Twila's Tempest Page 11

  “Steering a course,” she repeated. “Is that dinner I smell?”

  “Hungry?”

  She nodded. “Voracious, actually.”

  “The sea air does that to me too. Hope you like my cooking. With a mother who ran a restaurant, I’d be exiled from the family if I didn’t pick something up.”

  He took control of the wheel, but didn’t let her move aside as he altered course for a bay. One other vessel sat idle, her anchor line leading into the water. Large palms stretching toward the heavens fought for space in a thick mass. No structures marred the beach. Drake reduced speed and then grasped the throttle, commanding the vessel to stop. With a few more movements, she heard a splash as he let go the anchor, and then went astern setting it in the seabed, explaining his actions.

  He guided her to the aft deck where a teak table set with dinner, white china and sparkling wine glasses waited for them. He pulled the chair out for her. “Miss Carlisle, please dine with me.”

  “Thank you.” Drake had been right. The tension that kept her company most hours of the day dissolved. She darted a look at him, and he replied with a wide smile as if he could read her emotions. They ate a gloriously good meal he’d prepared with blackened fish and a fresh salad. “This is delicious.” He refilled her wine glass and nodded his thanks, but he didn’t take his eyes off her, and that made her a little uncomfortable, anxious energy swaying inside her. She cleared her throat. “The Rebecca is your first vessel, right?”

  “The prototype.”

  She sipped on her wine. “I like that you named it after Becka.”

  “Believe me, she did too.”

  “I really like your mom. She has so many wonderful stories.”

  Drake tore the loaf of bread in half that they hadn’t eaten last night and placed a piece on her plate. “She does. I know it’s been a hard transition for her to retire. She was adored by a lot of people. She ran the restaurant on Broadway like a drill sergeant, but she garnered the respect of a lot of clientele, who ended up as friends.”

  “Being so close to the premiere theatres was a good plan too.”

  “Sure was.” Finishing his meal, he sat back comfortably in his chair. The wind played with his dirty blond locks and his green gaze hovered on her. “I think Mom’s afraid you’re going to leave. She doesn’t want to hold you back, but she’s not going to let go either.”

  Twila couldn’t see the other vessel. Drake had made sure to give privacy and distance when he’d anchored in the bay. “I feel like I need to make a decision, I just don’t know what it is.”

  A couple of pelicans caught the bands of air above them, their enormous wing spans steering their large bodies through the sky. They circled above once and then with a strong sweep of feathers, pushed onward.

  “You had a business at one time. Why not another? If you need help starting, I’ll help.” He paused. “Don’t get mad at me. I’m offering because I know you’re good at what you do, and people need your services.”

  Twila finished her meal and considered his offer, while pushing her plate aside. “Thank you, Drake, that’s kind, but if I do start a business again it will be all me, just like last time.”

  He grinned. “I couldn’t get through a single conversation without hearing about Saint Twila when I called to check on the folks.”

  She blushed with the compliment.

  He plucked their wine glasses from the table and extended his other hand to join him. “Turns out Mom has good instincts.”

  She grasped his hand as if in a trance, and he drew her to the wide cushioned couch. Sitting down beside her, he offered her back her glass and tipped his against it, his gaze fluttering across her face.

  Twila’s heart went into a full gallop with the intensity of his possessive expression. “This is beautiful, but shouldn’t we be getting back? You’re not here for very long and you need time with your parents. They miss you. Drake and Layton Addison, the two sons who walk on water, don’t you know.”

  Drake slowly shook his head. “I’m exactly where I need to be. Unless you have a date you’re going to be late for.”

  The sun sank into the horizon, leaving the gate open for night to march in and envelope the landscape. She needed more wine to slow the heavy thumps of her heart. Instead, Drake reached for her glass and set it on the table. She leaped into another question. “So, tell me about your company. Becka said you started from scratch?”

  He read her unease and shifted, but instead of moving away he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and stretched a long, muscular leg onto the top of the coffee table. She remembered how those legs looked pumping like a machine as he ran down the road, his body covered in sweat. When he’d been working in the front yard his muscles moved under his skin like an animal in the prime of its life.

  “Starting your own business isn’t easy as you know. I joined the Marines and did two tours in the Middle East, but my interests lay in math, science and physics. My captain suggested I get a degree from the USNA United States Naval Academy. I served four more years on aircraft carriers, eventually I wanted to get my Masters. I didn’t sign up again, and attended the marine architect program in TU Delft in the Netherlands.”

  She knew this already. She knew so much about this man from his mother, who could never stop talking about her son. There was no prouder mother on the planet. “What made you want that?”

  “Saw I could achieve more, but mostly I had to challenge myself, and creating a business was about the biggest risk I could take. Especially, since boat builders practically rub shoulders down here, and seventy percent of new start-ups fold in two years.”

  She listened, but her gaze was glued to his features. How expressive and bold his eyes were. How his firm lips and strong chin screamed masculinity. The aching draw to touch his face was hard to resist. “It was meant to be,” she said wistfully.

  “I didn’t do it alone. I did have a few backers who took a chance on me, but mostly buddies from the Marines, and the rest is hard work and history.”

  “Hard work. Long hours. It’s the only way to build a business from nothing.” Hers had just started to grow when her parents failing health grounded her. There was no choice, they came first. A gentle graze of his finger against her cheek pulled her from her thoughts.

  “Hey, do you remember making your first profitable check?”

  She laughed. “I do, I remember thinking I could actually buy a steak, and believe me I’d been living on tuna fish for a while. I never eat the stuff now.”

  He burst out laughing. “Oh, God, yeah.” He sighed. “I lived in the tin shed which doubled as my office when I scratched together enough to buy the property where my work site is now. I drank a helluva lot of coffee and ate a lot of peanut butter.”

  “I’ll remember to stay away from the PB&J if I make you dinner.”

  They both cracked up laughing, but then his smile dissolved in a reflective gaze. “I think I’d really like that.”

  “A PB&J?” she teased.

  “No—if you made me dinner.”

  She shrugged. “I owe you one, now,” she said, motioning a shoulder toward the table.

  His hand slid over hers. “So, when are you going to hang a shingle up again?” he asked. “This part of Florida needs someone with your skills, and you can’t be giving them away forever,” He paused, and then his voice lowered to a sexy timbre. “You’re easy to talk to. The old folks trust you. There’s not enough honest people out there who do what you do because they actually care.”

  The soothing effect of the wine and the intense heat in his gaze made her heart thud even louder. “I like my hours. Although my days might be long, I’ve got freedom.”

  “Being free has its benefits, but you’re not. At least not at the park,” he said quietly. “I wish you were.”

  His head dipped a little closer and the strong pull to go crazy on him sent a barrage of lust against her better judgement. Drake wasn’t the man she hoped he was. His sexual energy and c
onfidence made her impetuous and impatient. Where was the egomaniac she expected, hoped for?

  His thumb traced her cheek. “Earlier, you asked me what I need.”

  She swallowed heavily. “You said you wanted to be my friend.”

  He shook his head slowly. “I want you.”

  His lips brushed over hers and the world dropped out from beneath her. The only person who could stop her fall pressed his mouth hungrily against hers, tempting her to dance with his tongue. A moan rumbled in his throat and his arms circled her tightly. Sweet Jesus, did he ever know how to kiss. His mouth moved with sensual confidence and his tongue traced a delicate line following the curve of her bottom lip. He receded after nibbling his way to the outer edge.

  “Honorable intentions?” she said, when he let her breathe.

  “They’re intact, barely,” he murmured on her lips. “Maybe.” The stubble on his jaw grazed her cheek, and he let out a hiss of breath. “Or not,” and his fingers threaded through her hair before he possessed her mouth and her soul tilted on its axis.

  * * * *

  Drake couldn’t stop the rush of desire for the soft creature in his arms. He told her he had patience. Biggest fib he’d ever made since he was eight and swiped some money from his mom’s purse. That had been a huge mistake, but this wasn’t.

  His hands wandered to her waist and slipped beneath her shirt seeking warm skin. His erection pushed so hard at his jeans it ached. He couldn’t think through the blistering heat taking control, and he nipped his way down her neck. Her silky, soft skin warmed his hands. She shivered with the little bites he tasted at the pulse in her neck.

  “Drake?” Twila’s small hands gently wrapped around his jaw.

  He blinked his delirium away, but he needed one more kiss before she told him to back off, and he knew she would. Tangling his fingers in her curls, he took her mouth and seared her full lips with his. He wanted her so badly. Everything about Twila felt different. He honestly did want her friendship, her trust, and he wanted to know everything about her.

  Twila’s eyes were slow to open and he smiled at that. “Mrs. McCoy needs her medication.”

  “Are you sure that’s the reason?” He could hear the raspy desire in his voice. Couldn’t hide it. Didn’t want to hide it.

  “Yes, and we need to stop.”

  He leaned his forehead against hers not ready to back away. “Don’t say her name.”

  He didn’t want to stop touching her lips, feasting on her mouth. A gentle press against his chest told him he had to pull back on his mounting desire. “Will you promise to go out with me again?” Sitting so close to her, he saw all the beautiful colors that swirled in her eyes. The wind had brushed a beautiful rouge onto her cheeks or maybe he had done that.

  She stilled and held her breath. “It’s not a date, it’s…it’s education,” she stuttered. “About all things nautical.”

  It occurred to him he could eat this woman up and never be filled with enough of her to make him content. “More than that.” He brushed his mouth against hers and followed the shape of her bottom lip with his tongue again. “I want more than that.”

  She tried to stop a smile, but he joined her, enamored by the small creases around her eyes and the deepening blush of her cheeks. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d kissed a woman and didn’t end up between her legs, but that’s not what he wanted with Twila. That moment would come, and it would be amazing.

  “Are you going to stop kissing me?” She laughed softly, inching away from him.

  “Don’t really want to, but I guess if you insist…” He finally sat up straight and drew her by the hand to a sitting position. “Ya want to have some fun with dear old mom?”

  She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we owe her one. She set both of us up. Time for some pay back.”

  Twila’s mouth gaped open. “Drake, that’s terrible.”

  “She’s used to it. Believe me; she gives it as good as she gets.” He broke out laughing. Twila’s smile caused a deep burn in his chest. He loved it, and he could thank his mom later, but for now, she was going to pay the piper.

  “Nothing too mean, but I’ll play along.”

  “Come on, let’s get back. I’ll explain on the way.”

  Drake walked into the trailer by his lonesome and found his parents sitting on the deck, their usual evening locale. “Hey, Mom. I looked high and low, but I couldn’t find your purse.”

  His mother sat up in her seat. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I found it. I’m sorry for sending you on a wild goose chase, darling.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, getting ready to deploy his scheme. “So what are you folks up to tonight?”

  “Umm, well.”

  His mother panned a look at his dad, and he knew she was trying to work out some way to ask about Twila. Yup, she was a bug stuck in the web.

  “Dear, I ah, did you see Twila by any chance?”

  “Twila?” he asked, nonchalantly sitting down with them. “Funny you should mention that. I found a sweater draped over the side of the Rebecca. I thought it was odd. Didn’t look like it was yours though.”

  His mother sprung up straight as a board. “What do you mean draped over the side?”

  He shrugged. “I mean it was hanging over the side. Didn’t pay that much attention, just grabbed it and put it in the cabin.” His mom quickly picked up her phone.

  “There’s no answer,” she exclaimed.

  He pasted an inquisitive expression on his face.

  “Twila’s not answering her phone. She always answers.”

  His mother was jumping to extremes as she always did.

  “Maybe she turned in early.”

  “She went to the Rebecca hours ago. Where have you been anyway?”

  “I did a little work on the engines while I was there. Why did she go to the Rebecca?”

  “Oh, God, you don’t think something happened?”

  He raised his brows. “As in what?”

  “Drake, Twila left her mother’s sweater on the ship last night. I told her she could go get it. When you came home I…I wanted you two to have some time to get to know each other so I made up the excuse I’d left my purse on the boat. What if she fell in?” She covered her face with her hands. “She could have tripped.”

  He didn’t want his mother having a heart attack, but she was well on her way to cranking up her blood pressure. “You know what old girl; you shouldn’t be butting into our love life.”

  “What?” Her hands flopped to the table.

  His Dad was already grinning because he saw Twila sneaking up the stairs of the deck.

  “I have to find, Twila.” She jumped up and turned. Twila stood right behind her and gave her a raised eyebrow and a little wave.

  “Back from Davy Jones Locker, Becka.”

  “Oh.” A gush of wind flew from his mother’s mouth as she clutched her chest. And then she stilled. “Wait a minute.”

  He and Twila burst out laughing. He reached out his hand and Twila took it as he guided her into the chair beside him. When she sat, he gave his mom a raised brow and placed an arm across the back of Twila’s chair and crossed his ankle over his thigh. The moment was perfect even though he was a little confused at how incredible he felt when Twila sat beside him as if he’d grown to twice his size.

  “You two nearly scared me to death,” she shouted.

  “It was his idea. Don’t blame me,” Twila said, laughing at the same time.

  Drake raised his hand and Twila high-fived him. “Volley, set and match, sweetheart.” He chuckled at his mother’s expression. That’s right old girl, he thought to himself. She is a sweetheart and it was easy to say.

  “You’re both terrible children,” she said, and then stilled again taking a look at each of them. “But I love you both.”

  His dad gave him a wink. “Sit down, old girl, before you fall down. I’ll get us a round of drinks.”

  As the stars shone overhead
, his mom and dad shared stories about their family with Twila. They laughed and kidded each other. A couple times when Twila shared a few stories of her own about her brother and her, his hand caressed her shoulder. The overwhelming urge to touch her pulled like an obsession more than a desire. His mother didn’t miss a thing, the happy glint in her eyes obvious.

  “Hello, where is everyone?” Heather called out from inside the trailer.

  The click of Heather’s high heels on the wood floor approached like a fog bank rolling onto shore and blocking out the warmth of the sun. The table silenced, but worst of all Twila’s radiance dimmed.

  “Hey, I found you all. Hi, baby,” Heather said, appearing at the patio doors. She hurriedly crossed the deck and draped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him a few times. Without a second thought, she settled in his lap. “Baby, don’t forget we have Kat and Christopher’s wedding tomorrow.” She totally ignored Twila and looked over at his mother. “It’s going to be huge. The wealthiest families are going to be there. Drake can make so many contacts for the business. I’ve already been dropping hints, and you,” she said, tapping his chin with her slender finger and long polished nail, “have a lot of people to talk to tomorrow.”

  No one at the table said a word. Heather’s penciled brow quirked. “I hope I didn’t interrupt something? I was just so excited, and I thought I’d come and get you, and take you home with me,” she purred.

  He offered a polite half-smile and prompted her to get up. More like she dropped by to make sure he was here. “Bye, Becka, Gordon, it’s always a pleasure.” She sauntered ahead of him, sure that he would follow her.

  Twila got up, but didn’t look at him. She bit her lip for a second. When she turned her gaze to him, she floored him by saying. “Good luck at the wedding.”

  He shook his head, his insides chilling to sub-zero. She was saying something more than he needed to take care of business. He could read it in her eyes. The bubble they’d built together this afternoon, burst. He’d been happy, really happy, and now…

  She nodded slowly at him. “Yes, Drake. I’ll be cheering you on from the sidelines.”

  For once his parents didn’t butt in.