Chapter 9
Every time he laid eyes on Julia, it was like he was seeing her again for the first time.
When she came out the hotel’s main door with her equally attractive sister, he’d noticed only her.
She’d brushed her long dark hair until it fell in soft, shiny waves down her back and had a smudge of sunscreen on her cute nose.
She wore sunglasses, so he couldn’t see her always-expressive eyes.
He’d have to be dead not to notice how her cutoff denim shorts hugged her sweet ass or the way her tank top showed off a spectacular pair of breasts.
While her physical attributes were hard to miss, he was far more concerned about her emotional well-being after their conversation on the jetty.
Especially knowing what he did about her father and her family’s history.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“You were gone awhile.”
“Katie came up to see me, and we got to talking—as we do. Sorry to make you wait.”
“I didn’t mind waiting. Your grandmother found me, and we had the nicest chat. She was telling me stories about running the hotel for more than fifty summers.”
“She’s seen it all, that’s for sure.”
“She seems like a really great person.”
“She’s the best. We never would’ve survived without her and my gramps growing up.”
“Is that right?”
“Uh-huh.”
He waited, hoping she’d say more, but she didn’t.
After a short walk that took them past the ferry landing, they arrived at the public safety dock where the police, fire and harbor master boats were docked.
Deacon went into the office to check in with the officer on duty.
“Hey, I’m Deacon Taylor, the new harbor master. ”
“Oh, hi, I’m Colby, one of the assistants this summer.”
Deacon shook his hand. “Great to meet you. I was hoping to take one of the boats out to get the lay of the land, if that’s all right.”
“Of course. I’ll get you set up.”
“Awesome. I assume it’s okay if I bring someone with me?”
“As long as you have a life jacket for any passengers, you’re good to go, and there’re a dozen life jackets in each boat.”
“Perfect.”
Colby walked him through what he needed to know about the oversize inflatable boat with the center console and twin hundred-horsepower outboard engines.
The words Gansett Island Police Department were printed on each side of the boat, and a police light was mounted on top of the wheelhouse.
The boat was similar to the one he’d used in his last job, so it didn’t take long for Deacon to feel comfortable with the setup.
“We monitor Channel 16 on the radio,” Colby said.
“There’s a handheld unit in the console. ”
“This is great. Thank you so much.”
Colby shook Deacon’s outstretched hand. “No problem. Looking forward to working with you.”
“Likewise.” Deacon helped Julia onto the boat.
Colby got off the boat and helped with the lines as Deacon stood at the helm to back the boat out of the slip.
Growing up on Gansett, he’d spent most of his childhood on boats of one kind or another, and the routine was second nature to him.
As they were exiting the South Harbor breakwater, one of the high-speed ferries approached.
Deacon gave the much larger vessel a wide berth and told Julia to hold on as they rode the waves kicked up by the ferry’s wake.
“Whoa,” Julia said. “That was wild.”
“I love this shit. The wilder the better.” With Julia seated next to him, he pushed the throttle forward and opened it up for the ride around the island’s northern coast on the way to the much larger and busier New Harbor, also known as the Great Salt Pond.
Among other things, the harbor master was in charge of collecting fees for transient boaters who picked up the town’s moorings and for ensuring safe boating practices in the waterways around Gansett Island.
After a brief, swift ride, Deacon made the turn that would take them through the narrow channel that led into the Salt Pond, passing the Coast Guard station to the right as they went by. The pond was full of boats on moorings and at the docks at McCarthy’s and the other marinas.
“So many boats,” Julia said.
“It’s a fraction of what’ll be here by Fourth of July weekend.”
“I remember how crowded it would get in the summer.”
“The town manages five hundred moorings that turn over on a regular basis.”
“Holy crap. That’s a lot.”
“It’s a busy job. Luckily, I’ll have help. We have at least three people on duty on the weekends and two on weekdays after this week.”
“Is it more than what you managed in your last job?”
“Way more. Like, five times more.”
“I can see why you might’ve been hesitant to take that on.”
“It wasn’t the job that gave me pause. It was working for my brother and giving him control over me.” He shuddered dramatically. “The idea of that is enough to make me puke.”
“People speak very highly of him.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“You might find he’s not what you think when you get to know him as he is now, as opposed to who he was when you were growing up. And he might discover the same is true about you.”
“Maybe. Who knows?” He didn’t hold out much hope for a mid-thirties change in course for brothers who’d been at odds most of their lives.
“I don’t ever remember a time when we weren’t annoyed with each other about something.
Just this morning, for instance, he accused me of being inappropriate with his wife because I went over to ask if I could borrow her iron. ”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he came home to find me holding his daughter—which is apparently another crime against humanity—and talking to his wife while she ironed my shirt after offering to do it for me. I was actually enjoying the time with my niece and sister-in-law, both of whom I only just met the other day.”
“I’m sorry he accused you of that.”
“It’s par for the course with him. At least his wife, Tiffany, was pissed at him over it, so that’s something anyway.”
“She should be pissed. Does he think his wife is going to take one look at his younger, handsome brother and think, ‘Oh damn, I chose the wrong one’?”
Deacon laughed. “Well, she did pick the wrong one, but it’s too late now. She’s stuck with the jackass.”
Julia laughed. “Yes, she is. But maybe it was just a momentary lapse in judgment on his part. He has to know you’d never go near his wife.”
“Of course I wouldn’t.” He raised his sunglasses and gave her his best sultry stare. “So you think I’m handsome, huh?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Too late. You can’t take it back now.”
Julia groaned. “Me and my big mouth.”
During an hour-long ride through the pond, Deacon took note of the various mooring numbers and observed the boats, people and activity without seeing anything of concern.
People were having fun and doing so safely.
That was all that mattered. As he directed the boat toward the channel to leave the pond, another harbor master boat was coming in.
Deacon took his boat out of gear so he could stop and talk to the other officer, a young blonde woman. “How’s it going? I’m Deacon Taylor.”
“Jillian Stark. Good to meet you.” Like Colby, Jillian appeared to be in her early twenties and was probably a college student on summer break.
“You, too. Everything’s looking good at the moment, but I’ll leave you to it. See you soon.”
“Have a good one.” Jillian waved as she headed into the pond as they made for the exit.
Once clear of the channel, Deacon pushed the throttle forward and headed to the left to make a full circuit around the island. They were nearing the southernmost part of the island when Julia placed her hand on his arm.
“What’s that?” She pointed to something in the distance.
“Where?”
“Over there.” She stood and leaned forward for a better look. “Is it a seal?”
When Deacon finally saw what she was referring to, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He steered the boat closer and realized at the same instant that Julia did that they were looking at a dog swimming frantically.
He cut the engines down to idle when they were close to the animal.
“Oh my God! We have to get him!” Julia went to the side of the boat and called out to the dog. “Come here, baby. We’ll save you.”
The dog panicked and swam away from them.
Before Deacon could react, she had stripped down to her bathing suit, dived off the side of the boat and was swimming toward the dog.
“Jesus,” he muttered. He wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of her catching hypothermia in the cold water or being scratched to pieces by the struggling dog.
Apparently, she didn’t care about either of those things as she swam closer to the dog and spoke softly to him, eventually convincing him to let her help.
Julia wrapped her arm around the dog, who climbed her frantically and nearly dragged her under as a wave broke over them. The small dog was black with a white spot on the top of his head.
Deacon threw her a life ring, hoping she could wrap one arm around that while she held on to the dog. He had to get her out of the water because her lips were already turning blue. Thankfully, she was able to grab hold of the life ring without losing her grip on the dog.
Deacon carefully pulled them closer until he had them within reach. Bending over the side, he tried to take the black dog from Julia.
The dog wasn’t having it, snapping at him and biting his arm.
“Fuck!”
“Don’t bite him,” Julia said. “He’s trying to help you.”
Between the two of them, they wrestled the dog—who was actually a puppy—into submission and got it into the boat.
Then Deacon reached for Julia, and that was when he saw blood running down his arm.
Crap. He pulled her out of the water and into the boat, where the dog shook frantically from the cold and trying to get the water off his coat.
Deacon noted the animal had no collar and wondered how they’d go about finding his owner.
Julia shivered uncontrollably.
“We gotta get you warm.”
“There’s a s-sweatshirt in my b-bag,” she managed to say over the violent trembling of her chin. In a few seconds, he realized she was much thinner than she’d appeared in clothes, but that wasn’t his primary concern at the moment.
He found the sweatshirt and a towel in her bag and helped her into the sweatshirt, rubbing her arms and wishing he had another towel or a jacket or anything else he could use to warm her.
The sun was covered by a thick layer of clouds, so it was of no help.
“I can’t believe you just jumped in like that. ”
“I h-had to. He was s-swimming away from us.”
Deacon pressed the throttle forward, anxious to get them back to town as quickly as possible. “You risked your life to save a dog, Julia.”
“And I’d do it again in a h-hot second. Are you all right?” She gestured toward his arm, which was bleeding profusely.
“I’m fine.”
“Th-that doesn’t look fine. Is there a first aid k-kit on board?”
She was on the verge of hypothermia but worried about him?
“Check the cabinet.” He focused on driving the boat while she got out the first aid kit and began cleaning the wound on his left arm.
As her cold fingers moved over his skin, Deacon tried not to react to her touch.
The only reason she was touching him was because he was bleeding. Otherwise, she’d be nowhere near him.
Keep telling yourself that. She’d stuck him firmly in the friend zone, and he needed to remember that.
But the way she’d rescued the dog without a thought to herself or her own safety had stirred something elemental in him.
She was someone he wanted to be around, someone he wanted to get to know, someone who’d be worth the trouble and the risk of getting involved.
After she had tended to his wound, she wrapped the towel she’d brought around the shivering dog, holding the little guy in her arms until he settled. He was clearly exhausted and quickly fell asleep even as he continued to shiver.
Deacon pushed the boat to its limits to get back to South Harbor as fast as possible, and when they approached the harbor entrance, he had to stop and idle while one ferry went into port and another came out. “You okay?” he asked Julia.
“J-just cold.”
“You’re going to need medical attention.”
“No, you are.”
“Both of us will.” He’d been bitten by dogs three times while on the job and wasn’t looking forward to having the wound cleaned or the wait to find out if the dog was rabid.
The cute little guy looked wet and cold but perfectly healthy otherwise.
However, that didn’t mean anything. He’d once had the extremely unpleasant round of rabies vaccines, so his immunity was probably better than most. He sure hoped so.
The last thing he wanted was to have to go through that treatment again.
Finally, the ferries were out of the way, and Deacon directed the boat to the police department dock, where, to his dismay, he saw his brother waiting to greet him, hands on hips and visibly angry. “Fucking hell.”
“What?”
Deacon nodded toward Blaine. “I apologize in advance for whatever is about to happen.”