Proximity (12 page)

She envied that towel.

Awareness rippled over her skin. A smile, maybe the first authentic one in months, began deep inside her chest, spread outward and upward and found its way to her lips. She wondered if he had a wife, a girlfriend…or a boyfriend for that matter. He looked too good to be unattached, too delicious not to be savored.

Hmm… If watching men like that stroll around half-naked was what island mode meant, she might be able to get behind the concept.

Austin and a woman with wild brown curls bobbing around her face suddenly blocked her vision. She noticed her brother’s hand resting heavily on the woman’s shoulder and picked up the chemistry between them.

“This is Erin, my manager,” Austin said with a boyish grin that reminded her of the early years.

“Just your manager? Looks like more than that to me.” She shook Erin’s hand, her smile automatic and polite, while shifting on the stool to look past her shoulder toward where Merman toweled off.

Austin’s words were lost on her. Her thoughts swirled around the man with the orange swim trunks, the ebony hair and—oh, God—those legs.

* * * *

Noah glanced over his shoulder toward the beach bar. Cold beer and easy conversation sounded like the perfect distraction for an otherwise frustrating afternoon. Snorkeling usually cleared his mind, but not today when a maniac tourist had nearly decapitated him with a Jet Ski.

Restlessness gnawed at him, nibbling at his nervous system to move, to act, to do something...else. Anything else. The fact that some quack had decided to taunt him with his past sure as hell didn’t help his mood. The articles that had been taped to his door this morning had set him off—headlines of a past he tried to forget on a minute-by-minute basis kept showing up in the oddest places lately. His front door, the boat, the mail...it all made him more distrustful than usual.

He raked sandy fingers through his hair and watched the breakers crashing against the reef off shore. Months of writers’ block had finally given way to a flood of words about a stalker’s decent into madness. Every word flowed perfectly onto the page. What should be a good thing felt like a bad thing because he wondered how his inspiration would handle her story fueling his creative juices.

This week sucked, no question. Between the creep harassing him, maniac tourists and guilt over his newfound writing mojo, he couldn’t catch a break.

“Hey, Noah, I’ve been looking all over the island for you.” A shorter man knelt next to him, shaking hair from his face. “Up for a night dive? I booked a private charter, and Gill can’t work it.”

He squinted at the man—a muscle builder gone beach boy—his gaze shifting to the beads braided through a section of brown hair. Those were new. “What’s up with the beads, Larry?”

“Like ’em?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re cute, make you look…um…special.” He laughed before pulling his T-shirt over his head. “No afternoon dive today?”

“It’s Wednesday, remember? We don’t book on Wednesdays, our day to have the boat to ourselves, not that it mattered since you blew me off this morning.”

“I forgot. Sorry.” Again he glanced toward the bar and frowned. “I’ve been distracted.”

“No problem.” Larry followed his gaze. “Austin should be back from the airport with his basket-case sister by now.”

“You’re such a sensitive guy.” He jumped to his feet, dragging the towel with him.

“Oh, c’mon, let’s be real.” Larry continued to look at the bar. “She’s got to be messed up, don’t ya think? I bet she’s scared of her own shadow.”

“Who isn’t a little messed up? You? Me? We’re not exactly people to judge, are we?”

Larry snapped his head around and pushed the sunglasses higher up on his nose. “Nope. Guess we’re not. You comin’ aboard tonight?”

He busied himself with shaking out the towel before shoving it into the snorkel bag. “Why did you quit the business, Lar?”

“You mean the screenwriting business?” Larry kicked his bare toes in the sand. “Are you kidding me? Have you forgotten that I couldn’t get a damn thing produced? Reason number one—no money. What’s up? Still not writing?”

“I’m writing.”

“Well, then, what’s the problem?” Larry stretched his arms behind his back. “If you’re not coming tonight, then I need to find another dive master.”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.” He adjusted the bag over his shoulder. “Have a beer with me. I’m buying.”

“You’re going to the bar? To meet Austin’s sister?”

“They serve beer there, remember? And I need one.” He stepped in that direction.

“Why do you want to meet her so soon? You don’t need her drama.”

“She’s Austin’s sister. We’re Austin’s friends. Simple. No drama involved. Let’s go have a beer, be sociable, you know…do the right thing.”

“The right thing, hmm?” Larry propped his hands on his hips. “Austin asked us all to give her time to settle in before bugging her…his words. Remember? Last night on your deck…we had a conversation…any of this coming back to you?”

Oh, he remembered the conversation word for word, but curiosity overpowered willpower. “Like I said, I really need a cold beer. Are you coming?”

“From what Austin says, it sounds like she had a breakdown in Atlanta, refuses to talk about what happened, wouldn’t leave the house at night, couldn’t go anywhere alone.” Larry circled his finger over his ear.

“She traveled here alone.” He couldn’t believe this guy had been his friend for a decade, more like a brother if he wanted to be honest about it. “Why are you being so hard on a woman you haven’t met? You of all people should know what it’s like to have a sister in trouble.”

“Yeah, well, some people can’t let stuff go, know what I mean? Shake it off, get on with life. What’s the big deal? She’s alive. She should be thankful and suck it up.”

“Suck it up? Really? A man she knew and trusted turned out to be the stalker who killed her friend and nearly murdered her in her own home. You think she can just shake that off? Just like that?”

“You sure know a lot of details.” Larry pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and squinted at him. Beads bobbed against his face as he nodded. “Your writer’s block is broken. I get it. You’re doing some research, meeting the subject—”

“It’s not like what you’re thinking.” He gripped the strap of his bag and averted his eyes from Larry’s face.

“I know you too well.” A too-satisfied, I-know-all smile spread across Larry’s face. “Let me guess. Changed the names and places—probably even the perspective, right? I’d bet anything you—”

“Austin’s one of my best friends. I’m not going to hurt his sister.” He stepped toward the bar and away from his friend. “Believe me, it’s not like it sounds.”

“Sure it is, but whatever. None of my business.” Larry shrugged and slipped the sunglasses back over his eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

“Tired of what?” Sick of Larry and his know-it-all attitude, he took a step toward the bar.

“Your martyrdom. You’re doing anything and everything to punish yourself. Instead of embracing your success in LA, you’re down here living like a monk and an island bum. First, you buy the dive boat and start us up in a charter business. Second, you rip apart your house with the excuse of renovations—”

“What’re you doing? Keeping track of my every move?”

“Now you’re writing about Austin’s sister, aren’t you? That’s twisted, man. Screwed up.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking, so let it go,” he said with as much calm as he could fake.

“Fine. Here’s me letting it go.” Larry stepped backward with an elaborate swing of his arms. “Speaking of Alicia, David Wells called this morning. He wants to throw some business our way.”

“David Wells?” He frowned at the name of his former nemesis from Los Angles. “What’s he calling you for?”

“He wanted to catch up…asked about our dive business…if we do private charters.”

“You told him no, right? The last thing we need is that old crowd coming to the Caymans.”

“No, I didn’t tell him no. He’s coming down here—”

“Damn it, Lar.”

“—in a few weeks to scout movie locations. I emailed him the information on the Angelfish and—”

“Tell me you didn’t.”

“—and he said he’d like to throw some of the studio’s money our way. The last time I checked, we’re in business to make a profit, Noah. Get over it.”

“David Wells and his crowd are the last people I want to do business with here on Cayman or back in LA.” Aware of his low tolerance for anything and everyone today, he rolled back his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the knots locked behind his neck.

“Eventually, you’re gonna have to face the old crowd, Noah.”

“I expect that back in the States, not here.” He shifted the weight of the snorkel bag to his other shoulder and shook his head. “I need that beer. Are you coming?”

“You definitely need something to take the edge off.” Grin long gone, Larry studied him before glancing toward the bar. “Say hi to the schitzo chic for me.”

Without saying another word, Larry weaved through swimsuit-clad tourists and disappeared around a curve on the beach.

Sighing, Noah looked at the beach bar. He could see Austin’s back, noticed the casual arm slung over Erin’s shoulders, and assumed Austin talked to his sister. He considered going home and avoiding everyone, but walked toward the stairs anyway.

There she sat, live and in person, Lauren Biltmore. Her pale skin reminded him of moonlight on sand and contrasted sharply with the tanned people surrounding her. Sunlight filtering in through tiny breaks of the thatched roof shimmered against her platinum hair.

He’d seen pictures of her, sure, but the reality stunned him. No picture had captured the essence of her that screamed “stay away.” And that’s exactly what he should do...stay away.

Never one to do as he should, he maneuvered around the tables toward her side.

Chapter Two

“You nearly killed me, you know,” a deep voice said from over her shoulder. “That was you on the Jet Ski, right? Reckless.”

Lauren turned her head and blinked several times. Merman in the flesh stood within inches of her left shoulder. Little earthquakes rocked through her body until she thought she’d fall off the stool.

“Noah, good to see you,” Austin said with a smile. “Lauren, meet Noah Reynolds. Noah, Lauren.” Austin pushed a beer in front of him. “I thought you were writing all day. What’s up? Procrastinating?”

“Mostly.” His wet hair curled against his forehead and into eyes that reminded her of expensive whiskey. A faded red T-shirt stretched across his chest. Moisture seeped through at the shoulders and neckline. He resembled a pirate—the Hollywood kind that makes every woman crave the bad boy.

“Mostly.” Austin snorted. “I’m beginning to think you’re never going to write again.”

“Be more concerned with your sister’s reckless moves on that Jet Ski. She nearly took my head off.” A smile tugged up the corners of his mouth while he took a long drink from the beer bottle without looking at her.

“I didn’t come close to you,” she said after finding her voice. “What were you doing way out there anyway? Danger zone.”

Watching a droplet of water slide down his neck made her squirm and lick her lips. Okay, so maybe island mode was a bit too much to handle her first day. She held the cold glass of sangria against her skin.

“Hey, Erin, Larry booked a private charter tonight. Want to ride along? He needs another dive master.” He ignored her and spoke to Austin’s manger slash girlfriend.

“Why aren’t you doing it?” Austin said.

“I’m not up for it. Bad day.” He shrugged. “What do you say, Erin? We’ll pay you.”

“Will you hold the boat for me if I’m a little late?” Erin asked. “I promised Austin I’d stay until he gets back from taking Lauren home.”

“No problem. Do you dive, Lauren?” His whiskey-colored eyes focused on her face.

She had a sudden craving for a shot of Jack Daniels. “No, I prefer seeing fish in an aquarium, especially the ones with big teeth.”

“Hang out here long enough and we’ll change your mind.” Erin smiled, but didn’t look her in the eye. “Won’t we, Noah? We’ll have you diving before the end of the week.”

She doubted it. She stabbed another cherry with her straw. God, she was a mess. Restless all of the time, unable to relax, paranoid about what these people knew about her reasons for being here, having erotic visions of the hot guy next to her. She should have filled that prescription her doctor had given her before leaving Atlanta. She needed sedation.

“What brings the island recluse out in the middle of the day?” Erin asked Noah.

“Island recluse?” The concept clashed sharply with the fantasies playing out in her mind.

“Yeah, this is weird, Noah.” Austin propped his elbows against the bar and looked at his friend. “Any special reason you’re over here so early?”

“Early?” she asked even though she’d coached herself to stay quiet. “Isn’t it at least four by now?”

“Ignore them,” Noah said with a wink. “Works for me.”

“Unless we’re diving or helping him fix up his shack, we don’t see him until at least midnight. He says he’s a night person,” Erin explained. “So what’s up, Noah?”

“Can’t a guy have a beer in peace?” He grinned as he pulled out the stool next to hers. “How long are you staying on Cayman, Lauren?”

“Six weeks.” Every instinct she had screamed, “Proceed with caution.”

“Do you like snorkeling?” His gaze slid over her face.

“As long as I can see the bottom, I do. Deep water equals big fish in my mind. I like to avoid predators when I can.” She inched away from him as much as possible without falling onto the floor. “I guess I’m not much of an adventurer.”

“Liar. I saw the way you drove that thing, remember?” His smile had her imagining what he would taste like.

I’ve lost all self-control, dignity, and common sense.

His fingers scraped at the edges of the label covering the beer bottle, but the smile remained as if he could sense her reaction to him...like a predator.

She gulped her drink, welcoming the alcohol-induced fog in her brain.

“Your timing for a sudden snorkel over here is interesting,” Austin said. “Didn’t you hear anything I said last night?”

“I heard you. Loud and clear. Simply having a beer, that’s all.” He faced Austin. “I’m not feeling too welcome. You need to work on your customer service skills.”

Erin held a clipboard toward Austin. “We’re short about two cases of crab legs and, with the buffet tonight, that could mean a big problem.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Austin said with a final look between them.

“He asked you to stay away from me, didn’t he?” The thought of Austin having his big brother talk with his friends before she arrived simultaneously amused and annoyed her. Once again, she wondered how many details they knew and tried desperately not to care.

He rested his back against the bar and shrugged. With the way he captured his lower lip with his teeth, she suspected he held back another smile.

“Ah, I see,” she said.

“See what?” His smile escaped, guilty as hell.

“Austin likes you as one of the boys, but when it comes to his sister, stay back, my friend, stay back. Am I close to the truth?” Her gaze slipped down his neck to where wet hair curled beneath his ear. The thought of licking him there nearly sent her running toward the ocean to put out the fire in her gut.

Yep, definitely should have filled that prescription.

She nodded when Erin asked if she wanted a refill. Hell, at this rate, she’d need a pitcher to cool her off. Yep, definitely too early for island mode. She needed to ease into it...slowly...after a steady rum haze.

“More like give you some space until you’ve had time to…settle.” He slipped a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. Pity. Or maybe it was a good thing...she couldn’t decide.

She cringed at the way he said the word settle, as if it alone carried a deeper meaning. “Care to elaborate?”

He stretched his legs out in front of him. Flip-flops dangled from his toes. The man exuded ease and...island mode. “Your arrival is a big event around here.”

Big event, huh? She twisted a cherry stem between the fingers of her right hand while his words sank into her brain. She’d come here seeking anonymity not more attention.

He watched her face while he drank his beer, as if trying to read her mind. She’d seen that same expression on every single person she’d encountered since “that night”. With a sigh, she dropped the cherry stem on a napkin and looked hopelessly into her empty glass. She was tired of being a big event...sick of her story...didn’t want to ruin a moment with Merman thinking about it.

“You’ll like Cayman. It’s a good place to clear your head, get perspective,” he said.

“What do you mean? Perspective?” Tension straightened her spine.

“I know what happened in Atlanta. The attack, your leave of absence, all of it. It’s good that you’re here, that you’re taking time to—”

“Austin shouldn’t have told you.” Awkwardness replaced fragile confidence. She wanted...well, she wanted all kinds of things. Normalcy topped the list. “I didn’t want anyone here to know. I wanted to blend...stupid of me, I guess.”

He studied her for a minute before shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. I’m sorry.” He finished his beer and motioned at Erin for another. His bare knee bumped against the thin linen covering her thigh when he swiveled on his stool to face her.

Contact. Her core melted like candle wax, hot and wet. Scalding. She crossed and recrossed her legs. With a long sigh, she focused on the waves breaking against the reef off shore.

“I’ve been curious about you,” he said after a long silence pregnant with speculation.

“Curious about me? Why? Seems like Austin filled in the blanks before I arrived.” She stared at a palm tree swaying with the breeze, almost in rhythm to the music.

“I’m interested. Do I need a better reason?”

“Maybe.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth.

“I want to know you better, that’s all.”

“Why?” A shiver skittered across her skin despite the midafternoon heat.

“You’re my good friend’s sister. Do I need a better reason than that?”

“Knowing what you know, I need a definition of the word interested.” Suspicion clenched at her heart and battled with the need for this—whatever this was—to be easy. Simple. Normal.

“Austin will vouch for me. Honest,” he said with a smile that looked anything but trustworthy.

“I thought he told you to stay away from me. Remember? Stay back, my friend, stay back.” Their gazes connected through dark lenses. “What is it that you really want, Noah? Your next story line?”

“Ouch.” He flinched and shoved a restless hand through his thick hair. With a sigh, he stood and reached for his snorkel bag. “I deserve that more than you realize. We should talk another time. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” When he looked at her again, a frown replaced the easy smile. “Enjoy getting settled, Lauren.”

Cursing beneath her breath, she watched him adjust the bag over his shoulder. Here stood a sexy man—an interesting one, too, which was rare—and she couldn’t stop acting like a paranoid freak.

With a shake of her head, she tilted her chin up, forced the suspicion aside, and looked directly into his face. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Sit down. Stay awhile. If you don’t mind being with a dangerous woman, that is.” She patted the vacated stool.

“Dangerous? I don’t think you’re dangerous…unless let loose on a Jet Ski again.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “You might think I’m the dangerous one once I’ve told you that I’ve started—”

She held both hands out in front of her. “Stop. No confessions. I won’t ask you for explanations if you don’t ask me for any. What do ya say? Deal?”

He hesitated a fraction too long. Her confidence quaked in the silence.

“For now anyway.” He held his hand out to her. “Friends?”

“Friends.” She clasped his hand and gasped. Electricity snapped through her veins. Visions more intimate than friendship flashed through her mind. She yanked her hand free.

His teeth tugged at his bottom lip, sunglasses hiding whatever expression dwelt in his eyes. After a minute, he reclaimed the empty stool.

“There are so many reasons I should have walked away,” he muttered.

“You should have ran like hell,” she whispered more to herself than to him. When he tilted his head back and laughed, she smiled. “I wasn’t joking.”

“I know you weren’t, that’s why I’m laughing. Let’s start over.” His lips twitched. “I’m Noah, Austin’s friend. He’s told me a lot about you and how you used to make his life hell when you were both kids.”

“That’s your way of starting over?” She shook her head and looked away from him.

“Why not? Childhood is a safe topic, right?”

She shrugged, trying to regain mental equilibrium.

“He claims you were a real menace.”

“Menace? Such a strong word. An exaggeration,” she whispered, a smile itching to be released on her mouth. She nodded at Erin, relieved to have a fresh supply of sangria in her hot little hands.

“Oh, I doubt it. You look like trouble.” Beer to his lips, he smiled. “But I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“I look like trouble? Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

A feeling akin to a rush of teenage hormones took control, and there was no fighting it. Not that she wanted to. It was good to feel again. She laughed at the realization that she honestly did feel something other than numbness, fear, or exhaustion for the first time in months. Silently, she toasted the concept of island mode.

He peeled the label from yet another beer bottle, gaze averted from hers. Music from the one man band drifted over the buzz of tourist laughter and ocean surf.

“Pretend I don’t know anything, that’s why you came here, right? I blew it within minutes.” He folded the torn beer label in between his fingers, moving it back and forth in his palm.

She nodded at Erin who placed a full glass in front of her before moving down the bar. “So…how do you spend your days on Grand Cayman, Noah?”

He glanced toward the thatched roof as if studying it for a flaw before answering. “Aside from writing, I own a small dive boat operation with my friend Larry. Private charters mostly.”

Once again the idea of him as a pirate flitted into her ongoing fantasy. “Hmm…you’re not fitting the stereotype I have about screenwriters.”

He leaned his elbow on the bar and propped his chin up with his fist. The sun hit his sunglasses just right, giving her a glimpse of his eyes watching her through the lenses.

“If you didn’t know what I did for a living, what stereotype would I fit?” he asked.

Male stripper. Movie star. Construction worker. Greek God. She peered over the rim of her glass without answering.