Rock the Boat: A Griffin Bay Novel (17 page)

But the smile slid from her face. “I’ll miss you, Davis. You changed me completely—for the better. I can’t go back to being the same old Jordan I was before. It’s like I know a whole other side of myself now, one that had been dormant forever. You woke me up—all of me—and I can’t just go back to sleep again.”

Her words choked off. She drew a shuddering breath, clinging to his shoulders with a desperate grip.

“I…” She couldn’t say it.

Davis said it for her. “I love you.”

Jordan pulled away and stared up at him. The starlight made his blue eyes glow. “You do?”

“How could I not? You woke me up, too, Jordan—the part of me that was sleeping. Before, all I knew how to do was run from the future. I just wanted to live in my own past forever—I wanted to be stuck there, and never move forward. But now I’m different. I’m the kind of guy who can move ahead with a plan, and go after my goals.” He chuckled uncomfortably. “I think I can, anyway. I guess it still remains to be seen.”

Jordan smiled. Happy tears spilled from her eyes. “You can. I know you can. And I love you, too.” Strange—when she finally said the words they didn’t feel the least bit odd or out of place. She had known Davis for not quite ten days—and had liked him for far less time than that. But she was certain the place he’d found in her heart was a permanent one, and no one else ever would fill it. “I can’t say goodbye to you, Davis—not forever.”

“We don’t need to say good-bye. I have no intention of letting you go.” He tightened his embrace, as if to illustrate his point, and Jordan melted comfortably against him. “It will take plenty of time to restart my career with a whole new persona, and time to write all the new songs and record my first solo album. But Seattle isn’t all that far away. I’ll be back to see you, whenever work slows down enough that I can slip away. And if the music gods are good to me, I’ll have a big enough hit that I can eventually take some time off from recording and touring. Then I’ll get my own place up here in the islands. Maybe then I can even slow down and learn how to enjoy the good things in life.”

“You want to get a place here? In the islands?” The mere thought sent her heart sailing like the
Coriolis
with all its sheets raised.

“Now that I’ve seen how beautiful it is here, I can’t leave this place—not permanently. I can’t leave this woman, either.” He kissed her neck. Jordan squeezed her eyes shut, lost in the bliss. “Will you wait that long, Jordan? Will you wait for me to get my life back on track, and turn my own boat around?”

“I will,” she said at once. “Gladly. Like you said, Seattle isn’t that far away. I can come down to visit you, too, all this summer—whenever I have some time off work.”

“So you’re going to stick with it? You aren’t going to close down your charter business?”

“I think I’ll keep it going a while longer,” she said, grinning, and warm to her toes with satisfaction. She was making the right choice—about the business, and about Davis—she was sure of that. “I’ve come to regard my clients in a slighlty different light. I’m finding them a lot less unbearable these days.”

“Just don’t give all of them the special treatment you gave me.”

“Ha! None of them can compare to you, Davis. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Suddenly he spun her around. They danced dizzily under the stars, both of them laughing.

“I can’t wait for you to come see me in Seattle,” Davis said. “I can’t wait to tell Tyler about the solo project, either. I haven’t felt this inspired—or this confident—in such a long time.”

“Do you want to put on some loud music to celebrate?”

He stopped spinning and pulled her closer. “No. I don’t want anything but this—what I have right now.”

“And what’s that?”

“Quiet, calm waters… and you.”

.20.

D
avis woke with the morning sun streaming in through his cabin’s porthole. He blinked in the bright light, lying still as he readied himself, feeling a sense of focused calm spread throughout his body.

It was the final day of his vacation, and he knew he was prepared to face Tyler that evening when he returned to Seattle—eager, in fact. A dozen ideas for new songs were already tumbling through his head. None of the new songs sounded a bit like the work The Local Youths had done in the past. These pieces, though still half-formed and unrefined, were of a new breed—and would be made for Davis Steen alone. So much about the new work remained sketchy in his imagination—the fragmentary lyrics, the partially realized chord progressions. Yet still, Davis could sense that the new material would build a strong, sturdy raft on which to launch his solo career. Even in their unwritten states, each of his new songs felt fully formed within his mind and heart. And why shouldn’t they feel that way? Davis had a gorgeous, dark-haired muse to guide him now, and her hand was always steady on the helm.

He heard the rumbling of the
Coriolis
’s tender approaching across the water. Davis gently shook Jordan awake. They were both naked, having fallen back into bed after their tender confessions on the deck the night before. The lovemaking they’d shared on that second round had been even more intense than before—so powerful that Davis could still feel the sweet, burning thrill of it thrumming along his veins. Now that he and Jordan had admitted their love—now that they looked forward to their future together—a sea of passion seemed to flow between them.

He kissed her gently on her soft, smooth cheek. “Storm and Emily are almost back.”

Jordan rose and dressed without haste, without embarrassment. Davis joined her, touching her and holding her even as she pulled on her clothes. He was unable to keep his hands off her warm skin, her alluring form.

“What do you think the crew will do when they realize what went on here?” he asked.

Jordan only laughed, all shame at her own spontaneity gone. She said, “If either of them has a problem with it, I can always make them walk the plank. I am the captain, after all.”

They went up on the deck together and stood waiting in the cockpit beside the great wooden wheel of the helm. As Storm and Emily climbed up from the tender, the first thing they saw was Davis and Jordan—holding hands.

Emily’s big, blue eyes grew even wider. “Well! Looks like you two have set aside your differences.”

“Looks like it,” Jordan said.

The smiling crew set to work, readying the
Coriolis
for its final day of sailing. Jordan seemed more confident and self-assured than ever before as she took her place at the helm, calling out commands to Emily and Storm, gazing out across the water in anticipation of another day of sailing. Every time she caught Davis’s eye, she smiled—and she looked even more beautiful than she ever had before.

“We’ll be back in Griffin Bay by four o’clock,” Jordan told her crew when the anchor was secured and the diesel engine was purring down below. “After we’ve seen Davis off, I’ll need your help cleaning up the boat.”

“Can’t it wait?” Storm asked. “It’s been ten whole days!”

“Yeah,” Emily added. “We can clean up tomorrow, can’t we?”

“It can’t wait if we’re going to take on more charters. The season is in full swing now. There’s lots of sailing to be done, and lots more business to capture.”

Storm cast a hopeful look at Emily, then said to Jordan, “So you’re not going to shut down the business?”

“No, but you guys may not recognize your new captain,” Jordan said, laughing. “She’s a lot less stuffy. More… spontaneous. And maybe a little more willing to cut her clients some slack.”

Emily squealed and bounced on her toes. “Yes! I knew you’d come around.”

Davis put his arm around Jordan as the
Coriolis
nosed out toward open water. “I’m so glad you’re going to keep on sailing.”

“Me too.”

“It’s what you were meant to do.”

She smiled at him, eyes shining. Then she kissed him, right in front of everybody.

“Hey-o,” Storm yelled. “The captain has already gone wild! Hold onto your butt, Emily. This is going to be one hell of a summer.”

“I can’t wait,” Emily said. “Hey, Captain, where are we heading today?”

Jordan shrugged and grinned at Davis. “I don’t know! But raise the jib, you two—and get Davis up there to help you. Today we’re going wherever the wind takes us.”

Davis hurried to join Storm at the lines. He hauled as he was directed, and with a sustained hiss the high, triangular sail at the front of the boat raised like a banner of victory against the bright-blue sky. It rippled in the breeze for a moment, then caught the gentle wind with a thump as loud and resonant as a bass drum. Jordan cut the engine, and the
Coriolis
leaned
as it headed out over the sea, speeding toward the unknown.

Davis let out a yell of pure exhilaration as the salt-laden wind whipped his hair and stung his eyes. He was flying, sure and fast, toward a bright horizon. Behind him, at the helm, he could hear Jordan laughing.

EPILOGUE

J
ordan dropped into her reserved, VIP seat in the front row of the theater. Storm and Emily settled to her right, and her brothers Carter and West settled in the seats to her left. She sighed when her butt hit the seat. She hadn’t been back to Seattle for weeks, and she’d forgotten how much the busy, loud city stressed her out. She longed to be back in the marina at Griffin Bay, polishing up the brightwork on the
Coriolis
, tending to its lines and canvas. There was no comparable peace to be found here in the big city, but even so, Jordan wouldn’t have missed tonight’s show for anything in the world.

A wildly successful summer had allowed her to invest more money and time in Sea Wolf Charters. She had added a new boat to her fleet, and three more crew members, too. But the new boat needed plenty of work before it would be ready for the upcoming charter season. It was March now—a little more than nine months since she had fallen in love with Davis Steen. She had only three more months to get the new boat seaworthy. As she thought of all the work it needed, she bit her thumbnail and bounced her heels nervously against the theater floor.

Emily leaned across Storm and said to Jordan, “Stop thinking about the new boat! We’re here for your boyfriend, so you are officially cut off from all business dealings—even inside your head.”

“I wasn’t thinking about the new boat!”

“You were, too. I can always tell when you’re thinking about boats.”

Carter, Jordan’s twin brother, laughed mockingly on her left. “True. Jordan has a dead-giveaway Boat Face.”

She punched her twin in his arm.

West, second-oldest of her brothers, added, “She gets almost as googly-eyed thinking about boats as she gets thinking about Davis.”

“Ugh,” Jordan said. “I’d punch you, too, but you’re too far away.”

Despite her brothers’ teasing, she was glad they were with her tonight—and Storm and Emily, too. Davis had asked Jordan to bring her whole family to the concert—his very first show since going solo, and the big debut of all his brand-new songs, which would finally be available to the public tonight. The solo album dropped at midnight, and Jordan was sure she was even more nervous about it than Davis was. This was a big night for him—huge; the ultimate test of his career. If tonight’s show and album release went well, his future as a solo artist would be secured.

Davis had worked so hard on the new material, and had focused so completely on the business side of his career that even Tyler had nothing to complain about. Sky Records was as confident as they could be that Davis Steen’s new lone-wolf persona would be a big hit. But the proof was in tonight: in this crowd’s reception of the concert and the album.

As they waited for the show to start and Jordan tried to calm the butterflies swarming in her stomach, she thought about how sweet it was that Davis had wanted her whole family to attend. Over the nine months of their semi-long-distance relationship, Davis had relished his chances to get to know the Griffin clan whenever he’d come to San Juan Island for a visit. He had struck up a strong friendship with West, and his high coolness quotient had even earned Carter’s approval. He had charmed the socks off of Jordan’s mom and impressed her dad with his serious approach to his music career. The others had grown fond of him, too—Reed and Tabitha trusted Jordan to make good decisions, so they had taken an immediate liking to Davis. And Eden, the baby of the family, was instantly drawn to Davis just because of his profession. Eden had a distinct taste for adventure, and she assumed—rightly, Jordan had to admit—that a rock star attached to the family would provide plenty of new opportunities for wild times.

Jordan wished the whole family could have made it to Davis’s concert—for her sake, if not for his. She was so apprehensive about the show that she was almost ready to throw up… or stand up in her seat and shriek like a maniac from the sheer anxiety of waiting. On all her visits to Seattle, she had watched Davis rehearse and even sat in on a few of his meetings with Tyler. She knew how much the label had invested in Davis’s new career. There was so much at stake for everybody involved. She bounced her heels again, faster this time, and chomped down harder on her fingernail. If she could only have held her mom’s hand or cracked jokes with her dad—it would have gone a long way toward calming her down. But other business had kept most of her family on the island. Besides, there just weren’t enough VIP tickets to go around. Jordan hoped Davis wasn’t too disappointed that only a few of the Griffins could attend.

Finally the lights dimmed and the crowd screamed. From a few rows back, a chant began—
Da-vis! Da-vis! Da-vis!
It spread throughout the theater and thudded inside Jordan’s chest along with her heart. Emily reached across Storm to grab Jordan’s hand, squeezing it hard, and Carter put his arm around her shoulders.

Davis walked out onto the stage, dazzling and distinct in the cool blue of a single spotlight. He looked so stunning Jordan could hardly breathe—confident and gorgeous in that simple, white t-shirt and his black skinny jeans. He had nothing with him but his guitar and his attitude, bold and perfectly self-assured. He walked to a single stool that stood before a lone microphone and sat casually, as if he’d been doing solo shows his whole life.

He launched right into the first song without a word to the audience, letting his music speak for itself. The rich, full chords rang out across the audience, and between scattered cheers and whistles, Jordan could feel their surprise—their awe—at his new sound, complex and heartfelt, powerful in its restraint. She had heard him play this tune countless times over the past nine months, but now, seeing him perform it live—seeing the depth of feeling he put into it—Jordan felt turned inside out by the music. This sound was nothing like the Local Youths, and the audience clearly knew it. Davis wasn’t the performer he had been before. But this man who played for them now, all alone in the blue light with just his music to offer, was the man he truly was inside, all the way down to the center of his being. Jordan knew that man well by now—knew him and loved him.

When the song finished, there was a moment of silence while the audience processed a Davis Steen who was totally different from the musician they thought they knew. Jordan held her breath, and just when the tension of waiting seemed unbearable, the audience erupted into applause. Davis beamed out at them. He was a hit, and he knew it. His future was secure.

When the cheering died down a little, Davis handed his guitar to a roadie and stood up at the mic.

“Thank you! Wow, did you guys like that new song, or what?”

The theater shook with their thunderous approval.

“Man, that’s good to hear. Listen, everybody… I hope you guys will indulge me for a minute.” The audience
woo
ed in agreement. “I have something really important I need to do.”

Davis stared down into the seats at the foot of the stage, searching past the footlights, into the darkness beyond. His eyes found Jordan’s and he smiled. “Jordan, will you come up here, please?”

She stared at Emily and Storm, her mouth hanging open.

Carter gave her a little shove. “Get up there, goofball!”

On numb feet, Jordan stumbled up to the security guards at the foot of the stage. They conducted her to a small side stair. She couldn’t even feel her body as she climbed up onto the stage. She seemed a thousand miles away from herself, watching this scene unfold from another world, another dimension. Jordan had never been in front of an audience before. Even with the house lights down, size of the space, and all the people it contained, scared her. But she focused resolutely on Davis and went to him eagerly, drawn by his familiar smile.

They took each other’s hands and stood that way for a moment, lost in one another’s eyes despite the audience that hooted and applauded.

Finally Davis said into the mic, “Hey, everybody. Let me introduce you to my amazing girlfriend, Jordan.”

Again the audience
woo
ed.

“She got me on the right track and helped me reinvent myself. I owe her a lot. You wouldn’t be at this show tonight, hearing all these new songs, if it weren’t for Jordan. I don’t think I can ever repay her for that, but I can try.”

Davis reached into his pocket. Jordan’s heart pounded; her head felt so light she thought it might float away. As Davis grabbed the mic from its stand and went down on one knee, the crowd’s screams seemed to fill the whole world. Then they receded, and all Jordan could hear was the pounding of her pulse in her ears.

Davis looked up at her earnestly. “Jordan, will you make me the luckiest man in the world, and marry me?”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. This was too much—being up on a stage, in front of God knew how many screaming fans. For a moment the old Jordan reared up and babbled in her head,
Absolutely not! This is not the kind of thing I do!
An on-stage proposal was not something Jordan Griffin ever thought she would have to face. Over the nine months of their spotty dating, Jordan had only grown to love Davis more. But in all that time, she had never considered
marrying
him.

Evidently he
had
considered it. Though not for very long, Jordan felt sure. This was just like Davis, to be so wild and crazy, to jump into something without really thinking about it.

Jordan couldn’t just say yes—there was too much to ponder, too many questions to ask and too many answers to search for. There were too many variables to consider, too many plans to make!

Davis laughed as he stared up at her. She could see from the affectionate look in his eyes that he knew
exactly
what was going through her head. He moved the mic away and said, just for her, “Wherever the wind takes us. Remember?”

Remembering the snap of the
Corilolis
’s jib on that bright June morning, Jordan finally allowed herself to let go of her fears. With a surge of gladness, she fell feet-first, right into the moment. She covered her mouth with her hand, fighting back tears of joy. Sure, this was wild and unplanned. But if her relationship with Davis had taught her anything, it had taught her that a little unpredictability was a good thing, in moderation. And she
loved
Davis—what more did she need to know? If Jordan was going to go where the wind blew her, there was no one she trusted at her helm more than Davis Steen.

She grabbed the mic from his hand. “Yes!” she shouted.

The word had hardly rung out over the crowd before the wild celebration of Davis’s fans swallowed it up. Their joy roared in her ears as Davis stood and slid the ring onto her finger. But when he swept her into his arms and kissed her, right in front of the whole world, all Jordan could hear, all she could feel, was the beat of Davis’s heart against her own.