Chapter 5
Arthur tossed a nice-sized snapper into the cooler. All in all, it had been a good day on the ocean. The sun shone bright. The waves were light. And the fish were biting. The only problem was, he couldn’t get Maren, among other things, off his mind.
It had been five years since his short-lived marriage ended, and in that time, Arthur hadn’t met a woman who fascinated him to the point that she’d crept her way into his dreams.
When he woke up this morning, the only thing he could think about was the vision of Maren dancing in his mind like sugar plums.
The dream hadn’t been anything spectacular as far as dreams went. He’d taken Maren and the dog out on his boat. There was light conversation, hand-holding, but then out of the blue, he’d pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips firmly against hers in a sizzling scorcher of a kiss.
That had been what jarred him from his sleep. The last time he’d felt a stirring that deep had been with his ex-wife. Michelle was a magnetic woman. Deeply passionate about her work as a fundraiser for underprivileged children. She had a big heart and he adored that about her.
But Michelle struggled to forgive and forget. That woman could hold a grudge longer than anyone he knew. The second her feathers got ruffled, for whatever reason, that was it. She didn’t care if she was right or wrong. It didn’t matter. If she was pissed, she’d stay that way for days. Weeks even. Once he was deployed for three weeks. They fought the day he left. He thought for sure she would have calmed down by the time he returned. He came bearing gifts and a heartfelt apology.
She wouldn’t even listen.
That had been the beginning of the end. Love and marriage shouldn’t be that hard. Of course, Michelle always tossed Sarah in his face.
He blinked, reliving the haunting memories of the house that had been burned to the ground, killing everyone inside, changing his life.
He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and reached for the faded picture. Nineteen years had passed since he had kissed Sarah on the front porch of her parents’ home for the very last time. Had he known, he might not have left that weekend with his buddies for a fishing trip.
Running his finger over the top of her head in the picture, he allowed the memories to flood his mind like a kaleidoscope of the best and worst year of his life.
“I’m going to find who killed you and your family and I’m going to make them pay. I promise,” he whispered. He kissed the image and then put it back in his wallet.
Shasta whined, bringing his mind to the present and the dark-haired woman who made him question his desire to stifle anything other than casual sex. Shit. The second that thought hit his brain, he cringed. He wasn’t an asshole for not wanting a long-term relationship. But putting that idea out in the universe suddenly seemed inappropriate.
“Let’s get you home, big girl.” He fired up the engines and pushed the throttles. The bow rose out of the water before planning off. He navigated through the channel and slowed when he hit the no-wake zone.
God, he loved days like these. Birds chirped in the sky. Other boaters waved as they passed with their favorite country music song blaring. All this gave Arthur the chance to mask the pain he’d been carrying in his heart for the last eighteen years.
The afternoon sun beat down on his face as he pulled the boat into the marina. Shasta stood on the bow, her tail wagging feverishly, always making Arthur smile. The life of a dog was simple, and Arthur had strived to make his life as unpretentious as possible, devoting his time and energy to work and fishing.
His buddies often busted his balls about the way he lived. They called him a minimalist. Not that anyone but Rex had the financial freedom to live however they wanted. But Arthur took it to the extreme as he currently lived in a one-bedroom apartment that was barely furnished.
“Yo, Arthur!” Rex waved from the yacht he kept at the end of the dock where Arthur”s boat was moored. “Hey, Shasta, you’re a good girl. I bet you are.”
Shasta barked twice. She lowered her head to her front paws and her butt moved back and forth with her tail. It looked as if she wanted to jump off the boat and swim right to Rex.
“Stay, Shasta,” Arthur said, just in case.
Rex had grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth. He could afford things that Arthur and the rest of the guys couldn’t even imagine, but there was an uneasiness to Rex that no amount of money could satisfy. And honestly, Rex didn’t use money to feed his inner beast. Sure, he had a yacht. A couple of cars.
“Catch anything?” Rex asked.
“A few snappers. And one nice size Mai.”
“Were you planning on freezing it? Or would you like to share? Buddy, Duncan, and Kent were just about to order a pizza.”
Arthur pushed the throttle to neutral, letting the boat drift into the slip. “Sounds like I’m coming aboard. Just let me bring Shasta back up to the main house while you assholes come get the fish off my boat.”
“Why is it that we’re always doing the heavy lifting?” Rex asked.
“Because I was team leader in the Air Force, I’m your boss at the station, and I have?—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Rex laughed.
Shasta yelped a few times as she jumped from the boat to the dock, her toenails skidding across the wood planks.
“Relax, girl,” Arthur said, but Shasta took off toward the boathouse. That’s when Arthur saw Maren hobbling down the dock and her dog racing toward her. All Arthur could picture was Shasta jumping on Maren, hurting the cuts on her leg or knocking her off-balance and sending her into the ocean.
“Shasta! Come.” Arthur jumped from the boat, tossing Rex the line, keeping an eye on Maren and the dog that almost never listened. He jogged down the dock. “Shasta!”
Maren held on to one of the posts as if to brace for impact. She raised a hand.
Thankfully, Shasta slid to a stop a few feet away.
“Sit,” Maren said, holding up her hand.
But the dog did the complete opposite and bolted.
Shit.
Arthur got to Maren and the dog just as Shasta rose up on her hind legs.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Arthur reached out, grabbing the dog around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest, and scratching her belly. “No jumping on pretty ladies. It’s not nice.”
Shasta whimpered as he set her paws down on the dock.
“Thank you. She jumped on me three times this morning, once landing right on my stitches.” Maren patted the section of her thigh covered with a gauze pad. “But I have to admit, she’s a lot calmer and listens better than she used to. My mom says that’s all thanks to you.”
“She’s a good dog.” Arthur patted Shasta’s head. “How are you feeling this afternoon?”
“Like my car nearly blew up.” She laughed. “And I look like someone used my face as a punching bag.” She cupped her cheek.
“It’s not that bad, and you look better than you did yesterday,” he said. “What are you doing down here? You should be resting.”
“I was in the marina, talking with my mom and the potential investor, and I saw you coming in. My mom thought I should invite you up for dinner.” She spoke clearly, but the pace at which the words flew out of her mouth made him wonder if she had a little nervous energy.
The thought pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“Your mom thought? Or you thought?” He arched a brow. The need for clarification gave him a good sucker punch.
“My mom suggested it, right before she informed me she had a date. So, this is her way of shoving the two of us together again.” Her smile made his breath hitch. “But I still haven’t thanked you properly, so I’m game if you are.”
“You’ve thanked me plenty.” He glanced over his shoulder. His buddies stood on the stern of Rex’s yacht, doing their best to act as if they weren’t staring. “I’m supposed to have dinner with those lug nuts.” When he turned to face her, he looked past her, off into the parking lot where he saw two men getting into a dark sedan.
One of the men looked a little too familiar.
He took a step around her and squinted. “Is that the investor? What was his name?”
“Hudson Nally.”
“Which one is Nally? Who is the other guy?” Arthur pointed toward the car with his heart hammering in his throat.
“Nally is the one about to get into the driver’s side and the other guy’s name is Michael Santoro. Why?”
Neither name rang a bell, but the Santoro guy looked a little too much like Richie Hernandez, who was the muscle for Alberto Ferro, one of the largest drug traffickers in all of Texas. Only what would he be doing in Florida using an assumed name?
“I’m sure it’s nothing, but has your mother signed anything yet?” The last thing he wanted to do was spook Maren or her mother. Not until he found out for sure, and from this distance, he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure he was looking at Richie.
“Not yet. Why are you asking about that?” Maren’s fingers curled around his biceps, shocking his body with sparks flying from his head to his toes. It surprised him that he had such a visceral reaction to her touch. Maybe it was because of the quick clash between the past and the present. Whatever it was, this wasn’t the time or place.
“Hang on.” He pried her fingers off his arm and took off in a full-out jog toward the car, cell phone in hand.
The two men had climbed inside the vehicle, but before they moved out of the parking lot, he’d been able to snap a picture of the license plate.
Arthur: Find out whatever you can on this plate, specifically if there is a connection to Ferro.
Darius: Got it! But I want more information.
Arthur: I think I might have saw Hernandez. My eyes could have been playing tricks on me, but who knows. Anyway, let me know what you find out.
Darius: Anything for you.
Arthur turned, glancing between the marina’s main building and Maren, who limped in his direction with a scowl and a dog at her side.
“Mind telling me what that was all about?” She stopped a few feet in front of him with her hands on her hips and narrowed eyes.
He minded all right, but only because he didn’t want to scare her if he was wrong.
On the other hand, maybe she should be frightened.
“I honestly don’t know, but don’t let your mother sign anything with those people until I can do some more digging,” he said sternly, which he wished he could have taken back.
She folded her arms across her chest. “How do you know them? I also want a specific reason why I need to keep my mom from signing. Not just because you’re asking a lot of us to go on your blanket statement, but because this is none of your business.”
By the way her glare burned his skin, he better give her some answers. He contemplated for a couple of seconds, taking into consideration all the different scenarios and stories he could spin.
“The man you say is Santoro looks an awful lot like a man wanted for arson in a different state. I want to make sure I’m wrong.”
“Arson?” Both her brows shot up. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, ma’am, I’m not.” He opted to leave out the fact that many federal agencies were watching Ferro and his organization, trying to nail the bastard on anything. “It’s probably not the same guy, but better safe than sorry.”
Maren wrapped her arms around her middle. “I have to admit, I got a bad vibe from them. They remind me of a snake oil salesman. I know the type. They say the right things. Have all the right answers. And honestly, I have my reservations.”
He pressed his hand on the small of her back, his thumb gently rubbing near her spine. “I’ll walk you up to the house while you tell me why.”
She cocked her head. He didn’t know if her reaction was from the way he touched her or the situation.
He went with the latter.
“They assumed they would walk out of here with a deal. Kudos to my mom for not needing me to step in and tell them we needed time to look over the contracts. Discuss it. And have our lawyer take a look.”
“Your mom’s a smart woman,” he said. “Is the deal a good one?” He glanced toward the waterfront. Rex stood on the back of his boat, tossing his hands to the sides.
Arthur gave him nod, indicating he’d be back down. He needed to stay close to the marina and keep a watchful eye on Maren and her mother.
Without having to share the same space as Maren because he might do something stupid like kiss her.
“It’s not horrible, but it has some problems. And it concerns me that they are investing in a place like Mother’s, too.” Maren’s leg obviously bothered her as she continued to limp, leaning against him.
He curled his fingers around her hip, helping her to take some of the pressure off. “Did they leave you with the paperwork?”
She nodded. “What bothers me the most is my mom told them she needed to discuss this with me, so when we told them we needed more time to look everything over and had a few other questions, they mentioned how they had limited funds and had other businesses in the area beating down their doors, so tomorrow the offer might not be there. I get that tactic. I’ve seen it a million times in business, but it seemed over the top in this particular situation.”
“How did you leave things?” he asked as they stood at the bottom of the porch steps. Placing his hand on her other hip, he turned her to face him.
“That we’d discuss it and get back to them after we had a chance to go over everything.”
He watched her lips move, painfully aware that his hands were on her body and his mouth wanted to devour hers, which was completely inappropriate considering the topic. Taking a step back, he dropped his hands. “Do you mind if I take a look at the offer?”
She glanced up at the house as the front door swung open and Shasta raced inside.
“Hello, Arthur,” Gretchen said with a bright smile. “Care to come in for a drink? Some dinner? I’ve got lasagna in the oven.”
“Thanks, but I’m having dinner with Rex and some of the guys tonight.”
“Oh, well, that’s too bad. Maybe another time?”
“Absolutely,” he said a little too enthusiastically.
“Mom, can you get the paperwork with Mr. Nally’s offer? Arthur has some concerns, and I think it would be good to have another set of eyes on it.”
“I suppose we can do that,” Gretchen said with a scowl. “But I called Jefferson, and he believes it’s a good deal.”
Maren looked between him and her mother, and he suspected she contemplated telling her mother his thoughts about who Santoro might be.
He gave his head the slightest of shakes, hoping she caught the movement.
Maren squeezed his biceps, her warm hand burning his skin with fiery passion. “It can’t hurt us to have Arthur look at the offer. You trust him and since we’re both on the fence, maybe he can add some insight. I get you trust Jefferson and we’ve known him a long time. No offense, Mom, but Arthur doesn’t have any skin in this game. Jefferson has a bit of an ulterior motive. He wants to free up your time. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. It’s just reality.”
“All right. I’ll go get the papers they left behind.”
He kept his focus anywhere but on the woman standing in front of him with her fingers electrifying his skin.
“Looks like I owe you another big thank you,” she said.
He shook his head. The pull she had over him made his insides melt, but it tore his heart in two.
“No. Seriously. I know it’s not much of a gesture, but please, let me take you out to dinner or something else. Whatever you enjoy doing. It would mean a lot to me.” Her dark eyes pleaded with him like sad puppy eyes that no decent human being could possibly say no to.
But he would have to.
“I’ve only got another day off, and then I’m back on duty at the station and who knows what the Aegis Network will throw in my direction.” His skin cooled the second she dropped her hand.
“Oh. I see.” The hurt in her tone sucker punched his gut, but it was the hint of sadness that radiated from her hickory-rich-as-the-earth’s-soil eyes that made his heart beat a little faster.
“I really do appreciate the offer, and if I had more time?—”
“Here you go, Arthur.” Gretchen appeared, handing him a thin folder. “Sure you don’t want to have a drink with us?”
“How about tomorrow evening when I return the papers?” He smiled at Maren, hoping she’d smile back.
Well, a slight smile was better than nothing.
“Perfect,” Gretchen said.
“Good night, Arthur.” Maren turned and hobbled up the stairs, leaving him standing at the bottom, feeling like the utter idiot he was.
Dumbass. How hard is it to have one fucking dinner with a woman? It wasn’t like she was after him to get married or anything.
The moon danced across the dark sky, casting a white glow over the water as Maren stared out into the marina at the boat with Arthur and his buddies, which was all lit up. Faint music echoed in the night. She could only see silhouettes of the men aboard, but she knew exactly which one was Arthur.
The one sitting at the table, nursing a longneck, with papers in his other hand.
Maren wrestled with the corkscrew until the cork popped off and the smell of dry pears filled her senses. Nothing like a good dry white wine.
Normally, she wasn’t the type of person to drink alone, but between being jobless, nearly dying, and her mother getting more dating action than her, Maren figured a few glasses were just what the doctor ordered.
She put the bottle on ice and brought it out to the front porch.
Growing up, she never thought it was weird living at the marina with her house across the parking lot, overlooking the long docks that stretched out into the Intracoastal Waterway, housing everything from pleasure boats, to fishing boats, to million-dollar yachts. She hated to admit it, but it felt good to be home, even if only temporarily.
Though she knew without a doubt she did not want to return to New York City. She’d never been cut out for that lifestyle. However, she had no idea what she wanted to do or where she wanted to go. The last five years of her life had been about Tom. Every decision she made had been based on what Tom might think or want.
The days of putting a man before herself were over.
Laughter rippled across the water, stealing her attention, reminding her of Arthur and his stubbornness. She hadn’t really taken offense to his refusal to allow her the slightest gesture of gratitude, but more, it piqued her curiosity as to why he was so opposed to having dinner.
Maybe he had a girlfriend?
Maren nixed that idea quickly. If he had one, she was sure he wouldn’t be spending one of his last night’s off work with his buddies. Besides, he probably would have told her when she asked for the millionth time.
Maybe he was gay?
She laughed out loud. Well, anything was possible.
Regardless, she was going to think of a way to repay him.
Fishing stuff!
Quickly, she pulled out her phone. “Hey Siri, call Shea O’Leary.”
“Calling Shea O’Leary.”
Got to love modern technology.
“Hello?” Shea’s voice bellowed from the speaker. “Maren? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, I was wondering if you could help me out with a gift for Arthur.” Maren swirled her wine, staring at the liquid as the moon’s rays glistened through the glass.
“I don’t really know him all that well.”
“Does he shop at your store often?”
“Often enough, why?”
She took a small sip of the crisp, cool wine. “Since he won’t let me buy him dinner, I thought I’d get him a bunch of fishing gear. Tackle. Poles. Whatever he generally buys and maybe a few hundred dollars in bait that he can use at his leisure.”
“I can help you with that. Can you swing by sometime tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Hey, babe, are you ready?” A muffled male voice filtered through the phone speaker.
“One second, okay, Rusty?” Shea asked. “Sorry, I’ve got a date with that guy from the shop the other day. You remember, the angry one.”
“Yeah, and he tried to chase down the asshole who hit me. Please thank him for me, and I’d like to do something for him as well.”
“No way, sister. He’s all mine.”
Maren laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and you better fill me in on all the details from tonight.”
“Come around lunchtime and we can sit down for a bit.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Maren tapped the phone before setting it down on the table. The faint hum of a motorboat engine tickled her ears. She loved the sounds of the water, whether it be the lapping of waves against the shore, birds overhead, or even the annoying owl that lived in the live oak covered in Spanish moss in the backyard.
The ripples from a boat danced under the moonlight, but the small vessel had no lights on.
Idiots.
She stood, taking the first few steps down the porch when she saw a flame fly from the boat, heading toward the dock right where the gas pumps were located.
“No!” She dropped her glass and it shattered at her feet as she raced down the steps, ignoring the pain in her thigh as well as the sharp tear in the soft part of her arch.
The flame landed about twenty feet from the gas, but whatever the flame was attached to rolled down the dock, dangerously close.
As she barreled down the dock, Arthur and his men leaped into action, taking what must have been fire extinguishers, and began dousing the flames that kicked up as the wood dock ignited.
Another firebomb flew through the air, this time landing on a boat, which immediately caught fire, sending thick smoke and orange flames into the sky.
“Take my boat and go after them,” Arthur shouted.
Maren ripped off her shirt and wrapped her hand in the fabric before smashing the glass to the emergency fire hose at the base of the dock.
The crackle of flames grew stronger as the flames tore through the boat, getting way too close to others. She didn’t know much about fires, but she knew enough that if they didn’t contain this one, her entire marina, and the men on the dock, would go up in one colossal explosion of epic proportion.
She quickly hooked up the hose and tried cranking the wheel to get the water flowing, to no avail.
“Get back,” Arthur ordered as he shoved her aside, taking the hose in his one hand and turning the wheel effortlessly in the other. He looked her up and down before yanking off his shirt as the water flowed from the hose. “Put this on, you’re half-naked.”
She didn’t argue, tugging his shirt over her head.
“I’ll get another extinguisher from the?—”
“Just stay away from the docks, got it?” He lowered his chin, glaring.
“I can help.”
“You want to help? Go to the street and wait for the first responders to get here and bring them down. I already called it in.”
If someone could shoot daggers from their eyes, it would be in the expression on Arthur’s face with his narrowed stare and furrowed brow.
“Listen.” She took a step forward.
“I told you to stay back.” He pressed her hand against his chest. “I can’t be worried about you and do my job. Now just go.”
“But—”
“Maren, just do as you are fucking told and go wait for the fire trucks while I try to save your goddamn marina.”
She gasped, then snapped her mouth shut. Heat erupted from her toes, scalding her skin right to her forehead.
Arthur turned and ran down the dock with the hose. Had the flames for the boat not just flicked higher in the sky, she would have marched herself down the docks and given him a piece of her mind.
Instead, she shuffled up to the parking lot, her thigh aching and her foot throbbing. Sirens blared in the distance.
She glanced over her shoulder. Arthur and his men worked to contain the fire.
Well, at least she knew for sure that this time a simple thank you would be all he deserved.