the last ten years. Of course he hadn’t been home for the better part of those ten years, but it wasn’t as though the opportunity hadn’t been there.
“Why didn’t you go on to college?” he asked as they moved onto the docks. “I expected you to head off right after high school.”
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She shrugged at the question. “I took business classes at the tech school. You might get the marina when Ray and Mom retire, but the store and fuel supply are mine,” she reminded him. “They’ll only grow as the traffic on the lake increases and I wanted to be prepared for it.”
“You say that as though you think I might want to get rid of you.”
They turned along the plank, heading for the Nauti Buoy , the fifty-foot sea-green and white houseboat .
“Not get rid of me maybe.” She stepped onto the wide porch, moving back as he slid open the glass sliding doors before heading into the dim, air-conditioned comfort of the living room/kitchen.
The shades were all drawn, the lights out. As he closed the door behind them, he pulled the heavy drapes closed over it, sealing them inside the intimate, cool comfort of his home away from home.
“Then what?” he asked as he moved to the small kitchen. “Do you think I wouldn’t want you around, Kelly?”
The wheel column sat in the corner in front of the large shaded window beside the glass doors. A six-foot burgundy couch sat to her side, two matching chairs on the other side of the room, behind the wheel. The kitchen was equipped with a mini refrigerator, chest-type freezer and narrow four-burner stove with an overhead microwave and oak cabinets.
The double sink was narrow, but efficient. Across from the work area a circular table with four cushioned captain’s chairs sat beneath a stained glass chandelier. Further along was a small bathroom and shower, berth bed and a walkout to the back diving area.
She loved the Nauti Buoy . They had spent the summers on it when she was younger. Upstairs was another larger, opulent bedroom, as well as a master bathroom and deck. Before Ray had given it to Rowdy, there had been two bedrooms downstairs. Now, the second one was a
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drying/changing area for the back deck with a small washer/dryer combo.
“I wasn’t sure,” she finally answered, staring back at him, her fingers knotting in the hem of her shirt.
“Your mother helped build the marina.” He turned to her after setting the food on the table. “I wouldn’t take it from you, no matter what happened.”
He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, watching her with those eyes. Eyes that stripped her defenses, that sent butterflies crashing to and fro in the pit of her stomach.
She licked her lips, staring back at him. The last thing on her mind now was that of the business. Nerves clashed to and fro as her senses became more heightened; the air in the confines of the craft became heavier, dense with the seductive, subtle scent that was unique to Rowdy.
“I know you wouldn’t, Rowdy.” She cleared her throat, forcing herself to move to the cabinet and the kitchenware there.
As she pulled plates and silverware from where they were held and set the table, Rowdy warmed the food in the microwave, setting it on the table before pulling a bottle of cheap wine from the fridge.
At some point, he had turned on a CD, lowering the volume until the soft, intimate music flowed through the cabin.
“Let’s eat.” The dark throb in his voice was so sexual that the suggestion took on a whole new meaning.
“Eat.” She breathed in slowly. “Okay. We eat.”
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CHAPTER SIX
As they ate, he told her about the Marines. She knew he was glossing over the harder details, the blood and death he’d seen overseas, the friends he had lost. She knew when he was talking about those friends who were no longer alive to laugh with him. His eyes would darken, his expression becoming reflective.
He told her about the desert, made her
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