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Authors: Terri Osburn

Tags: #Romance

Meant to Be (28 page)

BOOK: Meant to Be
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Beth looked around, taking in details she’d been too distracted to notice before. Such as the missing dog. She spotted him sitting in a doorway to her left. “There’s an inside?”

“Full cabin. A/C, heat, microwave. Good for large parties, especially when the men bring their wives.” Dozer hopped up as Joe headed for the narrow entrance. “Wouldn’t want to mess up their hair with a little sea spray.”

Beth ran after him, panic setting in at the idea of Joe being more than arm’s length away. His chauvinistic comment raised her hackles, but the defense of her gender died on her tongue the moment she entered the cabin. “Good heavens, this is huge.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

J
oe’s chest swelled with pride when Beth marveled at the cabin as if they’d walked into a museum. Her opinion shouldn’t matter so much. But it did.

He cleared his throat, not sure what to say. “You want a drink? I’ve got bottled water in the fridge.”

“There’s a fridge?” Beth looked as if he’d told her the boat had wings. “This is almost as big as my kitchen back in Richmond. Or should I say, kitchenette. I could live in here.”

“You remember we’re on a boat, right?”

Beth paused, bending at the knees as if bracing against an impending wave. “Right. I’d better sit down.” Stretching out on the white bench seat to the right, encased in a bright orange life jacket, she stared at the ceiling. “I can’t get over how big it is. You should warn a girl next time.” A hand slapped her forehead. “That sounds way dirtier than it did in my head.”

Unable to resist, he said, “It
is
fifty-seven feet long.”

Beth shook her head. “I made that too easy.” Leaning up on an elbow, she asked, “Isn’t something like this really expensive?”

“It wasn’t cheap, but this one was a repo, so I got a good deal.” He’d never felt the need to advertise his income the way Lucas did, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t measure up in the bank account either. “Some blow their money on high-dollar foreign cars. I’d rather invest in this.”

The second the words were out he felt like a moron. As if he needed to compete with Lucas.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Beth said, moving to the counter and sliding a hand over smooth mahogany. He imagined her fingers sliding up his spine. “She’s so beautiful.” Shooting a smile over her shoulder, she added, “Better than a BMW.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant. He who dies with the most shit, right? That’s Lucas.”

“Nothing wrong with having nice things.” Too bad Lucas had the nicest thing Joe had ever found. And it wasn’t his car.

“True. Not if you understand the value of what you have.” Beth sighed as she opened and closed the microwave. “Not all men do.” Changing the subject, she asked, “You ever sleep here?”

“Not often. Hard to let Dozer out to do his business without a yard around.”

Nice, asshole. Perfect time to bring up dog shit.

“What’s down there?” she asked, pointing to the steps dropping down between the two counters.

Joe crossed his arms, then uncrossed them and slid his hands in his pockets. He felt like a teenager talking to the hottest girl in school. Even in bright orange she made his mouth go dry. “That’s the head.”

“The head?”

“The bathroom on a boat is called the head.”

“Oh.” Beth made the full circle, ending her exploration standing between him and the bench that turned into a bed with one flip of the wrist.

He could probably undo that button on her jeans just as easily.

“We need to set out,” he said, heading for the exit. Leaping into the water to cool off would probably be hard to explain.

“Where are you going?” she asked, catching him before he’d taken two steps.

“Up to the cockpit. I can’t drive the boat from here.”

He took another step and she moved with him. “I’m coming with you.”

Getting her on the boat had been one thing. Getting her another six feet up would not be as easy. “You sure you don’t want to start in here and work your way out?”

Rubbing a hand over her heart, she started to wheeze. “No. No. I’d better stick with you.” Leaning forward, she braced her hands on her knees.

“You’re losing it again,” he said, crossing his arms to save his chest hair. “Sit down and let me get us out on the water. Then you can come out and enjoy the view.”

“No!” she yelled, wrapping pale hands around his forearm, digging her nails into his flesh. “You’re my lifeline. If I don’t stay with you, I’ll never make it.”

“I’m your lifeline?” This development would not help his need to cool off. “I thought that’s what the vest was for.”
He removed the nails, but one hand clutched the sleeve of his flannel.

“The life jacket isn’t working. Not that I’m taking it off, but the panic only subsides so long as I’m next to you.”

Looked like he’d have a copilot for the day. “Okay then. Let’s head up.”

Cassandra felt the phone vibrate from inside her Coach clutch. Checking the ID, she let the wave of revulsion run its course before answering.

“What do you want, Mr. Mohler?” Calling the cretin “Mr. Mohler” made a muscle tick in her jaw, but men were more cooperative when she feigned courtesy.

“You said you wanted anything you could use against Dempsey.”

Cassie didn’t know what Joe had ever done to Mohler to make the man hate him so, but in all honesty, she didn’t care either. So long as Mohler served his purpose.

“You have something?”

“I do. Something that will put more than a ding in Dempsey family relations.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Get to the point, Mr. Mohler. I’m a busy woman.”

“Let’s just say Dempsey is dipping his rod where he shouldn’t be.”

“The point, Mr. Mohler. And I don’t appreciate the vulgarity.” If this was about Joe dropping his standards to that little shopgirl, Mohler was wasting her time.

“He’s boffing his brother’s fiancée. They’re together all the time, and they just set out on his boat. Alone.” His voice grew muffled, as if he were holding his mouth too close to the phone. “I know I’d be pissed to find out my brother was fucking my woman.”

Cassie cringed. She’d dealt with her share of sycophants, but this association was turning out to be outright repugnant. “I didn’t know Lucas’s fiancée was on the island. Seeing them together is not proof. I can’t make this kind of accusation unless I’m certain.”

“See for yourself,” Mohler said, a loud air horn sounding behind him. “Meet me at the marina restaurant in two hours. I’d bet my best rod they’ll be gone at least that long. That brunette has wild written all over her. If she wasn’t so snooty, I’d take a crack at her myself.”

The woman from the shop was a brunette. But why would Lucas’s fiancée be working at a shop on Anchor? “Describe the woman.”

“Little thing. Curly hair. Tight ass. Always looks like she’s just smelled something bad.”

Every woman who found herself in Mohler’s vicinity probably looked as if she’d smelled something bad. But the rest of the description fit. Though she’d never met the woman, Cassie heard enough gossip to know Lucas’s fiancée worked at the same law firm Lucas did.

The firm that worked for Wheeler Development. Good thing the woman displayed a knack for retail, since she’d need that job before long.

“I’ll be there, Mr. Mohler. Make sure we have a seat near the window.”

The lifeline thing was no joke. Having only one seat in the cockpit meant Joe had to drive the boat while standing behind the chair and reaching around Beth and her bright-orange life jacket to steer. Joe wouldn’t have minded so much if Beth’s scent hadn’t tortured his senses. She’d pulled her hair to one side so it wouldn’t flutter in his face, but that left her pale neck bare, tempting him to drop a kiss just below her ear.

At least the life jacket blocked the view down her shirt.

But distance from Joe wasn’t the only factor. Distance from the shore mattered as well. They’d found a comfortable spot about half a mile out where he’d coaxed her to sit on the floor of the cockpit, letting their feet dangle above the lower deck. From there Beth could keep an eye on the island, which allowed him to put a few feet between them.

“Can I ask you a question?” she said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You just did.”

“That’s a lawyerlike response. Maybe you should have gone to law school.”

The thought of studying law made his asshole pucker. “I’ll stick with fishing. What do you want to know?”

“Why do you call Patty by her name? I know Lucas calls Tom Dad.”

Joe sighed. “I love Patty, but I had a mom. Giving Patty the title felt like saying my mom never existed.” He snorted, recalling the early years of their blended family. “I was a real pain in the ass when Dad married her. Mom hadn’t been
gone two years, and I was mad as hell. It’s a wonder Patty didn’t sell me or peddle me off to some boarding school.”

“You, difficult? I don’t believe it.”

He glanced over and caught the smile on her face. “Funny, smart-ass. How about you?”

“Me?” she asked. “I’m the complete opposite. Never gave anyone a hard time. I was taught at an early age to behave and never rebel. Nod and smile and make everyone happy.”

She stared over the water as she spoke and he couldn’t help but ask the obvious question. “You don’t sound happy about that. Why do you keep it up?”

“What do you mean?” She leaned back on her hands, brows drawn.

“Why don’t you stop trying to make everyone else happy and do something to make yourself happy?”

Beth blinked, looking as if he’d just asked her to solve all the mysteries of the universe. “But making people happy does make me happy.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Well, I don’t care what you believe.” She crossed her arms and huffed at the sky. He waited, knowing she’d cave. “Why don’t you believe it?”

“You spend a lot of time at Lola’s place. You like hanging out up there?”

“Of course, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“What do you do when you’re there?” he pushed.

“We talk and I make things. Like this bracelet.” She held out her left wrist.

He turned to face her, raising one knee and leaning on the wall behind him. “How often do you make stuff like this when you’re back home?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Pursing her lips, she stared at the shoreline again. “I don’t. I haven’t made anything in ten years.”

“Why not?”

Scooting back against the opposite wall, she crossed her arms. “I don’t have time is all. There was school—law school isn’t easy—and then work, and now I spend time with Lucas whenever I can.” Playing with a loose thread hanging from the cuff of her jeans, she repeated, “I don’t have time.”

Changing direction, Joe asked, “Did your grandmother really warn you not to be like your mom?”

Her eyes went wide. “How do you know that?”

“Cuervo again. You cried that night, saying you’d turned into your mother and that was the worst thing you could ever do. At least according to your grandmother. Made me want to shake the shit out of anyone who’d tell that to a kid, especially one who’d lost her mother.”

“You don’t know what my mother was like.” Beth curled into herself.

“No, I don’t. But I know that’s a lot of weight to put on a little girl.”

Beth tilted her head back and closed her eyes, holding silent.

“Where was your dad?” he asked.

Her eyes remained closed as her head rolled from side to side. He didn’t think she was going to answer, but then she looked up, her green eyes staring into his. “Jail. At least when my mother died. Armed robbery. He was released
when I was in elementary school, but never came to see me. I found out in high school he’d been shot to death in a robbery gone bad out in California.”

The words were delivered with no emotion. No feeling. She stared another few seconds, then her head dropped back again, as if saying the words had worn her out. He guessed she’d never said them before.

“Lucas doesn’t know, does he?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Joe suspected he knew the answer, and it made him want to kick the shit out of his baby brother.

Beth sighed and her shoulders dropped. “Lucas is climbing a steep ladder built on dinner parties, expensive suits, and people ready to stab you in the back before you reach the next rung. His career means everything to him. A wife from backwoods Louisa County with a drunk for a mother and a thief for a father wouldn’t reflect well on a man aiming for partner at a law firm.”

BOOK: Meant to Be
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