Do I?
He would have thought so until recently.
His going through the motions, doing the same thing over and over again, had become less . . . satisfying. No denying it.
“I do love this place,” he said slowly. “Westport.”
“You’d never think of leaving.” A statement, not a question.
“No,” he answered anyway, resisting the urge to qualify that definite no somehow.
She leaned down to smell one of the blooms on his purple aster bush. “What about a vacation? Do you ever take them?”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “When I was a kid, my parents used to bring me camping on Whidbey Island. They moved down to Eugene, Oregon, a while back to be closer to my mother’s family.”
“No leisure trips since childhood? Nothing at all?”
Brendan shook his head, chuckling when Piper gave him a scandalized look. “People take trips to see the ocean. I don’t need to go anywhere for that. She’s right here in my backyard.”
Piper came closer, amusement dancing in her eyes. “My mother warned me all about you king crab fishermen and your love affairs with the sea. I thought she was being dramatic, but you really can’t resist the pull of the water, can you?” She searched his face. “You’re in a serious relationship.”
Something shifted in his stomach. “What do you mean, she warned you?”
Her shoulder lifted and dropped. “She loves her husband, Daniel. But . . . I think there was some unprocessed grief talking. Because of what happened to Henry.” She stared off into the distance, as if trying to recall the conversation. “She told me and Hannah that fishermen always choose the sea. They go back over and over again, even if it scares their loved ones. Based on that, I’m guessing she wanted Henry to quit and . . . you know the rest.”
This wasn’t a conversation he’d planned on. Would he ever give up the more dangerous aspects of his job? No. No, battling the tides, the current, the waves was his life’s work. There was salt water running through his veins. Making it clear that he would always choose the ocean, no matter what, put him at a deficit with Piper already—and they hadn’t even eaten yet.
But when she turned her face up to the moonlight, and he saw only honest curiosity there, he felt compelled to make her understand.
“Every year, I get a couple of greenhorns on the boat. First-time crabbers. Most of them are young kids trying to make some quick cash, and they never make it longer than the first season. But once in a while, there’s one . . . I can see it from the wheelhouse. The bond he’s forming with the sea. And I know he’ll never get away from her.”
She smiled. “Like you.”
A voice whispered in the back of his head, You’re screwing yourself. He was an honest man, though, often to a fault. “Yeah. Like me.” He searched her hairline. “That bruise on your head is finally gone.”
She reached up and rubbed the spot. “It is. Did I ever thank you properly for sending Abe to pad the upper bunk?”
“No thanks necessary.”
Piper eliminated the remaining distance between them, stopping just shy of her tits touching his chest. She was soft, graceful, feminine. So much smaller than him. With her this close, he felt like a tamed giant, holding his breath and waiting, waiting to see what the beautiful girl would do next. “You could have just kissed it and made it all better.”
His exhale came out hard, thanks to all the blood in his body rushing south to his cock. “You told me your flirt was broken with me. It doesn’t seem like that’s the case tonight.”
Her lips curved. “Maybe because I came dressed in body armor.”
Brendan tilted his head and let his gaze sweep across her bare shoulders, legs, and back to her low, tight neckline. “That armor couldn’t protect you from anything.”
Something flickered in her eyes. “Couldn’t it?”
She sailed into the house, leaving her seductive scent in her wake.
Brendan had always thought battling the ocean would forever be his biggest challenge. But that was before he met Piper. Maybe he didn’t know the how or the what of this thing between them yet, but his gut never lied. He’d never lost a battle with the water when listening to his instincts, and he hoped like hell those same instincts wouldn’t fail him now.
Chapter Sixteen
Piper watched Brendan take a seat on the opposite side of the table and frowned.
The boat captain didn’t appear to be easily seduced. When she’d picked this dress out, she hadn’t even expected them to make it through the front door, but here they were, sitting in his charmingly masculine dining room, preparing to eat food he made himself.
And he’d bought her champagne.
Men had bought her jewelry, taken her to nice restaurants—one eager beaver had even bought her a Rolls for her twenty-second birthday. She’d made no bones about liking nice things. But none of those gifts had ever made her feel as special as this homemade meal.