Born Ready (10 page)

“So you said.” He unfurled the paper napkin wrapped around his silverware and spread it over his lap.

“This does smell good,” she admitted.

“And it’s a lot healthier than fried conch.”

“I thought everyone on Key West adored fried conch.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t good. It’s just not good for you.”

Jackie stabbed a rum-glazed broiled shrimp with her fork, slipped it into her mouth. “Oh, this is good.”

“Wow, you said something positive and complimentary.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Leave the sarcasm to you, huh?” He speared a hunk of bib lettuce dressed with lime vinaigrette.

“Something like that.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

“How’s the Coast Guard business?” she asked after a while.

“Excuse me? Are you actually making polite conversation?”

“I’m trying here. Cut me some slack.”

He raised his palms. “Consider the slack cut.”

“How come a hunky guy like you isn’t married?”

“You think I’m hunky.” He couldn’t help smirking.

“Don’t gloat. I don’t want to upchuck this beautiful shrimp.”

“Good food, isn’t it?”

“Great,” she admitted. “I had no idea I was so hungry.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“You never answered my question. Why hasn’t someone snatched up an eligible bachelor like you? You’re like, what? Thirty-five?”

“Thirty-one,” he said around his bruised ego.

“Or have you already been married and divorced?”

“No one’s ever slipped a ring on this finger.” He held up his bare left hand.

“So what? You got terminal bad breath or something?”

“Just haven’t found the right woman I guess.”

“What about her?” Jackie waved a hand at a waitress delivering food at the next table over.

“No thanks.”

“How come?”

“Too young.” He held her gaze.

She didn’t flinch. “She looks over eighteen to me. What’s wrong with young?”

“I’d have to teach her everything. I’d rather have someone who knows her way around the world.”

“Never know. She might be able to teach you a few things about taking orders.”

“Maybe you should date her,” Scott joked.

“Are you saying I don’t take direction well?”

“I’m saying you’d wash out of the Coast Guard on the first day.”

“Good thing I have zero interest in joining the Coast Guard.”

Scott chuckled.

“I don’t get it,” she muttered.

“Get what?”

“Why you seem to like me.”

“Abrasive, obsessive, cranky, what’s not to like?”

“If I’m so bad, why are you here?”

“I’m one of those guys who believes you can’t enjoy the sunshine without a little rain. How can I enjoy a pleasant woman without spending a little time with a shrew?”

“I’m not a shrew. I just have different priorities than most women.”

“I know.” He sobered. “I was just teasing. I don’t think you’re a shrew.”

“I can be,” she admitted. “When my research gets stymied.”

“And I stymied it when I pulled up your equipment.”

“Yes.” She lowered her eyes, gazed at him speculatively. “But all is well now. I forgive you.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling strangely, incredibly relieved. The tone of the evening changed after that and they chattered leisurely about their mutual love of the ocean for almost an hour. Every time he peered into her eyes, Scott felt swept away.
Everly, something weird is going on here. Just pay the bill and leave while the getting is good. She won’t take offense.

Yes, right, good idea. That’s exactly what he would do. He pulled his wallet from his pocket, peeled off the money for the meal, plus a sizable tip for Tad, and tucked the cash under his empty plate.

He stood up, leaned down.

Jackie sat in the chair looking up at him. He admired her at close range. Moonlight draped over her patrician features. Her skin shimmered golden. The ocean whispered.

Mermaid.

He opened his mouth, meant to tell her good-night, good luck with her studies, have a good life, but instead, he said, “C’mon. I’ll walk you home.”

JACKIE DID NOT WANT to admit that she was enjoying herself and Scott’s company. She wasn’t prone to infatuation. If she felt lusty, she usually took care of it in the most efficient way possible, got the urges out of her system and then went back to work. She found anything that distracted her from her research an irritant.

But now, here, walking along the beach with her sandals clutched between her fingers, her feet digging into the sand, the sound of the surf whispering a sweet lullaby, and Scott walking beside her, she felt…well…feminine.

Normal.

Startled by this thought, she drew in a deep breath. Who was this guy and why was he interested in her? Bigger question, why was she interested in him? Yes, she was interested. There. She’d dared to admit it.

He carried her book and notes under his arm. She sneaked a glance over at him. The moonlight cast his profile in shadows. He had a strong nose and an equally strong chin, high cheekbones and piercing eyes. Her stomach jumped at the acknowledgment of her desire.

Hormones. Chemicals. That was all.

She was a scientist. She understood that. It was okay. Part of the human condition. One thing she did not believe in was the softer feelings of the heart. Emotions were transient. Shifting. As evidenced by her parents’ tumultuous relationships and her mother’s abandonment. She pushed that thought aside. She didn’t even miss her mother. Not really. Not anymore. She’d learned to comfort herself with science. Jack had taught her that. Her father had his faults, but he’d stuck by her and he’d shown her that the best way to cope with emotions was simply to ignore them.

Weigh the facts, evaluate the empirical data, draw rational conclusions from the evidence, don’t allow your mind to be swayed by anything as ethereal as emotions.

So perhaps that was why she was so startled by the strength of attraction she felt for Scott Everly.

Let it go. It will pass.

She took a deep breath, watched the moonlight shimmer over the water.

The ocean.

The one thing she truly loved unequivocally. As unfathomable as the ocean was, she understood it far more than she understood human nature.

Scott, on the other hand, seemed to have a knack for reading people. It was a knack she envied. A knack that made her feel ineffective and socially backward.

“I love the ocean,” Scott murmured.

“What’s not to love? It’s mysterious and haunting. Thrilling and calming all at the same time.”

“Yeah.” His voice husky.

She could feel the heat of his gaze upon her. She stopped, turned away from him and toward the sea. “I suppose it’s the one thing we have in common.”

“You don’t know me well enough to say that.” He moved to stand beside her. He was so close all she had to do was reach out and touch him.

Do not touch him.

“Do you like scuba diving?” he asked.

“I took my first dive when I was seven,” she said.

“I was six.”

“Show-off.”

“When your father is Coast Guard, you learn early.”

“Or when your dad is Jack Birchard.”

“That’s got to be weird.”

She shrugged. “To me, it’s normal.”

“There is nothing normal about you, mermaid.”

She knew that. A pang of something she could not name squeezed her. “Why do you call me that?”

“It’s the first thought that popped into my head when I saw you on your boat. Now here’s a mermaid.”

“What made you think that?”

He didn’t answer for a while. She could hear the sound of his breathing.

“When I was a kid I had a crush on the Little Mermaid. Not the Disney version, but the Hans Christian Andersen story. My father read it to me as a bedtime story.”

Jackie imagined a young Scott curled up in a bed with seascape sheets and models of Coast Guard helicopters and cutters dangling from the ceiling. The strange twist in her stomach tightened. “Guess what my father read me as a bedtime story.”

“Oceanography text books.”

“That and his biography.”

“Jackie,” he whispered, sympathy oozing in his tone.

She laughed off his compassion. “It’s okay. He is the greatest oceanographer in the world next to Jacques Cousteau. What do you suppose the deal is with the name Jack? Name your kid Jack and he’s bound to go to sea?”

“Or name your daughter Jackie?”

“That was just an ego thing for the old man.”

“Excuse me for saying so, but he sounds like a total prick.”

Defensively, she shrugged. “He’s not. Not really. He’s just too busy saving the world to bother with human niceties.”

“And it rubbed off on you.”

It had. Guilt nibbled at her. She had been pretty rude to Scott from the very beginning and yet, here he was, still trying to break through the barnacles she’d built around herself to stay safe. Part of her appreciated his efforts, but on another level, he totally terrified her.

“It’s getting late,” he commented.

“Yes.” She turned and started walking.

Scott stayed right beside her, step for step.

They reached her apartment. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “This is me. Good night.”

“I’m walking you all the way to your front door.”

“There’s no need.”

“I didn’t ask if there was a need. I said I was walking you home and I’m walking you to your door.”

She turned away so he couldn’t see her smile and she started up the steps. He came up behind her, his feet echoing heavily on the metal steps. She fished her keys from her pocket at the door.

He clicked his tongue in that tsk-tsk way he had. “You didn’t leave your porch light on.”

“I never do.”

“Why not?”

“I forget.”

He shook his head. “I shudder to think of all the other safety measures you skimp on because your head is in the clouds.”

“Are you calling me an airhead?”

“Not at all.” Humor tinged his voice. “You’re a bona fide seahead.”

She laughed. “Well, thank you for walk—”

Jackie didn’t get the rest of the sentence out. She heard her book fall from his arm. It hit the landing with a loud plop and papers flew up everywhere. She should have been alarmed by that. Should have scrambled to retrieve her data.

Instead, when Scott wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up tight to his chest, she sank against him.

No, no, this is not smart. Not smart at all.

But she stilled the intelligent voice warning her to stop this nonsense right now. And when his mouth covered hers, she actually sighed, breathing in the taste of him.

His impish tongue skimmed her lips and damn if she didn’t part her teeth and let him slip right in.

“Jackie,” he whispered against her mouth.

The sweet vibration sent a shiver through her. How long had it been since a man had kissed her? Over a year. Maybe much longer.

He kept kissing her. Lightly. With much care. The gentle brush of angelfish.