Nantucket (7 page)

She laughed. “That's funny . . . that's what my father says about
you.
”

“He does?” Liam asked, pulling back to search her face. “Why?”

“I don't know,” she lied.

He lifted her chin to look at him. “Yes, you do.”

“Why does your uncle think
I'm
trouble?” she asked, changing the subject.

“'Cause you'll break my heart.”

“No, I won't.”

Liam searched her eyes. “You won't?”

Cadie shook her head. “Never,” she said, laying her head against his chest and feeling his heartbeat. They were both quiet as they watched the fireflies blinking in the woods.

And then the first fireworks screamed into the sky.

“O
h, to be a dog,” Liam mused softly as he got up from his chair. “At least you have the sense to not drink stuff that'll make you feel like crap the next day,” he said, bending down to scratch Tuck's silky ears. “I think the only way I'm gonna feel better is to sweat this stuff right out of my system. What do you think—want to go for a run?” Tuck blinked at him, considering the invitation, then yawned, stretched his legs, and closed his eyes again. “I'll take that as a ‘no,' ” Liam said with a half smile.

One of the hardest parts of running, Liam knew, was the first few steps, but he also knew—from years of running—that once he reached the half-mile mark, his body would fall into an easy rhythm and the fog would clear from his mind.

It was still early when he set out, and as he trotted along the quiet road, he was still trying to decide if he should go to the art show. After hearing Jack brag callously about his extramarital relations, he didn't know if he wanted to see him again. And how could he look Tracey in the eye, knowing what he knew? He felt miserable and he wasn't even the one who had cheated!

And then there was Cadie—was it crazy to think she might be related to the artist whose show it was . . . just because they shared a last name? And even if she was related, what were the chances she'd be there? Liam ran his fingers through his hair and wondered if she'd recognize him.

 

“D
id you get caught?” Liam asked as he watched Cadie lean her bike against the boathouse.

“No,” she said, following him down to the dock. “I told you they wouldn't notice. In fact, my father was so drunk my mother had to drive home.”

Liam shook his head, picturing an inebriated Carlton Knox. “Will they miss you today?” he asked, climbing into the boat to give the chrome a quick polish.

“No, my mother's getting her hair done and going to a luncheon, and my father's golfing all day.”

Liam nodded thoughtfully.

She watched him, and teased, “Don't you worry you're gonna wipe the finish right off?”

Liam stepped back onto the dock. “Nooo, I don't,” he said, rolling his eyes. Then he wrapped his arms around her and moved to the edge of the dock as if he was going to throw her in.

“Hey!” she said, squirming and giggling. “You'll be sorry.”

“Will I?”

“Mm-hmm! Men have died for less than that!”

“They have?” he said, laughing.

“Yes,” she nodded, holding his arms.

“I probably shouldn't, then,” he teased, edging closer.

“Besides, I'm sure you don't want me to get your seats wet.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “That's true . . . but they'll dry—after all, it
is
a boat. It's made to get wet.”

“Well, if I go in, you're coming with me. . . .” she said, still laughing and holding his arms.

“Hmm . . . sounds like a threat,” he mused.

“Not a threat. A
fact.
”

“Is that so?” Liam said, stepping to the edge. Suddenly, Cadie squirmed free, causing him to lose his balance. The look on his face was priceless as he realized he had no chance of saving himself, and the next second, he splashed headlong into the water, sputtering and laughing at the sudden reversal of fortune.

Cadie was laughing so hard she had to hold her sides.

“Very funny,” Liam teased good-naturedly as he pulled himself up on the dock.

“Mm-hmm,” she giggled, backing away, but before she knew it, he had his dripping arms around her again, and she could feel his cold, wet clothes soaking hers.

“Ready?” he teased, and even though she knew what was coming, it was shocking to tumble into the frigid New England water. A moment later, they both came up, face-to-face, laughing, and Liam pulled her toward him and pressed his lips against her full mouth, tasting the salty water. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she said softly.

He looked down at her wet tank top and, with a mischievous grin, traced his fingers over her breasts, lightly making circles around her erect nipples. “What's going on here?” he teased.

“They're saluting you,” she said with a laugh, “which is the opposite of what's going on down here,” she said, pressing against him.

Liam laughed. “Ahh, no, he doesn't like the cold.”

“Well, maybe you should let him warm up. . . .” she said with a slow smile.

“Right here?!”

She laughed, looking around. “Well, maybe not
right
here. . . .”

“Hmm,” he murmured, kissing her again. “Maybe I will. . . .”

Suddenly, they heard voices in the parking lot and they looked up to see Cooper and another man walking toward the boathouse. Cadie ducked behind Liam. “That's Taylor's father,” she whispered.

“Taylor who?” Liam asked.

“Walsh,” she whispered. “He's friends with my father.”

“Oh,” Liam said, trying to figure out how they could get in the boat without being seen. “Go around,” he said softly, motioning, and Cadie made her way around to the other side of the boat as Liam untied the line and pushed the boat away. Waves from the wake of a passing boat lapped quietly against the sides, rocking the boat up and down, and Liam could see Cadie half-swimming half-pulling, trying to help, and he prayed that Coop—who he knew had seen them—was keeping Mr. Walsh occupied. Finally, when they were about a hundred yards out, Cadie climbed up the ladder on the back and Liam followed. He slid into the seat and pushed the starter and the old runabout rumbled to life. Then he slowly turned around and, without looking back, headed out to sea.

“Wow! That was close!” Cadie said with a grin as she pulled a towel around her.

Liam, who'd pulled off his wet T-shirt, nodded but didn't smile.

“What's the matter?” she called over the rumble of the motor.

“Nothing. . . .”

“Something,” she said, putting her hand on his thigh.

He looked over with a sad smile and shook his head again, and since the only way to communicate was to shout, Cadie waited, watching his handsome profile and windswept hair. Finally, just as Tuckernuck came into view, he pointed to two whales breeching above the blue-gray water. “Want to get closer?” he called. Cadie nodded enthusiastically and Liam changed course, slowing down as they drew near to the spot where they'd seen the whales go down. Hungry seagulls skimmed the water all around them, but there wasn't any sign of the gigantic mammals—in fact, the water was calm. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, one of the whales breeched thirty feet from the stern. They watched in amazement as it slapped the water, and even though the runabout was seventeen feet long, it was no match for the tremendous whale whose wake rocked the boat back and forth like a toy. Liam started to pull forward, but the second whale breeched right in front of them. “Too close!” he shouted, backing up and turning at the same time. Finally, they were able to move away and watch from a safer distance.

“That was amazing!” Cadie said when they finally pulled up alongside the skiff. “I've never seen a whale before.”

“You haven't?!”

She shook her head.

“I've seen tons . . . pardon the pun,” he added with a grin.

“Pun pardoned,” she said with a laugh, handing him the cooler and beach bag.

He held his hand out to her. “Are you rowing?”

“Sure,” she said with a smile.

“Great!” he said, untying the line.

Cadie slid the oars into their locks while Liam stretched out on the bench seat across from her. She eyed his shirtless, tan body. “Lovin' the view,” she said with a grin.

“No staring,” Liam teased. “Just rowing.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” she said with a salute.

Liam shook his head and closed his eyes. “So, are you hung over?”

“Pshaw! Three beers . . . noo,” Cadie said, pulling on the oars.

“Not a lightweight?”

“No, I can handle my liquor.”

“Good . . . because I brought wine.”

“Good . . . because there's truth in wine.”

Liam opened one eye and peered at her. “Is someone not telling the truth?”

“You.”

“Me?! How?”

“I asked you what was wrong before and you said ‘nothing.'”

“Nothing
is
wrong.”

“Then why did you look so unhappy back at the boathouse?”

Liam looked up at the blue sky. “Because I can't figure out why you hide every time we see someone you know. Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

Cadie stopped rowing. “I'm not embarrassed,” she began slowly. “I just . . .” She hesitated, not knowing what to say. “I just don't want anyone to talk about us. I don't want anything to happen that will jeopardize being able to see each other.”

“Do your parents know you're seeing me?” Liam asked, sitting up.

“No.”

“Why not? Am I
not
good enough?”

Cadie could see the hurt in his eyes. “Not at all,” she lied. “It's my father.” She shook her head. “You . . . you wouldn't understand,” she stammered.

“Try me.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Liam, please don't do this—don't ruin our day.
I
want to spend time with you. . . .
I
want to
be
with you. . . . It doesn't matter what my parents think.”

Liam shook his head—her tears felt like knives to his heart. “Cooper was right—your parents will
never
let you be with a lowlife like me. Is that it?”

“You're not a lowlife,” Cadie said angrily. “Don't say that.”

“Yeah, well, why can't you tell them? If you can't tell them, what future do we have?”

Cadie shook her head. “I don't know. I haven't thought about it. I just want to spend time with you
now.
”

“We can't just think about now. We have to think about tomorrow. What if they find out and make you stop seeing me?”

“That won't happen.”

“It might. And eventually your vacation's going to end—what happens then?”

“I don't know—we'll figure it out when that happens. Why can't we just enjoy the time we have?”

Liam shook his head. “I don't know, Cadie. I guess I feel like one of us is going to get hurt.”

“I told you I'd never hurt you.”

He searched her eyes. “I want to believe you. . . .”

“Then do it,” she said, pulling the oars again.

As they neared shore, Liam hopped into the water and pulled the skiff high up onto the beach, reached for the cooler and blanket, and then held out his hand. Cadie took it and as they walked along the beach, they were both quiet, lost in their own thoughts. When they reached the house, Liam pushed the door open and held back the curtain of wild roses for her to walk under. “Did you clean?!” she asked in surprise, looking around at the swept floor and noticing a bouquet of blue hydrangeas on the mantel. Liam tried to suppress a smile as he spread a blanket across the hardwood floor and lit candles that were on either side of the bouquet. He reached up to turn on a radio and Don Henley's “The End of the Innocence” drifted through the room. “When did you do all this?” she asked in amazement.

“This morning,” he said, opening the wine.

“You've already been here today?!”

He nodded as he filled two cups.

“Well, it looks very nice.”

“Thanks,” he said, handing a cup to her. “I don't know much about wine—just that white is supposed to be chilled and red isn't.”

“That's more than most people know.” She took a sip and licked her lips. “It's good. Where'd you get it?”

“Coop's liquor cabinet.”

“Won't he miss it?”

“The only thing he'd miss is his beloved
Ole No. 7.
”

Cadie gave him a puzzled look.

“Jack Daniels.”

“That's what my father drinks!”

“Maybe if they knew that about each other, they'd act differently. Maybe they'd have a drink together.”

“Maybe,” Cadie said doubtfully. Then she smiled and held her cup up in a toast. “To your future home!”

“Thanks,” he said, tapping her cup and taking a sip. “Are you hungry?”

Cadie shook her head, and then, hearing the unmistakable, slow whistle at the beginning of Guns N' Roses's “Patience,” smiled. “I love this song.”

“I planned it.”

“You did not,” she said with laugh.

“Mm-hmm,” he said, taking her cup and setting it on the mantel next to his. Then he put his hands on her hips and gently pulled her against him and swayed slowly to the song. Cadie could feel how aroused he was, and with a mischievous smile, she moved her hips.

“What are you trying to do to me, girl?” he whispered.

“Nothin',” she teased.

“If that's nothin',” he murmured, “I can only imagine what something's like.”

“Somethin's much better.”

“Is it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Liam gently kissed the top of her head and slowly made his way down to her lips. “Mmm . . . you taste like sweet wine,” he said softly, “and you smell good too.”

“Baby Soft.”

“Baby soft?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, unbuttoning the top of his jeans.

As she slipped her hands inside his boxers, he closed his eyes, but when she slid his jeans down and knelt in front of him, he put his hands on her shoulders and opened his eyes to watch. Finally, barely able to hold on, he pulled her tank top over her head and knelt next to her, his heart pounding. She slid off the bottom of her bikini and lay back across the blanket, and Liam, leaning on one elbow, lightly traced his fingers along her smooth skin. “You're so beautiful,” he said softly.

Moments later, she gently pulled him on top of her, and he slowly pushed himself deep and hard inside.