Meant to Be (27 page)

Joe ignored the tightening in his chest. “Guess you’re a quick learner. The ones in the other room tried to take me down.” Feeling like a marlin in a school of minnows, he decided to move things along. “The boat is fueled and waiting. You ready to go?”

Beth visibly tensed. “Ready?” she asked, her voice rising an octave. She cleared her throat. “Ready. Sure. I just…” Green eyes darted around the room. If Joe didn’t know better, he’d swear she was looking for an escape hatch. “I need to clean up a bit. You know,” she said, passing the now-fidgeting baby into his arms, “help Helga out before I go. She has her hands full and all.”

Before he could blink or argue, Joe found himself staring into deep blue eyes that looked as surprised as he felt. Cecelia’s bottom lip began to quiver, sending warning bells off in his brain.

“You’d better take her back,” he said, but Beth was already lifting a bag out of a garbage can sitting next to a high table. The smell smacked him between the eyes. “That smell came out of this?”

“Her and two others I had earlier.”

“But…” Joe looked down again and one tiny hand latched onto his bottom lip. He tugged on her arm, but Cecelia held tight. “She’s got me,” he said, the words sounding more like “Shegobbie.”

Beth stopped on her way to the door, dropping the bag to pry tiny fingers out of his mouth. “Sorry. She’s done that to me twice today.”

“I’m going to drop her,” he said, looking around for a place to put her.

“Haven’t you ever played football?” Beth asked.

“What does that have to do with Miss Grip of Steel here?”

“Act like she’s a football. Tuck her against your body and you’ll be fine.”

The analogy made sense, and when he applied the concept, Cecelia calmed in his arms. What did you know? Remembering how Beth had danced her to sleep, Joe tried swaying from side to side. He interpreted the gurgle to mean she liked it. When he added a soft bounce, her eyes closed and dark lashes settled on chubby cheeks.

“This isn’t so hard,” he said under his breath. Maintaining the motion, he looked up to find Beth watching him. Somehow they’d reversed roles.

A corner of her mouth quirked up and her eyes sparkled. “Looks like I’m not the only fast learner around here.” Covering the distance between them, she tucked a dark curl behind the baby’s ear. When she met his eyes again, her smile was gone. “You’re going to make a good dad someday.”

Lost in Beth’s green eyes and lulled by the weight of peace in his arms, he said the first thing that came to mind. “I thought the same thing about you earlier.”

Beth picked up the motion of his body and the three swayed together. He could have these few seconds. Pretend the complications didn’t exist. Pretend nothing stood between them.

Cecelia snorted and Joe felt something press against the hand holding her bottom. A smell similar to the one that had lofted from the recently removed garbage bag filled the air.

Beth stepped back and flashed an evil smile. “You know the rule.”

Unless she could read his mind and meant the rule about not stealing your brother’s girl, he had no idea what she was referring to. “What rule?”

“The one holding the child is the one who changes the diaper.”

He’d handled some raunchy situations in his life. Cleaned more fish than he could count. Bathed a filthy dog on more than one occasion. Even found six-month-old gym socks in his duffel bag once. But there was no way Joe was changing this diaper.

“Not happening,” he said, passing the baby back fast enough to give Beth no choice. “I’ll wait outside.”

Cecelia’s timing was excellent. She’d saved Beth from making another stupid mistake. Not that she wanted to change one more hazardous-waste diaper. What
did
they put in baby food these days? But that whole happy family scene had sent impossible images floating through her mind. Images of a life with Joe. Of watching the sunset with Dozer sleeping at their feet. Of blue-eyed, dimpled babies tugging on Dozer’s ears.

Guilt-inducing images that further strengthened her doubts.

How could she have these thoughts about Joe and be in love with Lucas?

She did love Lucas. His kindness and generosity. His ambition and how he embraced every day with enthusiasm
and determination. But she wasn’t in love with him. Not the way a woman should be with the man she was going to marry.

The realization had solidified an hour into her baby-room duties. Babies didn’t talk back, which gave Beth plenty of time to talk to herself. Not that Cecelia wasn’t a good listener. The poor thing had heard all of Beth’s woes and concerns. Listened to her argue with herself, toss around solutions, and, in general, talk herself in circles.

She could walk away. Let Lucas down easy and give him the chance to find a woman who would fall madly in love with him. But she’d made a promise. Agreed to be his wife and wear his ring. Just because that ring was back in Richmond being sized didn’t mean the commitment wasn’t made.

Call her antiquated, but Beth took her promises seriously. She couldn’t just call him up and say, “Sorry, I’ve changed my mind.” Lucas deserved better. His family, whom she now thought of as her own, deserved better. And she could do better.

She would just have to fall in love with him. They hadn’t set a date, so it wasn’t as if she had to walk down the aisle next week. When this trip was over, they’d spend more time together. He’d been pushing her to branch out at work. Try practicing law instead of hiding in the library writing briefs and hunting down precedents for the real attorneys in the office.

She could work on Lucas’s team, giving them more time together without cutting into his work. And her decision to come out of the stacks would make him happy. So what if the thought of speaking to a jury gave her heart palpitations.
With Lucas as a mentor, she’d be winning cases during the week and acting as the perfect dinner-party hostess on the weekends.

Everything Lucas wanted her to be. And after today she’d be able to enjoy time away from work with him as well.

With that thought, Beth walked out of the day care to find Joe sitting sideways in his driver’s seat, playing tug-of-war with Dozer. Her heart skipped a beat and again the images of a simple life with the dog and the babies and the little island cottage clouded her vision.

Shoving them aside, she closed her eyes, stirring up the courage not to run away when Joe wasn’t looking. The future didn’t seem so important when she was about to step onto a boat in the present. Running her affirmations on a loop in her mind, Beth forced herself to cross the parking lot and climb into the Jeep.

“Let’s do this,” she said, buckling her seat belt and staring straight ahead.

Joe clicked his own belt then brought the engine to life. “Nice Bruce Willis impersonation.”

“In case you didn’t notice, I’m barely breathing over here. Not in the mood for jokes.”

The Jeep gained speed and Joe shifted to a higher gear. “This was your idea. We don’t have to do it. But remember what I told you. Going on a boat is no big deal.”

A pain shot through her jaw and Beth realized she was clenching her teeth like a vise grip. Rolling her head from left to right, she forced her shoulders and jaw to relax. “I know what you told me, but my brain is used to running this show, and this show stays on land.”

“Hey,” he said, going silent until she made eye contact. “You trust me?”

Narrowing her eyes, Beth contemplated the question. The answer surprised her. “Yes.”

Joe grinned, flashing one bristly dimple her way. “Then we’re all good.”

Fifteen minutes later, Beth stood on the dock, squeezed into a bright-orange life jacket, watching Dozer bounce around on a boat roughly the size of a city block. Okay, it wasn’t that big. But the term
fishing boat
didn’t come close to describing the monstrosity bobbing before her. The word
yacht
came to mind.

Albeit a yacht covered in extra-long fishing poles.

When Dozer realized she wasn’t on the boat with him, he threw his paws up on the side and stared at her expectantly, tongue lolling and tail wagging. She wanted to believe that if the dog could do it, she could do it, but then remembered the dog wasn’t smart enough to realize death loomed beneath him.

“Think of it like getting in a car,” Joe said, coming up behind her. “Just another mode of transportation.” He took a step toward the boat, nudging her by the elbow.

“No way could I compare that…thing to a car. I’m just not ready yet.” She took two steps back. “This is a bad idea.”

“You can’t let fear run your life. Take charge. Tell the fear to go to hell.”

“Funny. The fear wants me to tell you the same thing.” If her heart beat any faster, it was going to shoot through the life jacket. A boat that big probably wouldn’t go down easy, she thought.

But hadn’t they said that about the
Titanic
?

Joe moved to stand directly in front of her, close enough to block out her view of the death trap bobbing behind him. “Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his voice calm and coaxing. He took her hands in his. “Look at me and follow my lead.”

His touch did nothing to slow her heart rate, but her feet obeyed his orders.

The intensity of his azure eyes held her mesmerized. His full lips encouraged her. “That’s it now. Stay with me. We’re almost there.” The words took on a sensual lilt. His breath mingled with hers. “Lift for me. Nice. One more time. Now come with me. A little more.”

Her brain turned to mush. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it oozed out her ears. Other parts were feeling a bit liquefied as well. Joe stopped and she took one more step, crushing their hands between them. The backs of his hands would have been pressed against her breasts if the life jacket hadn’t been in the way.

The life jacket needed to come off. And maybe his shirt. Joe smiled down at her and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was.

“Beth?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You did it.”

“Did what?” Why wasn’t he unbuttoning his shirt?

“You’re on the boat.”

The words took several seconds to register. When they did, she latched on to his signature red flannel as if it were the only thing standing between her and the pearly gates. “Oh my God.”

“Holy shit,” he said, prying her hands away from his chest. “Take it easy now.”

“You have to get me off this boat.” Her lungs kicked into double time. Breathing was always the first to go. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Your legs are under you and working fine.” He removed one hand, but it latched right back on. “Watch the chest hair.”

She would have helped him if she’d had any control over her limbs.

“Listen to me,” he said, loud enough to turn her brain back to a solid. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Look.” He bounced, and she screamed. Joe placed a hand over her mouth. “Knock that off before someone thinks I’m kidnapping you. You’re a smart woman. You know this fear is irrational, right?”

Beth nodded, his hand still covering her mouth.

“Then fight back. Don’t let the fear win. You’re stronger than the fear.”

Her grip on his shirt loosened, but she wasn’t ready to let go. He was right. This fear stemmed from one stupid accident that happened twenty years ago. Twenty years was long enough.

She nodded again, pulling back from his hand. “I’m good. I got this.” Control of her extremities returned. Bouncing the way Joe had, she was surprised to find the boat didn’t move beneath her. In fact, standing on the boat didn’t feel that different from standing on solid ground.

“See? Nothing to be afraid of,” he said, looking relieved.

She bounced again, then shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m standing on a boat.” Dropping one hand from
Joe’s shirt, she turned to look back at the dock. “I’m really standing on a boat. And I can breathe.”

“I told you you could do it. The boat will move more when we’re out on the water, but the
Mary Ann
is as solid as they come.”

Beth blinked. “Your boat is called the
Mary Ann
? As in
Gilligan’s Island
?” Before he could answer, she added, “I would have pegged you for a Ginger man.”

“Cute.” Joe turned serious. “Mary Ann was my mother’s name.”

No one in the family ever talked about Joe’s mother. Beth hadn’t even seen a picture. She knew Joe had been young when she died, but no other details. “I’m sorry,” she said, needing to say something but not sure what.

He shrugged, being strong as usual. But she could see the sad boy still living in the man.

“I lost my mom, too.” Beth had never said those words to anyone. She wasn’t sure why she was saying them now.

“I know,” Joe said. “You told me Saturday night on the way home from the bar.”

“I did?” Tequila should be renamed truth serum. “I was too young to remember her. Not even three when she passed.”

“But you still grew up without her. So you get it.”

“Yeah. I get it.”

They stood there, staring at each other, sharing something few people understood. Though Lucas had lost his father, he never seemed affected by it. Which said a great deal about Tom Dempsey.

“We’d better get going. You want to sit up top with me or inside?”