Uncharted Waters Part 12

She turned to him. "Drew, we're adults-"

"I think we ought to cool it for a while after today."

That wasn't what she'd been expecting him to say. She tried desperately to look nonchalant as she tossed the soiled towel into the trash and dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'll take Kevin fis.h.i.+ng today and show him a good time, but I think maybe it would be best if you and I didn't see each other for a while."

"And you came to this conclusion because..."

"Because last night got out of hand. Way out of hand." He glanced toward the door, looking uncomfortable for the first time despite the sungla.s.ses. "I don't want that kind of relations.h.i.+p with you."

Hurt tangled with humiliation and plunged through her like a knife. For several heartbeats, she couldn't get enough oxygen into her lungs to speak. When she did, her voice shook. "Exactly what kind of relations.h.i.+p do you think we should have?"

"I'd like to stay friends. d.a.m.n it, I mean that. I care about you. And I care about Kevin. A lot. But I can't let it go any further than that."

"Do I have any say in the matter? I mean, last time I checked I was over twenty-one and I have been widowed for over four years now."

He flinched, but he didn't look away. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Maybe I want you to say what you feel."

"I just did."

She felt herself recoil, but for the life of her couldn't say if it was physical or purely emotional. All she knew was that it was powerful and she felt it all the way to her core. "Have you come to this conclusion because of what happened to Rick?"

He looked down at his sneakers and took a deep breath as if to fortify himself. "This has nothing to do with Rick. This has to do with me."

Liar, she thought, but didn't say the words. What could she say? Maybe he was right. Maybe she was lonely and pathetic and he honestly didn't want to get involved with her. Or maybe, amazingly, she had done her grieving and was ready to move on with her life. Maybe Drew hadn't been able to do that.

The thought shook her so profoundly that she didn't know what to say or do next. All she knew was that Drew Evans was a good man. A man she cared for deeply. A man she was very much attracted to. A man who wanted absolutely nothing to do with her on a personal level because he was still dealing with the loss of his best friend.

"Mommy, I got my shoestring in a knot!" Kevin blew into the kitchen like a little tornado, then skidded to a halt just in time to keep himself from stepping into the growing puddle of milk. "Hey, how come there's milk all over the floor?" Without waiting for a reply, he launched himself at Drew. "Drew!"

"Hey, sprout!" Drew said, wrapping his arms around the little boy. "Are you ready to catch some big ones?"

"Yeah!" Kevin spread his arms as wide as they would go. "This big!"

"You got a hook that big?"

Kevin looked troubled for a moment. "I have to bring my own hook?"

Chuckling, Drew released him and the little boy slid to the floor. "I think I've got one you can borrow."

Because she was still shaking inside, Alison turned to the stove and stared blindly down at the egg and began to scramble it. She told herself it was silly to feel so hurt. It wasn't like she and Drew had a serious relations.h.i.+p or anything. All they'd done was share a couple of brain-melting kisses. But she knew that wasn't the truth. Last night they'd done a whole lot more than kiss. And she'd felt a h.e.l.l of a lot more than she'd intended.

Without looking at either male, she crossed to the toaster and pressed the b.u.t.ton. Vaguely, she was aware of Drew kneeling to untie the knot in Kevin's shoelace. She reached for a paper towel, tore off several and knelt to wipe up the spilled milk.

"Let me get that for you."

"I've got it."

"Ah, I think the egg is getting overcooked."

d.a.m.n. d.a.m.n. d.a.m.n! Practically tossing the paper towel at him, Alison rose and crossed to the stove and slid the egg onto a waiting plate. Next to her the toast was just starting to brown, so she popped it up and set two pieces next to the egg and began to b.u.t.ter them.

"White or chocolate milk?" she asked Kevin.

"White."

She turned toward the opposite counter just as Drew rose from cleaning up the last of the spilled milk. Their eyes met briefly, but Alison couldn't hold his gaze. Not after what he'd said. Not hurting the way she was.

"Excuse me," she said.

He stepped aside, but she heard his sigh. Ignoring him as best she could, Alison poured Kevin a gla.s.s of milk then carried his plate and gla.s.s to the small dining-room table. "Okay, young man, your breakfast is ready."

"I only want one piece of toast."

"You've got two."

"But I-"

Bending to kiss him on the top of his head as he sat down at the table, she added, "And they'd better be gone by the time I get your backpack packed or you won't be going fis.h.i.+ng today."

Alison felt two sets of male eyes on her back as she left the kitchen to stow the asthma medications into Kevin's backpack. She heard Drew excuse himself, but she didn't stop until she'd reached Kevin's room.

"Alison."

She didn't look at him. She couldn't because somehow hurt had transformed into anger. To make matters worse, she felt like a fool. Because she didn't know how to deal with any of those things, because she didn't want to, she picked up Kevin's medications and held them out for him to see.

"If he gets tight, make sure he uses his inhaler." She held out the small L-shaped tube and the s.p.a.cer.

Drew glanced at them. "Is the other piece the s.p.a.cer?"

For a moment she was surprised that he would know what a s.p.a.cer was. Then she remembered he was an EMT. Of course, he would know about those things. That was one of the reasons she'd agreed to let Kevin go fis.h.i.+ng with him in the first place. "Because Kevin is so young, the specialist recommended that we also use a s.p.a.cer. It helps younger children get the medication into their lungs. One end of the s.p.a.cer has a mouthpiece that goes into Kevin's mouth. The inhaler plugs into the other end." She demonstrated, then handed it to him. "Give it a try."

Taking both apparatuses from her, he handled them both with the skill of a man who would be capable in an emergency. Trying not to be too impressed, or too relieved, Alison nodded. "I gave him his oral medication about half an hour ago." She reached for the small brown prescription bottle on the dresser. "If he gets tight, you can give him one more."

"I don't think we'll be out too long."

"I'd prefer it if he wasn't out fis.h.i.+ng any more than a couple of hours."

"Sure." He glanced down at the inhaler and prescription bottle in his hand, then gave her a direct look. "Are you angry about something?"

She raised her brows innocently and gave him a cool look. "Why would I be?"

"Because I'm not very good at...talking about my feelings."

"I guess that's one thing we can agree on."

He frowned. "Alison-"

"You've made your position perfectly clear, Drew." She met his stare. "I get it. All right?"

Turning away from him, she started toward the bedroom door. "The doctor's number is on the prescription bottle."

"He's going to be fine."

Alison knew that but it didn't keep her from worrying. "You have my cell phone number."

"Yeah."

In the kitchen, Kevin was finis.h.i.+ng the last of his milk at the sink, as if he were in a race against time. "I'm almost ready!"

"I think we'll get there just in time for all the big ones," Drew said.

Kneeling next to Kevin, Alison opened the container of sunscreen, poured a small amount into her palm and then began rubbing it onto her son's arms and legs.

"Mommy, I don't need any of that stuff. It smells funny."

"No sunscreen, no fis.h.i.+ng, young man."

"Jeez!"

"She's right, sprout," Drew put in. "A smart fisherman wears plenty of sunscreen."

Resigned, Kevin sat quietly while Alison rubbed the white cream into his thighs, forearms and face. When she finished, he slid off the chair and headed directly for the front door. "I'm ready to go, Drew."

Trying hard to ignore Drew, Alison walked to the doorway and smiled down at her son. She felt as if today were the first day of school and she was one of those overprotective mothers who ended up crying harder than their kids.

"How about a kiss goodbye before you sail out to sea?" she said.

Kevin ran back to her. "Bye, Mommy!"

Kneeling, she took him in her arms and kissed his cheek. "You smell like a coconut."

"See? That screen stuff smells funny."

"Be careful today, and please don't forget to wear your cap, okay?"

"'Kay."

Alison rose to find Drew already at the door, watching her, his expression inscrutable behind those mirrored lenses. Looking quickly away, she helped Kevin with his backpack and then followed him to the door. Never taking his eyes from her, Drew opened the door. Kevin walked out onto the porch, set down his backpack and began to rummage.

"We're not finished talking about this," he said.

It was difficult for her to meet his gaze, but once she did, Alison couldn't look away. It was as if his gaze held her suspended, like a b.u.t.terfly pinned to canvas. "I think we've said everything that needs to be said."

"Alison-"

"If you could have him back here by two, I'd appreciate it. I don't want him to get too much sun or get overtired."

His jaw muscle flexed, but he didn't argue. And without so much as another word, he turned to her little boy and they started down the sidewalk toward his truck.

Alison watched them leave, feeling more unsettled than she'd felt in a very long time. She told herself the only reason she felt that way was because of what had happened last night. She'd had a lapse in judgment. Drew was a good enough friend to point it out to her as opposed to letting it become a mistake she would regret for the rest of her life. For goodness' sake, she should be relieved that things hadn't gone any further.

But as she closed the door and faced the empty house and the lingering scent of his aftershave, she wondered if she really would have regretted it if it had.

CHAPTER TEN.

Drew hated it that she was angry with him. He hated it even more that he'd hurt her. He would rather cut off one of his own fingers than hurt Alison Myers, a woman who had already endured more than her share of pain. As he pulled into the parking lot of the marina, he told himself things were best this way. A little heartache now would save them both a lot of pain later. The knowledge didn't keep him from feeling like any less of a b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"...right, Drew?"

He glanced over at the little boy on the seat next to him. It was the third time in the last hour Kevin had said something and Drew hadn't been listening. "What did you say, sprout?"

"I was wondering if you could maybe put the worm on the hook for me." He looked at Drew with big brown eyes that were so much like Rick's it hurt to look at him. "I mean, I'm not afraid of worms or anything, but they're kinda gooey."

Drew didn't quite manage to hide his smile, but it felt a little sad on his face. If life were fair, he thought, Rick would be here fis.h.i.+ng with his son, not him. "Sure you're not," he said.

"I'm not."

Reaching over, he pulled Kevin's hat down over his eyes. "Since we're ocean fis.h.i.+ng, we're not going to use worms, okay?"

"'Kay."

The slip where Seth Evans kept one of his smaller fis.h.i.+ng vessels was quiet at nine o'clock in the morning. The die-hard fishermen had already set out. The snorkelers and sightseers hadn't yet arrived. Drew figured he'd timed this pretty well.

White seagulls wheeled and screeched overhead as he and Kevin walked side by side down the concrete pier. Fis.h.i.+ng boats, sailboats and yachts of all shapes and sizes tugged at their moorings, the ropes groaning and creaking like old hinges. A balmy breeze eased in from the south, and Drew wondered if there would be storms later.

Near the end of the pier he stopped and pointed to the sleek twenty-eight-foot cabin cruiser. "There she is."

Kevin's mouth dropped as his eyes drank in the length of the boat. "Wowee! It sure is big!"

The Flamingo swayed restlessly at the end of the pier, like a flighty horse spooked and ready to bolt. The sight of the boat never ceased to impress Drew. Designed and built by Seth Evans several years back, she took to the open sea with the grace and agility of a dolphin, but at the same time possessed all the comforts of a five-star hotel suite.

"Ahoy, matey!"

Drew looked over to see Seth's sister, Laura Evans, waving as she came out of the cabin and stepped onto the deck. Wearing khaki shorts and a loose-fitting camp s.h.i.+rt, she looked very much like the marine biologist she was. Her light brown hair was pulled back from her face and Drew could see that it was still damp. By the look of the dive tank and flippers in her arms, he figured she'd already been diving.

He nodded at the burly deck hand securing the ropes and wondered if Seth had added additional security since the boat explosion that had nearly killed him and his then a.s.sistant, Emma, a month earlier. Now married and happily expecting their first child, Seth and Emma had been left stranded on a remote key for several days.