Slow Burn (55 page)

Confident that I look the best I possibly can, I grab a jacket and my things and head out. 
I drive out to Tamara Fife’s house.  It’s pure serendipity that she happens to be in need of transportation the same day I need to stash my car someplace safe for the night.

“Whoa.”

Tamara answers the door, staring at me open-mouthed as she takes in how I’m dressed.

“You think it’s too much?” I glance down at myself, just now realizing how short and tight the dress really is
.  Damn it, I need to change before I make a fool of myself!

“No way,” Tamara is saying, ushering me into her house.  “You’re gorgeous.  Johnny’s
eyes are gonna bug out of his head when he sees you!”

“Oh, uh, Johnny and I broke up,” I say awkwardly.  I drop my bag on her flowered couch
, avoiding her eyes.

“Yeah, I heard that, but I thought you guys got back together?”  She says it like a question at the end.

I shake my head, embarrassed.  “Nope.  Oh—before I forget, here are the keys.”

“Thanks, Juliet!”  Tamara takes them from me, beaming.  “So who’s
your new guy?”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings.  Wiggling her eyebrows at me, she skips over the door to answer it. 
I can almost feel her shock when she opens the door to find Dean standing there.

I suck in a breath.  He is absolutely, incredibl
y stunning in dark slacks that emphasize the trim cut of his hips, and his long legs, and a long-sleeved gray shirt unbuttoned at the top.  I can see the black cord of his necklace peeking out, and it is
so
sexy.

For real. 
Damn
.

I feel sorry for poor Tamara.  She’s not moving, like, at all.  I wonder if she’s even blinking.  Dean’s looking down at her
with some concern.  Then he looks past her.  His eyes finds me, and everything else ceases to exist.

Oh, god, the way he’s looking at me right now…

He very slowly and very thoroughly takes me in, starting with my face and hair.  His gaze drops down to my mouth, lingers, then continues to travel down my body…then slowly back up again.  By the time his eyes meet mine, they’re slightly unfocused and his breathing is uneven.  I’m amazed and thrilled that I can affect him this way.  Dean is looking at me like I’m beautiful, and my doubts and fears—all the worst things that I think about myself…seem to melt away.  He does that to me, I realize.  He makes me feel good about myself.

I somehow manage to walk toward him, de
spite legs that are the consistency of jelly.  I stop next to a googly-eyed Tamara.  “Hi,” I say softly.

A hint of a smile touc
hes Dean’s mouth.  “Hi.”  He shakes his head slightly.  “You look incredible.”

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”  I suddenly remember my manners.  “Tamara, this is Dean, my—uh—”

“Boyfriend,” Dean fills in for me, his voice firm. 
Oh, my god!
  He nods at Tamara.  “Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m Tamara!”
  Tamara grins enthusiastically.  “I know who you are, and it’s great to meet you.  Congratulations on LSU, by the way.”

“Thanks
,” he acknowledges, taking a step in when she stands aside and gestures him forward.  She stares at me with wide eyes behind his back, mouthing, “Ohmagawd!”

I grin at her.  Dean sees my bag on the couch and goes to get it for me.
  Tamara keeps silently asking me questions, but I don’t understand what she’s saying.  I just shrug and continue to smile.  The best thing about her is that she knows how to keep her mouth shut, and I’m reasonably certain she won’t be posting anything online.  At least, I hope.

“Ready to go?” Dean asks me, already backing toward the door.

Hell, yes, I am!  We say our goodbyes to Tamara, and I try to play it cool as I slide into the passenger seat of the Pontiac.  But I totally can’t keep the smile off my face—especially when Dean leans over, grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me toward him.  He takes my lips in a kiss that has me bucking in my seat and forgetting where I am.

I don’t know what comes over me.  Oh, god, yes, I do.  I
kiss Dean back with everything I have, and it’s still not enough.  Pretty soon, I am climbing over to his side, and straddling him, and—

Dean pulls back a little to look at me.  “Did you just hit your back on the steering wheel?”

“Yes,” I say faintly, biting back howls of pain.  “Oh, my god.  It hurts so bad.”

I meet his eyes, and have to laugh, despite the pain.  He grins back, carefully trying to shift us so we have more room to maneuver.  There’s no room.

“Ow.”  I close my eyes, half giggling, half groaning.  “No, don’t move.  Can you just drive like this?”

“Someday soon we’ll test that theory.”  Dean’s chuckle
is smoky and a little strained as I cautiously try to wiggle off his lap.

“Ow, ow, ow.” 

I manage to slide off of him, and back onto my seat.  I’m still laughing, until I notice Tamara’s front door is open and Tamara, and an older woman who’s probably her mother are standing in the doorway, staring at us.  The older woman looks slightly traumatized.  Tamara looks so engrossed, I wanna give her popcorn and candy and charge admission.

“Drive,” I say in a low voice to Dean.  “Just drive.”

Despite the rough start, I’m super excited.  We could be going to the dentist, and I’d still be thrilled.  I have to keep pinching my arm to remind myself to savor every single moment.

“Hey, there’s your old neighborhood,” I say, looking out the window. 
“You know, we should go back to the park one day.  Lot of good memories there, despite the bullying.”

I give
Dean a teasing look, and he sighs almost imperceptibly.  “I didn’t bully you.”

“You called me Fun Size,” I remind him indignantly.

“You called me Gigantor first.”

“I…d
id I really?”  I gasp suddenly.  I totally could have—that sounds like me.  “Well, if I did, it was because you used to look at me like I was an insect.”

I wait for Dean to deny it, but he doesn’t.  He just
looks over at me while simultaneously increasing speed.

“You don’t know much about ten year old boys,”
he says finally, sounding amused.

“No, I don’t
.”  I shudder.  “So where are we going again?”

Dean smirks
.  “Nice try.”

In retaliation
, I put on my eighties monster ballads, compiled specifically for this trip.  As special torture, I sing along.  If Heather were here, she would harmonize with me.  Dean pretends to be afraid of my awesome dance moves.  Okay, maybe he’s not pretending.

Forty-five minutes later, we’re at Shady Harbor.  Why?  Because Dean has a freaking yacht
moored there!  It’s a sleek sixty something footer, and it doesn’t matter that it actually belongs to his grandfather—because apparently the grandfather never uses it.  It might as well be Dean’s.  Um…
why
can’t money buy you happiness?

“Mack and the others
use her more than I do,” Dean says of the Eye of the Storm.  He shrugs.  “I like sailboats.” 

I’m helped aboard by a thin, nice-looking guy about my age.  He’s the most monochrome-looking guy I’ve ever seen:  brown eyes, fluffy brown hair, and brown skin.  His shirt is brown, and he’s wearing ancient khaki shorts.  He’s introduced to me as
Finley, and I assume he’s the captain’s son—until the captain wraps an arm around Finley’s slim waist, and plants a kiss on his cheek.  Unless fathers are that openly affectionate with their sons?  I don’t know.

Captain Dan is an older guy—stringy and tall, with weathered brown skin and bright blue eyes.  He seems nice enough as he welcomes us
aboard.  I’m too awed by my surroundings to pay attention while he and Dean discuss maintenance and weather patterns.  Then I hear Captain Dan say, “Miss Deschamps,” and my ears perk up.

“She and a friend of hers were out here earlier today,” he’s saying.  “I’m sorry to say they made quite a mess of the
master cabin.  We’ll need to be replacing some of the blinds, and probably the mattress.”

Dean nods, brow furrowing.  “Okay.  Please bill it to my account.  I’ll have a talk with her later.”

“Kara was here?” I hiss at Dean once Captain Dan steps away.  “You let her use your boat?”

Dean stares out at the water, annoyed.  “Not anymore.”

The thought of Kara partying on Dean’s grandfather’s boat bothers me like an insistent wiggly feeling in the back of my head.  I wonder who her friend was.  I’m assuming it was a guy.  The Preppy Rapist, maybe?  Ugh.

I try to put all those irritating thoughts of Kara out of my head as Dean gives me a tour.  The Eye of the Storm really is an awesome party boat.  The deck has
a dining area where you can either enjoy a meal at the table, or convert the benches into a big lounge to sunbathe.  There is a TV mounted in the helm station area, and there’s even a built-in sink and grill in the cockpit.  Downstairs is even more amazing, with all the comforts of home—and then some.  I love the dark wood and cream design, and the efficient use of space.  There are little cabinets and compartments everywhere—I want to open them all up to see what they hold.

There are two cabins, but we don’t go in the one Kara was in.  If the mattress needs to be replaced, I don’t want to go in there.
  I guess Dean feels the same way since  he keeps that door closed, and shows me the other cabin, which is just big enough for a decent-sized bed.  The shelves and cabinets on the sides are built in, as is the entertainment center.

I nudge Dean’s arm, my eyebrows raised.  “Does this mean we’ll be sharing a bed since there’s not really any space for you on the floor?”

His answering grin is stunning, and so sexy it makes my heart stop.  “Oh, yeah,” he says under his breath.

Impulsively, I grab his belt buckle and start backing up towards the bed.  “Well, then, what are we waiting for?”

Dean lets me pull him forward until the back of my legs hit the bed, and let myself fall back on it.  He leans over me, placing a soft kiss on my forehead, then he says next to my ear, “We’re waiting until we’re alone, so you can be as loud as you want when I make you scream my name.”

I gasp
, blushing so hard my entire body warms.  What an un-Dean thing to say!  His eyes gleam wickedly as he straightens up.  Then he just walks out of the room, leaving me sprawled on the bed.  When I’m able to close my mouth again, I jump up and sprint after him.

“I cannot believe you just said that to me,” I tell Dean as I follow him up the steps to the deck.

He tries to ignore me until I tug on the bag of his shirt.  “Dean.”

He turns and suddenly tugs me forward so I’m leaning against his chest.  “You don’t think I can do it?” he murmurs,
and I repress a smile at the arrogant tone in his voice.  This is the first time I’ve heard it.  Dean’s never arrogant—he doesn’t have to be.

I laugh nervously, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.  “That wasn’t a challenge.”

There’s a flash of Dean’s straight white teeth.  “I think it was, Juliet.”

Oh, no.

I notice that guy, Finley, watching us from the cockpit.  When he sees me looking, he smiles and swivels his chair to face Captain Dan.  He leans over and whispers something in the Captain’s ear, making him laugh.

Definitely not father and son, right?

The sun is setting as we cruise out of the harbor.  The pink-orange glow cast over the rippling waves and the scattered clouds is absolutely breathtaking—but even the beauty of the scenery pales in comparison to the guy with his arms around me.  His eyes in the dying light are translucent jewels. My heart just aches as I stare at him.  I remember when I thought his beauty didn’t move me.

Who was I kidding.

******

Chapter 46

After Finley serves us our dinner—seared ahi tuna crusted with sesame over a soba salad (yum!)—he and Captain Dan prepare to leave on jet skis.  Captain Dan says they’ll see us bright and early tomorrow morning, so I guess they plan on staying in town overnight.  I don’t want to picture the two of them shacked up together, but the images keep coming because of the way they keep smiling at each other.  Please don’t let them be related.

After an absolutely delicious slice of lemon cheesecake, Dean converts the benches into
a bed, and lie together under the stars.  Between the built-in heaters on the sides and Dean’s arms, I’m plenty warm, despite the chill in the air.  Thank goodness there’s not much of a breeze tonight, or it would be downright cold.

After some prodding from me, Dean reveals more about himself.  Apart from working on cars, most of his
hobbies are physical activities—working out, running, mountaineering.  I hate working out and running, but I’d be totally down for some rock climbing.  Dean tells me about some climbs he and Ben have done in the Sierras, and despite the plain words he uses, he makes it sound like a magical experience.  I silently add that to my list of things to do before college.  Ooh, maybe we could do that over spring break!