That Thing Called Love (7 page)

The Ohio-class black nuclear submarine suddenly surfaced from the depths and they turned their attention to it. Nearly as long as two football fields, sleek as a shark and quieter than death, it was an impressive, ominous sight. “That doesn’t make me want to break into a chorus of ‘Yellow Submarine,’” Jake said, raising the Nikon D3 to his eye.

Max laughed. “No shit. But I never get tired of watching it. It’s like the Darth Vader of submarines. Strategic deterrence at its best.”

He lowered the camera long enough to shoot the other man a sardonic glance. “Spoken like a true soldier boy.”

“Wasn’t a soldier, sonny. I told you before, I’m a Marine.”

“Ex.”

Max snorted. “No such thing as an ex-Marine. Former, maybe, if you wanna be picky about it.”

“Whatever.” Jake shot a couple frames of Max, who immediately scowled at him. “So, tell me. I know there’s more than one of these subs stationed at Bangor—so why are they all called the Trident?”

A bark of laughter exploded out of Max. “For a guy with a bachelor of business from a fancy u—”

“I never actually got that degree,” he interrupted. “I interned with
National Explorer
my junior year, got a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to show my photography skills when their usual photographer was laid low with dysentery, and never went back to school.”

Max nodded. “Explains why you’re not the brightest bulb, I guess. None of the subs are named that. There’s eight of them out of Bangor, and except for the USS
Henry M. Jackson,
in honor of our late, great Senator Scoop Jackson, they’re all named after states. Alaska, Alabama, Nebraska—and who cares what all. Tridents are the missiles they’re packing.”

“Huh. Who knew?”

“Not you, obviously.”

A short while later the submarine submerged as quietly as it had come up, and Max abruptly morphed from fairly friendly for a guy who “wasn’t ever going to be your bud” to blank-faced deputy. He stepped back. “I’ve got work to do,” he said and pointed to where Jake’s SUV was blocking half an access that nobody was using. “Get that off the ramp,” he growled. Then without another word, he turned and strode up the slope in question to his rig.

Leaving Jake with an inexplicable smile on his face.

* * *

W
ORRY
OVER
HIS
NONPROGRESS
with Austin had replaced the unexpected moment of good humor by the time he got back to the inn. He headed straight for Jenny’s office.

He heard her voice before he reached it. “...forecasting staff needs for next week, and I need to set up a meeting with you before you leave for the day to discuss doing one of those Groupon or LivingSocial discounts. Reservations will get the immediate brunt of extra work,” she said, then laughed. “Well, if it does what I’m hoping, at any rate. What’s a good time for you?”

He stopped in the open doorway. Jenny sat facing the door, but twisted slightly to the left as she glanced back and forth between a weekly planner and a spreadsheet laid across the desk, the phone receiver wedged between her ear and a hunched shoulder. Light from the overhead fixtures and the lamp on her desk detailed the creamy curve of high cheekbones and picked out the sheen of her dark hair on either side of her center part. She’d tucked the long layers behind her ears, and they tumbled over the girly, not-quite-but-damn-near sheer fabric of her little black blouse, their blunt ends curving slightly in alternating lengths against the petite thrust of her breasts. He could almost distinguish the outline of a black bra beneath the top.

If he didn’t mind giving himself eyestrain.

“Five o’clock is perfect,” she said. “I’ll see you then.” Hanging up the phone, she leaned forward, made a notation in the planner, then turned her attention to the worksheet.

He could have sworn he didn’t make a sound, but her head suddenly jerked up and she looked straight at him, eyes startled and slender fingers spread like starfish on the oversize spreadsheet. And for just an instant their gazes melded with a spark that wasn’t solely on his side.

His whole body perked up.

He didn’t get it. He’d come away from his relationship with Kari with a carved-in-stone belief that there was no such thing as true commitment and a determination to never again put himself in the position of testing that belief. From the age of eighteen, he’d chosen women who knew the score. They understood they’d have a good time but that any relationship with him had a finite shelf date.

Jenny was so not the cool, casual-sex kind he usually went for. Yet she still had a way of making his hormones come to attention and lock on her like heat-seeking missiles.

Eye on the prize, Bradshaw!
Shoving the attraction down where it belonged—in the subterranean depths of his mind—he stepped inside and for a second wasn’t sure where to start.

Her brow furrowed. “Are you okay? Can I do something for you?”

He walked over to her desk, spread his hands against its messy surface and leaned into them. His head drooped for a nanosecond before pride put some bone back in his spine. “He wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“Who wouldn—?” Jenny blinked. “Austin?” The breath she exhaled wasn’t one of those exasperated, big sighs that females excelled at, but it wasn’t exactly a “poor baby,” either. “And you think this is my problem why?” she asked drily. “I gave you an opportunity. What you did with it was up to you.”

“I know.” Noticing a luscious, amazing whisper of scent rising off her—a female aroma he could’ve happily gone all day without detecting—he straightened and took a step back. “I do know that. Damn.” Using one hand to massage the knot of tension from the back of his neck, he tried to explain. “It’s just—they got in the backseat.” He could see she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “Austin and Nolan, they got into the backseat like I was the damn chauffeur!”

The delighted laugh that rolled out of her lit her up like a little girl presented with a princess dress. But even as he was drawn to her unfettered enjoyment, even as he felt a spark of warmth take root low in his gut and high in his chest from the sound of her mirth, he found himself snapping, “It’s not funny!”

Amused appreciation for the boy’s tactics dropping from her face, Jenny’s laughter died even as her warm brown eyes sobered. “Yes,” she said quietly, “it actually is. It’s rebellious, yet polite, which has a certain creative charm. What
isn’t
funny is the fact that you ignored your son for thirteen years but expect him to get with your damn program in one week. Well, guess what, Bradshaw?”

She got up from her desk and circled it to the door. “It’s not all about you. So here’s an idea—quit expecting me to do your legwork for you, and try figuring out a few things for yourself.” She tapped the toe of one sexy high-heeled shoe against the carpet, her arms crossed beneath those cupcake breasts.

It couldn’t be any clearer she wanted him to leave, and his first impulse was to apologize for intruding and saunter past her as if her words hadn’t drawn blood.

Only...

She wasn’t wrong, dammit.

He hated to admit it, but avoiding the truth wouldn’t change the facts.

“Look, I don’t disagree,” he offered, stopping less than half a foot from her. “I’ve been expecting too much too soon, and relying on your efforts without putting enough of my own into the things I need to do to transition Austin from hating my guts to at least tolerating me. But it must be as painfully clear to you as it is to me that I’m crashing and burning here. So, if I promise to head back to my room—” even though the thought made him feel itchy and confined “—to put some serious thought into the matter, could you see your way clear to steering me in the right direction? Like...”
What, genius?
Then it came to him.
Duh.
“He played great in practice today, for instance, and I’d love to see him in action during his actual games. But I don’t know when they are.”

“I’ll make you a schedule,” she said, then hesitated. “And I
suppoooose
—” the word was drawn out with palpable reluctance “—it would be okay if you wanted to sit with Tasha and me at the next game.”

He grinned. “That would be
great!
Thank you.”

She gave him a little smile in return, free from the lack of enthusiasm she’d just displayed. For a moment he thought they might have an honest-to-God rapport.

Then Jenny stiffened. “Well. I need to get back to work. I’ll get you that schedule when I get a minute. Meanwhile—” she shot him an I-mean-business look “—get busy on more ideas. One-trick ponies only get you so far down the road.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I’m heading to my room to do that right this minute.” He supposed kissing her, even if only in gratitude for her help, probably wasn’t appropriate. He stepped back instead. “Thanks again.”

Her shoulders twitched. “Sure.”

Jake left her office, but only got as far as the hallway outside before he halted. He could not face going back to his room.

So, big deal, head outdoors. Or...

He snapped upright as two thoughts occurred to him. Not one, but two actual productive ideas. That made a total of three in the past few minutes.

He’d been concentrating too hard on the end goal instead of on the smaller steps that might get him there. Yes, he’d have to accomplish his first idea before he could think about implementing the second, but a faint, relieved smile quirked his mouth.

Because as he headed back toward the inn’s small lobby, he finally felt like his usual, competent self.

CHAPTER SIX

“H
EY
,
WOULD
YA
LOOKIT
THAT
?”

Jenny glanced over as Austin paused in his Saturday-morning dishwashing chore, which he’d been powering through with his usual slapdash, water splashed everywhere, let’s-get-this-done gusto, to lean into the window over the sink. She plucked a plate from the drainer and raised inquiring eyebrows as she dried it. “What am I looking at?”

He rocked back on his heels, turning to her. “Blue skies!” he crowed and grinned, his face alight. “I don’t know where it came from, ’cause it was, like, all clouded over two minutes ago. But,
dude!
”

“Dudette!”
she retorted.

The teen grimaced. “Sorry, Jenny. I forgot you don’t like me calling you that.” Then he laughed. “Know what else I’d almost forgotten?” He jerked his chin at the warm light outside the window. “What that looks like.”

“It’s certainly been a while since we’ve seen any sunshine.” And he was right, it was a huge mood elevator. She gave him a friendly hip bump. “I bet that’ll make your game more fun.”

“You got that right. This is gonna be righteous!”

The welcome break in the weather made them both a little giddy, and they joked back and forth as they finished cleaning the kitchen. Then as Austin squeezed the excess water from the sponge he’d used to wipe up the mess he’d made cleaning, he suddenly stiffened. “What the—? What is
he
doing in the Sand Dollar?”

“What?” Okay, so she’d heard him perfectly well. But hoping against hope that the “he” the boy referred to wasn’t actually the one person good sense reasoned it
had
to be, Jenny edged over to peer out the sink window, her heart beating a furious tattoo.

It only drummed harder when she saw Jake’s uptown SUV parked in the lot they shared with the most luxurious cottage on The Brothers’ grounds. Then she spied the man himself packing a big cardboard box up onto the covered front porch and through the open doorway into the dwelling.

The next thing she knew, Austin was charging out the back door. “Great,” she whispered and, tossing the tea towel aside, drew a couple of calming breaths before heading for the cottage across the way.

She climbed its three porch stairs in time to hear the anger infusing the teen’s every word as he yelled, “What are you doing here?” Walking into the Sand Dollar living room, she found him standing nose to nose with his father amid a plethora of boxes.

Found Jake placing his fingertips against his son’s chest and stepping back to put some space between them. Austin swiped them away with more force than was warranted, but the older man didn’t respond to his aggression. He merely glanced over at her, then directed his attention right back on the boy, his voice quiet when he replied equably, “Moving in.”

“Dude, I can see that! Why
this
cottage?”

“Because it’s the largest one available and I’m going to be here for a while. I need space to work—I left Indonesia in a hurry, and I’ve got close to a thousand photographs I need to download and go through so I can winnow out the best hundred. And whether I develop them or keep them digital, they’ll all need cleaning up before they’re ready for the
National Explorer
’s July issue.”

Austin snorted, but to Jenny’s relief, the explanation seemed to defuse some of his anger. “Big deal, how long can that take? You’ve got two friggin’ months.”

“No, I’ve got a hair over two weeks. They’re due the first week of May so the editors can select the ones they need for the edition. The exact number will change a dozen times while the layout’s being put together.” He stabbed a finger toward the ceiling. “There’s a little bathroom upstairs that I can use as a darkroom. I do less developing these days, but it’ll be handy for the ones that I do. And with the addition of some portable tables, the bedroom up there can be converted into a work space.”

“Whatever,” the boy said. “As long as you stay out of my way.”

“Yeah, well, about that.” Jake looked his son straight in the eye. “Not gonna happen.”

“Say what?” Austin started to bristle again.

Jake was contrastingly calm. “Like it or not, Austin, I’m your father.”

“I
don’t
like it!”

“Yet it doesn’t change the facts, any more than your displeasure would affect our green eyes or your ability as a shortstop, which you got from both me and your uncle Max.”

“Who?”

“Deputy Bradshaw.” Looking at the confusion on the teen’s face, Jake frowned. “
Annnd
...crap. You didn’t know he’s my half brother.”

Austin’s expression cleared. “Oh. Him. I know he’s your half brother and all, but it’s not like I’ve ever had anything to do with the dude.” His lip curled derisively. “Aside from seeing him at my games sometimes, Deputy Bradshaw’s been an uncle to me like you’ve been a dad.”

Jake let the dig roll off him. “That’s fair. He and I never had any kind of functional relationship, and the one time he tried to pursue one with you, Emmett and Kathy discouraged it. So why would you think of him as an actual relative?”

“Why didn’t you?” When Jake gave him an inquiring look, Austin clarified, “Have any kind of a relationship.”

It was the first interest his son had shown him, and Jake looked tempted to take a side trip down that alley. But he shook his head. “Look, it’s a long, complicated story that I’ll be happy to tell you some other time. But first
we
need to get to know each other.”

“You’ve had years to get to know me,” Austin snapped. “You didn’t and I’m not interested now.” Turning away, he said to Jenny, “I’m taking my boat out.”

She glanced at Jake, who shrugged. Taking that for a willingness to shelve the conversation, if only for the moment, and figuring that Austin had probably had enough upset for one day anyhow, she didn’t argue. “One hour,” she said. “Get your head together, then get back here. You’ve got a game to play this afternoon.”

He nodded and headed for the door.

“I know I’ve been a lousy father,” Jake said to his retreating back. “But I’m here now and I’m trying to do better. I’m not going away, Austin.”

A slight hesitation slowed the boy’s step. Then he muttered, “Great,” and picked up his pace.

Marching out the door, he slammed it closed behind him.

Jake turned to her. “That went well.”

She just blew out a breath.

He moved closer to her. “Did I hear right? He has a boat?”

“Yes.”

“Of his
own?
”

She nodded.

“What are we talking about here? Please tell me it’s a kayak or something else reasonably small.”

“Sure. If you consider a nineteen-foot Bayliner Bowrider reasonable.”

“Are you shi—” He visibly swallowed the obscenity. But his eyes were hot when he said, “He’s thirteen! That’s ludicrous.”

Jenny shrugged, but couldn’t say she disagreed. She’d argued and
argued
with Emmett about giving the boat to Austin on his thirteenth birthday. “The Pierces had a tendency to spoil him.”

“Tell me about it,” he muttered. “They did the same thing with Kari, and I’m here to tell you it didn’t help her learn to stand on her own two feet. She was totally unprepared for the first bump in her road.” He grimaced. “Not that teenage pregnancy isn’t one hell of a bump. Still, I married her and she had her parents’ full support—that’s more than a lot of girls in that situation end up with.”

For a second Jenny simply gaped at him. She’d known he’d been married to the Pierces’ daughter, of course. Yet with a jolt, she realized her view of him was colored by Emmett and Kathy’s disdain for his quick departure after Kari’s death to take the full scholarship he’d earned to Columbia, and the fact that he’d apparently never looked back. She’d never considered that he had stepped up, even if only for a while. Emmett and Kathy had never emphasized that—or the fact that he’d been only a teenager himself.

Then she closed her lips. Because even if there was more to the story, it certainly didn’t make up for his years of neglect toward Austin. But it
was
probably good to remember that neither was he the complete monster she’d spent an eon believing him to be.

Jake gazed at her, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. “What, not quite the story you heard?”

Her back stiffened. “I knew you’d married the Pierces’ daughter.”

“Did anybody mention that nobody forced me to? It was the right thing to do, so I gave up my dream of Columbia and took a job here at the front desk.”

That she hadn’t known. It must have been quite a comedown to sacrifice the scholarship he’d obviously worked hard to achieve to accept a job at the inn that had to have been much less rewarding.

“After Kari died, it was Emmett’s idea that I accept the scholarship after all.”

She hadn’t known that, either. Still... “Was it his idea as well that you never come back for your son once you left?”

“No.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. “That’s entirely on me.”

She wondered at what point he’d changed from the boy who had done the right thing to the one who had vanished from Austin’s life. Had it been when his wife died? And how devastated had that left him?

Smart enough to keep her curiosity to herself, she turned to him with her brisk, efficient general-manager face firmly in place. “I’ll leave you to unpack.”

She couldn’t quite keep her puzzlement from showing, however, as she looked at all the boxes and shopping bags that littered the living area. So instead of leaving, she asked, “Where did all this stuff come from? Did you make a trip to Kitsap?”

“No.” He picked up a large, heavy-looking box containing tubs and cans and jugs and pouches, all of which shifted and clinked together as he settled it on his shoulder. “Kitsap and Bremerton didn’t have what I needed,” he said. “I had to go to Tacoma.”

Eyeing him as he stood hipshot, one tanned arm lifted to hook his fingers against the top edge of the box, pinning it against the epaulet of the khaki bush-shirt he wore, she could easily picture him in some faraway land of heat and dust. Indicating his load, she said, “Is that photography stuff?”

“Developing solutions,” he said and jerked his jaw toward some of the big boxes bearing UPS labels. “Those contain equipment from my home studio that I didn’t want to have to run around trying to duplicate—”

On this podunk peninsula,
whispered the subtext through Jenny’s head.

“—so I had my assistant send it to me.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’re very busy,” she said with a careful lack of attitude.

But maybe she wasn’t entirely successful at keeping her thoughts to herself, because he filled the small distance she’d put between them. He looked down at her, his dark brows inching toward his nose. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“No, of course not.” She stepped back. Then stood taller. Because what was she, a mind reader? “At least—it’s nothing. When you talked about not wanting to run around duplicating your equipment, I took the teeny-tiniest tone in your voice and turned it into something you probably didn’t even mean.” She waved a dismissive hand. “In any case, none of my business. And as I said, I’ll leave you to it.”

But he came near enough that, between his muscular body, the big box still balanced on his shoulder and the other containers strewn across the floor, she felt hemmed in. Warmth and a barely-there musky scent, rimmed with an edge of salt, pumped off his skin.

“What did you think I meant?”

She made a face, but repeated the words that had drifted through her mind.

He looked down at her with searching eyes and a slight, one-sided smile. But he didn’t say a word.

As one second stretched into the next, heat began to crawl up her neck. She took another step back. “I told you, I probably twisted your meaning.”

“No,” he said slowly, “you’ve got scarily good instincts.”

She stopped with her left heel raised to retreat farther yet. “I’ve—” She gave her head a little shake to clear it. “What?”

“You’re right.” His free shoulder twitched. “That pretty much sums up my attitude.”

She’d never had much of a poker face, and her expression must have shown her immediate spike of temper, because he said, “Look, it’s not an indictment of your choices—only of my own. I spent most of my days in Razor Bay plotting ways to get out of it, so it’s not like I suddenly think I’m too cool for this place because I’ve traveled the world or lived in more cosmopolitan cities. I appreciate that small-town life has a lot to offer. It just never has for me. This town’s always made me antsy.”

She inhaled through her nose and consciously uncurled her fingers from the fists they’d formed.
Fine.
Not everyone had to like the same things.

Jenny blew out a breath because—oh, hell—they really didn’t. She gave him a nod. “I can’t say that I get it,” she acknowledged, “because for me Razor Bay has always meant acceptance—something I failed to get in the big city where I lived before moving here.” She forced a shrug, even though she still felt unaccountably...disappointed.

But that was ridiculous and she shook it off. “So, different strokes, I guess.”

He looked down at her. Slicked his tongue across his bottom lip. “Yeah. We’ll have to agree to disagree.”

Dammit, why did she look at him and think
sex on the hoof?
It wasn’t like the guy went around shirtless, which, okay, she wouldn’t mind seeing, or performed a blatant tongue thrust-and-wag like some cosmetics-heavy Gene Simmons from the old rock band KISS. But,
man.
He just really tripped her buzzer.

And wasn’t that the height of unfairness, all things considered?

She put some snap in her spine and, with a stride that was decisive and in command this time, took a definitive step back.

Right into one of the many boxes crowding the living area.

“Crap!” She windmilled her arms for balance, but the backs of her knees buckled on contact and she knew in an instant she was going to fall on her ass.