Chapter Nine #2
Hours later, after satiating our desires, more snorkeling, and eating lunch, Ellie sketched while I piloted out to deeper water.
The sea stretches out around us, a few fishing boats dotting the horizon, the island a blur in the distance.
Anchored again, we’re lying on cushions on the deck, baking in the sun.
The boat rocks with an easy rhythm, water lapping gently against the hull, and I realize I haven’t thought about work once.
Not about any of my pending deals, the potential expansion, or even the calls I’m ignoring.
My usual high-speed life has boiled down to the feel of Ellie’s hand in mine and the quiet sound of contentment I never knew existed until this moment.
For possibly the first time ever, I don’t want for more, other than more of this.
“Will you tell me more about your family?” Ellie turns her head toward me, squinting. Her hair is still damp at the ends, curling against the cushion.
I roll onto my side and push up on my elbow, a grin tugging at my lips. “Sure you’re ready for that?”
“It’s a conversation, not a proposal,” she says with amusement.
“What would you like to know?”
She turns onto her side, mimicking my position. “I don’t know. What are they like? What are your relationships like? You know about my relationships with my family, but I don’t know much about yours, other than what the general public knows.”
“Sometimes I think the general public knows too much,” I admit before I think to keep it to myself.
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I understand wanting to protect your privacy. It must be hard to be in your position in a world where everyone thinks they have a right to stick their nose into your business.”
I love the way she lets me be me and doesn’t act put off by it.
“There are a lot of nefarious people out there, which makes it tough, but I don’t mind sharing with you.
We’re a close-knit family. When something goes down with one of us, we all try to be there to help.
I’m close to all my siblings, but not annoyingly so.
I’m the one they bounce things off, and I’m probably closest to Victory. ”
“I got that sense from the way you described teaming up with her and Clay to move to Ridgeport.”
“Yeah. We’re also the most alike. We’re not the type that needs to be entertained, and we both analyze the hell out of things before making decisions.
” As I say it, it strikes me that I’m not doing that with Ellie.
That’s as comforting as it is alarming, but I’m too happy and relaxed to want to pick that apart right now.
“Vic fell in love young and married a much older man. She was widowed a few years later, and that changed her.”
“I read about that. I think it would change anyone.”
“Absolutely. It took years for her to learn to live again, but now she’s engaged to a great guy, Wells Silver. Vic needs me less these days, which means she’s truly happy, although now she’s trying to couple off everyone else.”
Ellie laughs. “Happiness breeds happiness.”
“So they say. I’m happy for them. My business partner in the restaurant industry, Jared Stone, and I partnered with Wells in a new endeavor. We’re opening a restaurant together in New York City in the spring.”
“That’s exciting.”
“It is. As for my relationship with the others, Clay is the most impatient of all of us. He wants things to happen immediately and rarely takes time to think them through.”
“That kind of makes sense,” she says. “As a quarterback, he had to think on his feet.”
“Exactly. When he calls, it’s all energy all the time, and I’m the guy who slows him down enough to figure out the minutiae.
He’s a mover and shaker, mostly doing things for others these days, working with kids in sports and running a foundation that helps less fortunate families who have kids in sports make ends meet, and he is madly in love with his wife, Pepper. ”
“From what I read, your whole family gives back. Your parents did something right, and it would stink if Clay weren’t madly in love with his wife. What about Flynn and Noah?”
“We’ve got a pretty typical relationship.
Noah is several years younger than me, and over the years I’ve had to remind myself that he’s in a different stage of life than I am, but that’s to be expected.
We’re still close. We touch base often, joke around and give each other hell, but he and Flynn also call when they need to figure things out.
Noah’s got as much energy as Clay, but he’s not as impatient, and he and Flynn are both adventurous and analytical, which makes puzzling out things easier.
Like me, they can’t stand to be confined. ”
“Probably because of how you were raised, like modern-day Mowglis,” she says with a smile.
“Actually, for me and Flynn that makes sense, but Noah was only seven when we moved back to Ridgeport. He grew up in a more typical way than we did.”
The breeze picks up, sweeping her hair into her face. She gathers it over one shoulder and says, “Is that good or bad in your eyes?”
I have a feeling Ellie is as analytical as I am. “I don’t think it’s either, but I do think it made it easier for him to fit in and settle down when we moved back, while the rest of us were fish out of water for a while. Maybe we still are.”
“You all seem to have found your streams.” Her eyes light with a smile. “I can see how it might have been easier for Noah, but you said he’s adventurous. So maybe the three of you are equally jungle boyish.”
“Them more than me. They still go on real adventures. Flynn with Discovery Hour and Noah with his marine biology projects, while my biggest adventure these days is caving.”
Her eyes light up. “That sounds like a huge adventure. How’d you get into it?”
“When we were kids, we weren’t allowed to explore caves on our own, which made me want to learn why.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Did you drive your parents crazy about it?”
“Probably, but my parents bought me books on caving, and my father taught me to rock climb when I was about ten, and after we moved back to Ridgeport, I signed up with a local grotto, which is a caving club, and my love grew from there.”
“And you call yourself a dork. What do you like about caving?”
“Everything. It doesn’t matter who you are aboveground.
Caving strips it all down to the essentials.
You can’t fake your way through a cave. Every step, every handhold matters.
It forces you to be present and to learn patience and control, in a way daily life doesn’t.
It’s grueling, and it taxes muscles you don’t realize you have, but at the same time, it’s one of the most peaceful experiences I’ve ever had.
Almost meditative at times. And don’t get me started on the sights, which are spectacular, or I’ll bore you for hours. ”
“You could never bore me,” she says softly. “It sounds incredible. Do you go caving with Flynn and Noah?”
“I do, when we can coordinate it. We’ve all got some of our grandfather in us.”
“Why? What’s he like?”
“He’s a handful. Probably a lot like your father. He’s a retired paleontologist and archaeologist who doesn’t understand what the word retired means. He’s no good at sitting still.”
“That does sound like my dad. I don’t think he’ll ever sit still.”
“In my grandfather’s case, it’s not such a bad thing.
My grandfather would drive everyone, including himself, crazy if he didn’t have something to keep his mind busy.
He’s on a dig in Alaska right now, and he’s constantly scheming his next adventure.
My grandmother pretends to hate it, but she also says it’s half the reason she fell for him in the first place.
We visited them on several digs over the years, and I can tell you their love is stronger than the tides. ”
“They’re lucky,” she says a little wistfully.
“They are, but as with any partnership, I think it takes a lot of work. Especially with my grandfather.” I run my hand over her hip and give it a squeeze, “Did I answer your questions?”
She winces. “Am I asking too many?”
“Not at all. I told you I like a woman who knows how to research.”
“In that case, I have one more question,” she says sweetly. “You said your brothers and sister come to you to talk things out, but how do you see yourself? Are you the glue that holds everyone together, or do you give advice but prefer to remain on the outside of their drama?”
“You’ve got great intuition. I’m both. They come to me when things get messy or confusing, and I try to make sense of it with them. As we figure things out, the drama usually loses its steam.”
“I like how you say with them, not for them.” She tilts her head, her eyes curious. “Who do you go to when you can’t make sense of something?”
“My father, for business. He’s still the smartest man I know.”
“And for personal stuff?” she asks carefully.
“My relationships don’t usually last long enough to require counsel.”
“Because you get bored,” she says as if it’s a fact.
Amused, I say, “I never said I get bored. I said I never met a woman who held my attention better than a deadline. Most of the women I meet are more interested in what I have than who I am, and that becomes apparent rather quickly. I also travel a lot, which makes long-term relationships difficult.”
She arches a brow. “Is that by design? Stay busy to avoid commitment?”
Sharp doesn’t begin to define this woman.
She sees right through my excuses, and man, I like that she’s not afraid to call me on it.
“I think it’s twofold. If the attraction is only physical, meaning there’s no intrigue in each other beyond that, and the ability to have real conversations about things that matter isn’t there, I see no reason to pretend otherwise.
And as far as traveling goes, I enjoy it, but I will admit that it’s easier to stay in motion than to try to figure out if and when to stop. ”
“Sounds like you’re rootless,” she says softly. “That’s probably why you’re single.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just haven’t found someone who makes me forget what day it is.”
She studies me for a beat. “Have you ever forgotten?”
And there’s that intrigue. “What day is it again?”
She grins.
“What about you? Why are you still single?”
She rolls onto her back and closes her eyes. “Because I’m too smart not to be.”
I lean over her, blocking the sun, and gaze down at her. “Sounds like a copout to me.” I press my lips to hers and then I lie beside her, taking her hand in mine. “You don’t have to share if you’d rather not.”
“There’s not much to share. There was someone once. Cody. We were together for three and a half years.”
“That’s a long time.” I turn my face toward her. “What happened?”
She meets my gaze. “We wanted different things.”
“What types of things?”
“I wanted him, but he didn’t want me.” She shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
I know first loves gone wrong are part of many people’s lives, but I hate that she gave her heart to a guy who made her feel unwanted, and my protective urges rise to the surface. I push up on my forearm. “He must’ve been crazy. I’m sorry you went through that. I’m sure it hurt.”
“It did.” Her lips curve into a small, thoughtful smile. “But he wasn’t crazy. He was just young. We both were. We were only twenty, and it taught me a lot.”
At twenty I was in college, already earning money hand over fist, planning my empire, but for some reason, it seems awfully young to think about marriage. Although plenty of people do it, so what do I know?
“What did you learn?”
She hesitates for a moment. “That love doesn’t always mean forever. Sometimes it just means you cared enough to try.”
My chest constricts, and I wish I could take away the heartache I hear in her voice. I press my hand to her cheek and brush my thumb over her lower lip. “I commend you for being brave enough to try. Some of us never get that far.”
I press my lips to hers in a tender kiss, and when we part, she exhales softly, as if letting something go. Hoping she’s letting go of all of the heartache she’s endured, I lie beside her again and interlace our fingers, swearing never to be someone she has to recover from.