Paper Moon (29 page)

“Hey, it's Manny!” Annie sped up ahead of Blaine and Caroline on the pier.

Waiting in line to board a huge catamaran, a Mohawk-coiffed young man in baggy swim trunks turned upon hearing his name and waved at the approaching girls. Blaine didn't recognize the mythical creatures tattooed on Manny's arms, but the hair and studs lining his eyebrows and ears were unmistakable. It was another of the boys from the Mexico City disco, the one who'd danced a couple of numbers with Annie.

“Yo, dude,” he said when Annie reintroduced him, raising his hand for a high five at the same time Blaine extended his for a handshake. Somewhere in between, they brushed palms. “You ever been snorkeling, Miz C?”

Caroline shook her head. The cute bob of hair she'd pulled back in a band moved with it, too short to swing of its own volition. The reddish gold wisps of curls that had escaped made a soft fringe around her hairline.

Like a rebellious halo for an earth angel,
Blaine mused, resisting the urge to touch one.

Angels. Blaine's ramblings staggered to a halt. He didn't think in terms of angels or spiritual things, but just being around Caroline made it impossible to avoid such notions. Had God answered his unspoken heart's desires? His mother always said God knew our needs better than we did. If asked prior to this trip, Blaine would have answered that he was doing just fine; Karen was a problem, but all teens were supposed to be. Sure, a woman might understand his daughter better, but in the end, he was in control. That was enough for him.

Until Caroline. Sweet Caroline. He woke up to the song playing in his mind. He couldn't wait for “the girls” to begin stirring in the room next to him. He listened for her laughter, her voice as she alternated between mother and girlfriend. This morning, he'd forgotten to call the office to be certain that Alice had sent off the Toronto contract that he'd faxed her after reading through it once more. All he could think of was this incredible woman. She was smart, funny, attractive, and had a heart bigger than she was. She was . . .
the answer to an unspoken prayer?

Unable to help himself, Blaine curled his arm around her as they walked across the narrow, rope-railed gangway onto the catamaran. It didn't hurt his feelings when the bench where the kids sat filled, forcing him and Caroline to squeeze into a narrow corner of the pontoon with their backs to the higher platform deck.

It was as though she'd been made to fit under the protective crook of his arm.

The crew tossed the lines. Engines growling, the catamaran eased out of the slip. From a built-in compartment in the pontoon, a perky young woman in the same red tee and white shorts as the crew prepared sodas and punch for the guests. Satisfied to drink in Caroline's nearness, Blaine declined his. With his head resting against the rise of the seat back, he closed his eyes and inhaled the fruity scent of her shampoo and the salt air whipping his hair around his head.

So what are you waiting for?
Blaine's senses came to full alert.

He'd heard that voice before, that conviction that it was time to make a move. It never failed him. He had expanded the family business beyond his father's dreams listening to it.

“You know—” Caroline raised her voice above the din of the engine and passenger chatter, turning her face up to him. “I wish I could stay here in this moment forever. Paradise can't be any more beautiful than this.”

She spoke, of course, of the sun-splashed clear water and the curve of sandy beach dotted with exotic green. Or maybe the bleached whites and pastels of the tiled-roofed hotels and casas that lazily climbed the verdant hillside. Or the sky where little puffs of angel-white clouds drifted on a sea of blue, and circling gulls allowed for their human counterparts suspended by colorful parachutes.

“Me too,” Blaine shouted back. Except that the paradise he spoke of was in his arms.

What are you waiting for?

He leaned in close and cleared his voice of the huskiness that filled it. “It could, you know.”

She cocked her head with a puzzled expression. “Where do I sign up?”

Riding on a pontoon boat with a group of strangers and their offspring was hardly the most romantic setting, but if Blaine didn't say what was on his mind, he'd burst.

“At the Edenton courthouse.”

“Huh?”

Obviously their minds were not on the same track. And he didn't even have a ring.

“We can start with a marriage license.”

Caroline wrinkled her nose—the most kissable nose he'd ever seen—and cupped a hand to her ear. “A carriage
what?
”

He gave in and brushed its tip with his lips, working his way to her ear. “Marry me.”

She screamed and karate-slapped his neck. Startled by the hysterical nature of the reply, Blaine felt an urgency to assuage it. “It's okay, you don't have to ans—”

Shoving out of his arms, Caroline danced with some footwork that would turn a boxer green with envy, her ear-shattering “Blaine!” seeming to drown out the engine.

As the boat coasted into neutral, a crew member inserted himself between Blaine and the accusative finger Caroline aimed at him. “Is everything okay here?”

“Dad, what did you do?” Accusation mingled with disbelief reflected in his daughter's voice. From the other twenty or so passengers, just the first prevailed.

Embarrassment scorched Blaine's neck and pumped hot blood through his temples. Even if he could unlock the teeth-aching clench of his jaw, what could he say? He felt as though the anchor a crewman tossed over the side had his tongue attached. His brain too, for that matter.

“Mom?” Annie stumbled across the rocking deck to embrace Caroline, who now shook her head in a fervent denial and started scanning the deck around his feet.

“I asked Caroline to marry me—”

“Spider!” Caroline's squeak of a voice mingled with Blaine's disconcerted reply.

Blaine flinched, his eardrums blasted by Karen's and Annie's double shriek, and jumped to his feet, examining and brushing first one shoulder and then the other in bewilderment. “Where?”

Jerking her head up from her scrutiny of his feet, she gave him a startled look. “You asked me
what?”

Annie tugged on her arm. “Mom, what did you say?”

“Please say yes, Miz C.”

“I want a sister and a dad.”

“You'd be a great mom.”

“He's handsome.”

“Annie can be your maid of honor, and I can be a bridesmaid.”

As shock-wide as Caroline's eyes were, the brightness pooling there made them look even bigger. “Me?”

“No, her.” With a laconic grin, Blaine pointed over Caroline's shoulder to a large woman who peered at him between the wide brim of a sun hat and the top of wraparound sunglasses, as if trying to decide whether or not to clobber him with the quart-sized bottle of sunblock in her hand.

Caroline afforded the half-slathered tourist a darting glance before returning tear-brimmed attention to Blaine. Palms clasped to her face in shock, she bit her lower lip to steady the chin that had begun to tremble.

“Say yes, Mom.”

“Say yes, Miz C.”

“Say yes,” someone nearby shouted, starting a chant that grew louder and louder. “Say yes. Say yes. Say yes . . .”

Encouraged by the support, Blaine shook his loose-fitting shirt.

“Look, spider free.” With a single step, he closed the distance between him and the freckle-faced woman of his dreams.

“Say yes,” he said, his plea gruff with the surge of love he felt for her. He wanted to protect her from all the spiders and threats of the world. Ever so gently he coaxed her hands from her face and kissed the knuckles on each one, never once releasing her from the electric meld of their gazes.

He had his answer, though not a word had been spoken. He saw it dancing among the thousands of green jewels that made up Caroline's eyes. At her slow-motion nod, the onlookers erupted in hoots, whistles, and cheers, but Blaine heard nothing more than the voice of his heart urging him to kiss her.

“Blame it on the moon or the sky or the sea,” he said, the deep timbre of his words vibrating against her chest, “but I've fallen head over heart for you, Caroline Spencer. And when I see something I want
. . .
I move on it.”

He didn't just want her. He
needed
her. He cupped her face between his hands. “I need you, Caroline. Just say the word.”

No wonder he was so successful, Caroline thought. Who could say no to this kind of negotiation?
God, speak now before my heart
overtakes my head. Help me see the downside of this.

“Mom, puh-leeze,” Annie cajoled.

I want a sister and a dad.

You'd be a great mom.

I need you, Caroline.

“Say yes. Say yes. Say . . .”

Caroline's heart swelled with the replay of each word in her mind. Perhaps God had already spoken.

Impatient, Annie gouged the “Yes” that teetered on Caroline's lips off with an elbow jab.

Caroline framed Blaine's clean-shaven jaw with her fingertips. “Oh yes, yes, yes, yes,
yes!
”

“No!” she averred an hour later as Blaine tried to coax her into diving around some rocks. “Honey, it's just not working.” She stretched on the warm bed of sand. “I am perfectly content to watch you and the girls swallowing the ocean one dip at a time.”

Diving was another fancied profession Caroline could cross off her list. She preferred jobs where she could see and breathe. About the time she focused on the underwater glory, her mask fogged or leaked. And she had a mental block about breathing through her nose. After prying the mask off her face for the third time, she threw in the snorkel.

“I'm perfectly happy to look at your photos,” she said. The tour included an underwater throwaway camera for each guest. She'd have to deal with the pictures of her underwater, looking like a drowning blow toad, later.

“But you're missing some beautiful stuff,” he countered.

No, she wasn't. She gave him a quick head-to-toe, envious of the water running in rivulets down the trim, sun-bronzed lines of his torso and legs. Strong, firm legs . . . warrior legs. He'd be a knockout in a toga.

Caroline gave herself a mental slap. One itty-bitty proposal and she'd gone from moonstruck to man-struck.
But just for this
man, God.

“If God wanted me to swim underwater, He'd have given me gills.” She wriggled her nose. “Instead, He made me a beach bunny.”

Blaine's gaze narrowed with accusation. “You
bunnied
me. That's not playing fair.”

The same rogue force that gave his lips a devilish tilt fanned the pilot light that just being with Blaine lit under her senses.

“So, are you guys coming or not?” Karen called out from the natural jetty of rock protruding into the water, where she, Annie, and their tattooed and riveted friend had been swimming.

With a wave at his daughter, Blaine dropped to his knees on the sand. “Just remember, you took off the gloves with that twitchy thing you did with your nose, not me.”

“What do you mean?” Caroline's pulse quickened. She glanced around the quiet cay. Except for a thoroughly oblivious couple further down the beach, most of the tourists were in the water. A few hundred yards away, the catamaran swayed and dipped with the tide, its staff divided between the craft and the water. Then there were the impatient girls out on the rocks. “Our daughters are watching you.”

Blaine gave her a look that would melt butter. “Then they'll have to get used to this, won't they?” He pulled Caroline's sun-warmed body against his cold, wet one, and showered her with hungry little kisses.

“Blaine!” The shiver from without doused the quiver from within. Caroline dissolved into laughter. “You are freezing me.”

“Serves you right,” he growled, continuing to nibble at her neck. “Mmm . . . salty.”