Manhunting (6 page)

Still, it was nice to relax with a man for a change. Even if he was unconscious.

Her line jerked.

She sat up and grasped the pole, catching the reel as it played out. There was definitely something tugging on the other end.

“Jake,” she said softly. He didn’t move, and she could tell by his even breathing that he was still asleep. “Jake,” she said louder, but he slept on.

The fish jerked against her line. “Jake!” she yelled, smacking him on the leg with her foot.

The breathing stopped. “What?” he said, from under his hat.

“I’ve got a fish.”

“That’s nice.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Throw it back.”

“Jake.”

He yawned and sat up slowly, pushing his hat back on his head. “If I’d known you were going to be this energetic, I wouldn’t have brought you.”

“I didn’t do this on purpose.” She reeled her line in and a tiny sunfish broke the water.

“You got an aquarium?” Jake asked.

She brought the pole around to grab the fish, but it flipped and struggled and she couldn’t catch it After it had flipped past his face twice, Jake reached up and caught it, easing the hook out of its mouth and tossing it back in the water.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you have a knife?”

“Depends on what you want to use it for.”

“To cut this damn hook off before any more fish try to commit suicide on my line.”

He grinned at her and gave her his pocketknife. She cut the line above the hook and handed both the hook and the knife back to him. Then she dropped her line in the water and leaned back in the boat. “Thank you,” she said. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Not at all.” He started to lean back and stopped. “Do you have to be back by any certain time?”

“I’m playing golf at two with Peter somebody,” Kate said. “If I set foot on shore much before that, Valerie will make me play with the other kids. I am in no hurry, trust me.”

“Valerie is nobody to mess with,” Jake agreed. “So you’re playing vertical golf, are you?”

“What? On that hill? Absolutely not,” Kate said.

“We’re playing on the wimp course in back of the hotel.”

“Want to bet?” Jake said.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“If this is the Peter I’m thinking about, he cheats,” Jake said. “And it’s a lot easier to cheat on the hard course.”

“He doesn’t cheat,” Kate said, looking at Jake with disgust. “Just look at him. He has ‘man of distinction’ written all over him, just like in one of those expensive liquor ads.”

“Those are usually the ones who cheat,” Jake said. “Don’t bet money with him. Or anything else you’d hate to lose.”

“Very funny,” Kate said. “I don’t believe it. Who says so?”

“The caddies.” Jake settled back down in his end of the boat.

“The caddies love him,” Kate said. “Penny said they actively beg to go around with him.”

“Sure, they do,” Jake said. “He tips them so they won’t rat on him. The per-capita income of caddies has gone up considerably since ol‘ Pete came to stay.”

“I still don’t believe it,” Kate said, and slipped back down on her spine in her end of the boat. “He’s just not the type.”

Jake laughed, and she closed her eyes and ignored him. She could feel him watching her, but the water lapping at the side of the boat was so soothing that she forgot him and drifted off.

Jake tipped back his hat and watched her sleep. She looked a lot more vulnerable in her sleep. Almost like a kid. But she still looked cool and untouchable with her hair all pulled back, dressed in those blah colors. There was no heat in her. Which, when he considered it, was a damn good thing because, her efficiency notwithstanding and much against his better judgment, he could easily have been attracted to her if he hadn’t been married to someone like her. He remembered Tiffany bitching at him for taking life too easy. It had taken him a long while to realize what the problem was, but he’d figured it out eventually—she’d assumed she’d married somebody like herself: career-driven, focused, successful. After a few months of married life she’d realized that life was pretty much a game to Jake, and she’d set out to change all that. Well, she had. They were divorced before the year was out.

The really sad thing was that neither one of them had lied to the other or pretended to be anything but what they were. They’d both just willfully misread each other because of the raging physical attraction they’d felt. Jake looked again at Kate curled peacefully at the other end of the boat and reminded himself,
The physical stuff doesn’t last. Remember that, no matter what she does.

Of course, he admitted to himself, Kate wasn’t doing anything. He’d mentally kicked himself for inviting her into the boat, but she was turning out to be good company. Quiet except for the battle with the fish. A woman who could take teasing without getting huffy, and who didn’t come on to him, didn’t expect him to entertain her, who just lay back in the boat and went to sleep. A truly restful woman.

And she wasn’t boring. In fact, she made a damn good story. Last night at the luau, he’d found himself telling his parents and uncle about Frank and Lance, with Will putting in disclaimers. “You make her sound like the Terminator,” Will had said, laughing. “She is,” he’d said. But she didn’t look dangerous now. She looked sort of...sexless. Like a kid sister. He’d never had a sister. Maybe he’d borrow Kate as a sister for the time she’d be around. It would be nice to have a friendship with a woman, and Kate would be absolutely safe because she was interested only in Yuppies, and he wasn’t going to fall for her.

He looked over at Kate once more, shook his head, and then pulled his hat down and went to back to sleep.

When Kate woke up, it was late morning. She had rolled over on her side in her sleep, and their legs were tangled. She stretched and felt her legs slide along his. She thought idly about running her toe under the edge of his shorts and then blushed, deciding it was a very bad idea. She was sure she wasn’t interested in him, and if he made a pass, they’d drown.

She pulled her legs back and sat up, suddenly feeling ravenous. Valerie had attacked her before she could eat breakfast, and it was still at least an hour short of lunch. She searched through the cooler. All it held was beer. Well, beer was nutritious, wasn’t it? Hops and grain. She took one from the cooler and then leaned back to think about how pleasant life was on the lake, even with Jake there.

Well, actually, she admitted as she sipped the beer, Jake was probably one of the reasons it was pleasant. It was nice to have undemanding companionship, for a change. She watched him doze at the other end of the boat. He was like having a brother around. Like the brother she’d never had. Comfortable, fun to talk to, trustworthy. Well, more than that, maybe. She could get those qualities from an attentive dachshund. Of course, she’d never had a dachshund. What a shame.

She contemplated the idea of getting a dog over her second beer. It was probably a bad idea, since she lived in the city. Even if it was a little dog. It would be lonely in her apartment all day. She certainly was lonely in her apartment all night.
Stop it, Kate,
she told herself.
Self-pity is a sign of weakness.

Kate leaned to put her empty can back in the pack and was getting her third when she realized that Jake wasn’t sleeping anymore. She reached over and tilted his hat up, and he gazed sleepily back at her.

“Hello,” she said. “Want a beer?”

“That would be nice.”

She dropped the hat back over his eyes and cracked him a beer. He held out his hand, and she wrapped his fingers around it. He guided it back under his hat, and she cracked another can for herself and leaned back on the cushions. The sky was a brighter blue than before, and the sun had moved so that her end of the boat was partially in the sun. The heat warmed her white blouse uncomfortably. She drank her beer and envied Jake, cool without his shirt. One more unfair thing about civilization.

The third beer went down faster than the second because of the heat. Kate’s head began to swim a little, probably because the sun was hot. She sat up and opened a fourth.

When he heard the crack of the pop-top, Jake lifted his hat for a moment and glanced at her, shrugged and lay back again.

Kate rolled the cold can against her throat and down the front of her blouse and thought about how unfair life was. It was really hot in the sun, but could she go topless? Noooo. And why? Because she was female. Life was sexist. And really, really unfair. She looked over at Jake, cool and comfortable and shirtless, and decided to strike a blow for women everywhere.
This is for all the hot women,
she thought, and took off her blouse. She was wearing a peach satin and white lace bra, the most conservative underwear Jessie had allowed her to buy. It covered, she reasoned, a lot more of her than a bikini top. She felt much better. She tossed her blouse into the center of the boat and leaned back to finish her beer.

Jake tilted his hat up when he felt her blouse hit his legs.

“Cooler?”

“Much.”

“Try not to take anything else off. You’ll scare the fish.”

She waved her beer can at him and nodded, dabbling her hand in the water. “Here, fish.”

“Kate, did you have any breakfast this morning?”

“Nope.” She took another healthy swig of the beer.

He leaned forward and picked up the cooler, moving it out of her reach.

“Give me your beer,” he said, and she moved to hand it to him, feeling her breasts tighten against the lace as she leaned forward. They felt wonderful.

Jake looked down as he took the can from her.

“Nice bra.”

“Thank you. It’s new.”

He laughed. “Go back to sleep, kid. We’ll go in when you wake up.”

So much for sexless. Jake shook his head as he watched her. There was a lot of woman under that blouse. And there must have been something about Kate he’d missed, because he hadn’t pegged her as a satin-and-lace type. Plain white cotton would have been his guess, although he hadn’t guessed; Kate’s underwear had never occurred to him because he’d never thought of Kate undressed.

She’s repressed,
he thought.
She wears all that tailored tan clothing and then wears sexy underwear underneath it.
But maybe
repressed
wasn’t the right word. Maybe she was schizophrenic. It would explain why guys like Lance were splatting up against her like bugs on a windshield. The signals were there, and then she shot them down. Jake shook his head again, bewildered by her and at the same time smug that he, at least, was impervious to her charms. Still, he carefully avoided looking at her as she lay curled up, asleep, at the other end of the boat.

No point in pushing his luck.

An hour later, Kate woke up when Jake shook her foot to bring her out of her doze. She sat up and stretched clumsily, and he tossed her blouse to her. She put it on, missing the armhole the first time.

“Time to go home,” he said.

“We should have brought lunch,” Kate said.

“How do you feel?”

Kate considered it. Light-headed. Relaxed. Slightly turned-on. “I’m drunk.”

“I’d guessed that. Button your blouse.” He untied the boat and began to row back to shore. Kate concentrated on her blouse, watching her fingers push the buttons through the holes.
I wonder who thought of buttonholes,
she thought.
And I wonder what she was doing when she thought of them.
Visions of trains plunging into tunnels flashed through her head. She was still occupied with making the connection when Jake beached the boat, hauling it up onto the stones while she still sat in it. She climbed out, clumsily pulling the poles and the cooler bag with her.

“Wait a minute,” he said and pulled her around to face him. “Who taught you to dress yourself?”

She had missed a couple of buttons. Big deal. She stood close to him while he straightened her shirt, popping the buttons out through the wrong holes and sliding them back through the right ones. Once his fingers touched her skin, and she instinctively leaned into him just a little, pressing slightly against his hands. He stopped for a minute and said, “Steady, kid,” and then finished buttoning her blouse before he turned her around and sent her up the path with a little shove.

“Don’t go too fast,” he said. “I’m right behind you.” He picked up the gear and took her up a different, much shorter path—one that brought them out above the cabins instead of past the hotel. Then he dropped the gear on her porch and asked her for her key.

“It’s in my bra,” she said and fished for it. It had slipped under her breast, but she found it and gave it to him, warm from her flesh.

“I’m surprised there was room for it in there,” he said and unlocked her door.

She walked to her bed, wheeled around, waved to him to thank him, and fell backward onto the mattress. He picked up her feet and threw them up on the bed and then put his hands under her arms to haul her up onto the pillows.

He looked so cute bending over her with that mustache. She threw her arms around him and drew his face close to hers.

“You’re the brother I never had,” Kate said thickly.

“I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel,” Jake said, and then she passed out in his arms.

* * *

Jake went back to the hotel, shaking his head. The woman needed a keeper—any keeper but him. The memory of her—soft and round, with her arms around him— was disturbing.
Remember,
he told himself,
her body might be warm, but she has ice cubes in her eyes and a business plan for a heart.

A vision of Kate smiling at him in the boat rose before him. Well, maybe she was more than that. She was friendly. And she was good company. And she didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives. In fact, she thought of him as a brother. It made him feel both relieved and insulted because after all she was a damn attractive woman. And not nearly as icy as he’d thought. Her blue eyes had been melting when she’d smiled at him right before she’d passed out, cold as a haddock.