The Laws of Attraction (5 page)

Josh stared at her. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. Fine,” she said at once, putting on a brave smile to prove it.

She was reasonably convincing, but Josh wasn’t buying it. She might be physically fine, but there was something else going on, something that had to do with this vacation she was taking with such obvious reluctance. Her sisters had alluded to it last night.

“Maybe you should come aboard,” he suggested, not liking the idea of her being on the water alone when she was obviously shaky. On closer inspection, he thought he detected traces of dried tears on her cheeks. Maybe if he focused on her turmoil, he could put off his own decisions.

“I have my kayak,” she protested.

“We can tie it up to the boat.” He gestured toward the paddle that was drifting rapidly away. “You won’t get far without that paddle, anyway.”

“Story of my life lately,” she muttered, but she held out her hand to take his, then managed to gingerly climb into the rowboat. “You’re very brave, you know.”

“For taking you in like this?”

“Exactly. I’m obviously a danger to myself and everyone around me.”

“Something tells me that’s a relatively new condition,” he said, keeping his gaze away from her, hoping she would feel free to tell him what was going on that had her behaving with what he suspected was uncharacteristic carelessness.

“I suppose,” she conceded.

To his disappointment, she stopped right there. He decided not to press. Instead he asked, “Know how to bait a hook?”

She regarded him skeptically. “With what?”

“Shrimp.”

She nodded. “That’s okay, then. If you’d said worms, I’d have jumped overboard and swum home.”

“Squeamish, huh?”

“No, absolutely not,” she said at once, rising to the challenge with predictable indignation.

“Some sort of animal-rights stance?” he taunted.

A faint flicker of amusement lit her eyes for the first time since they’d met.

“Hardly,” she said. “They’re just…I guess messy describes it.”

“Then I can assume you won’t be cleaning any fish we catch for supper?”

“I don’t expect to catch any,” she said, even as she gingerly dangled the baited hook over the side of the boat, then studied the line with total concentration. After a minute, she glanced at him and asked, “Do you do this every day?”

“Every day I can. I get some of my best thinking done out here on the bay.”

“You’re not bored?” she asked wistfully.

Josh bit back a grin. Maybe that was the trouble with Ms. Ashley D’Angelo. She didn’t know the first thing about relaxing. Even now on this beautiful fall day surrounded by some of the most glorious scenery on earth, she was obviously edgy and uptight.

He studied her intently for a minute, trying not to let his gaze linger on those endless bare legs. He certainly couldn’t spot any other flaws. Maybe he could help her work on the relaxation thing.

“I’m never bored,” he told her. “I like my own company.”

“No significant other?”

“I’ve been seeing a woman,” he admitted. “But I’ve just recently reached the conclusion that she’s not significant. She’s a great woman, just not right for me. We broke it off last night.”

“Last night?” she asked, obviously startled.

“I called her after I got home from dinner at your sister’s.”

She seemed to be wrestling with that information. He waited to see if she’d ask if there was a connection, but she didn’t.

After studying him with undisguised curiosity, she eventually asked, “How did you conclude that the relationship was over?”

“I was faced with fishing or cutting bait, so to speak. It was time to get married…or not. I couldn’t see myself with her forever. Fortunately, as it turned out, she couldn’t see that, either.”

“Is there something wrong with her?”

“Absolutely not. She’s beautiful, intelligent, well-connected. She’ll be a dream wife for the right man.”

“But not you?”

“Not me,” he confirmed.

“If beautiful, intelligent and well-connected aren’t right for you, then what kind of woman do you want?”

“I’m still figuring that out,” he admitted. “Offhand, though, I’d have to say one who’s comfortable in her own skin, someone who knows who she is and what she wants.”

“And this woman isn’t like that?”

“She is.” He shrugged. “But the sparks weren’t there. Who knows why that happens? Seems to me that love is just as mysterious as all the philosophers have claimed it is.”

She seemed to deflate a little at that. If they hadn’t just met, Josh would have said she was actually disappointed.

“That whole bit about being comfortable with who and what you are would definitely let me out,” she said a little too brightly.

“Going through an identity crisis?” Josh asked, relieved to finally have something specific to work with to try to figure her out.

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“Welcome to the club.”

“You, too?”

Josh nodded. “But I’m not going to worry about it today. Neither should you. Relax and maybe the answers will come to you when your mind’s clear of all the clutter.”

“Relax?” she said again, as if it were a foreign concept.

Josh chuckled. “Like this,” he explained patiently. “Lean back.”

He waited until she’d followed his directions. “Okay, then. Now pull the brim of your hat down low to shade your eyes.”

She did that, her expression totally serious.

“Now close your eyes and concentrate on the water lapping against the side of the boat,” he suggested soothingly. “Feel the sun on your skin.”

She sighed. “It feels wonderful.”

“There you go. It’s all about getting in touch with yourself and letting everything else kind of drift away.”

She followed his advice as dutifully as if her life depended on it. He might have been amused, if there had been time. Unfortunately, a fish picked that precise moment to snag Ashley’s line, and the next thing he knew he had his arms around her waist and was hanging on for dear life as she tried to reel in the rockfish that was just as determined to get away.

He was all too aware of the soft, sun-kissed scent of her skin, of the way her muscles flexed as she worked
the line, of the softness of her breasts against his forearm. She was strong and fiercely determined not to be beaten by a fish. In fact, he had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling at the string of curses she muttered when she seemed to be losing the battle.

Only when the rockfish was finally flopping around in a bucket of salt water onboard, did Josh finally dare to meet her gaze. “Competitive, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea,” she murmured.

Josh nodded slowly. The revelations were coming bit by bit, each one adding to the enigma that was Ashley D’Angelo. Things were definitely going to get very interesting before he had a complete picture of this woman who was so triumphant about landing a fish.

And if the jangling of his pulse right now was any indication, this vacation of his might not turn out to be half as relaxing as he’d imagined.

“T
hat’s three for me,” Ashley announced triumphantly as she reeled in her third rockfish of the morning. She grinned at Josh. “And how many for you?”

He laughed, obviously not the least bit intimidated by her success. “None. I haven’t had the time. I’ve been too busy trying to get your fish in the boat without you going overboard. You really need to curb your enthusiasm just a little. A rowboat isn’t as stable as, say, a fishing pier. You can’t jump around on it.”

“That sounds like an excuse to me,” Ashley said, enjoying goading him. He refused to take her seriously. She supposed it was that
nice
thing again. He actually seemed happy that she was doing so well and having so much fun. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been around a man who wasn’t out to get the better of her.
Maybe that was because most of the men she knew were prosecutors. They tended to be driven, focused and devoid of humor.

“Now what?” she asked Josh, surprisingly eager for more of the kind of lighthearted banter and entertainment he was providing. She hadn’t thought about work for several hours now.

“We take them home and clean them,” he said. “The person who catches them is definitely responsible for cleaning them.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve done all the hard work,” she retorted. “We have these fish because of me. I think that makes it your job to clean them.”

“Excellent point,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said modestly.

He held up his hand. “However, and this is important, you did not reel them in entirely on your own. I did help.”

Ashley considered his claim. Fairness dictated that she acknowledge his role in the day’s catch. “I’ll give you that.”

“So we clean them together.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“How would you suggest we divvy up the labor?”

She thought it over. “You clean ’em. I’ll cook ’em. How about that?”

“Can you cook?”

She laughed. He had her there. Maggie was the cook in the family. “At least as well as you can fish,” she said eventually. “I’ll call Maggie. She’s the professional in the kitchen. I’m sure she can coach me through it.”

Of course, even as she uttered the words, Ashley knew what a bad idea it was to call her sister in on this.
She’d never hear the end of it. “Better yet, I’ll find a cookbook. There’s bound to be one at Rose Cottage. If I could pass the bar exam, I’m sure I can follow directions. How hard can it be?”

Josh held out his hand. “Deal.”

Ashley accepted his outstretched hand. “Deal,” she agreed, as her pulse did a little bump and grind at the contact. Her gaze sought Josh’s to see if he’d felt it, as well. With his cap pulled low over his eyes, it was impossible to read anything in his expression.

When they reached the dock at Rose Cottage, he tied up the rowboat, then stepped into the shallow water and secured her kayak.

After helping her from the boat, he picked up the bucket of fish and his cooler and headed for the house. “I’ll just put these inside, then head home to get cleaned up. What time do you want to have dinner?”

“Actually I’m starved now,” she admitted, surprised to find that it was true. Her stomach was actually growling. It must have something to do with the salt air and exercise. “Much as I appreciated it, that half sandwich you shared with me didn’t do the trick.”

“Same here. How about I come back in an hour? It shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes to row back to my place. That’ll leave plenty of time for me to shower and drive back. Anything you want me to pick up for dinner?”

Ashley thought about the contents of the refrigerator. She’d brought some things with her, and Maggie had seen to it that it was stocked with plenty of salad ingredients before her arrival. The only thing missing was dessert. Normally she was content with fresh fruit, but
the first full day of her vacation seemed to call for something decadent. If nothing else, it might demonstrate that she was starting to view this time-out as something worthy of celebration, rather than as punishment.

“Would you mind going to the bakery if there’s time?” she asked.

“Let me guess. You want chocolate,” he said, grinning.

“The richest, gooeyest chocolate they have,” she confirmed. “Brownies, cake, fudge, mousse—I’m not choosy.”

“And if the bakery’s closed?”

“Why would it be closed?”

“It’s almost five now.”

She stared at him in shock. It couldn’t be. “We spent the entire day on the water doing nothing?”

He laughed. “Pretty much. You got the knack for relaxing a lot quicker than I expected you to. The nap you took filled an hour or so.”

“I did not take a nap,” she protested. “I merely closed my eyes for a couple of minutes.”

“Whatever. Bottom line, the day has slipped away. Let me get going before any more of it slips by. I’ll do my best on the chocolate thing.”

She watched him go with an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d spent an entire day in the company of a man she barely knew, doing something that hadn’t exactly taxed her mind, and she hadn’t been bored. Not for a single second. Amazing.

She was still pondering that when she went inside and discovered the phone ringing. She debated ignoring it, but realized that would only bring her sisters rushing over here in a panic. She picked it up reluctantly.

“Where the devil have you been?” Maggie demanded at once. “I’ve been calling for hours. I was beginning to think you’d run back to Boston. Melanie was about to start packing so we could come after you.”

“I’ve been fishing,” she responded.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the activity in which a person puts bait on a hook, puts the hook in the water and reels in a fish. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work. It turns out I’m pretty good at it. I caught three rockfish.”

“Uh-huh,” Maggie said, clearly stunned. “When did you learn to fish?”

“Today.”

“Who taught you?”

Ah, there was that minefield she’d been dreading. “Josh,” she admitted. “I sort of ran into him on the water this morning.”

“Ran into him?”

“Literally,” she confessed. “I took the kayak out. When I slammed into his rowboat, I lost the paddle. He took me on board his boat.”

“As in kidnapped you or offered you refuge?”

“Refuge, I suppose.”

“I see. You sound surprisingly upbeat for a woman who has spent the entire day in the company of a man who supposedly annoys you, doing something that you wouldn’t have been caught dead doing a week ago.”

“Times change.”

“And your attitude toward Josh—has that changed, too?”

“I always said he was nice. He just got on my nerves last night at your place.”

Maggie laughed. “Oh, this is too good. I’m picking up Melanie and coming over. I want to hear more about this fishing excursion.”

“Forget about it,”
Ashley said emphatically.

“Why?”

“Because Josh is coming back for dinner. I’m cooking the fish.”

“You’re cooking the fish?” Maggie repeated so skeptically it was insulting.

“Yes, dammit. You could help and just tell me how. It’ll save me having to look up a recipe.”

“Who’s cleaning the fish?” Maggie asked.

“Josh.”

“Thank God. For a minute, I thought the world might be coming to an end.”

“Stop it. Are you going to help me out here or not, Maggie?”

“Okay, okay. You want simple or fancy?”

“What do you think?” Ashley asked wryly.

“Simple it is. Dredge the fillets in flour, salt and pepper, then fry them in about a quarter inch of oil. Make sure the oil is hot, but not too hot. You don’t want to burn the fish.”

Ashley jotted the instructions down, even though they seemed foolproof. “How long?”

“Till the flour is golden brown. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes on each side, depending on how thick the fillets are.”

“And that’s all there is to it?” Ashley asked, frowning at the simple directions. “You’re not leaving out anything critical, so I’ll wind up being totally embarrassed?”

“I would not let you humiliate yourself,” Maggie
said, sounding wounded by the suggestion. “This is an easy one, Ash. You’ll do fine. What else are you having?”

“Salad, and Josh said he’d pick up something for dessert.”

“Chocolate?”

“Yes, if you must know.”

“My, my. You don’t usually lay into the chocolate until you’re really, really comfortable with a man. Or under a lot of stress. Which is it, Ashley?”

“Go suck an egg. Josh is an easygoing guy. It’s no big deal. It’s not like it’s a date or something.”

“Really? Not a date? Just out of curiosity, what would you call it?”

“Dinner with a friend.”

Maggie chuckled. “Delusional, but nice. Have fun, big sister.”

She hung up before Ashley could reassert that her sister was way, way off base.

What was it with women and chocolate? Josh stared indecisively at the display case in the bakery. There was a chocolate layer cake, a chocolate mousse cake, two brownies with icing and walnuts, and eclairs topped with chocolate icing and filled with chocolate cream. They all looked decadent enough to him, but which one would satisfy Ashley? He had a hunch she was very particular.

“Decided yet?” the cheery young clerk asked him.

“Which is your favorite?”

She shrugged. “I like blueberry pie myself.”

Obviously she was going to be no help at all. He finally gave up in frustration. “I’ll take it all.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you having a party or something?”

“Not really.” He was pretty sure dinner with Ashley didn’t qualify as a party. He doubted she even saw it as a date.

To be honest, he hadn’t quite decided what this evening was all about, either. He just knew that he’d rushed like crazy to get ready to go to Rose Cottage. Being invited there by one of the D’Angelo sisters was like a dream come true. Despite all the strides he’d made in building his self-confidence over the years, he still couldn’t quite believe it. He felt like the shy, awkward boy he’d been at sixteen. He wanted to get this right.

He paid the disbelieving clerk for the boxes of desserts, then headed the few miles back to Rose Cottage.

When Ashley opened the door, he almost swallowed his tongue. She was wearing a thin robe that clung to her still damp body, revealing every intriguing shadow, every lush curve. Her hair was in damp ringlets that sprang free from some sort of scrunchy thing that was supposed to be holding it on top of her head.

“Sorry,” she said, sounding frantic. “I had a phone call right after you left. It took me longer to get started in the shower than I expected. Make yourself at home. Get whatever you need in the kitchen to clean the fish. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She bolted for the stairs without waiting for a reply. Just as well, Josh thought, since it took him fully a minute to get the blood flowing back to his brain where it was necessary for speech.

“Clean the fish,” he muttered as he set out to find the kitchen. “Just concentrate on cleaning the fish.” Maybe
that would drive the provocative image of Ashley in that revealing robe out of his head before she came back downstairs.

He was out back, scraping the scales from the last fish, when she finally emerged from the house. Thankfully, she was wearing loose jeans and a shapeless T-shirt, which looked as if they’d been borrowed from someone two sizes larger. Even so, she managed to stir his blood. Apparently she was going to do that no matter what she wore, he concluded. He’d just have to resign himself to it.

She’d dried her tawny hair into waves that fell to her shoulders. Her skin was clear and free of makeup, except for the faintest pink gloss on her lips. Even with all the suntan lotion she’d lathered on while they were on the water, her color was heightened to a healthy pink glow. She looked a thousand-percent better than the pale, shaken woman he’d met the day before.

“How’s it coming out here?” she asked.

“Just about finished. Have you figured out how to cook them?”

“Rest easy,” she said. “My sister has coached me through it. We probably won’t die of food poisoning.” She regarded him with apparent amusement. “By the way, why are there four bakery boxes on the kitchen table?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t make up my mind what you’d like best.”

“So you bought out the place?”

“Pretty much—at least everything chocolate,” he admitted. “You don’t have to eat it all.”

“But I probably will,” she admitted with a sigh. “Chocolate is what gets me through stress.”

“And you’re stressed now?” he asked.

She hesitated, then regarded him with surprise. “Not right this second, no.”

He grinned. “I told you there were advantages to a day in a rowboat.”

“Apparently so. I haven’t thought about work all day long. That’s like some sort of miracle.”

“Then let’s keep that track record intact and get dinner on the table.”

Ashley nodded at once. “Good plan. If I start to bring up anything work-related over dinner, cut me off.”

Josh wasn’t sure he’d be able to agree to that indefinitely, but he could for tonight. “No work. Got it.”

In the kitchen, they worked side-by-side. He made the salad while she fried the fish. When the plates were ready, they sat at the kitchen table and Ashley lifted a glass of wine in a toast.

“To relaxation,” she said.

“It’s a wonderful thing,” Josh added.

“Even if it can’t last forever,” she said, looking just a little sad.

“Hey, that borders on mentioning work,” he scolded. “Maybe we need to have a penalty.”

Competitive woman that she was, Ashley immediately seized on the idea, just as he’d known she would.

“Such as?” she asked at once.

“We each have a pot and put in a dollar for every infraction. We’re on the honor system. We have to put the money in even if the other person isn’t around. At the end of the week, the one with the fewest violations gets all the money.” He grinned. “And gets treated to dinner by the loser.”

She considered the scheme thoughtfully, as if weighing her odds of winning. “I can do that,” she said finally.