“I mean,” Reid said, floundering. “I burned my hand. I’d fix dinner, but . . . ouch. I’m so sorry, you’ll have to take over tonight.”
Sullivan’s brow quirked. “You burned yourself?”
“Yes, see?” Reid turned his hand palm up and presented it to Sullivan.
Sullivan glanced down. “I don’t see anything.”
Reid folded all but one of his fingers and lifted it between his eyes. Warm, slightly callused fingers cuffed Reid’s wrist and Reid felt the gentle pressure like a pulse.
Sullivan inspected his finger. “I still don’t see anything.”
“See that red spot?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it.”
Sullivan’s fingers loosened but they didn’t slide off him. “Pack your bags, we better race to the ER.”
Sullivan stroked Reid’s finger absently. “Did you put it under cold water?”
“I put it in my mouth. A little sucking does wonders for relief.”
Sullivan dropped Reid’s fingers and desperately eyed the exit.
Thunder cracked in the distance, and a violent swell underfoot shot uneasiness through Reid. He lunged for support. Namely Sullivan. Reid clasped Sullivan’s firm bicep through the soft sleeve. “So, gonna help me out?”
Sullivan stepped back, shaking his head.
Reid moved with him. “All right, forget about dinner. How about we spend time together? We could invent an exciting game where we crawl off the boat onto firm ground. It could double as yoga.”
Sullivan flexed under Reid’s tightly gripping fingers.
“Whoa, forget yoga,” Reid said, rubbing Sullivan’s arms admiringly. “What do you do to grow those?”
Sullivan grunted, then unwound Reid’s hands and offered him the table ledge.
Okay, Reid may have overdone it with the rubbing. He grinned, slightly flushed, and pointed at Sullivan’s arms, torso, his whole damn body. “Seriously, though. How do you look so good?”
Sullivan scrubbed his jaw. “Swim. Bike. Sail.”
From years of habit, Reid spat back, “Fuck, marry, kill.”
Sullivan’s gaze sizzled into him. “Pardon?”
Erm . . . “Fuck while swimming in shallow waters, marry anyone that worships firm ground, stab anything with sails? You don’t know the game?”
“I know the version played with celebrities.”
“Loretta and I adapted it for shits and giggles. Whistle. Jacket. Cushion. Go.”
Sullivan blinked. “With conversations like these, I could be in real danger of liking you. How about you disappear into the galley and we ignore this out-of-control magnetic force between us?”
Such dry witty sarcasm. Reid gaped, speechless. “You’re . . . funny.”
“If you say so.”
“You make me want to laugh.”
Sullivan spun from him and escaped the room. “Laugh while you cook.”
The sad Viking God kept looking at him.
-David
Second Time Around
Chapter Six
In the end he salvaged scraps of lasagna and served the Bells dinner with lettuce on the side. The next couple of days he ordered takeout, plated it, and hid the evidence. Not a long-term plan, but maybe he could find workarounds until his trial month ended?
Hopefully.
In the meantime, hanging with Joanna was a breeze. Despite barely seeing Sullivan in the flesh, he overheard him chatting with Joanna in his studio every evening. She did her homework down there, and Reid loved the mental picture of Sullivan patiently answering her wildly smart questions.
The captain might have issues, but loving his daughter wasn’t one of them.
Reid slumped into the saloon. A dewy, salty evening breeze funneled in from the partially opened hatch.
He wasn’t sure if he was shivering from the cold, the fact he had to make dinner after his credit card was declined while ordering takeout, or the message he’d received from Toni.
All three, probably.
Joanna eyed him from the couch over the magazine she was reading, elbow resting atop her overnight bag. She wore jeans and a clashing pink pullover that Reid was sure she’d chosen on purpose. Her hair was tightly braided and her freckled cheeks were rosy from the draft.
Reid moped into the kitchen. Blindly, he slid open cupboards, pulling out anything that appeared edible.
Joanna cleared her throat. “You look green.”
It wasn’t solely seasickness. “Ugh, matters of the heart.”
She leapt off the couch and trundled toward him, still holding her magazine. “Tell me more.”
Joanna’s eagerness tugged at a grin. It didn’t last long, though. He groaned. “Toni messaged about picking up my stuff. I mean, I knew it was coming. But it still stings.”
She jumped onto the counter next to him, and casually resumed perusing the weekly horoscopes. “Dad needs help with his love life. You need help with yours. I can provide the answers. I think I should quit school and become a matchmaker.”
Reid pointed a carrot at her. “No quitting school. But I’ll take all the help I can find in the romance department.”
Light sparked in her eye. “I’m off for a sleepover tonight. You have no obvious manny obligations.”
“Suggesting I put myself out there again?”
“Yeah. Take Dad out and have some fun.”
Fun. Good idea. The Unresolved Sullivan Tension was killing Reid. He’d complained to Loretta about Sullivan’s countless disappearing acts so much this week, she had threatened to block him unless he took action.
“You’re right, Joanna,” Reid said. “I need a night with your dad.”
After a cringeworthy dinner of soup, Reid freshened up. He palmed his ass, admiring his skin-hugging jeans and his favorite black T-shirt with the artistic hole at his hip that had landed him a few numbers.
Bars and clubs weren’t his favorite pastime—he preferred curling up with a movie at home—but tonight he was filled with sparkly energy to do something fun with Sullivan.
He snuck to Sullivan’s bedroom door. Voices from Sullivan’s audiobook droned in his ear, and Reid grinned.
Every night, the same.
Like Sullivan couldn’t sleep without it.
He pressed an ear against the door. The male narrator described a surprise kiss—quite the passionate kiss, too. The heroine was getting off on the guy’s steady, demanding need to consume her mouth.
“Please, my knees might give way,” I said, weakly protesting with the barest turn of my head. He pressed me hard against the galley door, propping me up with his thigh between mine. His breath was hot in my ear and his words trembled, yanking at my chest.
“I want your knees to give way. I want you to know what I feel every time I look at you.”
The captain listened to romance books?
Reid liked it.
It meant Sullivan was ready to find true romance again, right?
He raised his hand to knock, when a sniff cut through the air. It cut Reid like a jagged rock to the heart.
He froze, fist poised an inch from the wood paneling.
Or maybe it meant Sullivan longed for the love of his life.