Not What You Seem Read online

  Dean leaves me for a few minutes to show something to Kepler, who has asked about a thousand questions about the force and purpose of each sail. Dean answers most of them easily, and they seem to be hitting it off even though Kepler’s got this intense feeling of aloofness about him. But it doesn’t seem to bother Dean. Nothing seems to bother Dean, actually. Not like Sebastian, who’s at the front of the boat in a deep conversation with Jean. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest as Jean talks, that cleft in his chin getting deeper by the second.

  I look away, feeling like I’m intruding for some reason, and step back to observe my work. When Dean finally breaks away from Kepler, he heads straight for me.

  “I like this,” I admit. “I like getting everything set. It’s like working in the bakery and organizing everything for the oven.” And I love this sexy sailor side to him.

  “Then I hate to tell you that you did it wrong.” He moves so he’s standing behind me, and takes the line from my fingers. His arms circle me, and I’m caught against his chest. “See that one? It’s pulling.”

  He points up, and I follow his gesture to the wood and ropes above us.

  “No.” I squint my eyes, trying to see what he’s saying and ignore the way I’m pressed against his hard chest. “I can’t see it.”

  His low laugh tickles my throat. “That’s because it’s perfect.” He steps back from me, and I turn to see him grinning.

  “Are you trying to confuse your student?”

  Those blue eyes flare with heat for a moment. “I’ll do what I have to do.”

  Oh, uh…

  “Dean?” Dev calls. “Are we going or not?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “You take her.”

  When we clear the harbor, the boat picks up speed and I lose my breath. Light spray arcs onto the deck, and I laugh when it hits my face. The shift of the boat makes me stumble, but Dean wraps his arms around my waist and keeps me steady, my back pressed into his chest and my face to the horizon. I realize that he told Dev to take her out so that he could be with me.

  Matty’s got a seatbelt under deck, but everyone else is up top with us. All somewhere behind us where I can’t see them.

  The cool spray dries as soon as it hits my skin. I’m so breathless I can’t laugh. I don’t know if wind is the thief or if it was stolen by the gray beauty of the water and the rippling of the sails. Or perhaps by the man clasping me to his chest.

  Dean calls to Dev, but the breeze whips his words away. He walks me backward until he rests against a ledge under the helm, with one hand clamped around the wooden railing. His other tucks me against his hips. The sail above us snaps into a sharp triangle, the slack gone.

  I turn my head to find those blue eyes looking down at me. “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him to open it up.” Just as the words pass his lips, we hit another wave. The boat leaps forward so hard there’s a moment of weightlessness, like gravity forgot how to work, and we’re suspended with the world on pause. Then the boat hits, and little rainbows crash on the deck at the same time I fall against Dean.

  He grunts with the impact. I pull away from him, but he tugs me back.

  “Hold on,” he says into my ear. “That’s not even close to what she can do. I should have put you in a life jacket.”

  But then I wouldn’t be able to settle against him. Feel the shift from weightless to crashing as I fall into him. His brace and exhale when I tumble into his chest. The spray curls over the edges of the boat. I hold on to his arm for so long that my fingers numb. I regret when we slow—I could do that forever.

  “You good?” Dean says as soon as we can talk over the wind. The way he says it—soft and focused, makes every part of me tingle. I don’t have enough air to do anything but gasp and nod.

  “I forget how fast she can go,” he says. “We don’t get to do that with our usual passenger roster of sixty-year-old women pointing cameras at husbands who complain about wearing life jackets because they served in the Navy before I was born.”

  I turn to face him, and his gaze flicks up to my hair. Which is pretty much the only thing that can get me to blush from head to toe. The mess is a halo that bounces away from my fingers when I attempt to untangle it.

  He smiles up at the mess. “I like it.”

  I give up my attempt to tame my hair. Even if I got it organized, it would just tangle again. “Well, we’re doing that fast-against-the-waves thing again today, right?”

  “As many times as you want.” His voice is so low that I have to read his lips, and I realize how closely I’m pressed against him.

  It’s different here with him. He’s like wind tugging on a kite, lifting me up to my toes. I press a kiss against his cheek, and he pulls me roughly against him. I wish it was just the two of us. His hand slides down over my hip, his gaze flaring with heat again. Could I kiss him? Would he want me to?

  “Dean,” Dev calls from behind him.

  “What?” Dean shoots over his shoulder, not hiding the annoyance in his voice.

  Dev points away from the sun, toward a spot far off on the horizon. I squint, trying to see what he’s pointing at. A mist of air and water launches up. It’s followed by a wide tail.

  “A whale?” I bounce on my toes.

  “It’s a humpback.” Dean grins.

  I squint at the water. “How do you know?”

  “The shape of the spout. Trust me, I follow them around all spring.” He tugs me close to him. “Hold on.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re about to change direction.” As soon as the word leaves his mouth, the boom flies to the other side with a force that makes the whole boat shift.

  “Holy crap,” I manage as Dean moves to secure it.

  I try to steady on the ship the same way he does, but I’m a stumbling idiot whose feet aren’t correctly attached.

  Dean sees everything. Every little movement of the sails. He sees it all in detail. His exacting nature surprises me—especially with the haphazard brush strokes I saw earlier when passing by the now sage-green ticket hut. But when it comes to sailing, Dev is right. Dean is a perfectionist. When he moves across the ship, he never backtracks. Never takes a meandering line. His movements are sure and quick, and when he’s done, he stands almost motionless, as if part of the wood and canvas himself.

  After everything is set, Dean leads me up to the helm. Dev jumps down, and Dean pulls me in front of the wheel. “Your turn.”

  “Are you sure? What if I wreck us?”

  He takes my hand and sets it against the polished wood. “There’s not much to crash into out here.” He points starboard. “Besides the whale.”

  I set my other hand on the wheel. Two and ten like my brother taught me the one time I attempted to drive a car.

  “Go ahead,” Dean says.

  “I don’t know where to go.”

  “Generally, that direction.” Dean points off toward the slight left.

  I turn the wheel a fraction of an inch. The wood vibrates under my hand. There’s something so powerful about controlling it—telling a beautiful giant what to do. “I get why you like this.”

  Dean’s gaze travels along the horizon. “Who wouldn’t?” There’s something hard in his voice.

  I wrap my hands around the wheel. “If you could do anything right now, what would it be?”

  Dean shakes his head. “I’m doing what I want to do. The Heroine is one of the most stunning boats I’ve ever sailed.” He sets his hand on top of mine and moves the wheel. A moment later, the boat responds. “There are people who would give up everything to get what’s been handed to me. It’s a dream, pure and simple.”

  The boat slides along, an occasional spray reaching over the sides.

  “You didn’t really answer my question.” I lean closer so he can hear me. “What would you do?”

  He smiles a little, taking his hand away from mine.

  “I’d keep going,” he says. “If I real
ly had a choice, I’d just keep going.”

  He wants to leave. If he had his choice, he’d vanish into the ocean. Disappear.

  Just like Anthony.

  I swallow a tremble. My thoughts are selfish.

  He points to the left. “We’re closer to the whale now. See how the school of fish she’s following colors the water? Keep your eyes that way.”

  The boat carves through the water, slower than before. But steadily. We’re not going straight toward the whale, but on an intercept course. Although Dean slows before we get too close.

  Another spray goes up, and Dean releases a wrench and the sail slacks.

  Renee darts across the boat and whips out her phone. Dev crosses to stand with her, holding onto the back of her jeans as she leans over the edge to take pictures.

  The whale breaches the surface. Its tail arcs out of the water as it crests next to us. Like we’re swimming together. It leaps, somehow all of that huge silvery body flying over a wave. I hold my breath as it splashes down. The water displacement is enough to rock the Heroine. Dean shies the boat away from the whale before resuming the parallel path.

  “I think it’s looking at us,” I say.

  “How could it not be?” He points up at the masts. The sun bounces off the sails, transforming them into something more than just white fabric. A timeless ship racing next to a timeless creature. I wish we could follow it forever. Free of everything behind us. Free from that growing tangle in my stomach whenever I think about Benny and my mother and Anthony. Like a knot that will keep tightening until the rope snaps.

  Maybe that’s why Dean wants to leave. I can’t fault him for that.

  I slip my hand into his. “No one has given me a day before. Thank you.”

  He grins down at me. “I’ll give you another.”

  “Can you?” I blurt it before I fully form the thought. But away from Portage and all the confusing questions about my mother and Benny, there’s a weight on my chest when I think about going back to it.

  His forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean?”

  “Tomorrow’s my morning off at the bakery. Renee doesn’t work until afternoon, and I know she’ll jump at staying on the boat. I don’t know what you have scheduled—”

  “Nothing until afternoon.”

  She bites her bottom lip, looking up at me. “Can we just… not go back tonight?”

  29

  Dean

  Trust.

  And an entire night with Ella.

  And trust. It’s like she’s holding out her hand, and in her palm is exactly what I want.

  Even if we did have charters in the morning, I’d reschedule them. Luckily, it takes less effort than that. The guys and Jean agree easily, and when Ella tells me that Renee’s in, I let myself bask in the moment.

  A whole night with Ella.

  There’s a small cove south of here that I’ve stayed in before. After following the whale for some distance, we turn toward the cove and anchor.

  Ella seems so at ease out in the sun and away from Portage. The same way she always seems at ease joking over text. She’s up by the bow, laughing with Jean and Renee. The sun’s warm today, and she’s slipped off her sweater, which finally answers the question of what’s underneath. A thin tank top that hugs those curves of hers.

  I prepare the boat with Sebastian and listen to her laugh. For the first time since coming back to Portage, I’m entirely relaxed too. Part of me wishes that I was sitting next to her, maybe teasing her a bit, but the bigger part of me is just fucking happy that she’s chatting so easily. I’ve never seen her like this—so damn open.

  It also helps that there’s only a few white clouds in the sky. A strong sun, and a light breeze. Orange-beaked puffins waddle along the rocky shores of the cove and call to us in warbles and chirps.

  After the sails are furled, Sebastian tosses me a bottle of water. “This was a good idea, man. Reminds me of summers past. Remember refinishing that schooner for Grayson? She was well tuned when we were done with her.”

  “Yeah. She was a beauty.” I smile—yachts like that one always make me smile. And Grayson takes good care of his boats—unlike some wealthy owners I’ve come across who don’t show any respect. It’s surprising, considering that he’s only a year or two older than Sebastian and me, and all that money comes from trust funds and things handed to him. Somehow Grayson always seems above that.

  I hold up the water bottle. “But if it was summer past, this water would be a beer right now.”

  “Dev’s got a bunch in the cooler.” Sebastian nods toward the hatch, past where Dev and Kepler are talking about grad school. Kepler’s starting MIT in the fall, and Dev’s returning to his veterinary program.

  Sebastian and I leave them to head down to the galley and drag up Dev’s cooler. I think he stocked it just for today, assuming that we’d probably be back in the harbor and watching the sun go down since we’re not out on charters all day. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but we finally get it up the ladder and on deck.

  Dev and Kepler join us, and we sit on the benches and bullshit about boats while Ella’s musical voice winds in and out and behind me. From across the deck, her voice is quiet—almost like one of those melodies she hums.

  Sebastian takes some beers over to them, and when he gets back, Kepler stretches out his legs and turns to my brother. “So you going back with us or what?”

  Sebastian rolls his shoulders and glances at me. I give him a hard look—I hadn’t been aware that was a possibility. Sebastian comes and goes, but he’d agreed to sign on for the summer. I’d relied on that.

  My brother shrugs and leans back nonchalantly. “I was thinking about it.”

  I study him. “You were thinking about what exactly?”

  Sebastian rubs his neck. He’s pissing me off because he’s not looking at me. He’s keeping something back.

  “Heading back to Colorado for a while.” When he finally turns to look at me, he looks pretty damn serious. Even though I can’t believe he is. He should have told me.

  “You should have told me,” I say. Sebastian and I usually don’t mince words. We say what we think. Or we used to—he’s been talking about Sloane as well.

  My brother folds his arms over his chest. “Didn’t say I was going to do it.”

  “But you should have told me you were thinking about it.” I keep my voice low, not wanting to draw attention to us, although Kepler and Dev are already watching like we’re a damn tennis match. So, really, I don’t want to interrupt Ella. Her voice is still darting in and out around Jean’s and Renee’s.

  He stares me down. “I don’t need to run shit by you.”

  Normally he’d be right, but this situation is a thousand percent different. “You do when you tell me you’re going to help for the full summer and then start thinking about backing out.”

  “So you’re just worried about you. Is that it?” His voice is gruff, serious.

  But I’m not playing either. It pisses me off that he wouldn’t tell me. “This is your charter too. We’re 50/50 on this shit. You can’t do it during off season, fine. But you agreed to the summer.”

  “I didn’t agree to anything.” He takes a long drink from his beer. “You didn’t call me until after you decided. And now you’re angry that I don’t agree with you.”

  “I’m not angry you disagree. Just that you didn’t tell me before you showed up.”

  Not to mention that I just told Ella we’d help her with the cupcakes at the festival.

  I glance to the side for a second, staring at calm water and releasing the fist I didn’t realize I’d clenched. This is Sebastian—my brother. And I know him better than anyone else in the world. If I tell him what to do, he’s gonna get pissed. Even if that’s what he should do. But I’m not going to back down either. I’m not saying that I’m going to argue against him going if that’s really what he wants to do. But he can’t just come and go without thinking about it.

  Not now that this is a bus
iness, and I’m depending on him.

  I feel the Heroine shift as someone stands, and then Sebastian sits next to me. “I like her. A lot. And Jean said that Sloane’s been having a difficult time.”

  I turn to face him. “I get it. I do. But you can’t come and go like you used to. I’m all-in here.” I gesture toward the new rigging and fixed gooseneck. And those are just a few of the things we’ve done since he’s been here. “You’ve got to stay until I find someone else.”

  Sebastian stiffens, his face darkening. And I’m worried we’ve come to an impasse.

  “Jean wants to stay for a while,” Kepler throws into the middle of our conversation. Completely casual, like my brother and I aren’t glaring at each other.

  Kepler stands, opens the cooler, and grabs a few beers. He tosses one at Sebastian, and he catches it and pops the top. Kepler hands a second one to me.

  I’ve already got a beer, but I appreciate what he’s doing.

  “I’m gonna take her to one of those lobster shacks,” Kepler continues. “Maybe some bed and breakfast that makes blueberry pie. Seafood boil? You do that here, right? A few days at least. So you guys can sort it out later and get back to drinking now. Because I really don’t want to sit around watching you two bicker.”

  Sebastian takes a long drink. “That place in Upper Bay? What’s that called, Dean?”

  I finish the last of my beer. “Yeah, you should take her to The Lamp.”

  “There’s a lighthouse you can rent in Upper Bay,” Dev explains to Kepler. “You can stay the night up in the lamp. Good lobster boil on Sundays too.”

  Sebastian mentions a few places to the south. And before long we’re bullshitting about boats and life again as the sun drops and the water glints red. The low sun warms my face and draws shadows along the deck toward Ella, almost as if they are pointing to her. Her musical voice pulls my attention, and I’ve got this hot-edged desire to walk over to her. Take her hand again.

  But I remind myself that this isn’t a race. I’ve got all night to talk to her.