking it with her hips didn’t tip it easily. She tested the kayak again, learning the boundaries as the instructor, Jim, had advised. Jim paddled easily among the people in the group, correcting and encouraging them. So this was the guy Ivy had the hots for.

He was cute enough. Though his granola-eating hippie looks weren’t Sarah’s style, he had a nicely toned body and a pretty face surrounded by shaggy blond hair. He was a flirt, too, and had smiled at her a little too much during introductions, until Logan had put the kibosh on that. Sarah watched Jim show a young brunette
how to hold her paddle correctly; things weren’t looking up for Ivy.

After she and Logan decided what to do, she’d simply donned a bathing suit top and shorts. Logan looked like a professional in his sexy, skintight black-and-green neoprene top and shorts. The suit fit so tightly that little was left to the imagination. If this was what men wore when they wanted to get a woman’s attention, it was working.

Sarah had nearly stumbled when she’d met him downstairs before they’d left for their day on the water. She was glad most of him was hidden below the deck of the boat, or she would probably have missed most of the lesson. The attraction between them was hard to fight, but she was determined to try, since she knew it was bound to end in nothing but frustration.

As it was, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he expertly guided his boat was distracting enough. She imitated his movements, trying to draw her boat around in a graceful arc through the water as he did so effortlessly. Normally she was very good at physical things, but this was taking some getting used to.

“No fair. You’ve done this before. How come you agreed to a lesson when you obviously know what you’re doing?”

He grinned, and her heart foolishly skipped a beat.

“Well, you haven’t done it before, and lessons are good refreshers for anyone. Besides, I don’t know these particular waters, and it’s always good to get some advice from someone who does.” He nodded toward Jim. “Ocean waters can be tricky.”

Sarah agreed, listening while trying to gauge the wind and the water, and how both were trying to thwart her novice attempts.

Logan spoke encouragingly. “Don’t muscle it so much. You’re trying to force the boat to go where you want with your arms. Don’t use your arms, use your midsection, and keep your paddle more or less rotating in the same position. See? You don’t have to force it.”

He demonstrated, and she studied his movements carefully, then took a deep breath, doing as he said, and felt lighthearted—a feeling she wasn’t particularly used to—when her boat swung gracefully to the left.

“Excellent!”

Nearly blushing under his praise and warm regard, she chastised herself silently, feeling like a goof. Concentrating, she practiced the move several more times, in several directions.

It really was kind of neat, she thought. Since she was living down here now, it was probably a good idea to learn to do more things on the water. Having had the resources of New York City at her disposal, she was often at a loss in Norfolk, a nice but much smaller city. Swinging her boat around, then paddling it backward and stopping, she smiled. Maybe she would buy one of these things.

“You’re doing great. A natural.”

It wasn’t Logan who spoke to her this time, and she looked up to see Jim smiling at her in blatant admiration. Logan was oblivious, talking with an older man about something or other a few yards away. Sarah regarded Jim calmly.

“Thanks. It takes a little work, but I like it.”

“You’re picking the moves up more quickly than most. You’re ready for the next step, learning to get in and out of the boat.”

“I already did that.”

He laughed, never letting his eyes drift from hers. “No, I mean you have to fall out of your boat, and then get back in.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“So if you fall out, you can get back in.”

Sarah frowned. “I won’t fall out.”

But Jim was resolute, shaking his head. “Part of the lesson. You can’t really go anywhere away from shore if you can’t get back in your boat, or help your partner get back in his. Rules of the road, so to speak. C’mon, it’ll be easy. I’ll work through it with you.”

Sarah looked toward Logan, who was still caught up in conversation, and sighed.

“Okay. What do I need to do?”

After a few times dumping out of the boat—though she still wondered who the heck threw themselves out of a boat that wasn’t on fire on purpose—Sarah started to get her bearings. She felt like a drowned rat by the fourth time, but she could exit her boat and crawl back in, both with help and by herself.

As she hauled herself up and over for the last time, she was pretty sure Jim was checking out her butt—just as he’d slid his hand a little too far up her calf when he’d helped her in the time before. She’d had enough lessons for the moment and looked for Logan as she settled
back in the cockpit of her boat, soaked and ready to do something else.

“So you’ve learned how to do wet exits.”

Logan’s boat slid quietly up beside hers, to her relief interrupting the space between Sarah and Jim. The instructor offered them a friendly salute and headed off to another member of the group.

Logan grabbed the lip of Sarah’s kayak, butting them up against each other, side by side. She looked at him, shaking the wet out of her hair.

“A what?”

“Falling out of the boat upside-down on purpose. It’s called a wet exit.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing you could call it.”

He just laughed. “I know it seems stupid, but if you know enough ways in and out of your boat, and eventually how to roll it, you can take these craft in just about any kind of water, where no other boats could ever go.”

“Fascinating.”

“I thought you’d think so.” He grinned. “We have the boats for the day, though the lesson’s over. How about we go back and get some food and drinks, then we can go off on a paddle somewhere. Maybe Smith Island. I hear it’s not a long trip.”

“An island? Down here?”

“Just a small one off the tip of the shore, past the national wildlife refuge. We can travel back out from the beach, hug the shore and then it’s about a fifteen-minute paddle across to the island. It’s undeveloped for the most part, so we’ll probably be alone.”

The lazy suggestion in his words didn’t fail to make her pulse race just a little faster, and in spite of her intentions to keep her distance, she agreed, and they went back toward shore.

T
HEY WERE PADDLING
across an open stretch of water, their boats quietly cutting through the one-foot chop, and Sarah felt truly relaxed. Her muscles were loose and warm from the paddling, her mind at peace. Logan moved parallel to her a few yards away, but they said nothing. The early afternoon sun was hot, but she barely felt it in the breeze, and she smiled as brown pelicans swooped overhead, diving down headfirst into the water for their lunch.

They’d hugged the shore for the majority of the trip, paddling underneath a section of the incredible Chesapeake Bay Bridge and forward to the spot where they veered southeast toward a shore visible on the other side. Late at night Sarah had often watched the twinkling lights of the bridge from her apartment, and she’d driven over it several times, but paddling beneath it was yet another new perspective.

Considered one of the seven engineering wonders of the world, it spanned twenty miles above ground and included two tunnels underneath the Bay. The bridge connected the southern shores of mainland Virginia with the Eastern Shore.

Bobbing in the water in her small boat, she’d appreciated its enormity more than ever. She was enjoying so many marvels of man and nature on this short kayaking trip.

Sparing a glance over to Logan, who also appeared lost in his own musings, she thought maybe vacationing wasn’t so bad after all. She saw him steer his kayak a little closer as they approached the island’s shore.

“Okay, these waves are just going to pop us right up on shore, so just go with it, okay?”

She smiled. She felt young, like she hadn’t felt in years. Riding the waves into shore was like riding an amusement park ride, and she laughed out loud with the joy of it. When she hopped out of her boat into the wet sand, she caught Logan’s eye as he stood by his own boat. The ribbon of heat his gaze caused knocked her off balance, literally, and she felt herself fall backward into cool, deeper water.

Sputtering, she emerged, finding Logan directly before her, smiling.

“Losing your balance?”

“The sand is soft—this beach seems steeper than the other.”

“It is.” He sank down, accepting her lame excuse with a wicked, knowing grin. They played in the water, taking in their surroundings, until Sarah realized Logan had disappeared from her view. Water sloshed around her, and before she could call out, he popped up in front of her, splashing. She reared back, surprised, but his hands slid around her, yanking her up close to him.

“I wondered where you’d gone to.”

“Checking for sharks.”

“Right. I think you’re the only shark in this water.”

His grin seemed to confirm the fact as he planted a kiss on her mouth, then released her.

“I’m starving.”

Sarah blinked, lifting her fingers to her mouth, and followed him out of the water. He continued to keep her off balance. It didn’t feel too bad, really.

“Tell me, are there bugs everywhere around here?” She jumped, swatting at a fat, biting fly that made a strafing run at her head, and Logan laughed, digging down into his hatch and pulling out their small cooler as well as the familiar green can of bug spray.

“Fact of life. You have stuff washing up on shore, you have little stinging carnivores around, too. To them you’re just another meal.”

Sarah snorted, covering herself with the spray again. “So much for idyllic beach scenes.”

Logan whipped out a large blanket and laid it over the sand, setting down the cooler. He put his hands on his hips. Dressed only in the neoprene shorts, he was darkening quickly, his chest and limbs turning a light tan.

“I don’t know, Sarah. I think this is pretty idyllic, myself. Perfect, really.”

Her name on his lips caught her breath; she liked it. And, bugs and all, he was right. She looked out over the water, listened to the quiet around them. It was beautiful here. She threw him the spray can.

“True. I can’t believe all the shells—there are so many of them, and they’re big, not like the little scraps I find on the mainland beaches.”

“No one bothers them here. The birds and the bugs take what they want, and the rest is left alone.”

She squatted to check out a particularly large oyster shell. Oysters were one of the creatures that had once filled the Bay, she knew from a little local research. There had been so many oysters they’d formed large reefs that were a danger to boats. They’d also provided food for native peoples over the ages as well as filtering all the water of the Chesapeake each day. No small task.

The small, fleshy creatures with shells so lumpy and ugly on the outside but so pretty on the inside were struggling now, endangered, just like everything else that lived in these waters. Sarah ran her fingers along the smooth, pearly inside of the shell, and a well of hope and sadness rose within her. This was a big shell. Maybe there were more? Or was it the last?

She set it back down on the sand, straightening to discover Logan’s eyes fixed on her. Feeling oddly exposed, she walked briskly over to the blanket and plopped down, crossing her legs and reaching for the cooler.

“What did Harold and Karen pack up for us?”

He didn’t say anything, but cleared his throat, sitting down beside her, maybe a bit closer than she was comfortable with.

“Not sure. Let’s see.”

They pulled out thick sandwiches wrapped in white paper and plastic to protect the food from the ice in the cooler, and found small plastic containers of salads, fruit and cheeses. Several kinds of nonalcoholic drinks
lay flat on the bottom of the cooler and were icy cold in Sarah’s hand as she pulled them out, sending a shiver down her arm in spite of the sun and heat.

“This is great. I haven’t been on a picnic like this since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, I can’t say it’s something I’ve done recently, either.”

“No family events or romantic dates in the park?”

Logan bit into his sandwich, assessing her openly as he chewed and swallowed. “Fishing, Sarah?”

“Just making conversation.”

“This is the first romantic picnic I’ve been on in a long time. Years, in fact.”

She didn’t want to admit how nice that made her feel, and just ate her salad because she wasn’t quite sure what to say. Logan was making it clear he was interested in more than just buddying around, and she didn’t know if it could be more than that. The fact that she wanted more, though she found it hard to admit, shook her, and the next words out of her mouth emerged from her anxiety as much as anything else.

“So is all this just a way to get in my pants again?”

The words cut through the air harshly, and she felt more than saw him draw back, his surprise at her response clear. Well, too bad. But instead of relenting, she dug in. She was too used to squaring off, and in her experience, that’s what it was all about with guys. Why put pretty dressing on it? She took a deep breath, ready for confrontation.

But then he laughed, which was not what she’d expected.

“You do just lay it out there on the table, don’t you?”

She shrugged, feeling her ire deflate in the face of his good humor, and bit into her sandwich. “Why sugarcoat things?”