Off the Hook (18 page)

“Aw shit, really?” When Finn finally looked up, there was nothing but regret in his eyes. “I wasn’t even thinking. Once I got her calmed down on the dock, got her focused on getting me some dry clothes, I thought she’d be good.”

“Well, she wasn’t. The problem with Jessie is that she’s so strong with everything else, we forget what she’s like with shit like this.”

“Yeah.” Finn’s cheeks puffed out with his next breath. “What do you think I should do?”

“Buck the fuck up, that’s what you do. Quit moping over the damn boat and focus on what we have to work with.”

Finn nodded slowly, then shoved back the covers and reached for the closest pair of jeans. “Think she’ll ever tell us why the water wigs her out so much?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Liam shrugged first, then shook his head. “No, probably not. We’ve known her twelve, thirteen years and she hasn’t told us yet, so I’m not holding my breath.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he said, as he reached past Liam and pulled open the door. “Must have been something pretty bad, though.”

“Where’re you going?”

“I owe her a cup of tea.”

“You owe her a hell of a lot more than that,” Liam grunted. “But I guess it’s a start.”

Chapter 8

Building a baseball team is like building a house. You look for the best architects, the best builders—and then you let them do their jobs.

—Pat Gillick

It didn’t matter how hard Liam worked them rebuilding the fish shack over the next few days; all Kate could think about were the things he said to her in that damn rowboat.

He wasn’t the only one who remembered things, but saying them out loud was only asking for trouble, wasn’t it? Sure, she could have admitted that every time she looked at him she remembered exactly what it felt like to smooth her hands slowly over his chest, to feel the warm texture of each muscle under her fingers and his heart thumping under her palm. Sure, she could have told him how she still heard the way he used to suck in a shaky breath every time she touched him, or how the sound of him murmuring her name as he ran his fingers up her bare spine had made her love him a little more.

And God help her but she had loved him. She knew it sounded crazy because they’d only known each other such a short time, but it was true. Over the years she’d tried to pinpoint exactly what it was that made her fall in love with him, because if she could narrow it down to one thing, then she might be able to counter it with the things she didn’t like about him.

Good plan, except she could never narrow it down to just one thing.

It was the first night she met him, when they were walking down the Strip and he switched sides with her so she was on the inside of the sidewalk. It was the way he held her hand, firm yet gentle, making her feel safe and mushy all at the same time.

It was the way he’d made everything fun, from the endless pictures Kate had taken, to playing lurker around the slot machines, to holding her purse and chatting up the salesladies while Kate tried on clothes they both knew she couldn’t afford. It was the way he’d ducked into a café to buy a couple of sandwiches—one for the homeless guy sitting against the back of the bus stop and one for the guy’s dog.

It was the determination in his eyes when he talked about playing ball, and at the same time it was the way he didn’t let baseball dominate every conversation. It was the way he seemed truly interested in what Kate had to say, no matter what it was about. It was when she told him she’d never graduated high school and, instead of blowing it off as no big deal, as her mother had, he’d engaged her in a long conversation about things she liked doing and came up with different ideas on how she could turn those interests into a career she liked.

He’d even told her she was smart, and no one had ever done that before.

And just thinking about all of it again, for the millionth time, kicked her pulse up a notch.

It was a good thing she wasn’t
still
in love with him.

“I’m not,” she muttered.

“You’re not what?” With a carpenter’s pencil sticking out from behind his ear and a Kelly Clarkson–tune dancing across his lips, Liam glanced up from the plywood he was marking, his frown of concentration melting into a slow smile.

“What? Nothing,” Kate said, but the rush of heat over her face surely gave away some of what she’d been thinking.

“Mm-hmm,” he chuckled. “All right, but you better stop blushing, ’cause it makes it look like your ‘nothing’ was actually something, and it sounds like Jessie’s on her way back.”

“Damn it.”

Ever since the night in the rowboat, Jessie had been looking at Kate a little differently, as though she was searching for something, a clue that would prove what Jessie seemed to already be thinking.

She was wrong, of course; Kate and Liam hadn’t so much as brushed shoulders since the other night, but if Kate couldn’t wash the memories from her mind fast enough to stop blushing, she was going to have some explaining to do right quick-like.

Jessie’s footsteps clicked faster down the dock.

With no other way to explain her red face, Kate forced herself to cough, quietly at first, then ramped it up into a good-quality choking fit, which topped out just as Jessie stepped inside their newly built fish shack.

“Three more reservations! Yay!” Her excitement faded when Kate kept coughing. “Are you okay?”

With her fist pressed against her mouth, Kate nodded frantically, then pointed to the door and ducked outside, the sound of Liam’s laughter chasing after her. By that time she’d done such a good job of forcing the cough, it wouldn’t stop, so it took her a few moments to rein it in.

Finn popped his head up from the stern of
Buoy O’Buoy
. “Lord thunderin’, woman, are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she finally managed between dwindling chokes. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I’m just gonna…” She started to point toward the lodge, but Finn had already ducked back down. “Go get some water.”

As she trudged up the path, she took the time to reason it out. The fact was, the brain was a crazy thing, and memories tended to get distorted over time, sometimes for the worse and sometimes for the better. So it was entirely possible her memories of everything she’d felt for Liam, how freakin’ amazing it felt to touch him—to
be
touched by him—were nothing more than heightened elaborations of what it was actually like.

Because, truly, if it had all been as great as her memory wanted to believe it was, he wouldn’t have left.

Still trying to convince herself of that, she downed the first glass of water, then refilled it, but instead of drinking, she leaned her elbows on the edge of the sink and slumped her stomach against the edge.

“Nothing can be
that
good,” she muttered.

“Depends on what you’re talking about.”

Squealing, Kate dropped the glass in the sink, sending the water shooting straight up as she whirled around to see Liam leaning on the doorframe.

“God almighty,” she gasped. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Apparently,” he said, laughing. “What can’t be that good?”

“Nothing.”

As Liam took his first step, Kate turned to start mopping up the spilled water, which was now running over the edge of the counter.

He pulled a glass out of the cupboard and purposely reached in front of her to get to the tap. “And again, it sounds like ‘nothing’ might mean something.”

“ ‘Nothing’ means nothing.”

“You sure about that?”

He was toying with her, baiting her as he leaned back against the counter, but she wasn’t going to be reeled in like one of his fish this time. Oh no, if anyone was going to be doing the reeling, it was going to be her.

“I guess there’s one way to find out.”

Tossing the dish towel into the sink, she didn’t give him time to respond, just curled her fingers around his neck, pushed up on her toes, and touched her lips to his. Warning bells screamed to life inside her head, clanging as if there were a five-alarm blaze somewhere, but she didn’t care; she was going to prove her memories wrong.

But, oh God, his mouth really was as firm and gentle as she remembered. And the warmth from his skin really did seep into her fingers. Oh crap, this wasn’t good; she needed to stop kissing him—and she would.

Anytime now.

Maybe after she had one little nibble of his bottom lip…or maybe after one quick swipe of her tongue against his…or…ohhh…

Slowly—because if she let him go too fast she’d probably crumple right there on the floor—she eased her hands forward, dancing her fingers over his Adam’s apple and down to the neck of his faded navy sweatshirt as she forced her lips away from his.

“S-see?” she said. “That wasn’t—”

Something crashed to the floor but she didn’t know what it was, because she was busy kissing him again, deeper this time. No…wait…
he
was kissing
her,
and, holy crap, her memory wasn’t even close to remembering how good this was.

There was nothing timid or unsure in the way he kissed her, just strong, hungry, and tender. His lips moved over hers as if they’d never been apart, as if he remembered exactly where to touch, where to tease, and where to taste to make her whole body melt. And when it did, he simply eased her arms up around his neck, urging her to hang on while he took them deeper yet.

He cupped the side of her face in his hand, smoothing his thumb over her cheek while his other hand slid down her ribs, taking its sweet time, as though each and every inch of her mattered, and when he reached her hip, he fisted the waist of her jeans in his grip and pulled her closer.

She knew it was going to end, it had to, but before it did, she curled her fingers into his hair, his messy, sawdust-covered hair, and held on as he slowly, carefully loosened his hold on her.

Pressing her hands against his chest, Kate scrambled for a fraction of sense as Liam blew out a low breath and rested his forehead against hers.

“Okay, then,” she said, croaking out a laugh. “That was…uh…”

“
So
much better than I remember.” He pulled back just enough that he could stare down at her, and one look at his expression almost did her in all over again.

Everything she felt was right there, splashed across his wide blue eyes: a dash of “what the hell just happened,” mixed with a splash of “holy shit, we really shouldn’t have done that,” and shaken with a double shot of “when can we do it again?”

It was a cocktail for disaster that Kate couldn’t wait to get drunk on, but—ugh, why did there have to be a “but”?

“We, uh, we need to get back to the shack before they come looking for us,” she said.

Still a little dazed, Liam nodded. “Yeah.”

Neither one of them moved for another few seconds, and when Kate finally did step away, her foot went sliding out from under her. Quick as a flash, Liam’s hands were around her arms, catching her before she hit the floor.

“Whew,” she laughed. “Thank you, that wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, grinning guiltily. “I dropped my glass when you kissed me.”

“When I—you mean when
you
kissed
me
.”

“Whatever,” he laughed. “A heads-up next time’ll save some of the dishes, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

“So you think there’s going to be a next time, do you?”

Liam inhaled a long breath, then tipped his head a little to the side as though he couldn’t believe he was saying it. “God, I hope so.”

He was so sincere, so cute, that she couldn’t help it: She leaned up and kissed him again, quick this time, then ducked away before he could get hold of her.

“That one didn’t count,” he grumbled, crouching to pick up the big chunks of glass. “I wasn’t ready.”

“Oh, come on, Sporto,” she laughed. “You weren’t ready the first time, either.”

Armed with rags from the cleaning cupboard, she set to mopping up the water while Liam took a broom and dustpan to the rest of the glass. Every couple of steps he’d either bump into her or nudge her, then smile all innocent-like when she rolled her eyes at him.

“Hey!” Finn’s voice echoed in from the front door. “D’you two get lost or something?”

“In here,” Liam called back, then shot Kate a quick wink just before Finn walked in. “Kate broke a glass.”

“I did not!”

He held up the dustpan as if that was all the proof he needed, shrugged, then dumped it in the glass bin next to the mudroom.

“I think
BoB
’s good to go,” Finn said. “I’ll take her out for a run tomorrow, but it looks like she’ll be ready to handle herself. Just need some help reattaching the anchor.”

“What’s
BoB
?” Kate asked.

“Buoy O’Buoy,”
Liam answered as he turned to Finn. “I can take her out if you want.”

“That’s all right, I got her. You need to get the shack roofed, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Right.”

Finn had his back to Liam, so he couldn’t see Liam’s frown, but Kate did.

“Hey, uh, Finn,” he said as they all headed out. “I think I’m gonna have to run back to Hardy.”

“What for?”

“It’s nothing; I forgot a few things, that’s all.”

“Like what?”

That’s what Kate wanted to know, too, because they’d gone over their list half a dozen times.

“You know, um, stuff like…” Walking behind Finn, Liam seemed to be trying hard not to laugh. “My prescription. It, uh, ran out last week, but with all this work on the shack, my arm’s going to be giving me hell pretty quick, and we don’t have any anti-inflammatories here.”

Kate didn’t even know he took meds for his arm. “I have Advil; will that help?”

“No.”

“Then maybe Ronan can grab your prescription on his way in,” she said. “Save you the trip all the way back.”

“No,” Liam said, grounding the word out as he stared at her with wide “you’re not helping” eyes. “The pharmacy’s going to need to talk to my doctor, and that’s always a bit of a headache.”