Twila's Tempest Page 9

  She lifted a shoulder and grinned. “Okay, shoot.”

  “Back of the boat?”

  “Stern and it’s a ship not a boat.”

  “Why?”

  She rolled her eyes upward. “A ship can carry a boat, but a boat can’t carry a ship.”

  He nodded grinning at her. “Front of the ship?”

  “Bow.”

  “Left and right sides?”

  “Port and Starboard,” she shot back.

  “What are you sitting in?”

  “Your chair.”

  He broke out laughing. “Literally, yes, but…”

  “The bridge.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “In the galley, and it smells amazing.”

  Taut cheeks revealed his perfect smile and his eyes glinted at her. He kept staring at her, only inches separating them, and then his smile slowly eased and his gaze deepened.

  “Ah, you’re catching on very quickly,” he said, backing away and offering her a hand out of the chair.

  She didn’t want any tension between them. “Aye, Captain, I’ll be a salty lad in no time.”

  A deflated laugh erupted from him, and he rubbed the back of his neck while peering at her from beneath that bang of his. “Don’t think I could ever confuse you with a lad. Come on.”

  When they were back on the main deck, she asked, “Do you take her out very much?”

  “I did in the beginning, to show potential customers what type of workmanship they could expect.”

  “Do you stay overnight?” She looked around and wondered if the lush living room couches pulled out into beds.

  “Yes.” He led her down a set of stairs to a lower deck. A narrow hallway with four doors on either side held comfortable bedrooms. When they reached the end it wasn’t hard to figure out where Heather had gone because her loud weeping came from the last room.

  “Guess we’ll do this later.”

  “Drake, you need to talk to her.”

  He nodded and released a heavy breath. “I know that.”

  She backed away. “I’m going to go help your mom. The Rebecca is beautiful by the way. Thank you for the tour.”

  He watched her take another careful step backwards and then bowed his head. “You’re welcome.”

  She waved good-bye, wanting to make a quick getaway.

  “Twila?” With one foot on the stair leading to the upper deck, she twisted to look at him. “Although Mom would love to adopt you, there’s no way I see you as a little sister.” The intensity of his stare held her hostage. “I don’t know what that makes me look like in your eyes, but I hope it’s not bad.”

  She shook her head then shrugged. “I already have an older brother, so I guess that makes us friends.” And she escaped up the steps, taking them two at a time.

  She didn’t want to think past what would happen when Drake closed the door with him on the inside. They would do what all couples did after a spat. They’d both emerge together. Heather would be placated and Drake…what would Drake be? The more she knew of the man, she realized his hard work, education and intelligence had afforded him some kind of success. Heather had mentioned that he was wealthy, although Twila couldn’t tell. He didn’t act it, or flaunt it. Twila touched the dark, polished wood paneling of the wall as she took the stairs leading to the upper deck. She flinched when she heard the door to his bedroom close, and noted that Heather’s crying stopped.

  Chapter Nine

  Drake closed the door, but kept his back to it. Heather sat on his bed, her knees bent with her face in her hands. Slowly, and with dramatic timing, she raised her head.

  “Why are you still standing there?” Heather asked.

  Big crocodile tears streamed down her face. He should feel something, but he didn’t. At least nothing past wanting to make her stop, gather herself together and come join his parents and Twila for dinner. Every day the ravine widened between them. Sex had kept his interest, but not anymore. He couldn’t explain it, other than what Heather wanted out of life was in complete contrast to someone like Twila. The difference was glaring and too obvious to ignore as to which one he respected more.

  A woman like Heather had a following as an alpha female. She loved being the center of attention, and if she didn’t have it, she fought for it. Twila hadn’t been honest with him, she’d held back when he asked her what Heather had said to her at the party, he could well imagine. Manipulation and intimidation didn’t sit well with him, regardless of the reason.

  During the last couple nights, he’d contemplated Heather as a life partner. She would stand like a queen beside the man she married, and she wanted him. He didn’t feel like a king. Every stride he’d made to keep the business growing was by being hands on. He’d struggled, but he didn’t quit. Something he’d learned being a Marine.

  “Baby, what’s happening to us?” Heather said, patting her cheeks dry with the back of her hand. “Please.” She stretched her long slender arm out, beckoning him.

  He joined her and sat down, extending his arm over her legs and planting his palm on the bed.

  “I know there’s pressure on you. I don’t want to add more.” Her breath stuttered. “I want to help you, Drake, but you’re pushing me away.”

  With a calming hand he palmed her calf. “Heather, you want more, and I don’t have the time to give it.”

  “I understand that.” She shimmied down the bed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m busy too, but when we’re together I want to make every moment count.”

  She nuzzled his ear and kissed his neck. The one place he’d never had sex with a woman was in the bed they were sitting on. He’d never brought Heather out on the boat without others, and it had always been day trips. To him, the Rebecca held a special place in his life. His first, and although created as a display of his craftsmanship, he couldn’t ignore his possessiveness. Heather’s hand slid across his chest and down his abs to settle on his zipper.

  “Baby, you need to unwind.”

  The Rebecca was an extension of who he really was and what he was capable of. He’d never put a heck of a lot of time thinking of himself being with one woman, but he’d left this bed unchristened for a reason. The only woman he’d make love to in this bed would be the woman he’d share the rest of his life with.

  “We have guests, Heather.”

  She exhaled a deep breath, removed her hand and nodded. “I wouldn’t be a very good hostess if I didn’t act like one, would I?”

  He didn’t expect her to, but saying it out loud would start a fight and more questions and more tears. “Are you going to join us?”

  “Of course I am.”

  He rose.

  “Drake?”

  He knew the next words coming out of her mouth as sure as he knew his own name. She’d dropped tidbits all over the place, he just wasn’t following. “Come on, let’s join everyone.”

  “I love you.”

  Yup, there they were.

  “I love the man that you are. How hard you work.”

  Gazing at him was the real Heather, not the model or the little girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

  “I need you in my life because everything else is all pomp and plastic. I’m not kidding myself, but it’s the groove I cut for my existence. When I’m with you, I don’t have to pretend or show off. I know it’s the image I portray, but it’s tiring.”

  He sat down again and listened. She forked her fingers through his.

  “I kept telling myself that I could keep our relationship sexual because that’s all you seemed to want, but I fell in love with you.”

  Heather’s eyes glistened with tears and glinted with hope that he would open up to her. Say the same thing. Live happily ever after. What did he expect? The extension of sex could flower into something more and it had for Heather. He looked deeper, but the truth was he was relieved every time they went their separate ways. “I don’t want to hurt you, Heather, but I’m not going to lie and tell you I feel the s
ame way. It wouldn’t do either of us any good. Maybe it’s because my head is in my business all the time.”

  She clung onto his reasoning with all ten fingernails. “I know it is, but give us a chance. Give yourself a chance. We haven’t had any alone time, and a couple needs that.”

  If he’d wanted time with Heather, he’d have made time, but instead he’d spent a week trying to catch glimpses of Twila around the park. Heather’s threat had sent Twila into hiding and that really bothered him.

  “Why don’t we escape and go on a quick vacation. Down to the Caribbean or to the Bahamas? We can borrow daddy’s jet.”

  “I’m extending my stay. My folks don’t have a lot of time left, and I was away for too many years in the Marines. My brother is coming for a visit, and I haven’t seen him for a helluva long time.”

  “I understand,” she said tightly, slipping off the bed and assuming her statuesque pose.

  She didn’t, if she did, Heather would be swimming back to the marina. Yes, he wanted to see his bro and spend more time with the folks, but it wasn’t the primary reason he was staying. He had a mission, the first one since he’d left the Marines. Somehow he was going to convince Twila to get back on her feet, move past her grief that he could almost taste when he was with her, and see her make steps toward opening up a business again. Whether she wanted his help or not, she was going to get it. Someone needed to be her guardian angel because she was everyone else’s. “I’ll see you up top.” Leaving Heather to spend the next thirty minutes in front of the mirror, like she always did.

  * * * *

  It had rained last night, freshening the air. Twila took a long, happy gulp of her morning coffee and stared up at the aqua sky. The cruise hadn’t been half bad. Even when Heather reappeared, she seemed less demanding. ‘Course, Heather pretended she wasn’t sitting there, except when she reached for Drake’s hand, and then glared at her for a moment. Twila was content to listen, but Drake dragged her into the conversation, asking about her family. Heather bit her tongue and looked off into the distance when she spoke. When they’d returned to the marina things went a little sideways. Heather expected Drake to come with her. When he refused, she stomped away like a spoiled child.

  Twila sighed with relief. Today, she’d spend a little time digging in the dirt out front before she made her rounds. Mrs. Abernathy had knee surgery recently and needed help for a week or so until she recovered, which meant a lot of short notice trips to her trailer.

  Around noon Mrs. McCoy called out to her while passing by. “Twila, the pharmacy called. Would it be too much of an imposition to ask if you could pick up my prescription?”

  “I have to go into town. I can pick it up for you.” She jogged over and waited while Mrs. McCoy retrieved some money.

  Handing her the bills, she said, “Don’t forget a sweater. It’s a little nippy today.”

  Twila jerked with a thought. Sweater? Oh gosh, her sweater. She’d forgotten it on the Rebecca, and it was her mother’s. She wore it all the time because it still smelled like her mom. “I’ll do that.” She quickly made her way over to Becka’s, relieved to see Drake’s car wasn’t there.

  Gordon opened the door. “Hi, Twila.”

  “Gordon, I forgot my sweater on the Rebecca last night. I really need it back.”

  “What’s the matter, dear?” Becka said joining them.

  “I forgot Mom’s sweater on the ship. Do you think it would be all right for me to get it?”

  “Of course, dear. Do you know where you left it?”

  “I think it’s in the galley.”

  Becka beamed with a grin and she nudged Gordon. “See, Drake is rubbing off on her already.”

  She laughed. Drake had in fact managed to impart a lot of nautical terms on her while they took the cruise last night.

  “Are you going there now?” Becka asked.

  “I think I will. I have to get a few things in town.”

  * * * *

  Becka drummed her fingers on the kitchen counter. She shouldn’t interfere, but wasn’t it her God-given right to make sure her sons were happy? Drake was definitely not happy with Heather. The woman clung to him like a bad virus. Sex did not make a marriage. It didn’t hurt, but she bet that’s all Heather had to offer.

  Drake was a grown man and could make his own decisions, but she prayed every night his choice would be Twila. If only they had some time away from the medaling ministrations of one Heather DeCourcy.

  “What’s got you all riled up, girl?” Gordon muttered as he wandered into the kitchen.

  “Nothing.” She plucked the newspaper from the counter and swatted it against his chest. “Here.”

  Gordon scratched his ear. “Garburator plugged again? I’ll get my tool kit.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m worried about our son.”

  “Which one?” he asked, thick like most men to what was happening around them.

  She whirled on him. “Who do you think, Gordon? Drake!”

  “Old girl, you worry too much. It’s not good for your health. He’s fine.”

  “No, he’s not. He likes Twila. I know it. And I can also see Twila is smitten with him, even though she tries to deny it.” She paced the kitchen.

  Gordon shrugged. “So what’s the problem? Twila probably doesn’t want her eyes scratched out. She’s a smart girl.”

  “Baah, just get your beer and go.”

  Instead of leaving, Gordon planted the paper on the counter and wrapped his arms around her. “My beautiful Rebecca. Our son will find his way. He’s done pretty well so far.”

  “But what if he falls in love with that horrible woman?”

  “Sticking your nose into our son’s love life won’t end well. Trust him.” He gave her a squeeze. “Although, he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s looking into the future, and at thirty-five he’s considering what the next step will be. I was with him when he first set eyes on Twila. She hit him like a freight train. I remember when I first saw you, and I recognized the look. Our boy loves us, but he’s not hanging around here because of us.”

  “But Heather dangles her family’s money and contacts in front of him. What if he falls for it? He’ll be so unhappy with her.”

  “Beck, we have watched our sons make their mistakes, but that’s not one Drake would ever make. He doesn’t need Heather’s money or her family. He’s set, and if I were a bettin’ man, I’d say that in the end he’ll see that Twila is the girl for him. Let things happen naturally.”

  She blew out a frustrated breath. “I trust our boy, but maybe I should talk to Twila again.”

  “And what would you hope to gain from that, Mother? If love is going to bud between them, it has to be nurtured by them, not you.”

  She grinned at her husband. “You’ve always known how to pull my reins back, haven’t you?” She kissed him and patted his chest.

  “I hope my son finds a woman as wonderful as his mother. If it’s Twila, I’d be delighted, but if it’s not, we have to respect his wishes.”

  “Drake, is that you?” she called out, hearing the front door open. She quickly looked around and saw her purse on the counter. “Maybe, but a helping hand doesn’t hurt.” She snatched it up, opened the dishwasher and threw it inside, snapping the door closed as Drake rounded the corner.

  “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”

  “Oh, honey. I think I left my purse on the Rebecca last night. Don’t know where my head is these days. Forgetful, I guess. Would you mind being a dear and getting it. Now.”

  Her oldest son, hovered by the entryway. “Now? As in right now?” Drake scanned a look at his father. “You guys okay?”

  She waved a hand. “I, ah, have my blood pressure pills in there. I really should take them.”

  His eyes narrowed at her. “I could have sworn you had your purse with you last night. Are you sure?”

  “My memory isn’t that bad,” she said.

  “I think it is,” Gordon added, and she nudged him.

  Go
rdon nudged her back. “Need to get into the dishwasher, dear.”

  “Get a glass out of the cupboard,” she said, pasting a ‘shut the hell up’ look that all husbands are trained to obey. He had the gall to give her a wink.

  Drake surveyed them as if he smelled something fishy but said, “I’ll go get it. Anything else you need?”

  “No. Thanks, dear. No hurry.”

  * * * *

  Drake jumped in the car and headed out. At the entrance his cell beeped.

  Dinner tonight?

  Ignoring Heather’s text would sprout more, and he pulled to the side of the road.

  Got plans. Busy.

  I luv you.

  He left that one alone. She’d sent at least a couple dozen today. From sweet to sharp, she had to be wearing out her fingers. Truth was he didn’t give a shit. He was still steamed she’d threatened Twila. Heather didn’t understand subtle hints, and his cell was sounding off with a call.

  “Hi, baby,” she said when he connected.

  “Hey.”

  “What’s got you so busy that you can’t spend time with your favorite lady?” Her voice was all cute and gentle teasing. “I was thinking I could show off my skills in the kitchen instead of us eating out.”

  Some guys didn’t have a stop sign when it came to lying to women, but he did. Honesty ruled the day. All morning he’d been thinking about how he could ask Twila out for dinner and then worrying about the fact that she’d say no. They’d talk about their businesses. They’d talk about each other, they’d just talk. That’s it. She said they could be friends, and that’s what he wanted too. “I’m going to try to talk Twila into starting a business up again.”

  “What?” Heather screeched in his ear, and he yanked the phone away. “What the fuck, Drake?” All the cute sucked into a vacuum of angry.

  He took a breath.

  “She’s fucking using you, Drake. She’s playing a game and sucking you in, can’t you see that? She’s using your mom and dad and because you have a big heart, she’s making you think you owe her.”

  “That’s not Twila. Instead of hating her, you should get to know her. That woman cares for the people in this park. She needs a hand, and I’m willing to give it to her.”