The Color of Forever (27 page)

“So am I,” he replied. “How long will you be in Portland?”

“I fly out the day after tomorrow.”

He shut his eyes and touched his forehead to mine. “No, please, you have to stay longer.”

“I’m supposed to be back at work on Monday.”

“Can you ask for more time off? I really want to get to know you better.”

“I want that, too.”

He looked up quickly and scanned the surrounding area, as if to make sure we weren’t about to sail into a reef or another oncoming boat, then he kissed me again, and my body erupted in a storm of pleasure and wanting. In that instant, I wanted to quit my job and never go back. Even if it meant losing everything. At least I wouldn’t have to walk away from his kiss.

“I suppose I could ask for a few more days,” I said breathlessly.

He dragged his lips across my cheek and down to my neck where he laid a trail of soft, intoxicating kisses on my shoulder.

“I don’t owe them anything,” I continued. “They just passed me up for a promotion I’d been working toward, for years.”

He drew back slightly. “Really. What was it?”

I felt suddenly embarrassed for having brought it up, because I didn’t want to put a damper on the evening. “It was just the anchor desk on the evening news,” I explained, trying to make light of it.

“
Just
the anchor desk? That sounds big.”

Unable to hide my disappointment, I let out a breath. “It was, to me.”

“What happened?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. My boss had been telling me for years that I was the top choice when our long-time anchor retired, but at the last minute, they brought in someone new from another station. I haven’t felt particularly loyal to the station since then.”

“I don’t blame you,” he said. “Are you going to stay on there?”

I spoke with a more positive tone. “As it happens, I’ve already applied for another job—at CNN in New York. Your mother mentioned that your brother works there and she was kind enough to say she’d give him a call and put in a good word for me, so we’ll see.”

Aaron’s expression stilled and grew serious. He sat back slightly and said nothing. Then he slowly stood up, moved to the wheel, and leaned away from me to check our direction on the compass.

“Would you mind taking the wheel?” he asked without looking at me. “It’s time to tack.”

“Sure.” I rose to my feet and took hold.

“When I tell you to, turn the boat hard over toward the wind like we did before. In that direction.” He pointed. “Don’t stop turning until I say, and don’t forget to duck when I yell ‘tacking’ because that’s when the boom swings across.”

“I promise, I’ll duck.”

He left me there while he quickly adjusted the sails. A moment later, we were on a new direct path toward the mooring at Kettle Cove.

I remained at the wheel while Aaron left me alone and went below for a few minutes. When he came back up, he took over. “Thanks, you can have a seat for now.”

I moved to the bench, feeling certain that something had gone wrong. The magic had disappeared and he seemed focused only on returning to the cove.

“Is something the matter?” I asked after a few more minutes of silence. “Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”

He inhaled deeply, then shook his head and finally looked down at me. “No, it’s fine. I apologize. It’s not you. It’s just that…” He looked out at the water again. “You mentioned my brother, and we don’t get along too well.”

“I see.” I thought about Aaron’s stories about his childhood and all the sailing he had done with his father, and realized that he had never once mentioned his brother. “You haven’t talked about him.”

“No. We haven’t spoken in a long time. Years.”

This surprised me, because everything about Aaron struck me as serene and sensitive. He didn’t seem like the type of man who would hold a grudge against his brother or enjoy conflict. But how well did I really know him? He was a bachelor, after all—a very handsome, rich, eligible one who should have been snapped up by now. Why hadn’t he been? Was he unwilling or unable to sustain a long-term relationship?

I felt a shiver of unease suddenly as I watched him steer the boat, and was reminded of Bailey’s warnings, and how I had resolved to be careful with my heart, because this man was
not
my deeply devoted husband who could not bear the loss of me. I was not Evangeline. He was not Captain Sebastian Fraser. Not in
this
lifetime. He was Aaron Peterson. A complete stranger before today.

“What happened between you and your brother, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Aaron remained at the helm, staring straight ahead. “It wasn’t just one thing. It was an entire childhood of disagreements and fistfights and competition.”

“Competition?”

He glanced briefly at me. “Over everything, pretty much. I was the oldest and maybe he always felt like second fiddle or something. I don’t know what started it, but he seemed jealous of anything I had, and we just…never seemed to like each other very much. Different personalities, I guess.”

“How did you parents handle it?” I asked.

“Not very well. When we were small, they used to punish us for fighting and they’d force us to apologize to each other. Then they gave up eventually and put us in separate rooms so they wouldn’t have to deal with it on a daily basis. When we were teenagers, my dad spent more time with me while my mother always favored Jack. That’s why I’m closer to my father than to my mother. But as soon as I was old enough to move out, I came here and Jack stayed in Chicago, until he got the job in New York.”

Aaron looked down at me. “So what will you do if you get the job?”

The wind felt stronger and colder all of a sudden, and I folded my arms across my chest to keep warm. “I don’t know. It depends on what they’re offering, and what the job’s going to be like. It’s not an anchor position, but all I want is a fresh start somewhere so I can work my way up.”

Aaron nodded and made an effort to sound supportive. “That sounds like a good plan.”

When we drew nearer to Kettle Cove, he dropped the sails and used the motor to bring us back to the mooring. We didn’t talk much while he secured the boat. He told me he didn’t need any help, so I went below to check my phone for texts.

There was only one, from Bailey:
How’s it going?

I quickly texted her back:
Just okay. We’re back now but we’re still on the boat. I’ll tell you about it when I see you
.

Aaron came down the companionway and looked at me. “I’m sorry about all that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“You weren’t,” I replied, even though I had felt—quite deeply—the obvious chill of his withdrawal, and I still felt uncomfortable.

He studied my expression and glanced down at my phone, which I slipped into my jacket pocket. “I was just texting Bailey,” I said, not knowing why I felt the need to explain myself.

“That’s good,” he said. “Now that we’re back, would you like a glass of wine?”

I glanced at the open hatch door and rubbed my hands together. They felt numb from the cold. “I should probably get back soon.”

His shoulders fell, and he took a few steps closer. “Please, don’t go like this. Let me make it up to you. We can stay down here where it’s warmer and sit at the table.”

Recognizing a genuine look of regret in his eyes, I made an effort to let go of my unease. “All right. I guess it’s not that late.” I texted Bailey with the change in plans and smiled at Aaron as I hit the send button.

“Good.” He moved to a storage compartment and retrieved a bottle of red wine, opened it and stood at the galley counter to fill two clear plastic tumblers.

I slid onto the cushioned bench behind the table and waited for him to join me. He set the glasses down, and we clinked them together and shared a look of apology.

“I’m really sorry,” he said again. “Even after all these years, from miles away, my brother still brings out the worst in me.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, but I felt some relief when Aaron reached for my hand and held it. I felt the natural intimacy between us begin to return.

“You just caught me off guard, that’s all,” he continued to explain. “I really like you, Katelyn, and when I imagined my mother setting you up with my brother—even though it was just for a job interview—my back went up.”

“It shouldn’t bother you,” I said. “Haven’t you been able to tell how much I’ve been enjoying myself tonight? With
you
?”

He looked down at our joined hands on the table. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t put it past Jack to make a move on you, just to spite me.”

“Would he really do that?” I asked. “After all these years? You’re not kids anymore. Maybe he’s matured.”

Aaron picked up his glass and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe,” he said skeptically.

“You don’t think so.”

He shook his head. “When we were in high school and I was a senior, I asked a junior out, because she seemed interested in me. When Jack found out, he accused me of dating her just to agitate him, because unbeknownst to me, he’d been in love with her since the fifth grade. Or so he claimed. Of course I didn’t know this because we weren’t close, and I genuinely liked the girl, so I didn’t back off. I dated her for a year and Jack never forgave me. Then, when I started seeing Eve, he came here to stay at the summer house for a few weeks, and behind my back, he asked her out and didn’t say very good things about me. He caused all sorts of problems.” Aaron took another drink of his wine. “Eve and I broke up over it until she figured out that Jack was just trying to get back at me. When we got back together, I proposed.”

“Do you think, maybe, that’s why you rushed into marrying her when you were so young? To make sure Jack wouldn’t steal her away?”

Aaron ran his fingers across my hand and squeezed it gently. “That might have had something to do with it.”

I felt warmer all of a sudden, pleased that Aaron was at least opening up to me. “Competition between brothers,” I lightly said. “I’m sure you two are not the first.”

I raised my plastic tumbler and finished my wine. Aaron reached for the bottle and gave me a refill.

“So now you know the whole story,” he said with an intimate and almost seductive look that made me feel shivery and happy inside.

Leaning closer, I touched my lips to his. He immediately took my face in his warm hands and deepened the kiss. The lush, heated pressure of his mouth caused a burst of sensation over every inch of my body and I felt an urge to squirm closer against him.

Soon we were making out like a couple of teenagers on the cushioned seat, and it was starting to get a little out of hand, so I placed my open hand on his chest and pushed him back slightly. “Easy, sailor. Let’s not go
too
crazy on the first date.”

He chuckled softly, closed his eyes and touched his forehead to mine. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m not usually this impatient, but from the first second I saw you today, sitting by the window with the light in your hair, I was a goner.”

I felt a warm glow inside me.

“I wanted you, too,” I replied, and it was the truth. Whether we were soulmates, or whether this was just plain old-fashioned love at first sight, I had no idea. But whatever it was, it was powerfully hot, and wonderfully irresistible.

And I knew one thing for sure. I wouldn’t be flying back to Seattle just yet. Bailey would simply have to go home without me.

Chapter Forty-six

Over the next few days—after Bailey flew home and I made arrangements to stay at the inn for another full week—my life began to feel like a fairy tale.

The magic began the night Bailey left, when Aaron offered to cook me dinner at his condo, which turned out to be a luxurious, modern penthouse overlooking Portland Harbor. Based on the building amenities and high-end appliances and décor, I guessed it must have had a market value of well over a million dollars.

We sat on his balcony where he barbequed two perfect steaks, which he served with sautéed mushrooms, roasted potatoes, boiled beets, and a delicious green salad. For dessert he brought out a tub of chocolate chip ice cream, which we ate straight out of the container. We had dinner out the next night and went sailing again. This time he let me do more things on my own. He was an excellent teacher.

The following night, we went to the movies and drew straws over which film to see. By the time he drove me back to Cape Elizabeth and pulled up the long tree-lined lane to the Fraser House Inn, it was almost midnight. Knowing what I knew about the history of the house—and the possibility that he had been its owner in another lifetime—I was curious to find out if he might recognize anything about it, or feel something extraordinary as it came into view.

I watched him carefully in that moment, but saw no indication of any past life memories or a sense of déjà vu. He simply pulled to a halt on the gravel lot, shut off the engine, and took hold of my hand.

“I had a great time tonight,” he said.

“Me, too,” I replied. Then all too quickly, I asked, “I know it’s late, but would you like to come in and have a drink? Have you ever been inside this house before?”

He sat forward slightly, seeming almost amused by my enthusiasm. “I actually looked at it when it was on the market a number of years ago, but I decided not to offer on it.”