Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Brooke finally got her wish. She slept the whole night through—but with dreams of Riley dancing temptingly in her mind. By the time she woke, early Saturday morning, she was a pent-up ball of frustration and desire, haunted by the sensual fantasies that still lingered, just out of reach.
Couldn’t a sleep-deprived girl catch a break around here?
She pulled on a pair of workout shorts and her sports bra, and laced up her sneakers, feeling determined. Clearly, soothing herself into sleep wasn’t working, so she would just have to try the opposite tactic: sheer exhaustion.
If she pushed herself to the limit all day long, then her brain would have to shut down eventually. Right?
She took off jogging along the coastal road, her feet pounding the concrete.
It was a gorgeous summer’s morning, with a clear blue sky and white-topped waves, and it felt good to be out, so she detoured down to the beach to run along the damp sand.
The wide, windswept shore was empty this early, just a couple of people out walking their dogs and some optimistic surfers bobbing out in the water.
As the miles disappeared behind her, Brooke’s mind finally cleared.
She felt her body stretch, and her lungs burned as she gulped the salty breeze.
She needed to forget him.
Moving here had been the right step, but it was no good putting a thousand miles between her and Archer if she still carried him in her heart. Not tenderly, not anymore, but the hurt and betrayal still took up just as much space, burning with unanswered questions and blame.
She was never going to move on by holding so tightly to the past.
One of these days, she was going to have to forgive herself for believing him.
Brooke finally stopped, bending double as she gasped for air. Her heart was pounding so loud it thundered in her mind, but still it wasn’t enough to push the whispers away.
She should have known better. She should have seen the signs.
Brooke let out a noise of frustration that was swallowed by the wind.
She was so used to getting it right. In school, she’d been a straight-A student, working long hours on her assignments until she got those perfect scores.
In college, she’d planned her schedule and kept careful watch on her GPA, secured all the best internships so she could graduate with her career right on track.
She planned and put the hours in, taking care with every last detail to earn those glowing reviews, because she wanted to do it right—not to be the best, but to be the best she could be.
She’d thought Archer was right. The perfect match. They’d been so good together—right up until the moment her feet had been knocked out from under her.
What had she missed?
Brooke straightened up, her heart rate slowing now. She stood, looking out at the bay and the wide expanse of blue.
Maybe she’d never know. Maybe she could go back over every last memory and see nothing out of place. No hints she should have registered, no red flags to send her running for the hills.
She’d been careful, she’d taken it slow, and still, his lies had slipped past her with all the ring of the truth.
Maybe he was just that good.
After all, she wasn’t the only one who’d fallen for his lines.
His wife had believed them, too. Every night he was working late, every business trip out of town.
Brooke’s heart ached remembering the look on Julia’s face as she’d stood there on the doorstep—her anger giving way to misery when she’d realized that Brooke wasn’t some ruthless temptress, but a dupe, just like her.
“How did I not see this happening, right under my nose?” she’d despaired, and now Brooke felt the same way. They’d been blinded by love and hope for the future that Archer had promised them. Dazzled by the illusion, until the spell was broken and the mirage faded away.
Brooke took a deep breath, and then another.
She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. Looking for answers, when the truth was there was nothing Archer could ever offer to explain. What could he say to her now? I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.
Or, worse still, You made it easy, you were such a fool.
None of it would change a thing. No, that part was down to her now.
She had to start letting it go.
She took another breath and started running again. This time, towards home.
By the time Brooke arrived back at the apartment, she was a sweaty, exhausted mess.
But something felt lighter, that knot in her chest unraveled a little more loosely.
She could do this, moving on. No more dwelling on a past she couldn’t change now.
She was going to face forward and let herself off the hook, with?—
“Riley?” Brooke stopped short. He was sitting on her steps, golden and easy in the morning sun. “What are you . . . ?”
She fumbled for words, her mind suddenly flooded with all the hot, illicit dreams she’d been having. Her face burned. “I didn’t expect . . . I mean . . .” Brooke grasped for a simple greeting. “Hi.”
“Hey there.” Riley slowly unfolded his limbs and got to his feet, that irresistible smile taking her in. “Good run?”
“Yes. Hard.” Brooke gulped. She pushed back her sweaty mess of hair, wishing she didn’t look such a wreck. “I’m following your advice, trying to wear myself out.”
Riley chuckled. “Yeah, that’s not what I said. My advice was to relax and have a good time. So, it’s a good thing I’m here to teach you my tricks.”
“You have tricks?” Brooke repeated, smiling.
“You bet, baby.” Riley grinned back, and God, that smile should be illegal. “Come sailing. We can drop anchor by a beach, lie out in the sun . . . It’s impossible to stay stressed out on the water.”
Brooke paused, torn. It did sound incredibly relaxing, and the thought of spending the day with Riley was more tempting than she’d like to admit. “I was going to work,” she said, reluctant.
“It’s the weekend, c’mon,” Riley urged her. “This is probably the last chance you’ll get to switch off before that top-secret project of yours gets rolling. You need to have some fun.”
Brooke paused, but there was really no contest. Spend her day at the hotel, solving every crisis in sight, or out on the water with this fine specimen of a man?
“OK, I’m in.”
“Damn right you are.” Riley looked pleased. “Go grab your things, I already stopped by the bakery, so I’ve got a basket full of goodies.”
“That’s what all the guys say.” Brooke found herself winking as she skipped past him and up the stairs.
Riley’s surprised laughter followed her inside. Then she shut the door and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
Oh God! No wonder he was laughing, she looked like she’d just run a marathon—in no makeup and her oldest sweats.
Brooke barreled for the bathroom, taking the quickest shower in the history of mankind. In ten minutes, she was back out on her porch, dressed in her bikini and some cut-offs, with a cool linen shirt tied up around her stomach.
“All set,” she said, trying to ignore the flip of excitement she felt, bouncing down to meet him.
This wasn’t a date.
This wasn’t anything at all.
Liar.
Riley drove them the short distance to the marina, chatting easily about his conversion to a life off solid land. “It was an impulse buy,” he said, glancing over to Brooke. “But the best things always are.”
“Wait, you bought a boat without even knowing how to sail?” She blinked. “That’s crazy! Don’t you plan anything in your life at all?”
Riley shrugged. “What’s there to plan? You just trust your instincts, and everything will work out OK in the end.”
There it was again: the same question Brooke had been grappling with for months now. “I don’t know about that,” she replied. “My instincts don’t have the best record lately.”
“Ah. Yeah. But that wasn’t the end, was it?” He shot her an encouraging look. “You’re still standing, aren’t you?”
“Just about.”
“Then there you go. As my friend Poppy would say, there’s plenty of pages in your story yet. Actually, she’d never say that,” he added. “I’m the one cracking bad novelist puns.”
Brooke smiled again. There was just something about his upbeat personality that was infectious: bulletproof optimism, even after he’d had his own share of betrayals.
She could learn a thing or two from him, she decided as they wound along the coastal road.
Starting with how to actually unwind for a change, and leave all her stress and worry behind.
He was right. She deserved a little fun.
They arrived at the small harbor, where the seafood shack already had a morning crowd and a couple of guys sat fishing off the pier. Brooke looked around eagerly, trying to figure out which boat was his.
“Now, she’s not the sleekest schooner on the water,” Riley warned her as he retrieved a cooler and picnic basket from the trunk. “But she gets the job done.”
“I have zero experience with boats,” Brooke laughed, hoisting up her tote bag of summer essentials. “As long as we don’t sink, I’m good.”
“That, I can do.” Riley led her down the jetty, to where an old, charming sailboat sat bobbing on the tide. “Here she is, my one and only.”
“She looks great.” Brooke took in the blue paint and sleek white cabin. The sails were white with a blue trim, and the old wood looked weathered—but sturdy. “Week of Sundays,” she read the script painted in red on the bow.
“My philosophy on life.” Riley loaded the bags onto the deck. “Now, you’ve got your sunscreen?”
“Check.”
“Shades?”
Brooke rifled through her bag. “Check.”
“Cellphone?”
She nodded. “Never let it out of my sight.”
“Wrong answer. This is a work-free zone,” Riley informed her, mock-stern. “No phones allowed.”
Brooke laughed, and made to move past him, but he held out his hand, waiting for her phone. “I’m not kidding. How are you going to switch off and relax if you’re checking messages all day long?”
“But what if something happens?” Brooke blinked. She felt anxious just at the thought. “I always say they can reach me 24/7 in an emergency.”
“They’ll live. It’s just a few hours,” he reassured her. “Come on, live a little.”
Brooke wavered, still clutching her phone tightly. But the invitation in Riley’s eyes was too good to resist. She reluctantly handed it to him.
“Be careful with that thing,” she warned him, watching as he stashed it in a small lockbox on the dock along with his keys. “My whole life is in there.”
“Then we need to get you a new one.”
Riley climbed on board and held out his hand to help her. Brooke stepped cautiously onto the deck, feeling the gentle shift and roll of the waves. She was worried about her less-than-stellar history on the ocean, but this seemed calm enough.
“Let me give you the tour,” Riley said, a proud note to his voice.
He led Brooke down to the tiny cabin, where a galley kitchen sat snugly beside a built-in bench and small fold-out table.
There was a door to a tiny bathroom, and then the main cabin bedroom, which contained a bed . . . and not much else.
“Cozy,” Brooke said, looking around. And it was.
Despite the compact size, the space was warm and inviting.
“How do you fit everything?” she asked. She’d been half-expecting a bachelor pad—complete with bachelor levels of messiness and grime—but Riley’s bedroom was immaculate, with soft-looking blue sheets and a pile of pillows tempting her to lay back and . . .
She dragged her gaze away from the bed and tried to shut that train of thought down in a hurry. “I can’t imagine cramming all my stuff in here.”
“I keep it simple,” Riley replied, stowing things from the cooler in the small fridge. “No mess, no fuss, that’s how I like to live.”
“And nobody outstaying their welcome,” she teased.
He flashed a grin. “Ask nicely, and you can stay as long as you like.”
The cabin was so small, she was standing dangerously close to him. Close enough to remember just how good his arms had felt around her.
And as for his mouth . . .
“You won’t say that when I’m vomiting all over you!” Brooke exclaimed loudly, before she realized what she’d just blurted.
Vomit. Sexy.
She stifled a groan. “I’ll be up on deck,” she said brightly, and scrambled up the stairs before she could see his reaction. Fun and relaxation were one thing, but if she wasn’t careful, these close quarters might go giving her ideas.
Recklessly tempting ideas.
But would that really be so bad?