Storms of Passion (9 page)

“I’m available now,” Marston said, standing up so quickly the chair fell over behind him. “No need to wait.”

Vivian glanced around the table at the expectant faces. “Oh, I couldn’t.” She inhaled a deep breath. She wanted Tuck to be her tour guide, not Marston. Then a sudden thought struck her, who was Agnes? “Really, Tuck, I don’t want your wife, Agnes, going to any trouble.”

Lynette laughed. “Tuck, married? Oh, once, but that didn’t last, praise God.” She lifted her hands in the air. “As bad as that marriage was, we were all grateful when it ended.” His mother continued. “How we have tried to hook him up with some nice girls ever since, but no luck.”

Vivian chanced a look at Tuck to where he sat at the end of the table. She sympathized with Tuck’s mortification. His face, previously animated, was a solid unmoving mask, and his eyes stared out the window in a glazed fashion as Lynette prattled on.

“Nathaniel has a beautiful wife and two kids, my grandkids. The nicest you’ll ever meet. Agnes is the housekeeper. She’s been with us for years. But listen to me going on and on.”

“Yes.” Tuck shook his head. “Too much information, mother.”

Lynnette turned to her son, her cheeks flushing. The older woman drew an audible breath as if she realized she had been jabbering. She turned back to Vivian. “I insist you go with Tuck and have a good time.”

Chapter Six

When Vivian had been preparing for her trip, she did what every single, independent woman embarking on an adventure would do—she went shopping. She had searched, scanned, and researched what to wear while sailing. It was important to get the wardrobe first. Once she had the look down everything else would follow. She considered her options. White bottoms, or solid colors like a navy blue. Would it be capris, shorts, or a skort? A striped top, preferably blue or red, complimented by a trendy scarf, if one can be managed, topped with hat and completed with boat shoes. White rubber-soled shoes, no socks. Today, she wore a dark blue polo shirt edged in white piping with her white skort and open-toed sandals.

Randy turned out to be completely adorable. He looked like an ancient hippy. Tall, perhaps the same height as his son, but thinner than Tuck, who was broader, more barrel-like across the chest. Randy’s air of friendliness matched his wife.

“Young lady,” he said as he showed her around the wharf. “I’m Randy today, but call me Captain MacLean when we are aboard the ship. Captain for short will suffice.

She could tell where Tuck got that easy gait of his. Randy was easy to like, almost completely grey with a bushy beard that belied the existence of any lips with a ready grin. Vivian was sure if he saw a hurricane on the horizon, it wouldn’t faze him one bit. Randy would probably take charge and lead people without them even knowing they were being led to safety. He and Lynette were two peas in a pod.

Taking his leave, Randy left the administration of going through the schedule and expectations to Nathaniel, who preferred to be called Nate. He, on the other hand, was all business. He and Tuck were similar in appearance, but had different personalities. Being a strong arm in his approach, Nate cautioned the guests that although they would be sailing with experienced men, everyone would be expected to pull their weight and do their part. “I know you have all paid for the experience, but safety is the name of the game when we’re out at sea. Expect the unexpected as it were. Pay attention, follow our instruction, be prepared, and most important…enjoy yourselves.”

Seven would-be sailors gathered in the warehouse. Ethel had already provided Vivian with their names, but this was the first time she had an opportunity to meet everyone. They were older couples who probably had every other kind of vacation imaginable and decided it was time to taste the sea. The couples seemed rather nice, and maybe a little mistrustful of the lone woman. The women were prissier than Vivian expected. She would guess it was likely the men doing most of the sailing while their wives chatted, but she remembered to not judge, for they probably wondered about her as well.

As a group, they would start tomorrow morning on the schooner moored off the wharf, working lines, learning knots, and the general terminology of sailing. Vivian placed her hand flat across her stomach, feeling the butterflies dance. She glanced around at the couples. They could lean on one another, but she had no one. The butterflies stopped.

Intense in his address, Nate made her question her motivation in pursuing the adventure.
Can I really do this?
She hoped so. She definitely didn’t want to look like a fool.

Vivian was the last to file out of the warehouse after the couples had left. Randy, who had been scraping barnacles from the hull of a small boat, approached her. “Aghh, that’s a younger man’s job for sure.” He laughed, causing his bushy beard to gyrate. He stepped in beside Vivian. “I’ll walk you back to the house.”

“Thank you. I would like that.”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing,” he said, as if sensing her nervousness. “You’ll catch on right fine, you will. We’ve had some real doozies come through here and if we can teach
them
the basics of sailing, I am quite sure you will do just fine.” He tapped her shoulder. “I understand our Tuck will be showing you the sights this afternoon.”

“Yes.” Heat rose to her cheeks, despite her will to remain composed.

Randy took no notice of her discomposure. “Get him to take you to the Old Water Wheel. It may not look like much, but it’s the best seafood around.”

“Oh, Tuck is having Agnes prepare a lunch, but I don’t want to be any trouble.” Just thinking about spending the afternoon with a sexy man, who looked exactly as she imagined a man born of the sea, caused goose bumps to tickle her arms. His straight brows, clear eyes, and powerful build represented a man use to being in charge. Relief filled her when she heard he was single.

“Phhh.” Randy’s gravelly voiced retuned her attention. “That’s lunch. I’m talking a nice supper.”

“I’m sure Ethel…” The words died on her lips as she spotted Tuck striding toward them. He wore a blue striped shirt, casually opened at the collar and the sleeves rolled to just above the elbows.
Computer techie maybe, but definitely not a geek
. Vivian’s eyes were drawn to him like a magnet despite her best effort to ignore the pull he seemed to exude.
Abercrombie and Fitch beware. Here’s your next poster boy.

When he saw her, his easy smile drew her closer still. Dazzling white teeth sheathed behind lips she wanted to bite.
Where did that come from?

“There you are.” Tuck handed her a motorcycle helmet.

“You seem to be in good hands.” Randy gently patted her hand and continued walking toward the porch. “Tuck, I told her you would take her to the Old Wagon Wheel.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t let me down, son.” He gave his son a meaningful look before winking at Vivian.

****

After his father went inside the house, Tuck turned to Vivian, her peachy skin colored a lovely pink.
Beautiful.

“Do you ride?” He asked when Vivian seemed apprehensive of the helmet in her hands. The question and uncertainty in her green eyes spoke volumes and pulled at his heart in an unexpected way.

“I’ve always wanted to when I was a kid, but no, I never did. I don’t think…”

“Don’t think then.” Tuck smiled. “I use to think too much and you don’t even want to know where that got me. Over-thinking kills all the fun.”

A memory of his mother’s monologue this morning about his failed marriage twisted in his gut, but he quelled the frustration knowing she didn’t mean any harm, only got carried away.

“You know, you’re right.” Vivian nodded and plunked the helmet on her head.

Silence descended like a thick fog. Tuck tore his stare away from her mesmerizing eyes. “I’ll get the bike.”

She laughed, fidgeting as if nervous. “I guess that would help.”

He led the way back up the drive, and lifted the bike from its stand. “Get on.” He patted the seat behind him while fastening his own helmet.

****

The big machine rumbled to life.
Sitting so close to Tuck was invigorating and intimate. They rode down the winding coastal road passing occasional traffic in no real hurry. It was an experience unlike any other. Another first for Vivian. The bike propelled like the wind along the roads following the edge of the coastline. The turns were so sharp with their speed being just a touch faster than safe, Vivian focused on not falling off as she leaned into the bend.

A little shy and unsure at first, she hung onto the back of her seat for support.

He lifted a hand from the handlebar to point to his waist. “It’ll be easier if you hang on to me.”

Self conscious about wrapping her arms around a near stranger, Vivian hesitated, but after another bend in the road, her thumping heart got the better of her and she quickly gripped Tuck’s hips. With the safety of his body against hers, she was less frightened and her misgivings of bike riding were quickly swept away. Weaving back and forth on the winding road seemed to mirror the movement of the ocean.

“It’s breath taking.” Vivian sighed when they arrived at the end of a pier near a lighthouse. “I imagined this view so many times, but actually seeing it is totally different.”

“Wait ’til you’re out on the sea. Everything is different from that perspective. Rocks and crags that you climb over on land can be both a home coming and a grave yard.”

Her eyes went wide. “What do you mean?”

“Take those rocks you see jutting out above the waves just beyond the pier.”

Tuck pointed, and she held her hand over her eyes for shade from the sun.

“A home coming. Land ho. That sort of thing. Now imagine a stormy night. Think fog so thick you can’t see your hand before your face. Freezing, pelting rain, just bone chilling. You know you’re close to land, but you can’t yet see it because of the fog and bam.”

He cracked his fist into the palm of his hand, causing her to jump.

“You rip the hull of your vessel. Just like that and down you go. That’s why lighthouses and buoy’s are so important. They provide markers, indicators of dangers along the coastal line.”

“But the sailors would be so close to land, surely they’d swim to shore.” Raising her hand to her brow again, Vivian peered over the water to the distant, jutting rocks that now reminded her of razor blades waiting to strike

Tuck moved around the bike to remove a blanket from the back. “Nah, sailors don’t swim. Shall we picnic here?”

“Yes. This would be nice.” She hesitated. “They don’t swim? They don’t even try?”

“Oh, I’m sure when push comes to shove, they try. It’s almost like a superstition. You may think sailors know how to swim, but many of them, of ages gone by and perhaps even today, can’t swim. They don’t want to learn how to swim.”

“Why? That seems a little crazy to work the sea and not know how to protect yourself.”

“It’s a superstition for them. If they can’t swim, the sea will take them fast. If they could swim, they would suffer.”

Settling on the blanket and enjoying a fresh egg salad sandwich on thick-cut homemade bread, Vivian gazed out to sea. She pondered his words. “Can you swim?”

“Ah, yes, I can.” Tuck grinned. “Somewhat.”

Something cocky in his tone caught her attention. She turned to stare at his merry grey eyes. “You say that like it’s a foregone conclusion.”

“Sorry, it’s just that swimming for me is part of me. I was—correction, trying again to be a rescue swimmer with the Coast Guard. When I was younger it paid for University. I’ve been away from it for a while, but now that I’m back, it’d be weird if I wasn’t part of it. I’m a reservist. I have to get back in shape. I can’t very well be expected to save someone who’s depending on me if I can’t swim fast and true.”

Vivian eyes wandering down the length of his torso and to his legs, thrust out in front of him and crossed at the ankle.
He’s in fine shape to me.

As a diversion from her male starved cravings, Vivian loaded the conversation with questions on how he came to be a rescue swimmer.

He graciously answered each one. “People for the most part are complacent about the power of the sea.” He finished a second sandwich. “They think a weather forecast is all they need. It drives my family, and those in sea rescue, crazy. People go out for a good time, but they forget that between wind, the ocean currents, and the power of the sun things can change in a heartbeat. Out there…” He pointed in the direction of the waves crashing on the rocks. “If you’re not prepared, and even sometimes when you are prepared, bad things happen and lives are lost.”

A shutter filtered down her spine. “Now you sound like Nate. That’s just the kind of stuff he was talking about today. Made me wonder how I ever thought I could come to learn to sail.”

“Nah. Don’t question your choice. We have to through all the bad stuff first. To make sure everyone is aware of the dangers.” Tuck smiled, leaning closer to her, almost as if encouraging her to move closer. Her heart somersaulted in her chest. “The rules have been drilled into us since we first took breath.”

“I can imagine.” She released a breath, not realizing she had been holding it.

Leaning back, Tuck grabbed his saddlebags. “On that cherry note, let’s have desert.”

Vivian laughed and helped him unload the bag.

During the pleasant lunch on the pier, they watched the gulls circle, calling
mine, mine, mine
in their high pitched ritual, waiting for Vivian and Tuck to leave so they could pick at any crumbs left behind. Out in the water, Vivian would often see a fin break the surface once in a while. Tuck informed her they were blue fins or tuna. He explained how the blue fins would be in season soon and the lobster season was also open. “The markets will be full this year, which means money will roll in.”

“How so?”

“Don’t listen to the fishermen’s bellyaching. In just a few weeks, they can make what it takes most people a year to earn.”

“No kidding?”

“No kidding. It’s not easy money by any stretch. They certainly do work for it.” Tuck popped another homemade oatmeal cookie in his mouth and brushed the crumbs off his shirt. “Sometimes money earned that fast gets lost even quicker.”