Читать книгу About That Kiss - Cindy Miles - Страница 12

CHAPTER THREE

THERE WAS A certain stillness to the early morning that Sean rather liked. Before the sun rose, when the world was still quiet, or before the clouds began shifting from ominous gray and white to shades of orange and purple as they did when the sun tried to push its way through. A new day. For a long, long time, Sean believed hope came with each new day. She wished she believed it now.

This morning, Willa still slept; Sean had awakened long ago, when the chug of a boat heading downriver had drifted through her partially opened bedroom window. It was strangely peaceful, that lonesome noise. Ghostly, in a way. As if she floated in some dream world. A place where, maybe, she’d always existed and danger didn’t. It even felt somewhat safe. Normal. Rather, what she perceived normal to be. Family. Neighborly neighbors hand-delivering scrumptious cheddar biscuits.

And maybe it was safe. Normal. Slightly. Perhaps.

Not that she’d let her guard down for one solid second.

The captain of the Tiger Lily probably saw her as a grade-A nut job. Or at the very least, a snob. She’d purposely kept her head down last night as Nathan and his father had passed by on the river. Part of that was because her daughter had convinced her that the dolphins would be friendlier if they thought the two of them were fairies instead of regular people, so Sean had once again donned a pair of wings, too.

Willa, of course, had made a big production of calling out to Captain Nathan. Sean had allowed it. But she wouldn’t fall into the habit of becoming too friendly with the green-eyed shrimp boat sailor. Having as little contact as possible made the transition of leaving a little easier. It wasn’t easy, though, because of Willa’s exuberance and propensity to talk to everyone she encountered. Getting to know people meant those very people would want to know more about Sean and Willa. That was where things got tricky for Sean. Parts of her life simply defied explanation, and yet she loathed lying. And the older Willa became, the more observant she was—which made it more challenging for Sean to tell people something about her and Willa that wasn’t precisely accurate. Truly, it was much, much easier to avoid interactions with locals altogether.

Yet, even the very innocent interactions with Nathan Malone had made Sean pause. Already, the sound of his trawler made her heart quicken. She imagined him at the wheel, those steely hands gripping it with ease and confidence. A sure stare out over the sea, unafraid. Fearless.

More intimate thoughts invaded her, somewhat unwillingly. The way she felt heat rise to her cheeks at his voice, or the very thought of that intense, curious stare. She admitted only to herself that he affected her. She tried to banish that unwanted feeling. It’d do no good to confess. To him or anybody. She and Willa would be gone at the close of summer.

She couldn’t help where her thoughts wandered, though. And after Willa went to bed, or in the early mornings when Sean was alone, she pondered it. Thought about...before. Before they had to run. Before they had to hide. When she had simply been...herself. What she had looked like. Who she’d been. She sought her brain’s memory vault; dug through events, pictures, until she’d found a few. Long blond hair. Hazel eyes that most folks said smiled all on their own. It seemed surreal now, that time in her life. Before Houston. Like a dream that had occurred—the events never truly had happened. Yet, they had. And it seemed that years separated that Sean from the Sean she was now.

So back to the question—whom did Nathan see? She most definitely wasn’t a snob. And, for pride’s sake, she hoped she didn’t seem like a nut job. In all truth, she couldn’t be sure what she was anymore. She’d been running for so long; somewhere along the back roads, mom-and-pop diners and one-horse towns between Kansas and Tennessee, up to Boston and down to South Carolina, she’d lost herself. She knew it.

And couldn’t do a single thing about it.

Sean sat on the back porch steps facing the dock and river, with acres of marsh on each side. It moved like wheat, she thought, when a breeze caught it just right, and the willowy little stalks all shifted and swayed in sync with the cicadas and crickets’ song. Salt infiltrated her lungs with each breath; in this short time she’d grown to actually like the tangy taste it left on her tongue. She took a sip of the coffee while her mind continued to be rebellious...

Those stormy green eyes belonging to Nathan Malone kept intruding. She’d tried not to notice, but he’d trapped her with that curious gaze more than once. It’d been unavoidable.

And the easy, amused smile he had for Willa? Sean had noticed that, too. The look he’d given Willa had come fast, easy. Natural. Sean couldn’t help but find Nathan’s indulgence in Willa’s buoyancy and constant inquisitiveness more than charming. Almost...bewitching. He’d taken to Willa almost immediately, and she with him.

But the look Nathan had for Sean herself? That was somewhat guarded. Curious. Wary.

She’d also noticed how the sun had turned his hair so many shades of blond, and that even the darker colors were lightened by hours of being on the sea. His skin had bronzed—so different from her own pale skin and dark hair. The sun felt good, though. Perhaps she’d end up with a little tan after all.

“Mama?”

Sean turned to see a sleepy-eyed Willa standing in the doorway, clutching the stuffed whale Sean had bought for her in Newport News when her daughter had begged to stop at some mariners’ museum. “Good morning, baby,” Sean said, and held out her arms for her daughter.

Willa padded over and sat beside her, snuggling against Sean’s side. Sean reveled in the warmth of Willa’s small body, the clean scent of her hair, despite it twisting and sticking up every which way. She hugged Willa tightly and kissed her cheek. “What are you doing up so early?”

Willa didn’t say anything; she merely shrugged and snuggled closer. The only time of day anyone could catch Willa Jane Jacobs quiet was early in the morning. Still sleep-fogged and groggy, she was a shrugger and a nodder. At least until 8:00 a.m.

“Can we go down by the river and watch Captain Nathan go by in his pirate ship?” Willa mumbled into Sean’s shoulder.

“Well, I think they’ve already headed out this morning,” Sean answered.

“Can we be there when they come home?”

Sean pushed down that familiar panic of her daughter growing too fond of, well, anyone. The agony of seeing the confusion and hurt in Willa’s big blue eyes when they had to pack up and leave. Leave people she’d grown fond of? Willa’s reaction killed Sean every time. “Why, baby?”

Another shrug. “He’s nice. And I like his pirate beard. I like to wave at him is all.” She peeked up then, her wide eyes staring up at Sean. “Don’t you?”

Sean smiled back. How could she not? “I do.”

“Well, then, Mama, let’s go so we don’t miss him. And you gotta be like me and wear your wings.”

Sean searched her baby girl’s face, so full of hope. Untouched by the ugliness and pain life could dish out. Sean would do anything to protect her daughter from that kind of pain. But already, Willa was getting into a dangerous habit of inserting Nathan Malone into their daily lives. A habit the little girl wasn’t even aware of. I’ll cave this time, but I’ll have to figure out a way to divert Willa’s attention to something other than the pirate next door.

Sean gave Willa a nod. “Okay, just this once. But we don’t want to become a bother to them. They’re working, you know.”

Willa cupped Sean’s cheeks with her little hands and stared into her eyes. “Mama, you’re so silly. They’re not working. They’re fishing!”

Sean’s heart melted at the feel of her daughter’s hands on her skin, at the twinkle in Willa’s eyes. “Okay, Willa Jane. They’re fishing.”

* * *

“LOOKS LIKE YOU got a fan club,” Owen said to Nathan as they guided the Tiger Lily up Morgan’s Creek and past the new tenants of the old homestead.

Nathan stared through his shades against the bright sunlight. Sure enough, there was little Willa, jumping up and down at the end of the dock, waving frantically as they passed by. And sitting beside her, feet in the water and those white sparkly wings strapped to her back, was Sean. Her wave was not as enthusiastic, but still, there was a wave. Nathan returned the gesture and gave the Tiger Lily’s horn two short blasts. Willa turned to her mom, moving excitedly, wings flapping, and waved some more. He couldn’t help but wonder what the little girl had said.

And what Sean had replied.

Something about her—both of them—got under his skin. Couldn’t shake either one. Just the slight interaction Nathan had had with Sean got to him in a way that surprised him—in a good way. She smelled great. Her hand had been soft in his upon their first shake. And her eyes seemed bottomless. She was a mystery. A tight-lipped, closed-off mystery. She didn’t seem to want much conversation. So why did that make him want to find out why she was so closed off? Why did he have the urge to make her smile? Instead, he retreated when she appeared to be uncomfortable in his presence. Hiding from the world, perhaps?

Much like himself.

Yet his thoughts landed on her over and over, and at the most annoying of times. Like after midnight, when he’d been about to drift off to sleep, bam. Sean would appear behind his eyelids. That little pixie face and dark, shorn hair and too-wide hazel eyes awakened him. Once awakened, other thoughts drifted in, like her reaction to him the night he’d jogged by the cemetery while she and Willa were catching fireflies. What was she so afraid of? He’d barely spoken to them, just a polite greeting. Then again, they were in a strange place, and he was a bearded jogger. Jep had said he looked like a crazed killer. Maybe Sean had thought the same?

Then there was Willa. Oozing more confidence than any five-year-old should have, she was quite the opposite of her mom. She seemed to claim the world as her own, unafraid. He liked the kid. He liked them both.

He didn’t like that he liked them, but there it was. Unavoidable.

Yet Sean Jacobs had made it somewhat clear that she didn’t want to be bothered. Not by him. Not by anyone.

The thought left him confused, torn between reality and his urges. So he pushed the dilemma behind the locked door where he kept those emotions and went back to living his uncomplicated days as best as he could.

* * *

FOR THE NEXT few days, Sean and Willa were at the end of their rickety dock, waiting for the Tiger Lily to pass.

Clearly Owen had told Jep about Sean and Willa regularly being on the dock to greet them because Jep took matters into his own nosy, busybody hands.

“Here,” Jep said, thrusting his old truck keys into Nathan’s hands.

Nathan looked at his grandfather. “What’re these for?”

Jep’s eyebrows clashed together into a formidable scowl. “Take my truck and drive over to those gals’ house and invite them over for supper.”

Nathan blinked. “When?”

“Tonight. I want to meet them.”

Nathan glanced at the clock on the wall—2:00 p.m. “Kind of a late notice, don’t you think?”

Jep’s frown deepened. “Of course it’s not. Now hurry up, will ya?” Jep turned and started shuffling pots and pans onto the stovetop. He threw one last glare over his shoulder. “Don’t come home without them, boy.”

“Jep, quit playing matchmaker, will ya?”

Jep scowled at Nathan. “Now, what makes you think I’m matchmakin’? I want to meet them, is all. Neighborly thing to do, so go get ’em.”

Nathan searched his father’s and his brother Matt’s faces, both sitting at the kitchen table. Both wore similar smirks. With a long sigh, Nathan headed out. “Yes, sir.”

Having just showered after finishing their shrimping for the day, Nathan went upstairs, pulled on a clean black T-shirt, a pair of well-worn khaki shorts and the cleaner of two pairs of Chucks then headed downstairs, out the door and straight to Jep’s truck.

During the drive, Nathan imagined every scenario that could possibly play out with his appearance at Sean’s. She wouldn’t want to come. She’d politely refuse. Willa might well beg to go. Sean would give her daughter what she probably thought would be a discreet stink-eye, but he’d see it. Of course, she might even refuse to answer his knock.

By the time Nathan pulled up in front of Sean’s house, he felt like a complete horse’s ass. How could he force her and Willa over to the Malones’ for food? Jep and his damned busybody self! With a deep breath, Nathan climbed out of the truck, the creaking metal and iron of the door echoing through the trees. Before he made it to the porch steps, the screen door flung open and Willa came running out.

“Hey, Captain Nathan, whatcha doin’ over here?” Willa asked. She wrapped her arm around the pillar of the porch, swinging her body on a pivoted foot. She wore a silver tiara with big purple gems embedded in it.

Sean joined her on the porch, her guarded expression holding surprise. She waited for Nathan to answer Willa.

“Well, my grandfather is kind of the king of our castle over there.” Nathan indicated upriver with a jerk of his thumb. “And what he says goes.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted his gaze to meet Sean’s. “You ladies are cordially invited to come over to our house for supper. Tonight.” He waited for Sean’s refusal.

“Mama, can we please?” Willa crooned.

“Well, I mean...” Sean’s hesitantly nervous smile and shy demeanor caught Nathan off guard. She gave her daughter a quick look. “What about our nightly walk?” she asked Willa. “Our search for the ultimate, superior pinecone to kick?”

Willa gave an exaggerated sigh, with her narrow shoulders rising then falling. “Mama. We can do that any ole time. There are one hundred pinecones in the yard. I wanna go see Captain Nathan’s grandpa king! Please?” She jumped up and down in place, making her wings flap as though she were trying to take off.

Sean’s gaze returned to Nathan’s, and he could plainly see she didn’t want to accept the invitation. He halfway thought of giving her an out, but he didn’t. He instead kept his mouth shut, waiting.

Then Sean sighed. “Okay, sure. Thank you. We, uh...cordially accept. Since your grandfather is king and all.”

“Yay!” Willa hollered.

Nathan blinked. He hadn’t expected Sean to agree, and now that she had...what was he going to do? It was bad enough how often he found her in his thoughts. Constantly. And that was with very little contact. But now? She would be in the cab of the truck. With him. And then at the house.

“What’s cordially mean anyway?” Willa asked Sean. Then she looked at him. “Is your grandpa really a king?”

Nathan chuckled, relieved that Willa’s chatter eased his apprehension. He wondered briefly if Sean could sense his unease. “You’ll have to see for yourself.” He looked at Sean. “I’ll drive you over. If that’s okay?”

“Oh.” Sean looked at her bare feet and cutoff jean shorts. “Uh, okay. Do you...want to come in and wait while we change?”

Willa didn’t give Nathan one solid second to decide. She bounded down the steps and grabbed his hand. “Come on inside, Captain Nathan,” she said, tugging his arm.

The little girl pulled him to a love seat and pushed him into it. “You can wait in here.” She threw him a grin then disappeared up the hallway. Sean hesitated.

“We’ll, uh...” she started to say. “We’ll only be a second.”

Then she, too, disappeared, but mother and daughter’s muffled conversation continued in another room.

Nathan rested his hands on his knees and looked around. Who are you, Sean Jacobs? Sparsely furnished, the old house reeked of spick-and-span clean. He should know; living in a house filled with present and past USCGs, where cleanliness and order ruled the roost, he recognized the tinge of lemon in the air. He wouldn’t say too clean, but...something along those lines.

A few unpacked boxes still remained, pushed against the walls. Through the archway, a kitchen faced the marsh and the dock beyond. Nothing hung on the walls. No pictures of family set on the one end table between the couch and love seat. The small, box-shaped wooden coffee table held a stack of hardback books, and Nathan leaned forward and lifted the first one. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The next, Treasure Island. Classics, and well used given the worn-out and dog-eared pages. On the inside flap, a neat cursive hand had written For my baby Willa with the wild imagination. Love, Mama.

It was, Nathan noted, the only personable item in the entire room.

He suddenly felt like an intruder. Someone...unwanted. A threat, maybe? Despite her acceptance of Jep’s dinner invitation, Sean’s hesitancy etched lines around her eyes, and those eyes flashed concern. Maybe after being around his loud, friendly family a time or two, she’d relax. Hell, maybe I will, too.

Just then, a thundering of footfall burst from the hallway, and Willa came to a screeching halt before him. The little girl wore what appeared to be an old-fashioned dress, a faded, old cream-colored thing with lace and ribbons. And the sparkly fairy wings, of course, accompanied by a pair of cowboy boots. He lifted one eyebrow.

“Nice dress,” he stated.

Willa’s grin exposed all of her straight little teeth. “My mama got it for me in a special shop that sells only really old things,” she informed Nathan. “That’s why it looks so yellow. And it cost ten whole dollars.”

Nathan cocked his head and inspected the aged material. “Hmm. That’s a pretty good deal. It looks at least a hundred years old.”

Willa’s grin widened. “You think so? Mama, did you hear that?” She turned as Sean walked into the room. “Captain Nathan says my fairy dress is at least a hundred years old!”

Nathan rose and his eyes rested on Sean’s. “That’s why it looks yellow,” he added, and threw her a grin. It felt awkward. Mainly because the look on her face spoke volumes. As in, she seriously didn’t want to be going with him to supper. A house full of strangers. He didn’t blame her, though. He imagined she’d rather stay out here, alone with her daughter, and kick around some ultimate pinecone. Whatever that meant.

Nathan then noticed that Sean had changed into a sleeveless sundress, white with little flowers all over it, falling to just above her knees and tied at the waist. On her feet she wore brown sandals. He realized how slender she was. And with her short dark hair and wide hazel eyes, she kind of looked like a pixie. A very pretty pixie. He’d keep that to himself, though.

“All right, well,” he said. “Let’s go meet the king.”