“N-not any of the Deep Six crew,” he said, still wheezing.
“Nah,” she assured him. “They’re too much like my brothers for me to set my sights on them.” She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Well, except foryou. We’ve never really gotten all that friendly. Why is that, do you suppose?”
“I need a drink,” he said by way of answer.
She watched him push up from the bench and stagger into the galley. When he reappeared in the doorway, he was guzzling a bottle of water.
Figuring he wasn’t going to answer her question, she decided she’d outline her strategy for him in the hope that he’d offer a second opinion on her plan. It was a small hope, given his propensity for aphasia, but she was a gambler by nature and had won on low odds before. “I’m thinking I should tag along with Romeo or Uncle John the next time they make a Key West run. How hard can it be to pick up a tourist in a bar? I mean”—she frowned down at her black T-shirt with the red lettering that read:History…don’t make me repeat myself—“I clean up pretty good when I try. What do you think?”
After he’d drained the contents of the bottle, he took a deep breath that made his chest expand to ridiculous proportions. “Your virginity…” He shook his head, still looking slightly ragged. “It isn’t something you should give away to some random fucknuts you pick up at a bar.”Ya pick up atta bahwas how his accent made the sentence sound. She did solovehow hearing him talk brought to mind Ivy League schools, crisp fall leaves, and steaming clam chowder. Which was one more reason his usual mutism annoyed her.
“Why not?” she demanded.
Now he just looked exasperated…or constipated. She wasn’t sure which. “Because it’sspecial!” he bellowed, throwing his hands in the air. “You should save it for someone you at leastlike.”
“Are you volunteering?” And it was beyond satisfying to watch his chin jerk back and listen to him sputter.
“B-but you just admitted that youdon’tlike me.”
“Not so.” She shook her head. “I said there aretimeswhen I’m notsureif I like you. That’s totally different.”
He blinked. And while he was blinking, the silence on the boat stretched. It was broken only by theslap-slapof the waves between the twin hulls. Finally, he opened his mouth. She leaned across the table, eagerly awaiting his reply.Are my beaver teeth showing?But to her disappointment, he snapped it shut again and grumbled, “I need another drink.”
When he turned back into the galley, she studied the wide V-shape of his torso, feeling a bit giddy that she’d managed to throw him for a loop. A man of Mason’s size didn’t get tossed around too often. And that meant she gave herself major kudos for accomplishing the feat.
Then it occurred to her that maybe asking him to volunteer wasn’t so completely ludicrous after all.
I mean, I’m a girl. He’s a guy. I’m not looking for love and neither is he. So it’ll be completely objective,scientificeven.
Hmm.The longer she thought about it, the more intrigued she became.
“Do you find me attractive?” she asked when he reappeared in the doorway with a second bottle of water. She watched his reaction closely. Of course, she didn’t have to watchtooclosely since his jaw hanging open was hard to miss. He choked again.
The man has some sort of throat problem apparently.
“It’s a really simple question,” she told him conversationally. “And don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I’m a big girl. I can take anything you tell me.”
And she convinced herself that was the truth, even though her insides were quivering around like pudding. She wasnervous.Why am I nervous?Oh, right. Because she was putting herself out there and asking big, burly Mason McCarthy if he fancied her bod the same way she fancied his.
“So?” she prompted when he just stood there blinking at her.Is he nearsighted or something? Did sand get in his eyes?
“Sorry.” He shook his head. “What was the question again?”
“Ugh.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “How many times am I going to be asked that tonight?”
He must’ve thought it was a rhetorical question, because he didn’t answer her, simply continued to play the part of a blinking mute.
“Do. You. Find. Me. Attractive?” She enunciated each word and punctuated the end of the question with a quick flutter of her lashes.
A muscle ticked beneath his eye again. It was joined by another in his jaw. And for a while she thought he wasn’t going to answer her at all. But then he muttered, “Yes.”
It was just the one word. No elaboration. But it was all she needed to hear. “Then it’s perfect!” she said, grinning and clapping her hands.
“How do you figure?”
“Well, because you thinkI’mattractive and I thinkyou’reattractive.” She began ticking off the reasons on her fingers. “You’re not some stranger at a bar. I know you. And you know me. And considering we don’t really get along in our everyday lives, there’s no chance we’ll develop any of those pesky romantic feelings for one another, so it’ll just be a physical thing. What do you say? Do you want to be my first?”
He choked again.
