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Dark fury kindles low in my belly, stoked by utter disgust. I don’t have a grain of patience or empathy for people who are unfaithful to their partners. This woman is the finest of the fine, and this jackass chases tail indiscriminately. I don’t get it. How could he two-time her? How could he do something that could rip her to shreds?
I’ve never seen this girl before today, barely spoken to her, but emotions are roiling and seething inside me.
What. The. Hell?
She cuts through a few people on her way to him, and he slides an arm around her shoulders when she reaches him. I find myself ambling that way, as if my feet are working independently of my brain. Harper’s surrounded by a group of our teammates, and I catch a few words as he introduces her. Her first name is Jackie, and her last name’s the same as his.
She’s his … wife? One of the guys ribs him about hiding her from the rest of us, and the gist crystallizes.
She’s his sister.
I thought she was hands-off the moment she smiled at another guy. Now that I know she’s Harper’s sister, she is so far off-limits she may as well be circling the solar system in a spaceship.
It’s all the excuse I need to flee, and I don’t hesitate.
Chapter 4
Gail Force
Colby
I step from my truck and fill my lungs with air that’s thick with salt and brine.
“Mama, I’m home,” I murmur to no one in particular.
Tossing my duffel on top of a cooler, I lock my vehicle and head for the metal mesh gate, where I punch in a code. The latch clicks, and I push through the gate, its hinges squeaking in complaint.
My boat shoes slap against the weathered planks as I make my way along the dock. A fellow sailor securing a line calls out from his boat. “Good to see you back!”
I return his greeting with an irrepressible grin. “It’s good to be back!”
It’s been too damn long.
As I get closer to my destination, I spot her gleaming white hull, and my chest swells. I increase my pace, like a kid chasing down the ice cream truck. She’s nowhere near the most expensive boat in the marina, but her lines are elegant and purposeful, the perfect balance between function and beauty. Best of all, she’s mine.
I pause a moment to take her in. Her name stretches across her stern in navy lettering outlined in gold.
Gail Force.
I pull in another breath and push it out on an extended sigh. A lot of hockey players find their Zen on the golf course, my past and present teammates included. Me? I’d rather chase the wind than a little white ball. My Zen is on the water, with the wind snapping the sails and whipping my hair, the sun glinting off the waves like golden prisms. Nothing compares to the high I get from sailing—except maybe sex or scoring a game-winning goal in a playoff game. Those come pretty close, although I don’t have experience with the latter—but my imagination does.
I board my boat, dropping my duffel on the berth in the aft cabin and stowing my groceries before I get to work. It’s been weeks since I’ve been here, and I need to check her out before I take her out. Normally, I’d crank on tunes, but today the only music I need is the lap of the water against her hull, the screech of seagulls wheeling overhead, and the clinking and clanking of sailors working on their rigging. The sounds blend together in a perfect symphony.
Before long, I’m lost in my own world when some of the regular wharf rats come around to say hey. We trade stories about our boats and the latest news about the weather. They don’t know I’m a pro hockey player, and I don’t know what they do outside of marina life. And that’s the way I plan to keep it. Two entirely separate worlds that are going to stay that way, and I have a foot firmly planted in each one.
A woman with a long gray ponytail in a tie-dyed sweatshirt approaches, and I raise my hand in greeting. “Hey, Peggy.”
She breaks into a grin that deepens the lines around her mouth and eyes. Peggy has spent a lifetime smiling. “I was hoping I’d find you.”
“You know I can’t stay away from you too long,” I tease, holding out my hand to help her aboard.
The stubborn woman scoffs and bats my hand away. “More like you can’t stay away from Gail.”
“You’re synonymous. Classic beauties built to weather any storm.”
The other sailors know we have a special bond, and they peel away while she and I retreat into the salon.
The roomy interior includes a galley, and I offer to brew her favorite cup of tea. Hell, I’m normally not a tea person, but she is, and I join her. Only now do I realize how cold and damp it’s gotten. When she sees me add a splash of bourbon in my brew, she motions for me to do the same to hers.
