Seal With a Kiss (6 page)

Frowning now, he stepped up to the gas window.
"Paying for pump six."

"That it?" asked the pretty blond locked inside the
bulletproof compartment. He nodded and pushed his
company card through the slot. Glancing past the
plate glass window, he saw a gleaming convertible
next to the refrigerator truck. A tall, dark-haired man
was leaning against the front of the expensive sports
car, talking to Violet. He grinned, and perfect teeth
flashed.

Violet smiled back at him.

Smitty clenched his jaw and signed the slip hard
enough to tear the carbon paper.

He crossed the parking lot just in time to hear her
laughter ring out across the tarmac. He paused. When
was the last time he'd heard Violet laugh? Really
laugh? Not the brittle chuckle that signaled a practical joke gone well, but the carefree, young sound
she was making now?

He wasn't sure, but it seemed like it had been a
long time. Maybe Brody was right. Maybe they all needed a change. However, he thought, narrowing
his eyes, that change didn't need to include some
roadside hustler in a sports car.

Planning to dispatch the guy in short order, Smitty
scowled as he walked up behind Violet and draped
an arm around her shoulders. "Ready to hit the road,
babe?" He glared at Mr. Convertible, who got the
hint right away and backed off even before Smitty
cocked an eyebrow and said, "We have lots of driving to do before bedtime."

When the sports car had departed in a swirl of
expensive fumes, Violet turned on him. Her eyes
glowed with temper and she poked him in the chest,
just above his heart.

"Just who do you think you are? I was talking to
him about the stranding center. You know... donations? Besides, we have plenty of time to get the sea
lion back up to Cape Cod, and Brody said we should
enjoy ourselves on the way down, didn't he?" She
was toe to toe with him, ready to do battle. "So what
was that little act all about?"

Smitty gritted his teeth. She was right, he'd overreacted. But he hadn't liked the way Mr. Convertible
had been looking at her, and he'd liked the direction
of his thoughts even less. "I don't think Brody was
suggesting that we pick up men at a truck stop in
Connecticut, do you? I think he expected us to get to Florida and make nice with the Seaquarium folks.
That's the kind of contact Dolphin Friendly needs
right now."

"Well, it's not the kind of contact I need," Violet
grumped, and Smitty cringed to think what kind of
contact she'd been looking for from Mr. Convertible.
A slick guy like that would never be good enough
for her.

He held up both hands in surrender. "Well, I can't
help you there, Vi."

And, surprisingly, she got even madder at that. But
it wasn't the loud, exciting, pretty anger Smitty loved
so much. It was a quieter, sadder anger that made
him feel like he should apologize for something. Her
shoulders slumped. "Yeah, you've made that more
than clear. You can't give me what I need. Don't
worry-I figured that out when you married Ellen."

She climbed into the truck, taking the driver's side,
and slammed the door.

Though Smitty tried to start several conversations-and one fight-Violet made it clear she didn't
want to talk through the rest of the afternoon and
into the early evening. The miles rolled beneath the
refrigerator truck's wheels, and they passed from
country to city and back again, the temperature
warming as they slid southward.

By the time they stopped at dusk, Smitty was tired
of silence and his own confused emotions. Had she
been trying to tell him that she wanted a relationship
after all? He wasn't sure, and he was tired of trying
to figure it out. He was tired of the truck and tired
of being in the same clothes. He was hungry and
cranky and inexplicably tense from having spent the
last hundred miles staring at Violet's hands on the
steering wheel.

He'd seen those hands just about every day for the
past eight years, ever since she'd rejoined Dolphin
Friendly after her stint in Seattle. He'd seen those
hands soothe a seal tangled in fishing nets. He'd seen
them push a stranded dolphin back to sea, and he'd
seen them fly like fury over the computer keyboards
back on Streaker. And he realized as he watched her
drive that he'd never seen the perfect oval nails unpolished.

Such a small thing, but it reflected her personality
so well. Nothing undone. Nothing out of place.

"How often do you paint your fingernails, Vi?" he
asked as they dragged their duffels out of the truck
and into the generic lobby of the generic just-off-thehighway hotel.

She glanced at him, then away. "We've been driving since this morning and that's the best conversational gambit you can come up with? Pretty weak, Smitty." She signed the register and grabbed her key.
"And I'm out of here. I'll see you in the morning."

He stopped her. "Vi? Don't you want to grab some
dinner or something? Maybe go for a swim?"

Even as he made the invitation, it felt strange.
They ate together and swam together seven days a
week, but never alone. There was always someone
else around, either joining in or passing through. That
was what Dolphin Friendly was all about. Or least it
had been, before Brody and Maddy's marriage.

Violet shrugged and faked a yawn. "I don't think
so. I'm just going to crash. See you tomorrow." She
disappeared up the stairs.

Smitty got his own room and changed into his
swimming trunks. He called the front desk and ordered room service to be sent up to Violet, knowing
that she'd forget to eat if there wasn't food in front
of her. Then he went down to swim.

He was twitchy from all the driving and needed to
burn some calories. That's all it was, he told himself-too much energy.

His restlessness had nothing to do with the woman
down the hall.

ccWhere are you?" Brody's voice on the cell
phone was as clear as if he were sitting next to her.
Violet glanced at the driver's side and wished for a
fleeting moment that Brody was the one sitting next
to her. His presence never bothered her the way
Smitty's presence did.

Which is probably why her and Brody's relationship had died of boredom.

"Somewhere in South Carolina," she answered.
"We're making pretty good time." Mostly because
there hadn't been much conversation. Smitty was
driving like he wanted to get the trip over with as
soon as possible, and she couldn't blame him. It wasn't his fault she hadn't slept well the night before,
but she'd snapped at him first thing that morning anyway.

Well, technically it was his fault she had tossed
and turned through the night, ending up staring at the
ceiling, angry and frustrated that she kept remembering scenes of their time together at U.C. Santa
Cruz. She was remembering things they had shared
B.E.-Before Ellen.

"So you'll reach the Seaquarium sometime tomorrow?" Brody's voice was familiar and settled her jangled nerves. He continued, "Remember, Jasper won't
be ready for transport until the day after tomorrow,
so don't feel like you have to rush down there. You'll
have to hurry home, though, to be back in time for
the opening ceremonies."

Violet assured him that they had everything under
control and finished the call. When she'd returned
her phone to the ugly green bag she kept meaning to
replace, she realized the truck was slowing.

"Want to switch drivers?" She made her voice as
pleasant as she knew how, hoping Smitty would take
it as an apology for her attitude that morning. She
wondered whether it would lighten things between
them if she tried a practical joke. Then she decided
that with her recent luck with practical jokes, she'd
probably try to give him a hotfoot and accidentally blow up the truck. If that happened, she'd be on land
duty for the rest of her natural life.

Smitty guided the big box truck down an off ramp
and turned down a side street, following a series of
big blue arrows. "No. We're stopping here. Brody
said there was no hurry, right?"

"Yes, but...."

"No buts. We've made great time and we've been
working our tails off the last few months at the
stranding center. Let's take a break for a couple of
hours. What do you say?" He waved at the colorful
latticework of slides and tubes, at the enormous sign
they were parked under.

Water World.

Violet felt her heart turn over. It could've been
another sign, at another park on the opposite side of
the country-a decade in their past.

She shook her head. "Smitty, I don't think...

He touched her hand gently. "You used to love
these places, Vi. Don't let what happened back then
take that away from you." He tried for a light tone.
"I promise I won't ask you to marry me this time."

The words were wistful, the memory bittersweet.
Violet pushed it aside and found a hint of the anger
she'd carried for the past decade. "Somehow, I don't
remember you asking me to marry you in the first
place. It was more like `I don't want to be alone.
Let's make a family.' "

The engine idled roughly and a pair of children on
their way to the entrance of the water park glanced
curiously at the refrigerator truck as their parents
tugged them past.

"It's the same thing," he said, sounding surprised.

Violet shook her head. "Not to me it wasn't, and
not to you either or you wouldn't have replaced me
so easily. Ellen wanted to be a family. I didn't. Your
choice seemed simple." She sighed and reached for
the door handle, then forced false cheer into her
voice. "But why rehash all this now? It was a long
time ago and a lot of water under each of our
bridges."

She hopped out of the truck and turned to rummage through her squashed bag for her bathing suitwhat there was of it.

"Wait a second! That's not fair. You turned me
down!" He was out of the truck in an instant, coming
around to her side practically radiating shock and indignation.

"Yes, I did. And beyond that, I don't really want
to talk about it, do you? It's ancient history, Smitty.
Let's leave it in the past." Determinedly, she pushed
the sadness back into the corner of her mind where
it belonged. "And you're right. We deserve a break.
Let's hit the water park and see if we still remember
how it's done."

She looked up to see if he was with her and found
his eyes glued to the bikini. She dangled one of the
tiny straps off a finger. "You with me?"

He swallowed. "Um. Yeah."

Though a faint sadness echoed in her chest, Violet
grinned, grabbed a towel, and sashayed towards the
entrance of the park. She had, she realized, spent so
much time recently being mean to him that she'd
forgotten how much fun they'd once had together.
And how good it felt when the thought of seeing her
in that bikini could make his eyes bug out, even
though it had been ten years since they'd been anything more than friends.

Ten long years during which he'd been married
and divorced, and she'd not... been married.

The water park had been his idea, but as he
watched Violet disappear into the ladies' changing
room, Smitty wished he'd pulled over at a petting
zoo instead. Even a flea market or a country fair
would've been easier than this.

It hadn't been until he'd pulled into the water park
and set the brake that he realized that he'd brought
them back to the place where it had all gone wrong.
Until that day at California's WaveForm Water Park,
he'd truly believed that he and Violet were going to
spend the rest of their lives together. He'd truly believed they were soul mates.

He'd been so lost when classes began that year at
U.C. Santa Cruz. His mother's death had set him
adrift in the world without any family and only a few
close friends. Then he'd met Violet at orientation.
She'd been smart, sassy, beautiful... and seemed
just as alone as he'd felt.

They'd become friends, then a couple. And the
more he'd learned about her sprawling, loving family
in the middle of the country, the more Smitty had
envied it. The more he'd wanted those kinds of roots,
that kind of commitment.

He'd thought she wanted it too.

"You're not changed yet!"

He blinked back from the past. And blinked again.
The tiny blue bikini danced before his eyes, partially
hidden by a clever wrap that she'd tied across her
hips.

"Smitty? You okay?"

He swallowed and nodded, trapped somewhere between the past and a fantasy. "Fine. I'll just. . . ." He
gestured towards the changing rooms. "Be right
back."

He needed a minute alone. The past and the present were too tangled up in his head. And thoughts of
the future? They were just as tangled. It seemed obvious they couldn't keep on fighting the way they'd
been doing lately, but he didn't see how they could be something as simple as friends. And if not friends,
then what? He didn't like the idea of not seeing her
on a daily basis, but the alternative was impossible.