Sweet Alibi (7 page)

“
Oh.
” Understanding settled. Women. The boat was his alibi when he was trying to steer clear of a woman. Or women. Many women, as I’m sure he broke a lot of hearts with that hair, those eyes, that grin.

“Is this weird now?” He took a step closer to me.

“No, of course not,” I answered.

A wide grin broke out across his face. “Good.” He reached a hand out to me and I slid my own in his. Fire burned across my skin at his touch. He pulled me onboard and readied the boat to leave. With sunglasses on, I watched him skitter around, hoisting sails and tightening lines. His faded blue jeans and white t-shirt clung to his torso deliciously, hinting at the toned chest underneath. He wore a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses that gave him a sexy retro vibe, and coupled with the tousled, sandy blond hair, I had to force my eyes away from him.

Eyes closed, I tilted my head toward the sun and arched my neck. The breeze swirled around my still-damp hair. I inhaled the salty ocean air as Tristan started the engine and backed us away from the dock. Guilt dampened my mood for a moment when I thought of all the work that needed to be done at the house, but I forced myself to consider all the things Drew, Silas, and I had already accomplished.

Thoughts of rooms and paint colors were interrupted when a whistle snapped me out of my daydream. I righted my head and glanced at Tristan behind the wheel of the boat. He gave me a sexy lopsided grin and tilted his head, wanting me to move closer to him. I was beginning to think I could survive on a boat with Tristan if we kept some distance between us.

I heaved a sigh and made my way to him. The easy grin stayed on his face the entire time I strode over.

“Hey,” he said when I got close enough to hear.

“Hey.” I granted him a small smile. I kicked my sandals off and curled up on a padded bench next to the wheel of the boat.

“Great view from the water, huh?” He nodded back toward shore. We were a few hundred yards from the marina; it looked beautiful and bustling from this perspective. Seagulls dove through the bright blue sky as Tristan angled the boat north.

“It's beautiful.” I looked back to shore, lost in thought.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Great,” I said.

“Good. I could probably dig up some seasickness pills, but I don't think they do much good.”

I only nodded in response and snuggled my lightweight cardigan around my arms.

“You wanna drive?” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“No, I'm good.” I was happy to sit here and soak up the sea air. “What's your last name?” I asked without thought.

“That's what you’re thinking about?” He laughed.

“It just occurred to me that I don't know it.” I shrugged.

“I don't know yours either.” His lips turned up in a smile. God, when he grinned like that it did things to my body.

“Montgomery.”

“Nice to meet you, Georgia Montgomery.”

“And you are?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Tristan Thomas Howell. I suddenly feel like we’re on the playground for the first time.” His eyes sparkled with amusement.

I laughed. It did seem exactly like that. “Georgia Hope Montgomery.” My heart felt a little lighter
―
it felt good to live simply in the moment and laugh. That's why Silas and I worked so well
―
I needed someone to pull me outside myself or I would sink. And Silas liked to make people laugh. We had a perfectly symbiotic relationship.

“So were your parents hippies?”

“What?”

“Your name
―
Georgia, it's unique. Beautiful, but different. I was thinking only hippies would give their daughter a name like that.”

“No. Not hippies. They just liked the name.” I watched gulls float on unseen currents of air behind the boat.

“Where did you grow up?” he asked as he nodded at a passing boat.

“Suburb of D.C.” I watched the other boats in the distance. Tristan did have a beautiful boat
―
rich navy with honey wood accents.

“Are your parents in politics?”

“What's with the inquisition?” 

He gave a small shrug. “Just making conversation.” He seemed to let my attitude roll off his back, making him even more endearing.

I frowned and then felt bad for being a bitch. “Yeah, Dad’s in politics. My mom’s a teacher. What about you?”

“Dad owned a construction company, Mom stayed at home with me. Can you watch the wheel a minute while I trim the sails?”

My eyebrows shot up. “I'm qualified?”

“Just keep her on course.” He waited for me to take the helm. He walked toward the front of the boat and tightened some lines. As he adjusted the mainsail, I felt the boat shift. I tightened my grip to keep us on course. He continued to adjust the sails until I felt the boat pull less and we cut through the sparkling blue Atlantic gracefully.

He stretched his arms, causing his shirt to ride up and expose sharp hipbones and a sculpted V muscle that had my stomach twisting nearly painfully. I slammed my eyes closed, held onto the wheel tightly, and prayed for strength.

Kyle.

Think of sweet, loving Kyle. Always understanding. Always loving. Always there. Except now, when we were a few states apart and I was sailing on the Atlantic with a beautiful man I'd just met yesterday. Anger flared instantly but died when I remembered that Kyle was working his ass off for us. If he got the promotion, we could move outside of the city, buy a house in the suburbs, get married and have kids. That's why I loved Kyle.

“You’re a natural.” He returned and sat on the bench. “You seemed pretty far away.” He watched me pensively.

“Just thinking.” I continued to hold the wheel and focus ahead.

“Sailing has a tendency to do that to a person. I love it out here; it's the only time I get peace. The definition of unplugged. Not far off shore and cell service gets spotty
―
no Wi-Fi, just you and the open air.”

“It's lovely.” I sighed. He was exactly right. The sound of the wind in the sails and the waves slapping the side of the boat, the sea birds squawking here and there, it was simple and beautiful and allowed my mind to slow down and enjoy everything existing around me. 

“I think so.” He was still watching me from the bench.

“You want the helm back, captain?” 

“I like the view from here.” A lopsided grin lifted his cheeks. My insides coiled at the flirty inflection of his words. “I never get the chance to sit back and enjoy. I always play captain. You look good at it,” he said before turning back to the water. “There's your house.” He nodded as it came into view.

The beach houses packed tight along the shoreline were now behind us and my beautiful house stood nearly alone on a secluded stretch of beach. It looked large and looming but fit perfectly into the surroundings with its weathered shingles and creamy white trim.

“I love it even more from this perspective,” I murmured.

“It's a great house,” he agreed. “Why did you choose Wilmington?” 

I caressed a thumb along the worn wood of the boat wheel. “I woke up one morning and wanted something different.” My eyes trained on the distant horizon. “I went to school at Duke, and I've always loved the beach, so North Carolina seemed like an obvious choice.”

“It's a nice area. And your place is big and rambling, one of those great shore houses that you don't see much of anymore. Now they're all perfect white porches and Easter egg colors.”

“That house was the first that came up in results. I looked at more, but I just couldn't get it out of my head. Silas and I drove down the following Saturday. I fell in love, offered asking price and by the time we were back in the city it'd been approved.” We left the house behind and an old dock jutting out of the water came into focus. 

“I didn't realize I had a neighbor so close.” I squinted my eyes to make out the small cottage tucked into the trees less than a hundred yards from my house. A long boardwalk stretched out over the dune grass before the sandy beach opened up.

“Looks vacant,” Tristan mused. There was a white shutter hanging off a window and dune grass had overgrown the boardwalk.

“I can take over now if you want. You looked so peaceful curled up over there,” he said as he took the wheel from me. I stood beside him for a moment and our shoulders touched. I was happy, and I wasn't sure how much of it had to do with the sailing and how much had to do with the guy next to me. I had the urge to lean into his arm and rest my head on his shoulder.

“Do you want anything? There's soda and bottled water in the fridge down below.” As he talked, the boat pitched to the side from a rolling wave and I knocked into him. He shot an arm out around my waist to hold me upright. 

“Okay?” His hand tightened around my waist.

“Yeah. Took me by surprise.”

“Takes a while to get your sea legs.”

I nodded until I realized his hand was still firmly wrapped around my waist. His palm felt so warm and comforting. Fire shot through my veins, nerves prickled across my skin, and my brain fired off possibilities from that simple touch. I was just the right height to curl up under his arm. I closed my eyes, wanting so much to lean into him.

I should step away, but he felt so good, and he had just saved me from face planting on the floor of the boat. I didn't want to seem rude. A shiver rolled through my body as my shirt rode up where his palm rested and the pad of his thumb made contact with my flesh. My heart thudded in my chest and desire hit me in the pit of my stomach. His touch had electricity shooting through my body.

“Cold?” he asked before moving his palm up my arm and rubbing quickly to generate heat. I nodded and bit my lip as my brain fought to make sense of the energy bouncing between us.

“I should have told you to bring something warmer.” He pulled me into him as he kept one hand on the wheel and the other wrapped around my shoulders. My head tucked into his chest felt heavenly. If I was honest with myself, it was exactly where I'd wanted to be from the moment I'd stepped onto this boat with him. He rubbed his palm up and down my back. I inhaled deeply and smelled his fresh, clean scent. He smelled like the sun and the ocean and a clean, fresh shower. It was a heady combination.

Kyle.

The man you’re going to marry.

The man you’re going to have kids with.

Kids that will have warm, chocolate eyes, just like Kyle’s.

“I'm going to get a water; can I get you anything?” I yanked away from him and made my way toward the stairs to the galley.

“Water is good, thanks,” I heard him say. I grabbed two bottles and steadied myself against the small counter. I took some calming breaths as my brain burned with excitement.

Fire shot through my body at his touch. The scent of his skin caused my brain to short circuit. I knew I was only feeling that way because I'd been missing Kyle. This was the longest we'd been apart. 

Kyle was my comfort, my home. The world felt strange and awkward without him; I felt strange and awkward without him. 

It'd been nearly a week and we'd been so busy we hadn't had a chance to really talk. That's what this was
―
I missed Kyle. I needed to remind myself not to mistake the pull I felt toward Tristan as anything other than my yearning for the sweet, dark-haired boy that'd been the first to place his lips against mine in a gentle kiss. Who'd taken me to prom and snuck into my room at night when terror tore through my subconscious and left me a crying shell of a person.

I thought of Kyle's sweet, brown eyes and the dark stubble that undoubtedly covered his jawline. I took a deep breath. Maybe I could convince Kyle to come down next weekend; he would love sailing.

I made my way up the short steps, glad that I'd managed to get control of the emotions that had momentarily been spiraling.

Eight

Georgia

I WOKE THE next morning bone tired. I’d tossed and turned all night plagued by dreams
―
some memories, some a mash-up of my worst nightmares. 

Flashes of blood glistening in the moonlight haunted me. My entire body trembled with fear. Heart racing, rapid breaths, soul-stirring fear. Nightmares have a terrible way of seeping into your bones and taking root long after morning has dawned. 

I clenched and unclenched my fists in an attempt to maintain control and not fall into a full-blown anxiety attack. After years of therapy I'd finally put them behind me, or so I thought, but this…this felt as near to one as I'd had in a long while. I sucked in slow breaths and curled deeper into the cool sheets trying to recover from the emotional upheaval of the night. 

A smile crept across my face when I exited my room a while later and found the coffee pot full, my favorite mug sitting next to it. 

My muscles relaxed as I poured myself a cup and walked to the porch, curling up in the chair next to Tristan.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey,” I said and inhaled the warm steam, letting it wash over my face and chase the fatigue away.