Half-Hitched. Isabel Sharpe

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СКАЧАТЬ were pitched to the west of the house, and a tiny cabin, built for the twins to overnight in, perched to the east. At this hour the sun’s full strength had started to wane and colors were deepening—the blue of water, the dark green of firs, graybrown shades of the rocky coastline, and the puffy white of clouds. One of his favorite places on earth. And given that he’d been all over the world and was working out of Hawaii these days, he had plenty of Edens to choose from.

      Taking a deep breath of the cool, salty air, he shifted his focus to the other guests, in groups on the front porch and down on the grounds. Fifteen to twenty people. At thirtyfive, he probably had five to ten years on most of them. It had been a long time since he’d been in this type of social situation. On his boat, he was the authority, keeping just enough distance from guests and employees, making the ship’s safety and smooth operation his first priority, the comfort of his passengers a close second. Onshore, he was a temporary or occasional friend to whomever he knew or met wherever he was.

      He took a bigger slug of beer than he needed. Paul caught his eye and raised a finger, indicating he’d be right back. Derek waved him off and took another drink. He was a grown man; he could introduce himself to—

      “Hi.” The woman was right under his nose, smiling at him, about to come up the steps as he’d been about to go down.

      “I’m Addie.” She pointed to her chest, as if he might not know for sure she was talking about herself.

      So this was Addie. To put it mildly, she was not what he expected.

      The way Paul had described her beauty, wealth, breeding and untouchability in his besotted way had Derek imagining a chilly, elegant brunette dripping sophistication and disdain. The kind who’d show up at a casual island wedding like this one in stiletto heels, linen and pearls. The kind Derek had taken around the world in his boat, the kind with rich older husbands they were always looking to cheat on.

      This woman was wearing soft-looking midthigh black shorts, a casual rose-colored scoop-necked top half covered by a gray hoodie, and flat natural color sandals on slim feet. She had deep coffee eyes and striking dark brows, curling short dark hair—a sexy-schoolgirl fantasy come to life. She reminded him of a down-to-earth version of the French actress Audrey Tautou.

      He had major hots for Audrey Tautou.

      “You’re Addie Sewell.”

      “Yes.” The expressive brows lowered in amused confusion. “How did you know?”

      “You’re world famous.”

      “Ha!” Her wide mouth broke into a smile that took away a good deal of his weariness. “You must be a friend of Paul’s.”

      “Derek Bates.”

      “Oh.” Her smile faltered, her eyes clouded over, the temperature around them dropped forty degrees. Brrrrr. “Sarah’s told me a lot about you.”

      “That’s funny.” He forced himself to chuckle, visualizing a roll of duct tape over Sarah’s mouth. “Sarah doesn’t know a lot about me.”

      He expected an insult, an argument, a stinging defense of her friend, and was surprised to find her considering him thoughtfully. “I just know what she told me.”

      Derek sighed. He’d leave bad enough alone. It was his word versus Sarah’s and this was her territory and these were her people. “I’m pretty sure I’m sorry to hear that. When did you arrive, Addie?”

      “Three days ago. Sunday evening.”

      “From…?”

      “LaGuardia.” She glanced around, apparently not sure she should be talking to him.

      “Into Portland?”

      “Bangor.”

      “Okay.” He nodded too many times, at a loss what to say next, how to act around a lovely woman who’d undoubtedly been told by her best friend that he was something you should avoid stepping in.

      “Weather been good here this week?” Really, Derek? The weather?

      “It’s been okay.” She fidgeted with the zipper on her hoodie. “Not great. But at least no rain.”

      “What have I missed so far?”

      “Oh. Well. We’ve gone hiking on the mainland. Done a lot of hanging out…” She laughed nervously. “I can’t really remember.”

      “It’s okay.”

      “Oh, Quoddy Head. We went there. The easternmost point in the U.S.”

      “Nice.” He nodded again. This was torture. He wanted to skip the small talk. Go straight to what mattered, how she felt about life, whether she was doing what she loved, whether the world was a gorgeous place or a disaster, whether she was seeing anyone, and whether she liked kissing all night under the stars…

      He nearly hugged Ellen when she clapped her hands from the front stoop.

      “Hey, y’all, we’re ready. Come through the kitchen, grab something to carry and we’ll head down to the beach.”

      Derek finished his beer and tossed it into the recycling container set up outside. If he wanted to have fun this week he’d need to do better than this socially. Part of his job was chatting with passengers, so making small talk should be second nature. Instead he felt as if he were trying to exercise a muscle atrophied from years of disuse.

      After grabbing a cooler, he joined the procession to the beach, aware of Addie’s presence in the crowd as if she was lit up in neon. He still couldn’t get over how different she was than he expected, or how much she aroused his…curiosity.

      The beach was cool and comfortable; a light breeze kept the mosquitoes manageable, though repellent was passed around before everyone settled in. To his relief, Derek eventually got a second—third? fourth?—wind, and was able to relax and enjoy himself. The guests were friendly and easy to talk to, all interesting people with solid views on life and their places in it. The food was simple and abundant: excellent crab rolls, nachos, potato salad and coleslaw, and the beer flowed like…beer.

      A few times—more than a few—he glanced over at Addie and caught her just looking away, though she made no move to approach him. He wasn’t sure what to make of her surreptitious inspection. Was she repulsed? Fascinated? Attracted? He was certainly attracted. The more he looked at her, the longer the evening went on, the more he remembered stories Paul told about Addie, the more he was intrigued, and the more beautiful she became. Maybe it was the softening light. Maybe it was the beer. He wanted to talk to her again. Alone.

      As the sun lowered, there was a move to light a bonfire and gather around it. Not enough sleep and too much beer, food and conversation propelled Derek to his feet. He could use a break and had a deep need to watch the sunset from a remote corner of the island he remembered as a prime viewing spot. A quick look showed him Addie was missing from the crowd. He’d have liked to invite her along, but that was probably a terrible idea given what she still thought of him, so it was just as well.

      Excusing himself from Sarah’s friend Joe, who’d turned out to be an interesting and friendly guy, and Carrie, a piece of work who’d settled on Joe after flirting with pretty much every male at the party, Derek left the beach and headed СКАЧАТЬ