Summers' Love, A Cute and Funny Cinderella Love Story (LPC Romantic Comedy Series) (13 page)

“Deal.”

“Ah, Jill … I love a good businesswoman. I really do. Now, go sell those ball caps.” He ended the call with a laugh.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Kate said, taking the phone from him.

“You’re welcome.”

“I could have lost my job.”

“If you do, you can come to work for me. Like I keep telling you, I can always use a good branding person.” Tapping the screen on the chart plotter he added, “Meantime, if we don’t want to run aground on these shoals we better head a little farther east.” He winked at her. “There’s a reason why they call this area the Graveyard of the Atlantic, you know.”

“So we’re really going to do this? We’re really going to sail to Cape Lookout?”

Before he could answer, the line sang out in that high-pitched way that let Stu know he had caught a big fish.

Eyeing the bent rod in the holder, he replied, “You betcha. And if we’re lucky, we’ll have grilled fish for supper.”

Chapter Fifteen

Kate watched from the silver-spoked pedestal steering wheel as Stu gaffed the yellow fin tuna and then filleted it on deck. Taking great care, he placed the juicy chunks of meat into a plastic bag containing lemon slices, and—according to what he was telling her—a dash of Italian dressing. He used a bucket to rinse away the blood, then scrubbed the deck clean and went below to put the fish in the icebox. When he returned, he stood in such a way that the sun highlighted the stubble on his chin. Kate thought he looked ruggedly handsome with his deep blue eyes reflecting the sun’s golden rays and bangs feathered back by the breeze.

He placed one hand on the wheel next to hers, signaling his desire to steer.

“So what’s the plan?” Kate asked, moving aside so he could take the helm.

Stu pointed toward the forest of sailboat masts beyond the sand dunes. “We try to find a place to anchor. Looks like it’s pretty crowded in there. Saturday night in the Bight usually is.”

Kate stood slightly behind so she could observe, without looking directly at him, the way his strong hands massaged the wheel as he made small adjustments to their heading. He seemed to be at one with the boat: long, brown legs shifting his weight easily as the boat heeled, eyes scanning the water ahead for other boats.

Stu took another look toward the nearby shoreline. “I have to be honest with you. It’s been years since I’ve tried to set an anchor.”

Kate patted his shoulder. “I have great faith in you.”

And she did. Even as they had battled the currents around the tip of Cape Lookout point, Stu had refused to start the engine, preferring instead to make two long tacks to clear the shoals. Now they sailed close-hauled with the wind almost on the nose. Each time the headsail began to luff, he dipped the bow off the wind and Kate felt the rush of momentum as they accelerated. Ahead, a flashing red sea buoy marked the harbor entrance; despite their close proximity to shore and a fleet of small boats near the rock jetty, Stu seemed unfazed by it all. Normally she would have felt uneasy letting someone else take control, but not now, not today. For some unexplainable reason she felt comforted knowing he was in charge. She trusted him like she had trusted her father and, as she and Stu worked together, she thought how meshed together they seemed to be. Soul mates, she thought, though secretly she didn’t believe in such fairy tales.

Neither spoke for several minutes. When it became obvious they would clear the red sea buoy without having to come about, he fell off the wind and they turned into the large bay.

“Wind is out of the north. I think it’s best if we anchor off Shackelford Banks,” he said, pointing toward a desolate beach. “Don’t you?”

“You’re the captain.” She observed the numerous vessels anchored in the Bight, excited to be a part of those who were there. “This really has been a fun day,” she said looking at him. “Thanks for inviting me along.”

His smile was infectious. “And I’m glad
you
showed up last night. Gave me an excuse to go sailing.” His expression sobered. “Seriously, I would have never even thought about doing this if you hadn’t showed up.”

“Still, this has been fun. It definitely beats selling ball caps in the mall.”

His eyes met hers. “Yes. Yes it does.”

Now, in calm water, without the discomfort of the boat jostling about, they were able to stand close, uninterrupted by wind and wave. For a moment she thought he might kiss her. She wanted him to. She wanted to feel his fingers tracing the curves of her face. She realized something had changed since they left Ocracoke. Maybe it was the sailing or the carefree feeling she felt blowing off her work, but being with him gave her a sense of calm. And although she couldn’t pinpoint the exact time—yesterday after dinner, or this morning during Bible study, or maybe even now as they stood side-by-side in the cockpit of his yacht—she knew that she had begun to wonder if he sensed it, too. Overwhelmed by a sudden desire for him, Kate tilted her face toward his.

His breath moved across her eyelashes. “I, ah …” His words became a ragged whisper.

Knowing full well the effect she had on him, she exposed more of her neck. “You, ah, what?” she whispered. Just thinking about him pulling her close sent a surge of warmth shooting through her chest.

He took a step back. “I better go get the anchor ready.”

He bounded onto the side deck with cat-like quickness. Walking toward the bow, he released the pin that held the anchor and stationed his foot over the windlass. She clutched the wheel for support, afraid that if she let go her knees would buckle, and kept her eyes focused on his tapered waist. He signaled for her to throttle down with a clinched fist. She followed his hand signals, making small corrections as she steered the sailboat toward shore. To her right the lighthouse loomed large, its oscillating light bright against the deep purple of the eastern sky.

Kate shifted her focus to the depth sounder: twelve feet, ten, seven …

At last he held up his hand, signaling for her to stop. Kate spun the wheel, turning the sailboat into the wind. She heard a loud thrashing of the sails as they beat against the mast. At the same time the anchor splashed and its chain clanked over the bow roller. Stu stood resolute on the bow with his back to her, his shoulders wide compared to the smallness of his waist.

Kate sighed; if ever there were a real life Adonis, he was that god. She took a deep breath to steady her thoughts, reminding herself that she was here to get books signed, not go overboard.

The sails began to backwind, causing the sailboat to pivot and jerking her mind back to where it should be. She cut the wheel over hard and released both the main and jib sheet.

“I think we’re set!” called Stu. “See if we’re drifting.”

Kate looked to her right and left, picturing the sailboat as a dot in the middle of an imaginary line—
just like dad taught me
.

She watched for several seconds and replied, “We’re good!”

Stu cleared the foredeck, storing rope and chain, and joined her in the cockpit. “Kate Winston, I have to tell you, for a couple who never sailed together we make a pretty good team. I bet there’s not another boat in the anchorage that did today what we just did.”

“You mean sail from Ocracoke?”

“That and set the anchor under sail. I mean it; you’re one heck of a sailor. Your dad would be proud.”

At the mention of her father, Kate found herself tearing up and turned away quickly. She breathed in salt air and struggled to keep from bawling,
again
, in front of him. From behind she felt his strong hands pulling her toward him.

“Hey, did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you, it’s …” She thumbed her eyes and turned towards him. “You’re a pretty terrific skipper, yourself.”

“Sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours?”

“Maybe later.”

“Okay, then, what say we go ashore while there’s still some daylight left?”

“How? Are we going to swim in?”

He shook his head. “There’s a small—and I do mean tiny—inflatable stored in the aft locker. We can use the foot pump to blow it up. Shouldn’t take but a few minutes. While I do that, how about you toss a few beers into that small cooler?” With the back of his hand he smoothed away the last of her tears, sending a flight of butterflies through her belly. “Hurry though; we don’t want to miss the sunset.”

* * *

Lapping waves swooshed over their feet as they stepped from the inflatable. The water felt cool as it sloshed around the cuffs of his rolled-up jeans. With Kate’s help, they dragged the boat clear of the tide line.

Stu lifted the small cooler from the boat and motioned up the beach. “Shall we?”

They walked in silence, him carrying the cooler and Kate toting their shoes. The breeze out of the northwest brought with it the woodsy smell of pines and salt marshes. Motor yachts and fishing boats raced past the red sea buoy on their way into the Bight, sending swells rolling toward the beach.

In the sweet silence of the moment, Stu thought back on the last twenty-four hours and how much things had changed. When he’d spotted the woman standing on his dock, his one thought had been how he could twist their serendipitous meeting into a love story for his novel. His first chapter had flowed easily, but now, even though the day had provided lots of new material, he felt as though he would be violating something sacred if he wrote about their shared experience. Still, he did need a completed manuscript by week’s end. Or at least enough of a story to get his editor to back off.

They were a good hundred yards up the beach when Kate broke the silence. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“I guess that would depend on the question.”

She stopped and leaned toward him, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. He studied her delicate hand for a moment and imagined what it might look like with a diamond engagement ring on her finger. When he sensed her watching him, he felt both embarrassed and more confused than ever. The events of the past two days were so unexpected. Kate wasn’t just a stranger anymore, nor was she just a character in his novel. There was no question he was drawn to her.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“
That’s
your question?”

“No, silly, it’s just … you looked bothered by something.”

Stu shifted his gaze toward the setting sun. Go ahead, he thought. Tell her what’s really got you all tied up in knots.

“I was thinking,” he finally said, “that I could get used to you and me doing this.”

She smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Her gaze shifted from his eyes to something behind him. “Are those horses?”

He looked toward the dunes. Three brown ponies stood atop the ridge of sand amidst a field of sea oats.

“I’ve never seen wild horses so close.”

“I heard on the news some time ago that they’re having a problem keeping the herds healthy. Not enough water and vegetation for the increasing number of wild ponies. My guess is, if they’re on the beach this close, they’re scrounging for food and have lost their fear of people.”

“Not me, I never trust strangers.”

“Not even me?”

“Depends. How strange are you?”

“Oh, I’m pretty out there.”

Her hand fell away from his wrist, prompting him to set down the cooler. He dropped to one knee and drew a circle in the sand. Using two small shells as eyes he made a smiley face. He smoothed the sand with his palm and drew another face, this one smaller, and linked the two faces with stick figure hands.

He eased all the way down and sat. Brushing sand from his hands he asked, “Come on, tell me. What is it you want to know?”

Kate joined him on the sand. “Last night you hinted that there was something you wanted to tell me.”

“I did?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Stop it. You know what I’m talking about. At dinner?”

He took a deep breath and leaned back, hooking one ankle over the other. “Oh, boy,” he said, allowing his eyes to roam the horizon. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”

“Really? Why?”

He stared at their bare feet, coated with delicate grains of sand. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

The dull drone of a sport fishing boat racing by caused him to look up. Near the water’s edge a flock of gulls waddled away from the advancing tide. Twilight deepened as he carefully considered how to respond to Kate’s question. To admit he wasn’t really a best-selling author but a hack who bought manuscripts might kill any chance he had with her and he definitely did not want to do that. Still … he’d only known her a short while, and yet he felt comfortable with her—as comfortable as he’d ever felt with anyone. It was as though she was a piece of himself he’d never known was missing.

She drew up her knees and leaned forward, linking them with her arms and resting her chin on the “table” they made. He could feel her looking at his face, as though patiently waiting for him to continue.

If he could answer her—if he could answer her
honestly
—he would say, “Complicated because I’m not who you think I am.” Instead, Stu pulled two Mich Ultras from the cooler and twisted the caps. He handed one to Kate. “Here’s to a gorgeous Cape Lookout sunset.”