Wet: Part 2 (10 page)

They finished their meal and sat watching as Mitch and two new students, Rafael and Barret, flexed their muscles, trying to prove to each other which one of them had the biggest.

“Why do guys do that?” Rhees asked, bemused.

“I don’t know. Men are just stupid little boys sometimes,” Paul said, disgusted. “Guys refuse to grow up.”

He leaned over and gave her a swift kiss before getting up. He headed over to talk to the guys and their muscles, and a few seconds later, Paul joined them, flexing his own. He looked over at her and winked.

Chapter 9

“T
ell me something about yourself.”

Rhees noticed Paul sitting, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling, sadness in his eyes. She closed the cover of the extra e-reader Paul just happened to own and insisted she “borrow” so they could read together at night without having to turn on all the lights. She’d whipped up an easy meal and they’d enjoyed a quiet dinner, alone in her apartment. Now they lie in bed for the night, but not ready to fall asleep.

“I’m not quite six-three. I have blue eyes. I own a dive shop—”

She playfully smacked his arm.

“You
said
—”

“I know you prefer to listen, but I’m tired of reading and I do most of the talking. You’re probably tired of hearing me ramble on.”

“I never get tired of listening to you.”

She made a face that meant the same thing as rolling her eyes.

“I don’t like to talk about my past. The last time you
forced
me, you didn’t like what you heard, remember?”

She looked appalled. “I
forced
you?”

“Yeah!” he teased, putting his hand over the arm she’d just slapped in a defensive move.

“You promised you would tell me, and then you tried to get out of it.”

“I never promised. I may lie, but I don’t break promises.”

“I know.” She smiled, admiring him for his commitment to keep his word. “It’s just, I do all the talking. Tonight I’m in the mood to hear you carry your share of the conversation for a change. She had a specific topic in mind, hoping to get him to clarify what Shanni had said when she shared her bit of gossip with the Coitus Club.

“Have you ever been in jail?”

His eyes shot to her in surprise at the question. “Yes,” he answered somewhat reluctantly. “Several times.”

“For what?” She braced herself for a confession about killing someone.

“Well, they put us in a jail cell for hopping trains. Remember Taye’s story? They took Bryce to the hospital for observation but the rest of us spent the night locked up, waiting for our parents to come and get us.” He checked her expression, looking like he hoped he could be done.

“And the other times?” She wasn’t going to let him be finished. He looked at the ceiling again and acted tentative about admitting more.

“That was the first time. There’re things I did in between that
could
have landed me in jail, but I was too good at talking my way out of trouble. Sometimes, all it took was a smile or a wink.”

“I think I’m the only one who’s had to deal with Mr.
Meanie-Head-Grumpy-Pants
. You turn on the charm for everyone else.”

“I showed you charm. Was I not charming just before you told me you were a lesbian?” He smirked. “Hey, I just realized. You can’t say you don’t sleep with men anymore.” He laughed at his own joke and she smiled.

“So how did you fail to charm your way out of jail the next time?”

“The next time—few times, were in Asia. In Thailand, I was arrested for beating a man.”

She hoped he’d missed her silent gasp. He must have because he didn’t stop.

“We were at a bar. A friend told me to meet her out back and when I showed up, she wasn’t there, but another man was. He started coming on to me. I told him, very politely, that I wasn’t interested, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He tried to rough me up. I don’t usually sit by and let anyone rough me up, but then you know that already, somehow. So anyway, I ended up in jail.”

“Why didn’t he end up in jail, too?” she pumped for clarification. If the guy went to jail with him, Paul couldn’t have killed him.

“The guy was some important dignitary. His bodyguard jumped in when his boss didn’t fare so well against me. When that didn’t help, another one showed up with the police. They whisked the guy off, out of the public eye, and hauled me to jail.”

“So, he isn’t dead,” she said quietly, thinking aloud before she realized it.

“No. He’s still breathing.” Paul gave her a funny look. “I found out later that my
friend
had pimped me out for a hundred dollars. She took the guy’s money, lured me into that alley, and ran.”

Rhees’ mouth hung open in shock.

“When I got out a few days later and caught up to her, she gave me some lame excuse about needing the money, and how she knew I could take care of myself.”

“Some friend.”

“That’s Ginger for you.”

Rhees had heard the name, a lot.

“Ginger was your girlfriend?”

“No.” He didn’t hesitate to set that record straight. He exhaled loudly and narrowed his eyes. The crease between his brows grew deep as he thought for a minute, acting anxious. “Look, that’s just one more story about my past you’d have been better off not knowing. It only gets worse. Can we drop this—me doing the talking? I don’t like polluting your beautiful mind with my trash.”

“Have you ever been to prison?”

“Rhees,” he warned, and she backed down, but she hoped that someday, he’d trust her enough to tell her.

“Okay, but you’re not off the hook. Tell me something that isn’t bad or hard to talk about, or just make something up. I don’t care. I want to hear you talk.”

“All right, all right.” He rolled his eyes and exhaled again. “I got one.”

Rhees snuggled up next to him, making herself comfortable.

“My mom was always trying out the latest trends in nutrition. She got on this kick once about eating raw. For the duration, we couldn’t eat anything except raw fruits and veggies. For dinner, we’d have these elaborate salads with every vegetable you can imagine, but after the first eight days, I refused to eat anything but nectarines. I’d lost my taste for anything else. I started losing weight and it frustrated my mom, the doctor, to hell.” He laughed.

“Mom tried everything, bribing, threats, blackmail . . . she finally gave up and told Carmen to serve me whatever I wanted.” He laughed wickedly. “I didn’t
wawnt
to eat anything else. It had to be nectarines or nothing. I held out for days—then Carmen brought home a cheeseburger from my favorite drive-through, the one mom had banned the year before.” His laughter quieted.

“To this day, if I had to choose one thing to eat for the rest of my life, it would have to be nectarines.”

They lay on their sides, looking at each other, smiling. Paul leaned over and kissed Rhees a little too passionately, a little too suddenly. She whimpered and put her hand on his cheek to gently hold him back.

“Wait,” she breathed.

He looked disappointed, and collapsed back on his pillow while she took a deep breath.

“Okay. Let’s try that again. I’m ready this time.”

He stared at the ceiling and didn’t move.

“Paul, please, you can kiss me now. I’m all right. You just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“Naw, it’s okay.”

She sighed with frustration. “I’m so sorry. You’d think I could get over that by now.”

“Naw . . . your hymen just has good self-preservation instincts—a strong will to survive.” He suddenly grinned. He lifted the sheet and glanced down at himself with a raised brow. “It simply sensed the appropriate danger.”

She sighed again and flopped back onto her own pillow. “What are you doing here, still? Why do you put up with all my crappy issues?”

“Because you put up with all of mine.”

“Well, I think I got the better deal.” She giggled.

He hopped out of bed and started hopping up and down like he needed to burn off energy. “I’ve got it extra bad tonight. How about we head down to the shop? Let’s sleep there tonight. I could use a swim. I’ll jog circles around you on the way, and then I’ll do a few push-ups.”

oOo

Rhees overheard a few of the girls planning a trip to the mainland. Paul, as usual, made them promise to arrange to go as a group.

“Safety in numbers,” he said. They wandered around the shop asking everyone if they wanted to go.

“Rhees, do you need anything you can’t get on the island? You could come with us.” Dorene surprised everyone by inviting her.

“No,” Paul answered for her.

“Actually, Paul, I’ve been making due for quite a while. I really could use a few things. I tried to order them online, but they never showed up. I’m getting desperate.”

He shook his head in disgust. “Yeah, the mail in this country is unreliable, and that’s putting it kindly. Order what you need but have it sent to Taye. He or one of my other buddies will bring it with them the next time they visit. We came up with that system a while ago. It’s worked pretty well.”

“I would never send what I need to Taylor!” She needed new panties and a couple of new bras. It horrified her to think of Taylor anywhere near those items meant for her.

“Okay, but I can’t go this time. We have the singles group coming in a few days. I don’t like the idea of you being over there without me.”

“Okay, I guess I can wait a little longer.”

“Is that how you keep him?” Dorene asked later in the day.

Rhees had no idea what she meant.

“Paul’s found his own personal lap dog. You do everything he says. It’s like he owns you.”

“He doesn’t own me. He’s just concerned about my safety.”

“You don’t even realize, do you?” Dorene smirked. “I personally know he likes to be in control. You just make it all too easy. No wonder he’s still into you after all this time.”

Rhees went searching for him.

“Paul, I don’t want to put it off. I really do need to buy some things.”

“Okay. How about we take a trip to the capital as soon as our group leaves? Just you and I?”

That sounded really fun, but it felt good to be included for a change, and she couldn’t get what Dorene had said, off her mind. “No. I want to go with the girls. They rarely invite me to do anything with them and the things I need are personal.”

He sighed. He realized he was in for a battle he didn’t want and decided to handle it the way he knew best. He moved in close, slowly, so she knew he was coming. He held her hips with his hands and her attention with his eyes.

“I’ve got so much on my mind with this singles group coming. I need you. Here, with me. How am I supposed to manage without my right hand girl, hmm?” He rubbed her nose with his, still hypnotizing her with his twinkling eyes. “I can’t do it without you. You know that.” His eyes sparkled gloriously. His right eye twitched, doing the half wink thing.

“Okay,” she breathed as she gazed back as intensely as he gazed at her.

He closed his eyes for a second and let out a quick smirky breath. “I promise. I’ll make sure we get what you need.” He opened his eyes and resumed with his strategy. “After this group has come and gone, okay?”

“Okay.” It was all she could manage to say.

Chapter 10

I
t was after seven o’clock and Paul stood on a crate in the water so that it reached just below his chest. He focused, concentrated, holding the propeller parts together, looking at them like a puzzle to be solved. He’d been online all afternoon, researching the problem, and once Fred went home for the day, Paul had decided to check out the propeller. With no one left at the shop except Rhees, he went to work, hoping he’d found something in his research that would help him get the still unnamed boat running again. In the meantime, he’d been calling it
The
Piece of Shit
until he could come up with the right name.

“Are you hungry?” Rhees asked.

Paul didn’t answer and she asked again.

“Just order something. Whatever you want.”

She sighed. “Miranda is the only one on this island who delivers, and that’s only at lunchtime. She doesn’t do dinner, and even lunch is only because she lives right next door . . .
and
because she has a crush on you. Naughty Aunt Miranda.” Rhees giggled. “I can run home and make something quick. I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.”

He glanced up at her and she knew he didn’t like her suggestion. “I don’t want you running around by yourself.” He turned his attention back to the boat. “Just call Fratelli’s. Call whomever you want. They’ll all deliver if you pay them enough.”

She sighed again. “I know I had trouble walking alone for a while, but I can do it now. I’m fine. I just want to go home and make something quick and easy—and cheap.”

He didn’t answer. She’d lost him to the problem with the boat. She frowned as she watched him, water dripped from his skin, making him shine. The muscles in his arms bulged as he manipulated the parts in his hands, his expression serious, but he looked . . . so cute.

His tongue stuck out slightly and he mindlessly manipulated it, rolling and flexing it between his lips. His brow furrowed as he thought about what he was doing, recalling images he’d seen online. He stared intently at the pieces, his cheek twitched, and the muscles in his neck were taut.

Paul had the sexiest neck she had ever seen. She’d never noticed or paid attention to men’s necks before, but as she watched him—she wanted to kiss his neck—no, she wanted to take a bite of that Adam’s apple of his. She closed her eyes and tried to banish the thought, but she couldn’t completely get the idea out of her mind, especially when it would still be there, the second she opened her eyes again.

“Paul!”

“Hmm?” She wasn’t convinced he grasped how she really wanted his attention.

“I don’t want to order delivery. I’m going home to make us something to eat.”

“If I don’t get this fixed by Sunday, we’re screwed.” He obviously hadn’t heard her.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll hurry. Don’t worry about me, okay?” He didn’t respond. Entrenched in the problem, he wasn’t about to slip out of mechanic mode anytime soon. “Okay, I’m leaving, but I’ll be right back.”

Still nothing, and she didn’t want to press her luck. She stood and pulled her shorts from her backpack and slipped them on over her swimming suit bottoms, but didn’t bother to put the T-shirt over her tankini top. She’d be back to get it in less than an hour.

“I’ll see you later. Please don’t worry.” 

She started to walk off but stopped, knowing he would normally have a fit about what she planned to do. The fact that he didn’t say anything made her worry. She hated seeing him so stressed out and wished she could help. She really wanted to just burn that darned boat. It’d been nothing but trouble since it arrived.

She made it to her apartment in record time and decided not to shower. She went straight to the kitchen and set about making a tuna salad. She decided to eat before heading back, knowing Paul was too preoccupied to have any hopes of having anything that resembled a dinner date. She put the rest of the salad in a bowl with a lid, and grabbed two beers from the fridge before heading back to the shop.

oOo

Paul still stood in the water as she’d left him, holding pieces of the boat, looking perplexed that he couldn’t get it to work in spite of what he’d learned on the Internet. 

“Why don’t we just burn it?” Rhees asked with a playful grin. “I’ll get the match.”

He didn’t look up, but at least he acknowledged her with a, “Hmm?”

“I have some dinner for you,” she said. She looked down at him from the deck but he just grunted again. She sat down on the floor, put the food next to her, and watched him for about a half an hour until she started to worry about all the bacteria growing in the unrefrigerated salad.

“Paul. You need to eat before this goes bad. I know you don’t care about germs like I do, but you’ll never convince me that food poisoning is a figment of my imagination.”

“Okay, Babe. Just a minute.”

Hmm . . . Babe. At least he knows it isn’t Dobbs keeping him company.

He pulled the mask from around his neck, up over his eyes and slipped under the water to fiddle with putting the parts back. She sighed. Two minutes later, he resurfaced.

“Paul?”

“Hmm?” He still hadn’t looked at her.

She rolled onto her stomach, and with the salad in one hand, the spoon in the other, she leaned as far over the edge of the dock as she could while still balancing herself. She spooned a bit of salad and held it out to him.

“Paul, eat!” The stern, motherly tone in her voice was odd enough to make him break away from his engine troubles. As soon as he saw her, he did a double take. The way she hung over the edge of the deck, her swimming suit top—the way her breasts dangled in her suit as she leaned . . . over—it caught his attention.

He hardly noticed the spoon she held for him, and didn’t really care about it until she gestured that she wanted him to eat. He opened his mouth. She put the spoon in, and he closed his mouth around it but didn’t let go. He didn’t take his eyes off . . . her. He raised his eyebrows in approval.

“You like it.” She smiled, pleased with herself and relieved he didn’t seem to be upset about her walk home and back, alone, against his wishes. His eyes gleamed, and he nodded, slowly.

“Let go of the spoon, and I’ll get you some more.”

He released the spoon, but before she could scoop up another bite, he reached up and grabbed her, pulling her down into the water with him. She squealed in protest, and it was all she could do to hang on to the bowl and spoon and not drop them into the water.

“What are you doing? I almost spilled your dinner.”

“Mm,” he grunted, drawing her to him and holding her close. “I’m going to kiss you now, so get ready.” He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “Mm!”

“I thought you liked my salad.” Ending up in the water had thrown her off. She didn’t think about the closeness or react in her usual uptight way. She crooked her elbow around his neck to hang on, trying not to spill the salad.

“I like the way you’re feeding me. I like it a little too much.” He opened his mouth again to suggest that he was ready for more, and she fed him another spoonful. He chewed but didn’t stop studying her. He mused at how the island had turned her whole body his new favorite color. Her skin had tanned to a beautiful golden brown, matching her hair, which had lightened after spending months in the sun. He’d always thought it the color of honey, but now it nearly glowed, just like her golden amber eyes. After he swallowed, he pressed his lips against hers again, more passionately than before. She returned his kiss but not very enthusiastically.

“You have fish breath,” she said, her lips still against his mouth.

He smirked and gazed at her. “I would love to have fish breath.”

“Oh, you have it, all right. Trust me.” She made a face.

“I mean a different kind of fish breath.” His eyes sparkled with wicked humor.

“You don’t like tuna? Do you like crab? I almost made crab salad instead.”

He broke into laughter and squeezed her tighter. “Oh, Dani Girl!”
You have no idea what I’m talking about.
“Mm. I think your salad is delicious. Just like you.” He gave her another quick kiss and helped her out of the water. 

oOo

“How about naming it,
The Tow’d
?” Rhees walked up behind him as Paul finished tying the new boat off to the dock.

His research had paid off. He and Randy had just taken it out and back with no problems. Paul hoped the fix would last, at least until the singles group came and went.

“
The Toad
? I like it.” He smiled and put his arm around her. Her whole body stiffened, and he promptly removed his arm.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she smiled up at him and snuggled against him to assure him that she was ready this time.

He glanced sideways at her but tentatively wrapped his arm around her again. He pulled her close enough to rest her ear against his chest. That always helped. She took another breath, not as deep, and didn’t flinch.

“
The Toad
, fits. Toads are as disgusting as this darned boat!” He tried to suppress a secretive smile.

“I meant Tow’d, as in needing a tow.” It relieved her he no longer wanted to name it
Swell Dancer
, and she’d been trying to help him come up with a new name—that didn’t reference her in any way. “You know, since you’ve had to tow her so many times.”

“Oh, I thought you meant toads—because you hate those ugly, disgusting creatures.”

She stared at him with a strange look on her face. “How do you know that?”

He grinned and shrugged his shoulders with a little too much emphasis. “Lucky guess.”

The night after the dance contest, when he’d helped her home, they’d come across a knot of toads in the road along the way. She’d jumped into his arms, screaming hysterically about how she hated toads and calling them, “Ugly, disgusting creatures.”

“
The Tow’d
it is.” He kissed the top of her head and let her have it her way. The boat, in his mind, would be named after her, or because of her, without making her uncomfortable the way
Swell Dancer
had.

Later that day, the painter arrived. Ninety minutes later, the boat officially had its name.

He’d made Rhees promise to stay in the office until the painter finished. Paul led her around from the other side of the shop and stopped so they were across the deck from the boat, looking at it from a distance. He removed the hand he had over her eyes.

“What do you think?” Paul asked. He stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, as he pointed her toward the boat to inspect the new name.

“It looks good,” she answered.

“Why don’t you get a closer look—just to make sure.”

She moved closer, but he stayed where he was and braced himself.

“The” and “Tow’d” were painted in large gold letters with a black outline. The other words were painted in a small gold font, without the outline. From a distance the smaller words weren’t noticeable, but up close, the boat’s title read: 

The Gosh Darn Freakin’ Tow’d

Rhees spun around to let him have it, but he had disappeared.