Uncharted Waters Part 5

Rolling her eyes, she punched him good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, it's good news."

"Well, I guess I can handle a little good news." Bending slightly, he scooped Kevin out of the seat and into his arms. "Come on."

Alison couldn't help but notice the way his biceps bunched and flexed when he lifted her son, and she felt an odd flutter in the pit of her stomach. His hands looked large and strong, but incredibly gentle as he cradled the boy against his big body. He stepped onto the dock then turned to help her, but Alison waved him off and jumped effortlessly onto the dock. Once they had disembarked, he closed the hatch and they started toward the office.

They were midway there when the sound of tires crunching over gravel drew her attention. A dark SUV with tinted windows pulled into the parking lot and stopped near the dock. Holding Kevin, Drew stopped to watch as four casually dressed men climbed out of the vehicle and started toward them.

"Do you have another tour this morning?" she asked.

"No, but sometimes tourists make their appointments in person." He turned to her. "Why don't you take Kevin inside? Let me see what they want, and I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

She accepted Kevin, then looked from Drew to the four men. They looked harmless for the most part. Sneakers. Boat shoes. One wore a colorful Hawaiian s.h.i.+rt, the other three golf s.h.i.+rts. Three were clean-shaven. One wore a neatly trimmed beard. Tourists, she thought. Only they didn't look friendly, and they didn't look like they'd spent much time in the sun.

Reaching into his pocket, Drew pressed his office keys into her hand. "The big round key fits the door. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

Aware that Kevin was heavy and growing restless in her arms, she started toward the office. Once inside, she carried him to a well-worn leather sofa and laid him down. He looked exhausted. Smiling down at him, she brushed her thumb over his forehead, felt a quick swell of love. "Sleep tight, sweetie," she said and kissed his soft cheek.

She was sitting on the sofa, watching him sleep, when the office door swung open a few minutes later. Drew looked at her, then flipped on the overhead lights. "Sorry it took so long."

"No problem." Rising, she crossed to him. "Did you set up the tour?"

"Yeah, they want an aerial tour over some land they're thinking about developing into a golf course. They're going to meet me back here in a couple of hours." He strode to a dented file cabinet, withdrew a fluffy beach towel, then crossed to the sleeping boy and draped it over him. "The air conditioning gets a little cool in here sometimes," he said.

The simple gesture of kindness touched her. "You've got a real soft touch." At his frown she smiled and added. "For a tough guy."

His mouth curved. "You'll rethink that once you taste my coffee."

"Lethal, huh?"

She wandered the small office while Drew scooped and measured and poured. It was a large room. Mini-blinds covered the windows, but still let in a good bit of natural light. An old laminate desk stood adjacent to the door. A computer, phone and several manila folders lay on the desk. In the corner, several fis.h.i.+ng trophies from area tournaments decorated a display case. A small closet contained what she a.s.sumed were office supplies, an array of tools and several orange traffic cones. The other door led to a smaller room that had been transformed into a tiny, but functional bathroom, complete with a standup shower and a framed caricature of The Big One that Got Away on the wall.

"Coffee's ready."

She turned to find Drew standing behind her with two cups in his hands. "Thanks." She took the cup from him and sipped. "It's good."

"Yeah, I make terrific engine sludge."

She tried not to stare as he sipped, but it was difficult. Drew Evans had a commanding presence and was d.a.m.n easy on the eye, even if he was just a friend. He might stand only an inch or two over six feet, but the man definitely had a way of filling up a room.

But despite the fact that he was attractive, Alison didn't miss the signs that all was not well. Signs that worried her more than she wanted to admit. From the bloodshot eyes, to the weight loss, to the tension she saw in his shoulders, she knew Drew was a troubled man. She wondered about its source, wondered if the shadows in his eyes had anything to do with what had happened four years ago.

Taking his coffee with him, he crossed to the desk and sat down. She took the sled chair opposite his desk, studying him as he opened a manila folder and began to read. "I honestly can't remember the last time I've seen Kevin so excited," she said. "He really had a great time."

"He deserves it. He's a great kid."

She glanced over where her son slept, felt a layer of warmth settle over her at the sight of him snuggled beneath the beach towel. "He had a pretty severe asthma attack last night right before bedtime."

Drew set the file down, his eyes narrowing. "He's all right?"

"He's fine. I think he was just tired. The medication we're using-an inhaler-is very effective and he was resting comfortably within ten minutes."

"I'm glad." He glanced at the little boy and grimaced. "Asthma's a tough break."

"He manages amazingly well. He's a real go-getter."

"Maybe he takes after his mom."

The compliment shouldn't have meant so much, but it did.

"So, are things going well for you?" She tried to make the question sound as innocuous as possible, but she could tell by the caution that rose in his eyes that he knew it was not.

"Things are terrific," he said.

"It's obvious you're doing well professionally." She looked around the office, then shot him a direct look. "This is a great place you've got. I'm glad you didn't give up flying."

He rolled his shoulder. "I thought about it. I mean, after...the accident. But I couldn't do it."

"You love it too much to ever give it up. It's part of who you are."

"Yeah," he said. "I guess it is."

She studied him for a moment. "How are you doing on a personal level?"

The walls went up even before she'd gotten the question out. "Alison..."

"Come on, Drew. It's me. I can see all is not well. Talk to me."

"Hey, we've covered this already, haven't we?"

She shook her head. "We've talked. We've covered all the topical stuff. But we haven't really talked. I mean, like we used to. About the things that really matter."

"Things have changed since we were...friends. I mean, since...Rick. We're not the same people we were before..." He let his voice trail. "I've changed, and so have you. That's not necessarily a bad thing."

"It is if you're unhappy."

"I'm not unhappy, okay?" As if realizing he'd snapped, he sighed, then cursed under his breath. "Sorry. I'm not very good at this."

"I guess that's your way of telling me your personal life is none of my concern?" She softened the question with a smile.

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable and adorable and very male. "That means my personal life is personal. I'd like to keep it that way, if you don't mind."

She regarded him thoughtfully, realizing that the dynamics of their relations.h.i.+p had, indeed, changed since she'd last seen him. Back when Rick was alive, she and Drew had shared an easy, comfortable friends.h.i.+p. He'd been like a brother to her, and she'd considered him a very good friend. She wasn't quite sure how things had changed, but they had and she found herself missing the old Drew.

"Are you seeing anyone?" she asked after a moment.

He looked up from the file and frowned at her. "What kind of question is that?"

"One from a concerned friend."

"Look, I'm single," he said. "I'm fine with that. A guy can be single and still be happy, can't he?"

"You don't have to snap."

"I'm not-" He cut the denial short and laughed outright. "You always were good at prying."

"Only because I care about you."

He s.h.i.+fted in the chair, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm a big boy, Alison. Don't push. I'm fine."

"Rick's mom seems to think you're still troubled by what happened. I mean, the accident."

He threw up his hands. "Oh, for chrissake!"

"Are you?"

"Marybeth needs to find something to do besides gossip about me."

"She's concerned because she cares for you." Reaching across the desk, Alison touched his hand gently. "So do I."

Leaning forward, he put his other hand over hers and grinned at her the way he used to a lifetime ago. For an instant, he looked very much like the Drew she'd always known. Only this time Alison saw through the bravado to the very troubled man beneath.

"Marybeth Myers is the biggest mother hen in the coop," he said. "Next time you talk to her, be sure to tell her that for me, okay?"

Since he seemed so determined not to discuss the state of his life, she let it go. At least for now. "You should call her yourself, Drew. I'm sure she'd like to hear from you. It's been almost a year since she's heard from you. She's afraid you think she blames you for what happened to Rick."

Drew looked away at the mention of Rick.

"She doesn't," Alison added quickly.

"I know she doesn't. I just didn't realize it had been so long. I guess I'm a little behind on my calls. I'll call them tonight. Satisfied?"

"Promise?"

"Scout's honor." He raised his right hand.

She tried to frown at him, but couldn't hold back the smile because for an instant, the old Drew was back and he was pouring on the charm.

"So are you going to tell me your good news or are you going to sit there and psychoa.n.a.lyze me all morning?" he asked after a moment.

She'd been so excited about the tour-and so intent on making sure he was all right-she'd forgotten about her news. "Oh, well...I just wanted to let you know...I had lunch with Seth and Emma."

"Seth and Emma? I didn't even know you knew them."

"I met Seth once through Rick years ago."

Drew stared at her blankly, and she could see that he was wondering where she was going with this.

"Seth offered me a job at Evans Yachts."

His face went from incredulous to angry in a matter of seconds. "He what?"

"Seth offered-"

"I heard you the first time," he snapped. "I just don't understand why he would do that."

Alison gaped at him, flabbergasted that he would be against the idea of her working for his cousin. "Why on earth wouldn't he hire me? I'm more than qualified. Not to mention the money-"

"That's not the point."

"Look, if it's about the trouble he's had with the boat-"

"I'm glad he filled you in on that little detail."

"I know about the explosion," she said.

"In that case, you know it's not safe for you to work there."

"It was an isolated incident, Drew. He doesn't expect any more trouble."

"Yeah, well, drawing from my own experience, I can tell you trouble has a habit of showing up when you least expect it."

"He's hired extra security-"

"He had no right to involve you."

She glared at him, aware that her heart rate was up, that she was angry, that she didn't understand why he'd reacted so negatively. "You're overreacting."

"You don't know the whole story."

"Yeah? Well why don't you fill me in?"

"I can't. d.a.m.n it." He reached for the phone. "I'm not going to let him do this."

"It's not your decision," she said.

Ignoring her, he punched in numbers. She set her hand over his.

He gazed steadily at her from across the span of his desk, his eyes hard, his nostrils flaring slightly. "Alison, it's not a good idea for you to work there."

"I'm sorry you disapprove, but unless you can give me a good reason why I shouldn't, I'm going to take the job."

He stared at her for an interminable moment, then eased his hand from beneath hers. "Did he tell you what happened to the previous administrative a.s.sistant?"

"If I recall, he married her."

That shut him up, but it didn't soften the lines of worry etched into his face. All she could think was that he was too young to have such old eyes.

"Look," she said, "it's only a couple of days a week."