CHAPTER THREE
BELLA
“Where are you going?” Neil Lawrence’s eyes had deeper, darker circles beneath them than any other day this week, or this year, though I’d become used to his not so new nocturnal habits. I didn’t know what time my father came in last night, and I had learned not to ask.
Keep quiet, don’t say anything. Don't rock the boat.
Cute, considering my destination for the day.
“I’m going sailing.”
He frowned at me. “You’re not a sea girl.”
“Nope. And you’re not a night owl.” I kissed his cheek. “Bye, Dad. Will you be home tonight?”
He shrugged one tired shoulder. “I don’t know.” The kind of helplessness that rolled off him stung.
I dithered at the front door to the beach house on the hill where I could see most of Love Beach that we had owned most of my life. “Do you want me to stay?”
His mouth twitched. “No, Bella. Have fun. Who are you?—”
The doorbell rang, and I nearly left the mortal plane.
I opened the door, cussing in my head, though I stopped when I saw his shadow hovering just on the other side.
“I left some of my years behind thanks to you,” I informed Falcon. “You told me to find you at the marina.”
He had the grace to look abashed, and it was cute as hell on his carved face, the dark brows and hair, his arched lips and olive skin. Something told me this man was not anywhere near as innocent as he seemed—I knew who his father was, after all—but Falcon had proved to be nothing but sweet in the short time I’d known him.
I refused to judge him by the actions of his family’s reputation rather than his own.
“This is your date?” My father broke into my reverie.
“Yes. This is?—”
“Falcon Gianio.” Falcon grinned and extended his hand.
I blinked. Somehow, I expected something to pass between them, seeing as we met on his boat the night before, but Falcon didn’t hold back, clasping my father's hand firmly.
Dad looked slightly mollified. “And you know how to sail?”
“Yes, sir. The captain gave me a refresher course, but I’ve failed many times. I used to race maxi yachts a few years back, actually.”
“No kidding?” Dad slipped his hands into his pockets, looking between us. “Alright, then. Not too late, and call me if you need me. I’ll be…” Dad nodded toward the study.
I bit my lip, wishing I would say something but also knowing I wouldn’t. Work kept him busy, and not thinking about Mom. Or her absence. “I know. I’ll be safe.” I reached back blindly, my fingers extended.
Falcon’s hand closed firmly around mine. “She’ll be back at a reasonable time, sir. Good weather all day. I checked twice.”
“Neil. And that’s good to know.” Dad’s shoulders relaxed a fraction more. “I’ll see you later.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek, squeezing my shoulder and wandered off to the other end of the house.
I watched him leave, itching to follow, to say something, but what? We lost Mom years ago, and his grief had never matched up with mine. Besides, it wasn’t fair of me to ask him to put a hold on his life to remember her.
“Ready?” Falcon traced his fingers through my hair, tucking a few strands behind my ear.
I nodded, suddenly keen to leave the house. “Yes. I am.”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my temple that jolted me with its familiarity and the secure presence of him as he drew me out of the house and down to the marina.
“Feel better?” Falcon ran his knuckles across my shoulders.
I suppressed a shiver as I looked over my shoulder at him, trying not to strangle the boat’s steering wheel — excuse me, the helm. I was still getting used to the language that flowed so easily from him, and was well out of my depths. But as before, Falcon didn't make me feel stupid or insignificant about not knowing something.
Rather, his passion shone through as he showed me how to steer and to use the little tails in the equally small clear panel in the sail spread wide above me to gauge the wind and when to tack.
I had the impression I’d never conquer that last part. My first attempt left us stalled in the water while he howled with laughter, set us back up and had me try again. My second attempt actually caught the wind, and I was determined to keep those little tails in their square, flying.
Mind, with the way he couldn't seem to stop from touching me, that made concentrating a hard call.
We left from the marina early in the morning but that had been hours ago. He had charts out, and we were headed for the lee side of a small island I remembered hearing about ages ago that the kids often used to ride out to when I was younger to go swimming. I was never allowed to go when they did and by the time I came back the next summer, those same kids seemed to have formed friendships I never broke into after that.
“You’re doing amazing.” Falcon resting his hands on my hips, his thumbs turning small circles over my white denim capri pants. “Are you sure this is your first time?”
“On any boat that wasn’t attached to the jetty by a strong rope,” I reassured him. “Your instructional technique is good.”
“Or you listen well.” He leaned down, his lips brushing the skin just below my ear.
I shivered, unable to hold that back, and his soft laughter afterward doubled down on the action.
His hands closed on my hips tight then let go, a breath shuddering out of him as he stepped back, creating distance between us. I missed him straight away, aching for him, but the way his breath came hard at my back…I wasn’t game to turn around to confront him.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “See the island? That’s our destination.” His hand covered mine on the helm. “Mind if I take it from here?”
I relinquish the wheel, cramping my hands. “Please,” I smiled. “That was fun but…don’t rely on me to do anything technical.”
“You’re much better than you think.” Falcon watched the little window above us, then glanced around as the island came in closer, his brow knitting as he sought a particular spot. “There.”
The next minutes were a rush as he pulled the sail in, working like a one man army hell bent on total efficiency.
I had no idea what he saw, but he clearly did as the anchor went down with a tremendous thunk . He threw the boat into reverse and once the anchor dragged and grabbed, he stopped and we floated in a wide circle just off the island in the still deep water.
Everything around us, except for a few birds and the wind, was silent.
“That was impressive.” I gripped the glossy railing, watching the small white caps lap at the rocks a hundred yards away. “You read the water like others do a road.”
“I had a master give me his best cheat sheet last night after I left you.” His chest brushed my back as he slid his hands around my stomach. “And his grandson leant me his boat this morning after I promised to let him teach me to fish.”
I giggled. “You, fish?” I tipped my head back, resting against his shoulders. Flacon let me, his body a wall of strength that felt so good when I could just let everything go. “Do you want to learn how to fish?”
“Not at all.” His grimace filtered through his voice as he caught my chin in his fingertips and tipped my head back a little more. “Right now, though…” He leaned down enough to brush his mouth over mine once, then again. “I’d like to feed you.”
“Not what a girl wants to hear,” I muttered.
He laughed at me, not letting go just yet. “Let me have my way,” he cajoled. “At least for now.”
“Somehow I suspect you're rather good at that.” I let him manhandle me to a soft cream leather bench seat that lined both sides of the small cockpit.
“And I thought you hadn’t noticed.” Falcon disappeared down the small hatch that led to the inside of the sailing yacht with a small kitchenette and a few long berths plus a tiny bathroom I was inherently grateful for, and reappeared holding a tray of salad and chicken rolls plus a bottle of white wine. “Tada da.”
“You’ve been busy.” I reached down and liberated everything from his, reveling in the shock on his face. “Doesn’t anyone help out where you're from?”
He quickly schooled the emotion off his face and back into the semblance of the easy going persona I’d come to associate with him. “Not the— thanks,” he murmured, running his fingers along my arm.
Falcon climbed one handed back onto the deck and helped unload the burden onto the fold out glossy wooden table that magically appeared from the other side of the helm.
“He loves this boat. The boy you borrowed it from.” I tidied a small corner of his things to make room for the platter that followed.
“He’s a few years older than me, so not a boy, to be fair.” He shot me a sideways amused glance. “What makes you say that?”
I took a roll off the plate and filled it with salad and some pulled chicken. “Look at how well the boat is varnished, or whatever you call it. There isn’t a mark on it. That’s care and love and a whole lot of hours.”
Flacon stilled. “You see a lot.”
I shrugged. “It’s kind of obvious, I guess?”
“Perhaps.” He settled next to me. “We see the world through a different filter.”
I ate for a moment before I realized he just sat there, his own lunch untouched, watching me eat. After a moment I put my roll down and cleared my throat. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”
He started. “Huh? Not at all.”
I nudged him gently. “It’s weird eating alone with you staring at me like a creeper,” I whispered.
Falcon stared at me, then laughed so loudly he scared birds perched on a rock a few dozen yards away. “Hell, girl.” He draped an arm across the back of the seat and tipped his head back. “I haven’t laughed like that since I left campus.”
“When was that?”
“Last week.”
I rolled my lips inward. Anyone else might be horrified at that statement, but I got it. Besides, I didn't want to call him out on a lifestyle I doubted he could control if his family was anything like mine. “What are you studying?”
“Economics.” He toyed with my hair. “What about you? Are…”
“Art history. It’s a family business. But also, I love it.” I shrugged, all too used to hearing why my choices were poor.
“Sounds magical.”
“It’s dry.” I laughed. “You know, you wanted to feed me but that’s a door that goes both ways. Eat.” I lifted his roll and wiggled it.
Both eyebrows raised. “Where I’m from—” He broke off for the second—or was that the third time—this morning.
I mirrored his eyebrows. “Doesn’t that give you a headache after a while? You’re gonna need Botox. Where you’re from, what? Doesn’t anyone dare challenge The All Great and Mighty Falcon Gianio?” I teased.
He snored. “Hell, no. You don’t want to find out what happens to the ones who do,” he muttered, despite the way his smile curved up at one side. He took a bite of his roll, regardless.
We finished our rolls in silence, and I sipped at the small glass of wine he poured for both of us afterward, when he wouldn’t let me help clean up.
I knew he meant it. I knew exactly who he was when I met him the night before. Dad talked about all of them, warning me away from the group below which was why I was left on the deck after he checked there was no one left wandering around with assurances I’d be safe, if somewhat frozen.
A shiver rippled over me. I reached for Falcon’s jacket I’d left on the seat beside me in the sunshine. His hand on my wrist stopped me.
“Cold?” he murmured, sliding his other arm across my back. I nodded and he tucked me into his side, resting his chin on the top of my head. Warmth pervaded me, sinking bone deep. Deeper than the fluffy material ever could. “I wish we could stay here like this.” He stroked my arm gently in time with the sway of the boat.
“We can’t.” I hated that I said anything and shut my mouth fast.
Stupid, stupid.
It sounded ungrateful, and he’d been so sweet, saving me from a day of worrying after Dad, who would have told me to leave him alone in the nicest terms anyway.
Just another solitary day wandering about Love Beach. The perfect place to be the loneliest person in the world.
“Lost you there.” His touch grazed my cheek as he tipped my head back to rest against his shoulder.
Warm breath brushed my lips. “Sorry.” I bit my lip. “I?—”
“You don’t need to apologize to me, Bella. Ever.” He shifted so we faced each other, though he still held me close.
My eyes drifted shut. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Despite being up close and personal with Falcon Gianio’s stunning, carved face, I blocked him out. Okay, I started to say, but his mouth pressed gently to mine, warm and open, in the lightest, noninvasive kiss possible.
Breath caught in my throat. We stayed like that for the longest moment, his hand curved around my cheek, stealing warmth from each other. Slowly our lips parted. He drew back like he had the night before, and the smallest sound left my lips.
Don’t stop like that . I wanted to say it, but I couldn't, and tipped my chin down to hide my disappointment. As always, I was unwilling to push into that space where if I did something wrong, he could reject me and that would hurt twice as much.
The soft growl reverberated through his chest where my hand rested, toying with the buttons on his shirt, breaking me out of my headspace.
“Don’t do that, Bella,” he murmured, the lightest warning note in his voice.
“Do what?” I couldn't look at him, my cheeks blazing. What did I do wrong?
“Don’t hide from me. You are beautiful, just like your name.” His hold drew my chin back up. I reluctantly met his gaze. “If you want something from me, say so.”
My mouth dried. “I don’t— I mean, I can’t?—”
I stumbled over every word, stuttering just like six-year-old me used to do when I was shoved on stage at school and ended up running off crying because I couldn't remember the words. The spotlight had never been my favorite place.
His gaze searched my face, and softened a little. “Tell me to stop if you don’t like something. I’ll go slow. Can you do that part?” He frowned a little.
I nodded. “I can do that.”
“Good girl.” He tucked his hands around me, winding his fingers in my hair, and settled his mouth over mine again. The gentlest pressure in a sweet kiss.
But this time, he didn’t pull away.