Crazy for Love (9 page)

T
HE WAVES SLAPPED
the sides of the boat as the wind pushed spray above the bow, and Max's heart pounded. Another day on the water. Another day of making sure his brother didn't sail into a storm or flip the boat or wreck them on the rocks.

But this time Max's heart wasn't pounding with anxiety. It was pounding because Chloe Turner was lounging on one of the captain's seats, her feet balanced against the railing as she grinned into the wind. Her red bikini glowed like a siren in the sun, alerting him to what they'd been doing the last time he'd seen it. Wow.

“Slow down as you come up on these buoys,” he said to Elliott without taking his eyes off Chloe's belly. His fingers tingled at the memory of that soft skin. “Keep the red on the starboard side and the green on the port. That's left.”

“Got it.”

She turned to look out at the water, her thighs
flexing with the movement. God, he had to touch her again, soon.

This celibacy thing was backfiring. His mind was swimming with the taste of her mouth and the firm push of her nipple against his palm and the slick heat of her sex beneath his fingers…

“A little slower,” he murmured. The pitch of the engine didn't change, so Max sighed and pulled his gaze from Chloe's body. “A little slower!” he called out, and Elliott gave him a thumbs-up and cut the speed.

The water was rougher today, so they'd decided to take the boat all the way back to the protected waters of the bay. A forty-five-minute trip, but what the hell. Chloe was there, totally relaxed, sending him secret winks every time he made a move to control the situation.

God, she was hot.

“Does this look good?” he asked Elliott, gesturing toward a little curve of the shoreline. What he meant was
Stop here.
But asking for input was a much more effective way to maneuver people. When Elliott nodded, Max said, “I'll drop the anchor.” The engine cut off and a faint ribbon of peace washed over him with the silence. The sound of water was more muffled here in the protected confines of the bay. The most prominent sound was the trilling of birds and the rattle of insects and the soft laughter
of the two women who'd asked if they could accompanying the men on their fishing trip.

Max took a deep breath and let the anchor fall. Then he turned toward Chloe and her bright grin. She clearly enjoyed being in on his secret, and Max felt lighter than he had in years.

Chloe was… Chloe was an oasis.

Perhaps that was an odd metaphor in the middle of a warm bay, surrounded by lush greenery. But there was nothing peaceful for him here. Nothing but Chloe.

“Hey, Max!” she called out, the corner of her mouth edging up. “Can we take off our life jackets now that we're stopped?” She'd already pushed the boundary by leaving only the top buckle buttoned, but since she'd exposed her stomach, he hadn't complained. Much.

“Shush,” he called. “I told you the Coast Guard has eyes and ears everywhere. After that incident with the admiral's twin daughters, he's out to get me on any trumped-up charge he can. The life jackets stay on.”

“Oh, the
twin
daughters. Right. Got it.”

“Welcome to my crazy world.”

Laughter danced in her eyes. “You got a rod for me?”

He raised an eyebrow and grabbed a fishing rod
as an excuse to go sit next to her. “Have you ever fished?”

“It's been a long time. My dad used to take me out when I was little, but he took care of all the details. The worms and the…fish.”

“Right.” His knee brushed hers, just as it had the night before. He looked down at the creamy skin of her thigh. What would've happened if they hadn't been discovered? She'd just been starting to make the best sounds. If he'd—

“So are you going to take care of it for me?”

“Hmm?”

“The worms?”

“Oh, sure. The worms. We use squid strips, actually. But I'll bait the line if you like.”

“I like.”

He showed Chloe what to do, glancing up to see that Elliott was doing the same for Jenn. Chloe looked familiar with the rod and reel, so he stepped back to wipe off his hands and let her cast. The movement pitched her body forward, and Max cringed and reached for her. His mind spit out a charming line as he pulled her back against his chest.
I was looking for an excuse to touch you,
it said. Then,
Maybe you need a little more hands-on instruction.

Max stayed still, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand holding her elbow. And he
realized that he didn't need to find a charming line to lull her. He could just…say it.

He took a deep breath. “Could you not lean out like that again?”

She turned her head enough that Max could see her profile as she watched him from the corner of her eye. “Okay.”

“Because it makes me think you're going to fall out.”

“Surely the water's not so deep here.”

“No, but that doesn't matter. You could hit your head or get caught up in vegetation you can't even see.” Max held his breath, waiting for her to snap at him, to say something like, “Yeah, I'm not an idiot.” Or “I can take care of myself.”

But Chloe nodded. “Okay. I'll be careful.”

“Thanks,” he said lightly, even though his heart was struggling to pound out of his chest. It was so much harder to be honest. If you were charming, people couldn't throw it in your face. If you were funny and flirtatious, they
wanted
to indulge you. But simply taking a deep breath and stating your thoughts aloud…Christ, that seemed like an outright invitation for rejection.

But Chloe was still smiling, and when she leaned her head a little closer to his chin, Max brushed his lips across her temple.

“Mmm.” She sighed, as if there weren't two life
vests propping their bodies far apart. But for Max the life vests were a conduit to the pleasure of this stolen moment. He rested his mouth on her soft hair and breathed in the scent of her as a prickle of electricity scattered over his skin. They were on the water in a boat that dipped and bobbed in every wave, but he could relax and breathe her in because she wore a life jacket and had agreed to be careful.

“You're not going to rat me out?” he whispered.

“Never. It wouldn't be nearly as fun to tease you if it wasn't a private joke.”

Max realized the arm he'd wrapped around her waist was pressed against an expanse of warmth. An experimental swipe of his thumb revealed the sweet texture of her bare skin. Chloe's muscles jumped a little. He did it again and kissed her cheekbone.

“I couldn't sleep last night,” he confessed, “thinking about you.”

“Worried about your secret?”

“Chloe, pay attention. I'm coming on to you. I was thinking about you on the beach, letting me get to third base.”

“Ooh.” The parts of her face he could see turned pink. “Is that third base? I forget.”

“That's about as third base as it gets. Your lack of knowledge makes me think you were a good girl in high school. Were you?”

Her blush deepened to a color close to red. “Maybe.”

Max's entire body heated in immediate response. He dipped his head to kiss her ear, then carefully pressed his teeth to the delicate lobe, loving the way she shivered against him. Max spread his hand wide over her hot stomach. “Chloe Turner, I think you're the sweetest girl I've ever gotten to third base with.”

The muscles of her stomach flinched. “That was in high school. I'm not sweet anymore.”

“Liar. You're sweet. And soft. And peaceful.”

“That's not—”

“And smart enough to see through my act.”

“Well, I—”

When he opened his mouth on her neck and sucked gently at the flesh, Chloe's words died a quick death in her throat. Max found her sharp gasp immensely satisfying. He edged his pinkie finger beneath the waist of her bottoms, thinking of what she'd let him do last night. Thinking that this wasn't the time or place, but she'd been so damn hot for him, and he really wasn't going to touch her like that here on the boat, but maybe just for a second…

A high-pitched squeal pierced his head, and Max jerked Chloe a foot back from the railing, just in case someone had spotted a shark. A splash followed the squeal, and he was already kicking off his flip-flops
as he spun into lifesaving mode. But Jenn and Elliott were both still on the boat.

“I've got something!” Jenn called, bouncing up and down on her toes.

Max cringed at the movement, but tried to turn it into a smile. “That's great! If you want to play Captain Ahab, you've got to get some leverage. Take a seat and brace one foot against the side of the boat. Some of these guys can be monsters.”

She laughed over her shoulder, eyes bright with excitement. Max saw the exact moment his brother got hit over the head with the cartoon anvil of a bad crush. Elliott's face registered a moment of stark, painful shock as a ray of sunlight struck her wind-blown hair.

Max paused in his rush across the length of the boat. He should let his brother take care of Jenn. If Max left them alone, maybe the awareness he'd noticed between the two of them would develop into a flirtation. Maybe his brother really would relax and have a good time. Maybe he'd have a wild affair with a gorgeous woman and let go of this idea that he wasn't cut out for a relationship.

Max dropped his outstretched hand and took a deep breath, but then the boat bobbed up, and Jenn lurched toward the low railing, and Max leaped forward, covering the last five feet in a blink of an eye. He and Elliott grabbed her at the same time, but
Elliott merely aimed an irritated glance in Max's direction. Max could feel his own face frozen in fear.

“Look.” Jenn shook off their hands and tilted her head toward the water. “It's tiny. I can handle it.”

Worried that she was about to lean out and try to snag the line, Max reached for the net, but his hand knocked into Elliott's arm as he did the same thing. This time Elliott glared.

“Right,” Max murmured, feeling like a dick. “Sorry.” He stood and moved away from Jenn, staying close enough to Elliott that he could keep an eye on him as he swept the net out to scoop up the little roundhead she'd caught.

As soon as everyone was settled happily back into the questionable safety provided by the railing, Max backed away and resumed his place at Chloe's side.

“Elliott thinks I'm flirting with Jenn,” he muttered.

“Even after you were over here feeling me up?”

“He thinks I'm a player.”

“Are you?”

Surprised, Max met her serious gaze. “No!”

She raised an eyebrow. “So why would he think that?”

“I'm not… Okay, I admit I can be flirtatious, but I am
not
a player.”

“You don't have to lie to me, Max.” She turned back to look at the line bobbing in the water. “It's no big deal, all right?”

“I'm not lying!” When the bird chatter died out for a few seconds, Max realized he'd shouted. He glanced over to a puzzled Elliott and a suspicious Jenn and offered a friendly wave. “Sorry.” Chloe, on the other hand, was smirking at the water. He leaned in close and whispered. “You're the first woman I've touched in nine months.”

The smirk faded from her lips, but Max's heart was dropping. Had he just said that? Aloud?
Way to play the desperation card, Max Sullivan.
“It's nothing weird, though. I just decided that celibacy was… I mean, not
celibacy
celibacy. Just…”

“Celibacy?” she squeaked.

“No!” To offset another shout, he offered Jenn the flash of a sick smile over his shoulder. “Forget I said anything.”

She shifted and tried to cross her arms, but the fishing rod and life vest interfered, so she just edged away from him. “So…you're sending mixed signals here. Flirting with me and then telling me you're celibate.”

“But I'm going to have sex with
you,
” he insisted, just before the roar in his ears warned him that this was getting very bad, very fast. His pulse pounded, pushing a headache to life behind his eyes.

“Really?” Chloe drawled.

“Oh, Jesus.”

“Am I going to like it?”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

He ran a hand through his hair, aware of the drop of sweat snaking down his neck. “I meant that I really wanted to, even though I told myself it was a bad idea, and I couldn't stop thinking about you and that red bikini. And your eyes!” he added belatedly. “And you're such a normal girl. You're not glamorous or… Um.”

“I'm starting to believe you really aren't a player, because this is the worst seduction ever.”

“Oh,” he said, unwilling to let another full word pass his lips. He'd just blurted out the most insulting things he'd ever said to a woman. And, of course, he'd said them to the nicest girl he'd met in years. How had this become such a disaster? “I'm so sorry.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Lucky for you, I'm one of the few women in the world who actually revels in being called normal. I'll even take average at this point.”

“Chloe,” he managed. That one pained word was all he could get out before he slowly lowered himself to the bench seat behind him. Suddenly, he didn't care about the dangers of being on a boat in open
water. He didn't care that Elliott was leaning out way too far to slip the squirming fish back into the water.

Today Max Sullivan had discovered that he only had two speeds: fake and charming or freakishly awkward. Jesus. He'd spent so many years pretending to like women he didn't care for that he couldn't manage the most basic interaction with a girl he really did.

Chloe dropped into the space beside him and pressed her knee against his. “Max?”

He shook his head.