Half-Hitched

“Should I check?”

Sarah frowned. “Check what?”

“To see if the six hottest members of the U.S. Navy are waiting naked in your room?”

She giggled. “That’s not what I wished for.”

“Then I hope you get whatever it was.” He got to his feet, reached down and pulled her up opposite him as if she weighed nothing. “And I think you need to go to bed.”

“Yes, Dad.” She didn’t resist when his arms came around her. He was such a good friend. So patient with her, so nonthreatening. Why couldn’t she fall in love with him?

“Listen to me.”

“Mmm?” She laid her head on his solid shoulder.

“You are going to sleep really well tonight.” He started stroking her hair, working the tense muscles at the base of her scalp. “And tomorrow you are going to wake up and realize you’ve put this Derek demon totally to bed.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes. As if. She’d be happy if she could think about him without getting wet. And talk to him without getting so flustered and guilty she could barely form words.

“And.” Joe rocked her back and forth. “You are going to remind yourself that I love you no matter how insane you get, no matter how completely and insufferably annoying, no matter how—”

“Uh, Joe?” She patted his chest. “Yeah, um, thanks. That’s enough.”

“No problem.” He squeezed her then took her hand. “Let’s go.”

“I’m ready.” She followed him across the beach, fumbling for her flashlight. “Hey, who was that girl you were talking to all night? The cute little one.”

“Carrie?”

“Yeah. Where’s your flashlight?” She tried to remember seeing him use one, still not having any luck extracting hers from her sweatshirt pocket since it was on the side of the hand Joe was holding.

“Don’t need one. Just follow me.”

“Wait, seriously? Through the woods? The path is treacherous and it’s pitch-black. I’ve come here all my life and even I wouldn’t do it.”

“I have cat eyes.”

“Joe…” She hung back, still trying for the flashlight, until he tugged her impatiently forward.

“Just lift your feet so you don’t trip. You’ll be fine.”

“Okay. But if you kill me I’m suing.” She followed him a few more steps, getting braver as it became apparent he was navigating nicely. “So…what about Carrie?”

“Nice girl. What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice came out too high and she had to relax her throat to get it back to normal. “Do you like her?”

He snorted impatiently. “No, I talked to her all night because she repulsed me.”

“Okay, okay. Never mind.” Sarah’s giggle felt forced. What was wrong with her, she was so self-absorbed she couldn’t even be happy for her best friend? “I’m glad for you. I hope something comes of it. You deserve someone wonderful.”

“I think so, too.” He pulled her up unerringly through the trees, finding the path past the blueberry patch and up to the house, supporting her when she stumbled. It was actually kind of mysterious and cool.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Joe.”

He chuckled and opened the back door for her to go inside. “I hope you never have to find out.”

She kissed his cheek and crossed through the living room toward the bedroom she shared with Addie, noticing how much calmer and lighter she felt, how much more clear and slow-moving her brain was. Joe was good for her. He always had been. Knew her inside out, tolerated her worst faults and adored her strengths. What more could a woman want?

Macho alpha sizzle. Daring, adventure, challenge.

Sarah sighed and used the hall bathroom, then climbed into bed, careful not to disturb Addie.

Sometimes she thought she must be the most shallow person alive. But if she was deep-down wired to be attracted to guys like Derek, Ethan and Kevin instead of guys like Joe, there wasn’t a single damn thing she could do about it.

4

ADDIE WAS CONFUSED. Standing on the cliff in front of the Bossons’ house, drinking champagne punch, keeping an eye out for Kevin’s arrival, she was in a thorough state of turmoil. And since confusion didn’t visit her very often, thank goodness, she could safely say that she didn’t like it. At all. Most of the time her emotional life was, if not under control, then at least comprehensible. She was single or she was in a relationship. She was friends with someone or she wasn’t. She had a crush on a guy or she didn’t.

She’d come to this island with a head full of Kevin. Her past with him, the promise of intimate time with him this weekend, and the vaguest whisper of possibility that they could continue some relationship into the future—Philadelphia wasn’t that far from New York City after all. Over a decade of mooning and fantasy about to come true.

And then she met Derek.

Her love of the simple and the clear—statistics and probabilities and interpretable data—did not prepare her for a man who, during their first-ever meeting unsettled her to the point of blathering, who wanted to watch the sunset alone with her, and who, in a low, dreamy voice, as much as said he wanted to kiss her. Frankly, for a few seconds—okay, many seconds—she’d wanted him to kiss her more than she’d wanted to go on breathing.

Even if Sarah’s story about Derek wasn’t one-hundred percent accurate, as Derek claimed, he was still a girl-in-every-port guy in his mid-thirties, while Kevin, at thirtyone, had already been totally committed to one woman in a marriage, faithful until divorce did them part.

Shouldn’t that clear everything up? A rational conclusion drawn from the available information, leading to a sensible low-risk recommendation for future action. Derek was a womanizer. Kevin was a sweetheart. Only an idiot would still dream about Derek. Or do something completely foolish like keep peeking over at him on a kayak trip earlier that afternoon. She’d interrupted perfectly wonderful chances to stare into the water, spot orange and purple starfish, waving seaweed that looked nearly floral, blue mussels and splotchy pink growths on underwater reefs by looking up every three seconds to keep track of where he was and with whom. Worse, she’d caught him several times in the act of looking over at her, too.

For a while he’d paddled alongside her kayak, and they’d chatted easily about his extensive travels and her not-so-extensive ones. About movies and books and favorite foods. Through it all, he’d shown no signs of anything more than friendly interest, and then he’d quite naturally steered his kayak over to chat with someone else.

Well, of course, right? He was here to get to know Paul’s friends, too. Plus the guy had put himself out there with her last night and she’d stomped him flat, why would he continue to show interest?

And why couldn’t she stop wanting him to?

Greedy Addie, wanting her hunk and to eat him, too.

She giggled at her own thought and nearly spit out the sip of punch she’d just taken. The group was assembled after quick-as-possible showers to save the water supply, enjoying a predinner drink or two.

The group minus Paul. Paul was not on the island because Paul had gone to the mainland to pick up Kevin.

Eek!

Addie was as light as the champagne, as bubbly as the…champagne, as fizzy as the…um, well…champagne. And clearly not big on similes.

Paul had been gone over an hour, which meant any minute he’d be back. Addie had come down by the cliff here, hoping to catch the first glance of Lucky’s approach, so she would know exactly when to start freaking out.

Or she could get a head start and do it now.