Meant to Be (2 page)

“You want me to distract you?” His voice showed a little more enthusiasm than it had when he first climbed in. Her body turned traitor, growing enthusiastic about his enthusiasm.

“Talking,” she squeaked. “Talk to me as a distraction.”

“Right,” he said, with noticeably less enthusiasm. “Afraid talking’s not my thing.”

“We’ll muddle through.” Telling him his stellar body made sparkling conversation unnecessary didn’t seem like a good idea. Though the thought sent heat crawling up her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this.”

“What are you usually like?” he asked, leaning against the door. His voice calm. Soothing. He was already better at this than he knew.

What was she usually like? She had to think about that one. “More sane. Usually. Rational. Practical.”

“I see,” he said. “Then it must be your practical side that has you holding on to that wheel. Since there’s no need to steer right now, maybe you could let go. Sit back. Enjoy the ride.”

“Right. Sure.” By some miracle, her hands cooperated. Blue-collar guy had serious skills. He’d be excellent in divorce negotiations. Lowering the windows, she nodded toward the dog. “He won’t jump out, will he?”

“Dozer won’t go anywhere.”

“What kind of a name is Dozer?”

“A dog’s name.” She raised a brow and he caught the hint. “When I got him he was either plowing dirt or sleeping, so I named him Dozer.” The stranger shrugged, and even that was sexy. “It fit.”

Another glance at the dog and Beth could see the rationale. The size of a small bulldozer, the fur ball covering her backseat looked to be on the brink of snoring. “Yes. That makes sense.” Turning back to his owner, she asked, “You said you’ve ridden this ferry thousands of times?”

“Yeah. I live on Anchor.”

Maybe he could fill in some island facts she hadn’t been able to find on the Internet. “I hear there aren’t many natives who live here year-round.”

“We do all right.”

Vague answer. This guy would be a pain to cross-examine. “Is the island really as small as the web makes it sound?”

“Depends on your idea of small. The first twelve miles down are a landing strip, but the village isn’t bad. Couple miles across.”

“Landing strip?” She gulped. “A wide landing strip?”

“Wide enough. Are you afraid of all boats?” The ferry bobbed, and she grabbed the wheel again. “I guess you are.”

“Not afraid of boats exactly. It’s not as if I see a picture of one and break out in a cold sweat.” She tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, though efforts to control the stubborn curls were useless against the strong, salty breeze. Who knew the Outer Banks would be so windy? “It’s being
on
a boat that bothers me. Houseboat incident from my childhood.”

“Houseboat incident?” He chuckled then sobered when she glared. “Sorry. What was the houseboat incident?”

“You don’t want to hear that story.” Why had she even brought it up? She’d learned not to tell anyone the houseboat incident.

“Why not?” he asked. “Must be a big deal if you’re this scared.”

She huffed. “Because you’re going to tell me I’m stupid for letting something so insignificant feed my fear all these years later.”

Silence reigned. Even Dozer seemed to stop breathing. Beth kept her eyes on the steering wheel.

Mr. Evinrude cleared his throat. “I’m no shrink, but I’m guessing someone’s made fun of this fear before?”

“Maybe.” She picked at the wheel with her nail. “I’m not crazy. I know it’s irrational.” Turning to face him, she waved her hands in the air. “And I’m normally a very rational person.”

“Right. You mentioned that.” Turning his body toward hers, he stretched an arm across the seats, resting his hand inches from her shoulder. Beth fought the urge to lean back. “Tell me about it.”

“About what?” The proximity of that hand was shorting out her brain.

“What happened on the houseboat?”

Now she’d done it. Since talking had been her idea, she couldn’t refuse to talk herself. He was doing as she’d asked, after all. For her, a stranger. If he laughed, she could always shove him out of the car.

“I was young,” she began, summoning the painful memories. “My grandparents’ best friends had a houseboat out on Tappan Lake. We’d go several times throughout the summer, and I always looked forward to the trips.”

Children’s laughter filled her ears. A splash followed by a squeal of delight.

“One Father’s Day weekend we were pretty far out, away from the beach and swimming area.” She looked around to the other cars.
Stay in the present, Beth.
“A speedboat shot by too close, and the wake made the houseboat list hard to one side. My best friend, Lily, and I were playing near the back.” Beth stared at the steering wheel and blurted, “Lily managed to hold on, but I didn’t.”

“You fell in?”

“Yes. Lily tried to reach me, but I kept sinking.” An ache started in her lungs and Beth rubbed her chest. “I don’t know how many times I went under, but at some point my legs got tired. I couldn’t kick anymore.”

Beth didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the ferry horn blew. She looked to the man on her right as if he’d just appeared out of nowhere.

“Relax. You’re okay.” His voice lacked the derision she expected. “Who pulled you out?” he asked, brows drawn.

“Grandpa. He heard Lily’s screams and came to check on us. Yanked me out by the scruff of my shirt as if I were some brainless puppy who’d jumped in without knowing any better.” She blew out a breath and dropped her shoulders, feeling lighter. “After that I wouldn’t get back on a boat. Ever. They yelled and pushed and told me I couldn’t let some silly fear keep me from doing things.” Eyes locked on the letter
H
in the center of the wheel, she said, “I couldn’t do it, and they never understood. No one ever does.”

Beth went quiet, waiting for the lecture about life being full of risks and not letting fear win.

“Screw ’em,” he said.

“What?” Beth shook her head, confused. “Screw who?”

“Whoever gives you a hard time. Doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

She couldn’t have heard him right. Didn’t matter what other people thought? Crazy talk. “Of course it matters.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Dozer stuck his head between the seats as if sensing an argument. His owner scratched behind his ear, never taking his eyes from hers.

Beth’s brain couldn’t compute the concept of ignoring what others thought, so she switched to deflect mode. “Anyway. If I could stop the panic attacks, I would. Instead, I avoid boats.”

“Until now.” He grinned, teasing with the hint of a dimple.

“Until now what?” That dimple could fell a stronger woman than she.

“You’re on a boat now.” He shook his head. “Now you have me doing it. You’re on a ferry. Something important must be waiting on Anchor Island.”

“Very important.” She debated how much to tell. What if he knew the Dempsey family? What if he told them he met her on the ferry and she was a nutjob? She bit her bottom lip and glanced his way. His full lips curled and she bit harder.

Better to learn more about him before confiding her mission. “You said you live on the island. Does your family live there, too?”

“My parents do.”

“Siblings?”

“No. My brother lives in Richmond.” Beth’s radar went up. “He’ll be here this weekend though. Bringing his newest collectible to meet the family.”

“Excuse me?”

“His fiancée. He’s bringing her home to meet the parents.” His face pinched as if a skunk had passed by the car. “That’s who I was looking for when Dozer found you.”

“You were looking for your brother?”

“No, his fiancée.”

Sweet baby peas. “Is she supposed to be on this ferry?”

He shrugged, looking out his window. “Hell if I know, but I figure if I see a hard-edged, high-maintenance blonde bimbo driving a fancy car, that’ll be her.”

Beth sat up straighter. “You haven’t met her before?”

“No. But if I know Lucas, the description will fit.”

“Lucas?” This could not be happening.

“Yeah, my little brother.”

Oh boy.

B
eth summed up the situation in her mind with the hope of forming some kind of plan. Her future brother-in-law, whom she’d been lusting over for several minutes, resided in her passenger seat spewing less-than-positive opinions about his brother’s fiancée. A woman he had yet to meet, though unbeknownst to him sat an arm’s length away.

No matter how she twisted this scenario in her mind, one thing was clear. Nothing positive could come from revealing herself now. A glimpse out the windshield revealed what she assumed was the ferry landing ahead.

“Looks like we’re close to the other side,” she said, pretending the sight of land wasn’t the greatest relief ever. “Guess you should head back to your car.”

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, the concerned, kindhearted citizen returning.

“Yes, thank you. I think I can make it from here.” Her heart rate kicked up a notch at the idea of driving off the ferry alone. Then she imagined revealing her identity and the panic attack didn’t feel half as scary.

“You never told me what’s so important on Anchor Island to get you on this ferry.” The dimple made another
appearance, sending butterflies flitting around her stomach.

If they used that dimple on tourist ads, thousands of women would make this crossing every day.

“Just a visit,” she said. Knowing her inability to lie, she kept her eyes averted.

“I could show you around while you’re here,” he offered.

“Thanks, but I won’t be alone.” Not a lie, but the guilt continued to mount. Maybe she could campaign on her own behalf. “So you don’t think you’ll like this fiancée? Doesn’t seem fair when you haven’t met her yet.”

“She might not be so bad,” he conceded. “The chick is a lawyer at Lucas’s firm, so the bimbo thing might not fit.” He rubbed a line across his forehead. “I just know my brother. To him life is a game.”

“A game?”

“Yeah. I call it He Who Dies with the Most Shit Wins.”

Beth pictured the brand-new golf clubs Lucas had purchased the weekend before. The ones sitting between the never-used scuba gear and a box of discarded cell phones. None of which he’d used for more than a few months.

The description had merit, but Beth preferred to think of Lucas as active and tech savvy. Not shallow and materialistic.

“You don’t see life that way?” Beth asked.

“I don’t need anything but my island, my boat, and my dog.”

His words echoed a simplicity she admired. Longed for, even. “Sounds like a nice life.”

Blue eyes went wide. “Not many people agree with you.”

“Like you said. Screw ’em.” His reaction to that statement bordered on comical. A horn sounded above them, forcing Beth to cover her ears. “What the heck is that?” she asked.

“Means land ho. We’re pulling into Anchor.” Lucas’s brother climbed from the vehicle, then leaned through the passenger window. “I’m Joe, by the way. Dempsey. Offer still stands to show you around. Bring your friend along, too.”

“I don’t—”

“Think about it,” he interrupted. “If you change your mind, ask around. Someone will know where to find me.”

The horn sounded again. “Thank you for sitting with me,” she said, hoping if she left him thinking of her as friendly and grateful he might not be too upset when they officially met. Again.

“My pleasure,” he said, flashing his pearly whites, brighter thanks to his deep tan.

Beth wondered how two brothers could be so different, then remembered the two weren’t actually blood related. Lucas’s mother had married Joe’s father when the boys were young.

“Okay then.” Beth started the car and Dozer hopped up in the backseat. “Nice to meet you, Dozer.”

The dog panted in her ear for a few seconds, then licked the right side of her face.

“That’s enough, Doze,” Joe said, opening the door for the mutt. “Might not seem like it, but that’s a compliment. He doesn’t like a lot of people.”

Using her sleeve to mop up the slobber, Beth tried to smile but knew she failed. “Great. I’d hate to see what he does to people he doesn’t like.”

“If he doesn’t like them, they don’t get close enough to find out.” Joe closed the door once the dog made his exit. Beth pulled a tissue from her purse to wipe the slobber out of her ear. “I didn’t get your name.”

She debated whether to lie. Surely he knew his brother’s fiancée’s name. “Beth,” she said, going for a shortened version of the truth. Maybe he wouldn’t make the connection.

“Beth. That suits you.” The dimple shone full force, knocking the wind out of her. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” Oh, he had no idea how soon. With a wave he walked off, an orange tail trailing behind him.

Watching him fade into the crowd of vehicles, Beth couldn’t help but compare the brothers. Lucas was slender but muscled with a runner’s body, while Joe looked more like the UFC fighters who worked out at the gym near her apartment.

Joe’s clothes were well-worn, his jeans tattered at the bottom. Lucas would max out his credit card before he’d wear anything remotely approaching tattered.

“So much for making a good first impression.” She sighed and went for positivity. “Maybe we’ll laugh about this.” Something told her the sun would set in the east before Joe Dempsey laughed about feeling like a fool.

She’d just have to work twice as hard to win him over. No matter what, before Beth left Anchor Island, Joe Dempsey would have a much better opinion of his brother’s fiancée.