Under the Boardwalk: A Dazzling Collection of All New Summertime Love Stories (21 page)

"Drew will make a wonderful father," she replied. "However, you are rushing things, Father. I haven't had the opportunity to ask him to marry me yet."

Drew almost missed the last bit since he was busy preening over the part where she said he'd make a good father. However, the word
marry
did register, and he sat up straight at that. "Hannah?"

"You asked last time," she said, offering a nervous smile. "It's my turn."

Roger Mayfield slumped into a chair.

Marriage. Drew dragged his palm down the side of his face. Marriage. With Hannah doing the asking. Without knowing the Castaway Bait Company had made him a wealthy man.

And here I thought this day had taken a dive toward the bottom.

He squelched a smile and asked, "So, are you asking me now?"

"No. Not in front of… company."

"You afraid of my answer?"

She shrugged. "Maybe a little bit."

Across the table from him, Jeremy started stacking lure boxes into two different stacks and whistling under his breath.

"Just a little?"

'Yes, just a little."

"Hmm…" Damn, she looked cute standing there all nonchalant. If they were alone he'd kiss her witless right now. Drew slanted a look toward ol' Jeremy. Maybe he'd do it anyway.

While he debated the idea, Hannah's father moaned. "Oh, Hannah. You do love him, don't you? A woman's love, not a girl's."

"Yes, Papa."

"I feared as much. You never got over the man. You've not been happy since our move to San Antonio. I recognized the fact, but I didn't want to admit it." He yanked a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and blew his nose. "I thought I was doing what was best for you, Daughter. I thought you were too young to know your own mind. I wanted more for you than the struggle of a life as a fisherman's wife. I didn't mean to ruin your happiness. I didn't begin to guess the degree of my mistake when I forced an annulment upon you."

Drew couldn't believe he was hearing the man correctly. How long would these wonders keep on coming? Even as he wallowed in the pleasure of the moment, the sheer misery painted on Roger Mayfield's face propelled him to his feet and prodded him to say, "That's enough. You were a father protecting his daughter from a man who wasn't good enough for her. I hope I'll be that vigilant if I'm ever so lucky as to have a daughter of my own."

Mayfield gazed at him in shock. Jeremy pursed his lips in a soundless whistle, then took a Spinning Squid Bait from its box. Hannah protested, "What do you mean, not good enough?"

"It's true, honey. I had no ambition. I was content to spend my days fishing and beachcombing, picking up work in Galveston only when I needed it. I had no business marrying you."

"Well, thank you very much," she replied, folding her arms in a huff.

Drew couldn't help but grin at the picture of peeve she presented. "Ah, honey, you can't get snitty about the truth. You were smart enough back then to question my ability to provide for you and any children we might have. Don't discount that intelligence now."

That appeared to give Mayfield a new bit of wind for his sails. "So what about it, Coryell? Are you willing to leave this island and find a position to support my daughter in a manner in which she deserves?"

"I don't believe that'll be necessary," Jeremy piped up.

Drew glanced at him, saw what he was doing, and realized the jig was literally up.

"This is a Castaway Hannah Jig," Jeremy continued, dangling the lure. "Quite a selection of baits you have here, Coryell. I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't one of everything the Castaway Bait Company has produced."

Mayfield snarled. "What does that have to do with anything, Judge?"

"Judge?" Drew inquired. "I thought your name was Jeremy."

"The name is Jeremy Eckler. I'm an attorney by profession and am serving a temporary stint as a state court judge. But I'm a fisherman by avocation."

Hannah's brows arched. "Is that right, Jeremy? I never knew that about you."

Drew was aghast. "You were going to marry the man and you didn't know he liked to fish?"

"She never would have married me. I've known that for quite some time now. I do consider her a great friend, however, so I was happy to accompany Roger on this trip to serve in whatever capacity he required." Nodding toward Mayfield, he added, "Your concerns as to his financial status can likely be put to bed." Then, looking at Drew, he tossed the jig on the table and said, "Am I right?"

Glumly, Drew nodded. "This is not how I imagined all this happening."

"All
what
happening?" Impatience riddled Hannah's voice.

When Drew didn't answer, Jeremy took the bait. Lifting the top box from one of the stacks of lures, he read aloud, "Presented by Castaway Bait Company. The Castaway Hannah Trolling Spoon." Setting that box down, he picked up a second. "The Castaway Hannah Cock-Tail Kicker." A third. "The Castaway Hannah Spinning Squid Bait." Now, the dates on the lure boxes indicate these were all produced during the company's first year. As the years pass, the number of Hannah baits drops to… ?"

"One," Drew said with a sigh. "We're doing one Hannah bait every year now."

"Drew, explain yourself," Hannah demanded, her voice soft and suspicious.

All in all, he thought, he'd rather sit down to supper with sand sharks. He scratched his stubbled beard and took just a moment to wax philosophical. For years he'd worked every day from dawn till dusk dreaming of this very moment. He'd thrown himself into the effort to build Castaway Bait Company with the intention of one day rubbing his success in the Mayfield family's collective face.

Now that the day had finally arrived, success wasn't what he had it in mind to be rubbing.

"Drew?"

Ol’Judge Jeremy apparently decided to help him along. "Hannah, Roger," he said. "Have you ever taken time to peruse the pamphlet that comes folded inside the lure boxes? You should. It makes interesting reading. In the case of these lures, it includes a personal quality guarantee from the founder and president of the Castaway Bait Company…" he paused dramatically and met Drew's gaze. "… a Mr. Andrew Coryell of Wild Horse Island, Texas."

Roger Mayfield gasped audibly. "I don't believe it. You're not a beachcombing bounder after all?"

Jeremy settled back in his chair, an amused grin stretching across his face. "I keep my eyes on Texas business. It's a safe bet that Hannah's honey is a wealthy man."

Drew winced as Hannah's mouth dropped open, her complexion flushing red, then draining white, then brightening all the way to crimson.

"Castaway Hannah this," she said, taking a threatening step in Drew's direction. "Castaway Hannah that. Castaway Hannah Cock-Tail Kicker? What sort of message were you sending?"

He shrugged. "Well, in hindsight, I wonder about that myself. Since lures are snapped on the end of a line, doesn't matter that you can cast them away because they almost always come back. Funny how the mind works, isn't it? That's not at all what I was thinking when I came up with those names."

"Your company." Roger stood, his face glowing with delight. "Castaway Bait is your company. Why, that's wonderful. Isn't it, Hannah?"

"Wonderful?" Eyes narrowed, she advanced on Drew. An intelligent man, he pushed from his seat and backed away. "Wonderful?" she repeated. "That's not the term I would choose, Father. Words that pop to my mind are sneaky, underhanded, liar…"

She backed him up against the wall. Drew offered up, "Justifiable."

She snorted. "Mean."

"Broken-hearted."

"Wicked."

"Repentant."

She paused at that, then continued with a sniff. "Cagey."

She stood so close to him, her breasts brushed his chest. His body reacted, growing hard, and he shifted forward just enough to touch her. "Lover."

Hannah stared deeply into his eyes, gazing all the way to his soul.

"Lover," he repeated in a whisper, his nostrils flaring as he drew in the scent of sand and sea and sex still clinging to her. "My lover."

He waited a long, tense moment, then her eyes softened, and he breathed a sigh of relief. But he sighed too soon.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You assumed I'd stayed here on the island all this time. I might have told the truth if you'd asked."

"Drew, " she protested.

"Well, it's true. Besides, I didn't want to win you with my wealth. I wanted to do it with—"

"Your Musky Wriggler?"

Her father chimed in. "Hannah Mayfield!"

Drew cracked a grin, his gaze never leaving Hannah's as he addressed her father. "It's a Castaway Musky Wriggler and it's one of our best-sellers. I used it to trounce your daughter in a fishing contest earlier today."

She wrinkled her nose. "Well, don't take it personally, Coryell, but I still prefer live bait."

A crude suggestion came to mind, but he managed to swallow the words.

Her father cleared his throat. "Well… urn… yes… uh. Oh my. Jeremy, I think it would probably be better all around if we finished our business here right away. It's shaping up to be a fair evening for sailing."

Drew's head came up and he drilled Mayfield a glare. "Hannah is not leaving, not this time."

"No, I expected as much when I made this trip, and it's one reason I asked Jeremy to come along. My Hannah hasn't been happy these past ten years. And while I know she dreams of a home and family of her own, she hasn't allowed herself to fall for any of the men I've encouraged her to see."

"Not even me, and I'm a great catch," Jeremy pointed out. "Dealing with rejection has been difficult, I'll have you know."

Hannah laughed and turned around, facing the others, but remaining within the shelter of Drew's arms. "You are a wonderful catch, Jeremy, and had my heart not already been committed elsewhere, I'd have surely cast my line your way."

"Fine, fine, fine," Drew said impatiently. "What does that have to do with sailing?"

Roger Mayfield folded his arms. "If it's all the same to you, I’d just as soon not share a shelter with my daughter on her wedding night."

"Wedding night?" Drew and Hannah asked in tandem.

Jeremy hooked his thumbs behind his jacket lapels. "I'm a judge, remember? It's why your father asked me to come along. The paperwork is all taken care of, save for your signatures, of course."

Hannah stepped toward her rather, wonderment in her voice as she asked, "You planned for me to marry Drew? That's why you came to Wild Horse Island?"

He shrugged. "It's my duty as a father to see that he makes an honest woman of you."

"You mean I'm going to marry Drew today? Here? Now?" Horror rose in her tone as she glanced down. "In
this
dress?"

"Here and now, yes. But I brought along your mother's wedding gown just in case you'd like to wear it."

Her chin slowly fell and she silently mouthed the words,
Mama's dress
. Then she looked at Drew, her eyes moist and filled with hopeful joy. "Is this all right with you?"

"Ah, honey, it's more than all right. It will be my greatest joy." He paused, then added, "Although I do have one condition."

"Condition!" Mayfield exclaimed, his tone ripe with offense as Drew scrounged a pencil from the depths of the tackle box, then wrote a string of numbers on the bottom of a lure box.

He handed the box to Mayfield. "Yep, a condition. This is the combination to my safe in the Castaway Bait Company's offices. I want you to sail up to Galveston and retrieve my wedding gift to my bride and take it with you back to San Antonio or Austin or wherever you think it belongs."

Hannah's eyes widened, then filled with tears. "Oh, Drew."

"What is this?" her father asked. "I don't understand."

"Oh, Daddy," she said, her gaze locked with Drew's. "He's giving me—giving us all—the most wonderful gift." Then she threw herself into Drew's arms and gave him the kind of thank you kiss most men can only dream about.

Mayfield's brows knitted. "What gift?"

"It must be a damned good one," Jeremy observed as the kiss went on and on and on.

Hannah finally came up for air, then laughed and looked toward her father. "He's giving it to me to give to Texas, Papa. Drew has one of the missing copies of the Declaration of Independence."