Undertow (10 page)

              I was surprised when Raef hooked a left into one of the parking areas for boat owners.  He drove slowly through the parking lot, parallel to the docks, the boats growing in size and price tag.  We approached the end of the lot, where the largest boats - well, YACHTS - were tied, each one taking up its own expanse of dock. 

Raef pulled into a spot next to a sleek, gunmetal gray sports car with a small, raised “ZR1” on the side.  He planted his feet to steady the bike and cut the engine, the void of noise making my ears ring.

“We’re here. You can take your helmet off now,” he said, removing his. I pulled mine off and tossed my hair slightly with my hand, hoping my locks didn’t look too ridiculous.

“I thought we were going to your house,” I said, looking at the amazing, sea-faring vessels.

“I never said ‘house’,” replied Raef casually, dismounting the bike and helping me do the same.

We started walking toward the long line of bank-busting boats. He jumped down off the seawall and onto the pier, then turned to help me down, but I hesitated as that strange flash of caution passed through my body.

“You coming?” he asked, looking up to me.

It was only then that I realized that the place Raef called home was one of these multi-million dollar yachts. “You live on a boat?” I nearly whispered, finally taking his hand and jumping down next to him. Though the caution was gone, my hand tingled at his touch.

“Well, yeah,” he said, looking almost ashamed. “I know it isn’t like your house, but it’s all we have.”

I couldn’t believe that he thought these yachts were anything less than jaw dropping.
All we have
I mouthed to myself, amazed at the marvels of engineering, barely rocking in the sea. “Trust me when I say that I’m seriously impressed by your home.”

He turned to me and smiled, “Well, that pleases me then.”

We walked along the dock and each yacht we passed seemed larger than the last.  Most had broad arched sterns with stairs built into their polished skins.  Each had been named and included such stellar choices as
Making Waves
,
Sea Urging
, and
Beauty N Boat
. 

Raef suddenly stepped away from me and onto the dive deck of an enormous yacht named
Cerberus
. It was a magnificent boat, beautifully crafted with a mirror-like ruby hull and a streak of black windows. I looked at Raef, who was still standing on the platform waiting for me.

“Oh, right! Permission to come aboard?” I asked.

“Permission granted, Miss Walker,” he replied, helping me step aboard. He pulled me so close on the narrow dive deck that our bodies touched and my face flushed pink as my heart hammered away.  He looked down at me and I tried to distract us from the moment, “So, uh, someone a Greek mythology fan?” I asked.

“What?”

“The name?
Cerberus
? Isn’t that the three-headed dog that guards the Underworld?”

“Oh that. Yeah, though technically Cerberus sort of works for the living, keeping them out of Hell. Well, at least he tries.”

“I stand corrected,” I said, as he moved slightly so I could walk up the bow stairs onto the yacht deck. The inside of the top deck was all polished dark woods accented with modern tones of burgundy. There was a curved, white lounging bed built into the back of the yacht and a gleaming wood table centered the outside aft area.

An upper section of the boat, what Raef called the flybridge, overhung the table and an expanse of tinted glass centered with an ornate, stained-glass door. Raef opened the door and stood aside so I could enter what I could only describe as the parlor, complete with furniture and a bar.  I instantly felt as though I had trespassed onto some Hollywood hotshot’s private oasis.

Raef smiled as he took my hand, “Come on and I’ll show you around.”  I was so dumbfounded by the yacht’s glory, that I could only manage a lame nod.

He led me through the parlor and to a chrome staircase that wound lower beneath our feet. I followed him down into a spectacular modern kitchen and I let out a long whistle, impressed. Raef just smiled and nodded toward the hallway connecting to the kitchen.  The hallway itself had a white, polished floor with little blue lights lining the wall. Raef opened a variety of doors along the hall, which revealed a beautiful bathroom with glass shower, and two bedrooms, one of which was Kian’s. 

“This is my room,” he said opening the last door. The same color tones and fabrics continued into his room and splashed over a beautiful, round bed.

“Wow. What an awesome bed,” I said, impressed at the unusual design, but quickly realizing I complimented his bed . . . in his bedroom.  I started to feel flustered.  Raef tried to control his smile and cleared his throat.

“It was part of the design of the boat. I actually prefer old architecture like your home,” he said, moving around the opposite side of the room. “I mean, workmanship like that requires a passion for the trade. Your four-poster is just beautiful. It’s a piece of art.”  He stopped short and seemed suddenly at a loss for words.

We stood there for a moment, just looking around the room, my feet glued in place. I couldn’t believe I was in his bedroom. Finally Raef cleared his throat, “So, uh, want to see the flybridge?” He acted restless, as if he’d never had a girl in his bedroom before. His nervousness I found cute.

Nevertheless, I was ready to spontaneously combust and rapidly agreed. We both moved quickly out of his room, which I swear got hotter by ten degrees while we were in it. 

As we walked back up the staircase I realized I needed to call Mae and let her know I was running late, though my whereabouts might require some creative editing. “I should call Mae. She is going to start to worry and she can stress on a whole different level
, if you know what I mean.”

“Of course. If you go outside there’s a set of stairs going up to the flybridge.  Reception on a cell is best up there.” He smiled at me. “Want something to drink?”

“Sure. Thanks,” I replied, fishing my cell from my hip pocket and heading up the stairs.

The view from the top of the yacht was spectacular.  The harbor water reflected the setting sun and the light wind ruffled the wrapped masts of the sailboats.  The homes along the shoreline were slowly winking on their lights. 

I took a deep breath, drawing in the crispy, salt-air oxygen and smiled at the peace I felt.  I dialed my cell and left a message for Mae about studying with some friends. Deleting the bit about a certain boy I was falling for was a necessity if she was going to keep her trip plans and, therefore, the freedom of having the house to myself. 

I closed my eyes and let the cold air run across my face and twist my hair.  So relaxing, so peaceful . . .

“Stalking is against the law,” said a deep voice, so close to me that the hairs stood on the nape of my neck. My eyes flew open and standing right in front of me was Kian.

“I mean, I know I have that effect on women, but really? Next time you want to snuggle, just ask,” he said with a wiry smile.

“Jeez, Kian, you almost gave me a coronary!  Are you trying to kill me?” I demanded, only half furious.  It was hard to be livid with the devastating O’Reilly brothers.  One could only wonder what the rest of the family looked like.

“Definitely not trying to kill you,” said Kian, still intimately close.

Too close. 

My personal space feeling squeezed and my skin prickling, I casually stepped back but my leg caught on the low table and I lost my balance.

I didn’t even see him move, but my swan dive was halted by Kian, who now had his arm hooked around my back. He held me for an extra second, his brilliant blue eyes studying me with an unnerving intensity. When he released me, my brain was on fire and every nerve in my body was raw. I swallowed hard and glanced over my shoulder to see where the heck Raef was, but Surfer Boy cleared his throat.

He stepped over to a white lounge chair, flopping into it.  “So how do you enjoy your new home?” he asked.

“It’s, uh, really nice. I still can’t believe I was so lucky.” I swallowed, an odd chill flowing up my spine.

“Somehow I doubt luck was involved,” said Kian, glancing behind me. I heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to see Raef appear with a glass of soda. He walked over to me and placed it in my hand. Thank goodness.

“Kian. Didn’t know you would be here,” said Raef, standing next to me, his arm brushing against mine. He almost seemed . . . possessive. “You remember Eila, I’m sure.”

“She is quite unforgettable.” Kian’s voice was rich and smooth like Raef’s. My brain was filled with cross-wired neurons thanks to being stuck between the two local gods.

“Uh . . . are you in school, Kian?” I asked, trying desperately to pull my thoughts together.

Kian just gave a stunning smile, “You could say I am studying risk management. Assets and what not.” He pushed off the couch and headed for the stairs, but paused in front of me, as if he was searching for a perfume. “I’m headed out for the evening. Take care Miss Walker,” he said quietly, then left Raef and me standing alone.

I am not sure whether it was the coolness of the coming night, or the fact that Kian made me ill at ease, but suddenly I felt cold. Raef saw me shiver, “Let’s get inside and warmed up.”

I nodded, but in the distance I could see Kian open the door to the fancy sports car. He paused as he was about to get in, and looked back at me. Even at the distance he was, my body felt panicky. Raef must have picked up on my stiffness. “Are you alright?” he asked as I watched Kian drive out of the parking lot.

“Yeah. Just cold,” I said, smiling weakly at him.

His brow furrowed, “You sure?”

I glanced back to the lot and seeing the empty parking spot made me feel better. I smiled, a more calm and happy state settling in, “Absolutely. I’m fine.”

He looked at me like he was debating whether or not to believe me, but then smiled, “How about something hot to eat? It’s nearly dinner.”

“That sounds fabulous!” I declared and we went down the stair
s, back into the yacht.

In the kitchen of the
Cerberus
, Raef and I gathered vegetables and cooked chicken to make soup. It was the perfect night for warm comfort food.

We stood next to each other at the counter working on our mutually assigned tasks. Raef pulled the meat from a cooked hen while I chopped a variety of vegetables. I pulled a second celery stalk from the bunch beside me and started cutting it. “So, where exactly are your folks?” I asked, trying to be nonchalant, though truly curious.

“Well it’s, uh, just Kian and me,” said Raef, glancing in my direction. “Our folks were older when they had us. My dad died when we were younger and my mom died a while ago too. Our parents left us well off, financially. We’ve done well on our own.” He reached over to my celery that I had finished chopping. “Here, let me put this in the pot.”

“I’m sorry about your family,” I said as he gathered the little green pieces.

He looked at me and gave a small smile. “Thanks,” he said as he took my assignment over to the pot.

I grabbed a skinned potato and sliced it through. “You know, my folks are gone too,” I said, slowly cutting. The knife looked razor sharp and brand new. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Raef’s hands pause briefly over the chicken.

“I had heard that at school,” he said quietly, “I’m very sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, flipping the spud sideways to make another cut. “I never really knew them. A friend of my mom’s raised me. I love her like a sister. To me, she
is
my real sister,” I said, confident in the truth I just spoke.

Raef added the chicken to our soup, then walked around the counter and sat down on a stool opposite me, watching me slice. “I also heard that you inherited the house.”

“Well, not really inherited, more like,
won
,” I said, remembering back to that day the auction house called. “I still don’t know why, but some random person bid on the house when it was up for auction. I guess a trust fund for it had run out, so it was put up for sale. This buyer, whoever the heck he is, then said the house was to go back to its rightful owner and gave MY name.”

“So you’re related then? To the original owners?” asked Raef.

“Well, yeah, but I mean I never knew about them, or the house. It was built by my great great great great grandfather, or something like that,” I said, myself losing track of the “greats.”

“Well, it had to be a family member that bought the house. Eccentric Uncle or something?”

“That’s the thing,” I said, knotting my forehead. “I don’t have any living relatives that I know of. Nobody. So how this person found me, I just have no idea.” I shook my head. “Oh, and here is the real kicker!  He paid cash and never used his name on
anything
, so I can’t even thank him.”

“No offense, but that didn’t strike you as strange?” asked Raef, watching me.

“Well yeah, but . . .” I sighed, “We had nothing to lose. Mae and I were barely making ends meet. She was working these awful jobs and I knew my fate was going to be the same.  We saw this crazy gift as a chance to start again. Leave behind all the crap and just reinvent ourselves, you know? And so far, the Cape is such a perfect place for us.”  Well, except for the weirdo outside my window the other night. Okay, maybe
perfect
is a tad too strong of a word
.