Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1) Read online

  I spent the next few minutes trying to shore up my courage. And I very well might have been fine—until David turned right instead of left at the end of Main Street. “Where are we going?” I asked, stopping

  He didn’t stop with me this time. “The mainland.”

  I hurried to catch up, nearly tripping over my feet. “But the ferry—”

  “We’re not taking the ferry,” he said, pointing to the marina. It was down the shore a bit from the ferry dock, filled with boats of all makes and sizes. “We’re taking my boat.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “Your boat?”

  “Yeah. I always take it when I’m going to the mainland. Why pay for the ferry and wait on their schedule when I have a boat of my own?”

  He pointed to the end of the marina, where the smaller boats were moored. Oh no. Oh no, no. These boats looked tiny. I tried to imagine any of them out there in the bay, and I shuddered. They couldn’t possibly be safe. As much as I hated the ferry, at least it was big. The size definitely added a level of protection, as far as I was concerned. If nothing else, it kept me far away from the surface of the water. But in one of those boats… I gulped. I would probably be able to reach down and touch the waves, if I wanted to. And I definitely did not.

  David was halfway down the street when he realized that I wasn’t following. He turned to face me, confusion, and maybe a touch of impatience, coloring his expression. “Is there a problem?”

  “Um, I don’t think I’ll join you, after all.” I was trying to keep the panic from my voice, but from the look on his face, I didn’t think I was doing a very good job. I hurried to continue. “I have a lot to do at the café and—”

  He frowned, eyebrows coming down over those grey eyes. Somehow, they looked lighter today. Probably the sunshine. “I thought you wanted to check out the vendor?”

  “Um, you can do that,” I said quickly. “I know Mimi trusts you.”

  “That’s nice of you to say,” he said slowly, eyes searching my face. “But I’m just a shift manager. Choosing stock is more than a little bit above my pay grade.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “I’m not authorized to sign for it, Iris.”

  Somehow, the sound of my name on his lips sent a little thrill through me, stronger even than the fear coursing through my blood. But then, I looked out at the little boats bobbing in the harbor, and the thrill disappeared. “I… I mean…”

  Damn it. Why hadn’t I insisted that Posey do this? Why on earth had I ever thought it was a good idea to agree to spend a day with David when I knew it would involve going out on the water? I was so stupid. And there was no way—

  “Hey.” Suddenly, David was standing right next to me, peering down into my face. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I croaked, voice hoarse. I swallowed. Twice. “I just have all this work.”

  “Iris.” There was that thrill again. Then his hand, heavy and warm, was on my shoulder, and I felt the strangest sensation. A physical pull, way too strong to be ignored, forcing my eyes up to his.

  I expected him to look impatient. Annoyed by whatever shenanigans I was pulling. Pissed that I was slowing him down. But he didn’t look like any of those things. His eyes were calm, his expression patient. Maybe even concerned.

  A sudden memory shot though my mind—a sixteen-year-old David approaching me that day in the cafeteria after Margo had made some cutting remark about me sitting alone. He appeared at my table like some kind of savior. “Anyone sitting here?” he asked, voice casual, like it was no big deal at all. I shook my head quickly and he shot me a quick, easy grin before sitting down.

  Knight in Shining Armor, indeed.

  “What’s going on?” he asked now, voice soft.

  “I’m afraid of the water,” I whispered. His eyes widened a little, and I suddenly realized what I had said. I had never said those words out loud, not to anyone. Not even my parents. Not even Posey, though I had a feeling she had a pretty good idea how I felt.

  “You’re afraid of the water?” His words weren’t mocking or judgmental. He just seemed surprised. When I didn’t respond, he looked out at the bay, rubbing the back of his neck. When his eyes met mine again, he was blinking rapidly. For a minute, I thought he might laugh at me, but he merely cleared his throat. “Um, Iris. You’re kind of surrounded by water here. Maybe moving to an island wasn’t the best idea.”

  I was laughing before I could even feel annoyed by his teasing. It did sound kind of ridiculous when he put it like that. I was staying in a place that could only be accessed by boat, for crying out loud. Not the best idea was putting it mildly.

  For a long moment, David just watched me laugh. His eyes were still doing that flashing thing. Then his lips twitched before twisting upward entirely. A low chuckle emerged from his throat, then another.

  David was laughing. I had started to think he had lost the ability in the years I’d been away from the island. I’d gotten a glimpse of it the other day when he was talking about the Libbies, but this was heartier. He looked different when he was laughing—the tight lines of his face melted away, his jaw no longer tense. His eyes looked even lighter, too, that pale blue instead of grey.

  “You look good when you’re happy,” I blurted without thinking.

  The laughing immediately stopped, and I stifled a groan. Great. We were going to go right back to the grumpy status quo. To my immense relief, David merely shrugged. “Guess I should try it more often then, huh?” he asked. Before I could even nod, he turned away and looked back down the shoreline toward the ferry.

  “You’ve been to the island dozens of times,” he said. “You lived here. Is the water thing new?”

  “No. It’s always freaked me out.” I shrugged. He just watched me in silence, waiting for me to elaborate. “It’s not so bad just to look at it,” I explained. “It’s really only when I’m over it. On the dock or on a boat or something.” I shuddered involuntarily, and his eyebrows came down.

  “The ferry?”

  I shrugged. “If I can sit in the middle, it’s not too bad.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I wanted to keep some of my dignity. “Seeing the waves is what usually makes me panic.”

  “Hmm.” He was rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. “Can you swim?”

  I laughed. Like I could have managed to get in the water without freaking long enough to learn. “Nope.”

  He was still rubbing his chin like he was trying to decide on something. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking. What he was thinking about me—did he think I was stupid? Childish? Was he maybe remembering that last fight before I left, when I had refused to join him and his friends on their boat trip and they called me a snob…

  Before I could say a word, he turned back to me. “Iris, do you trust me?”

  “I… um…” I was staring up into his eyes, intense and focused on mine. He was holding my gaze firmly, and it almost felt like… like his eyes were trying to say something to me. To calm me. It was weird, the way I could read them. And even weirder still that it worked.

  “Yes,” I said quickly. “I do.”

  His lips twitched once more, nearly a smile, but then he was taking my hand and leading me down the road to the marina, and I could no longer see his face. The feeling of calm remained, however. The fear had faded to a dull roar in my ears as I followed David. He was solid in front of me, his shoulders broad enough to block most of my view of the water. As long as I concentrated on him, one step in front of me, leading me along, I didn’t feel scared at all.

  Chapter 10

  “And this is the anchor,” David said, slapping the metal edge. “This goes down one hundred feet, so it’s great for fishing all around the island.”

  I shivered at the thought of one hundred feet of water under this boat. David’s eyes were sharp on my face, and he smiled gently. “Don’t worry. We aren’t putting down anchor anywhere near that deep.”

  I nodded, trying to dispel the queasy feeling in my stomach.
The little speedboat was bobbing up and down, and though we were still tied to the dock, I desperately missed the comfort of solid ground beneath my feet.

  “Okay, what else,” David said, looking around the boat. He had already shown me the hull, the lifejacket storage, the engine, the backup oars, and the steering column. “The first step to feeling comfortable is knowing what you’re dealing with,” he had told me as he helped me off the dock into the boat, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes that felt like an eternity. “You need to understand the machine that you’re putting your trust in.”

  I wasn’t sure if I understood the machine much, even after his explanations, but I was breathing a lot more normally than I had been when we made our way down the dock.

  “Ah,” he said now, his face lighting up. “The sonar. Look at this.”

  I followed him back to the little display screen next to the steering wheel. “This shows me all the rocks and reefs that might be in my way. I can search manually to plot my course, but it also has a built-in warning system in case I get too close. It’s a good piece of technology.” He looked out over the water. “But when it comes to this island, I don’t really need it. I know these waters like the back of my hand.”

  “But you turn it on, anyway, right?” I asked, hearing the squeaky note of fear in my voice.

  David smiled. “Always. I’m a very cautious boater, Iris.”

  I nodded, trying to breathe through my nose the way he had instructed when my breath was coming in short gasps. “Oh, one more thing.” He pointed to an antenna mounted to the metalwork above our heads. “GPS system.”

  “So you don’t get lost and end up in Wisconsin?”

  He grinned. “Yup. And so the coast guard can find me if I run into a problem.” He patted a metal box under the captain’s seat. “And a sat phone.”

  I couldn’t help but feel impressed. Neither my grandpa’s nor Uncle Franks’ boat had half as many safety features. “You take this seriously.”

  He nodded, all laughter gone from his face. “Very seriously. You’re right to respect the water, Iris. Respect for nature keeps us on our toes so we don’t make stupid mistakes.”

  I swallowed. “Do you make stupid mistakes?”

  He grinned. “Rarely. And never on the lake.”

  I nodded, curling my fingers into the fabric of the back of the passenger chair. “So,” he said, crossing his arms. “Now you’ve seen my boat and you should have some idea of what kind of captain I would be. If you want, we can take the ferry. But I think you’ll feel better on Love Spell here.”

  “Love Spell?” I asked, eyebrows shooting up.

  He grinned sheepishly. “I was twenty-four and feeling romantic.”

  I laughed. “It’s nice.”

  “She’s nice,” he corrected. He patted the steering wheel. “Boats are always a she, and this one is my baby. She’ll get you safely to shore, Iris.”

  I took a deep breath, looking around the harbor. I didn’t feel quite as scared as I had earlier. In fact, I was kind of enjoying myself. And he was right—he had shown me what kind of captain he would be. Serious, conscientious, and safety minded. Back on the road, I had told him that I trusted him. I still did. Even more so now.

  “I think I’ll try Love Spell.”

  He actually beamed at me. He almost looked proud. “Excellent choice. You won’t be sorry.”

  I perched on the edge of the chair, hoping he was right, watching as he moved to untie the ropes. He only worked for a few seconds before he turned to me, familiar scowl back on his face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “What?”

  He pointed at me. “Nobody just sits on Love Spell when there’s work to be done. Get off your ass, lazybones.”

  “Well, excuse me, Mr. Nautical Drill Sergeant. What do you want me to do?”

  “Grab the lines off the port side. Make sure you pull them up into the boat, don’t let them fall.”

  I looked helplessly from one side of the boat to the other. “Uh, port?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh God. You’re such a newb.”

  “Hey!” I cried, but I was laughing. “You’re going to be an ass to the girl with the water phobia?”

  He pulled in the line he was working on and crossed over to me in two long strides. He was standing close, maybe a bit too close, his tall body once again blocking my view of anything but him. He ducked his head a little, eyes meeting mine, and I felt my heart rate speed up. “You’re not the girl with the water phobia, Iris. You’re the girl who’s facing her fears.”

  I felt something warm shift through my chest at those words.

  “Now.” Then his hands were on my shoulders, and my heart seemed to stop entirely. God, his hands were big. And strong. He turned me slightly, and I was suddenly inundated with images of what he could do with those hands if he—

  “This is port,” he was saying, and I shook my head to clear the completely embarrassing thoughts. I guess I hadn’t grown up very much since high school, if all it took for him to have this effect on me was a simple touch.

  “There’s an easy way to remember,” he said, and I forced my eyes from their resting place on his lips up to his eyes so I could concentrate. “Port has four letters, just like the word left. So if you’re facing the bow—that’s the front—port will be on your left.”

  “Then why don’t they just call it left?”

  His lips twitched. “Because that wouldn’t be very nautical-ish, would it?”

  “Nautical-ish? Is that even a word?”

  “It is on my boat.”

  His eyes flicked down to my mouth, and I realized I was leaning into him. He released my shoulders, taking a quick step back, and tripped over the rope he had just dropped, only managing to steady himself by grabbing the steering wheel.

  I wanted to tease him about making mistakes on the water, but I was too embarrassed by my reaction to him. He could obviously tell what was going through my mind—he couldn’t have moved away more quickly if he had jumped.

  “So,” he said, his voice sounding strangely gruff. “Lines on the port side, okay?”

  “Okay.” I bent over the first rope, grateful for the excuse to hide my blushing face. This was just like me, to get so completely carried away based on practically nothing. A little touch, a bit of teasing, and I was swooning like a teenager. Get it together, Iris.

  With both of us working, we had the ropes taken care of in short order. I was glad he had given me a task so I didn’t have to think about what was coming. It wasn’t until he started the motor and was maneuvering away from the dock that I felt the nerves return. I held fast to the bench seat in the back, wishing these things came with seatbelts.

  “Come sit up here,” he called over the sound of the engine, patting the chair across from him. Walking on the moving boat felt like the most unnatural thing in the world—surely clutching the seat I was in, frozen, until we reached land was the safest option. “Iris,” he called, turning to me. He held out a hand. “Come sit here. You’ll feel better if we’re talking.”

  I nodded once and reached out for his hand. He grabbed it, holding tight, while I forced myself the three steps to the chair beside him. “Good job!”

  I searched his face for signs that he was being sarcastic, but he seemed genuinely happy at my small steps. “It gets more comfortable moving around on board when you get your sea legs,” he promised, releasing my hand. I thought I caught sight of him rubbing his red knuckles under the steering wheel. I guess I had been squeezing pretty hard.

  He steered us away from the dock and through the harbor. I felt overwhelmed by the number of boats tied up around us. It was kind of like sitting on the freeway in traffic. But David steered the boat calmly, apparently unbothered by the obstacles.

  “Okay,” he told me, once we were clear of the marina. “I’m going to add some speed, but nothing major.”

  “Add some speed?” I yelped, pointing behind me at the marina. “What the hell did you call
that?”

  He laughed. “I was practically idling.”

  There was nothing but open water ahead of us. I gripped the cushion as hard as I could, barely hearing David’s voice. “Don’t worry, Iris. I just need to get away from the marina, then we’ll come right back toward shore, okay?”

  I nodded, feeling sick. “Hey,” he said, peeling my hand from the edge of the cushion. “Remember everything you know about the boat, okay? You’re safe.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to remember the things he had told me. Running the boat wasn’t much different from driving a car. An engine, an ignition, a steering wheel. There was sonar to keep us from hitting anything. A GPS to keep us from getting lost. An anchor if we needed to stop. Lifejackets in the storage cage, as well as the one I was wearing. And David sitting next to me, completely calm, completely in control. I relaxed my fingers in his hand and opened my eyes.

  “There you go,” he said approvingly.

  I looked around. We were motoring through the water about fifty yards away from the marina. Now that my panic had receded, I could admit that we were going rather slowly. David was cutting a clear line through the water. Up at the bow, I could hear the water hitting the hull, and here along the side of the boat, it was pushing away from us. As I turned to see the wake we created, the bay seemed calm, the large waves from the day of my arrival absent.

  “You’re doing great,” he said, turning the wheel slightly. We were away from the traffic of the marina now, and David seemed to be heading along the shoreline—away from the ferry route. “Where are we going?” I asked. “Isn’t the mainland that way?”

  David nodded. “I thought you needed to get comfortable before heading out. Besides, I want to show you something first.”

  “David.” I tugged on his hand a little. “I might be facing my fears and everything, but I think in this situation, speed is our friend.”

  “Speed?” he asked, face brightening. “You want me to open her up?”

  “No!” I yelped, and he laughed.