More Than Anything Page 3

Shelby refilled her cup and poured Charlotte one, too. “Told you.”

  “And here I was thinking . . .” She shrugged as she took the coffee with a nod of thanks. “Well, at least they’re pretty. And that was very nice of him.”

  They were quite lovely, and they filled the office with a beautiful fragrance. While she was still grumpy about the whole thing, it was a very nice gesture. And they certainly brightened the place up. Of course, the place was pretty dreary to begin with, so every little bit helped. She leaned in to sniff one of the irises. Her favorite. “Yeah.”

  Charlotte perked up. “Any chance they could be . . .” She trailed off as Shelby shook her head.

  “He’s not flirting, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do. We spent a tense hour together after I’d been pulled out of a sound sleep. It wasn’t fun.”

  “Oh.” Charlotte knew how grumpy Shelby could be.

  It wasn’t like they’d really talked or anything, and Shelby wasn’t the kind of woman men sent flowers to for no reason. Charlotte was, though. Boys had started sending her flowers in middle school. Lannie’s flower shop had probably made a fortune off her sister’s good looks alone. But Charlotte was so much more than just a pretty face, so it was hard to begrudge her the attention.

  “But don’t just assume that,” Charlotte began, then caught herself. “Or do we not want this guy to flirt with you?”

  “Probably not. A guy who is living—temporarily, I might add—on a boat that doesn’t even belong to him?”

  “Oh, good Lord.” Charlotte shook her head. “How old?”

  She shrugged. “Early thirties, maybe. He’s rockin’ the yeti look, so it’s hard to tell.”

  Shelby waited while Charlotte filled in the rest of the blanks. She, too, knew the possibilities. “Recently divorced or just ‘finding himself’?”

  “I didn’t ask. All I wanted to do was get him back to shore before he got himself hurt.” At Charlotte’s look, she told her the full story.

  Charlotte nearly choked on her coffee. “That might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Who lives on a boat when they don’t know how to drive it?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s not safe. Is it even legal?”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking about that. He doesn’t need a license just to be on a boat, so if it never leaves the dock . . .” She leaned against the desk and sighed. “It’s stupid, but I’m not sure it’s illegal.”

  “Can he at least swim?”

  Shelby laughed. “Let’s hope so.”

  “Well, tie him up tight and maybe add a padlock so he doesn’t get loose again. Can you sabotage the engine so if he does decide to give it a try, he can’t get it started and get himself lost at sea?”

  She shook her head and laughed. “That’s only asking for disaster if he does go floating again. But I don’t think he’s silly enough to try that anyway.”

  “Oh?”

  “He seemed so reasonable about the whole thing, you know. I think he’s honestly just staying there.”

  “Then why a boat? Why not rent a house or a room or something? That would make a lot more sense if he’s not going out on it.”

  “It’s cheaper for one thing.”

  Charlotte peeked out the window at the Lady Jane. “Not when you add in the cost of renting that boat, too.”

  True. Declan had paid the slip rental, but she didn’t know the financial agreement with the Farley family. “People are just weird, I guess.”

  Charlotte laughed. “And they all come to Magnolia Beach.”

  “Only the ones who can’t afford to go someplace else. We’re just the poor man’s Caribbean.”

  “That should be the next Magnolia Beach tourism campaign slogan.”

  It was Shelby’s turn to laugh. “I’ll mention it to Ryan.”

  “I’m sure that will go over well. And unless you have something else to entertain me with, I’m off to work.” Charlotte worked at the sea lab on Dauphin Island, in their outreach and education department, so her hours were variable and the occasional Saturday was just part of the job.

  Shelby was just getting the coffee cups washed and put away when her father showed up. While he was semiofficially semiretired, he seemed to be having difficulty fully embracing the concept. Or at least that’s what Shelby chose to believe—otherwise she’d have to accept that he didn’t trust her to really run this place on her own. He homed in on the flowers immediately. “Where did these come from?”

  “Good morning to you, too,” she said.

  “’Morning, princess.” He leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Who sent you flowers?”

  Now she wanted to go throw the silly things in the bay. And while a quick explanation of the night before answered his question, the curiosity on his face was rapidly replaced by a frown that furrowed deeper with each word she said. “You shouldn’t have gone out after him by yourself like that,” he scolded.

  “What? Why not?”

  “It’s not safe, honey. What if he’d . . . tried something? Attacked you? You should have called me or one of the boys. Let us handle it.”

  While there were benefits to growing up in a big family, there was a distinct disadvantage to being the only girl—no matter how enlightened they claimed to be. There was a severe estrogen deficiency in the Tanner family, and sometimes it truly sucked to be the only one in her generation without a Y chromosome. And while she could hold her own against any of the Tanner boys in any way they wanted to measure it, that age-old double standard could kick in at the most inopportune and frustrating moments. “I’m a big girl, Daddy. And it’s part of my job.”

  “I shouldn’t have rented him the slip. Not with you living here by yourself . . .”

  Oh good Lord. She needed to shut this down quickly before it wound back around to “It’s not safe for a young woman to be living out here alone,” and eventually, “You should move back home.”

  “I took my mace with me, and he’d be fish food right now if he’d tried anything off base.” The first part was a lie—which her father would never know—but the second part was the truth—and Daddy knew that perfectly well. He’d taught her how to defend herself and let her practice on Jamie and her cousins. “Instead, he sent flowers as a thank-you. I think that was very nice of him. And I know you’ve met him. Did he really seem like the mad rapist type to you?”

  That was a rather low blow, and Shelby knew it, as Daddy would either have to admit he wasn’t a good judge of character—which was something Michael Tanner prided himself on—or else admit he’d let a sketchy male live-aboard into his marina with his daughter sleeping just yards away.

  The frown told her that he knew exactly what she was doing. “No, I guess not, but for both safety and liability issues, you’re not to do something like that again. After all, if you’d run into trouble out there, who would have known to come look for you? Or Mr. Hyde for that matter,” he added as an afterthought.

  That was exactly why radios and cell phones had been invented, but Shelby kept that statement behind her teeth and graciously accepted her victory.

  There was more muttering from her father, and later Shelby saw him not surreptitiously checking the locks on the doors as if Declan were going to try to sneak in one night while she was asleep.

  But he didn’t mention it again, so that was good. She’d take what she could get.

  And it wasn’t like Declan could really be that much trouble.

  * * *

  While there was a shower on the Lady Jane, Declan preferred to use the marina facilities, mainly because the water was hotter and the pressure more reliable. Plus the space was bigger, keeping him from banging his elbows against the walls every time he moved.

  The marina’s bathhouse wasn’t anything fancy, just a sq
uat cinderblock building that looked like it could turn into a humid oven on hot days, but it was clean, and since the marina itself wasn’t very busy, it was always available and practically private. It wasn’t as stylish as the facilities on the Lady Jane, but then, there was nothing fancy about anything at the Bay Breeze Marina. The best adjective he could come up with was “serviceable.” Things were tidy and in good repair, but they lacked any kind of style.

  He hadn’t spent much time in the town, but what he had seen of it was a little eclectic, a mix of old and slightly less old, with brick and clapboard buildings lining clean streets, giving it a charm that was attractive to tourists who wanted that small, Southern town “feel.”

  But the marina was a hodgepodge of cinderblock and corrugated metal structures, built to be functional and service the boating and fishing populace, who probably didn’t need or want it to be anything more.

  It was a pity, though. That was a lot of wasted potential for such a prime location. But maybe that was what marinas were supposed to look like. His experience was limited to what he’d seen on TV and the one on Lake Michigan that Suzanne’s father used to host company parties. That one was huge, with a Michelin-starred restaurant and multimillion-dollar boats docked in its slips. Maybe the average purely functional marina did look more like the Bay Breeze.

  After watching the sunrise, he’d read for a while and taken a nap, and though it was getting late in the afternoon, he felt like it was early morning. His body clock was totally out of whack—a side effect of such an unanchored schedule.

  He ran the towel over his face and hair. He needed both a haircut and a shave, but couldn’t be bothered to do either. It was a small act of rebellion, too, against Suzanne, who hated facial hair of any sort. Now, he looked like a hippie, and he hadn’t put on a tie in weeks. He wasn’t even sure he’d brought one to Magnolia Beach.

  It was quite freeing.

  Clean and human-feeling, he turned off the lights in the bathhouse and headed back to the Lady Jane.

  He found Shelby on the docks.

  “I was just coming to finish that fix,” she explained with a sunny smile. “Is now a good time?”

  He hadn’t gotten a good look at Shelby last night, due to the situation and the darkness. She wasn’t quite as young as he’d first assumed, but she wasn’t much older, either, maybe in her late twenties, with open features and wide green eyes above high cheekbones dotted with freckles. A long blond braid hung loosely over one shoulder, but wisps had escaped to float around her face in the breeze. In shorts, a T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, and hiking sandals, she had the uneven tan lines of someone who spent most of her time outdoors and didn’t always wear sunscreen. She wasn’t overly tall—maybe just to his shoulders—but her legs and arms were muscular and solid. Shelby was the textbook example of a wholesome, all-American tomboy girl-next-door. In fact, if not for the toolbox she carried, Shelby would not look out of place at a gathering of summer camp counselors. It was cute. Maybe more than cute.

  “Now is fine.”

  Shelby hopped aboard with an ease he had not yet mastered, making him feel clumsy in comparison. “I wanted to apologize for being so grumpy with you before. I’m a bear when I wake up.”

  “It’s no more than I deserved.”

  “And thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Can I offer you a piece of advice, though?” At his nod, Shelby’s mouth twitched. “I’m guessing you’re not from a small town, where everything is everyone’s business, but for future reference, messages like ‘Thanks for last night’ on a bouquet from a man to a woman raises all kinds of speculation.”

  Shelby looked more amused than angry, so whatever speculation he’d unwittingly caused didn’t seem to be too much trouble for her. “Noted. My apologies.”

  She shrugged. “No harm done. But you should know that this town runs on gossip and sweet tea. This won’t take me long”—she indicated the stuff in her hand—“and it’s not noisy, so it shouldn’t disturb you. If you want me to, I can send a bill directly to the owner.” She jumped from topic to topic without even a pause, but it wasn’t jarring. The change from last night’s terseness was jarring, though. But at least she wasn’t holding a grudge, and for that he was grateful.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  With a nod, she went to work. He left the cabin door open and piddled around aimlessly, unsure of what to do and why he was so undecided about it. Once again, he was sitting idle while Shelby worked. He certainly wasn’t going to go watch Shelby fix whatever it was, but it felt weird to surf the Internet while she was being so industrious.

  He wasn’t a messy person, and the seeming chaos of papers and books was actually quite organized into piles of things he was reading for work and things he was reading for fun, but he tidied up a few things here and there, tossing his shower kit and dirty clothes into the bedroom and closing the door.

  Seemingly mere minutes later, Shelby was already knocking on the door. “I’m done.”

  “That was fast.”

  “That was easy.” She grinned. “Which also means it was cheap.”

  He waved her the rest of the way in. “I don’t have much cash on me . . .”

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it right now. We’ll get you an invoice in a day or two.”

  Gotta love a small town.

  “I mean,” she continued with a smile, easily walking the line between businesslike and friendly, “it’s not like you’re going to take off on the Lady Jane or anything. And even if you did, the rent on the slip you’d forfeit far exceeds the cost of this repair.”

  “Very true.” But Shelby didn’t leave on that note. Instead, she looked around, fingers drumming against her thigh like she wanted to say something. “Shelby?” he finally asked. “Is something wrong?”

  She took a deep breath. “Can you swim?”

  The question came from out of nowhere, catching him by surprise. “Of course I can swim. Why—”

  “That’s a relief. But do you know where your emergency beacons are? How they work? Do you know how to use the radio? How to contact the Coast Guard?”

  So that was the problem. “Shelby . . .”

  “I know it seems a little crazy of me, but I just don’t think it’s safe for you to be on a boat and not know . . .”

  That made him laugh. “You’re a regular Suzie Safety, aren’t you?”

  Shelby stilled at his words, then one eyebrow arched up. “And proud of it,” she said dryly. “Better to be a Suzie Safety than a dead idiot. And I certainly don’t want to leave my family or the marina open to a lawsuit if something happens to you or this boat.”

  “I’ll sign a waiver that releases you and the marina from all liability.”

  She frowned at his statement, then shook her head. “That’s all well and good, but for your own and others’ safety, I’m afraid I have to insist that you show familiarity with the emergency equipment on this boat and basic competency in operating it. That is,” she said primly, “presuming you wish to continue your residency here at Bay Breeze.”

  He had to give her props. She wasn’t cowed at all and, in fact, had seemed to grow taller during her lecture. She might look like a camp counselor, but she was obviously not one to be fooled with. That competence he’d noted earlier extended beyond just nautical skill. The more she talked, the more interesting she got.

  And she had a point he couldn’t really argue with. Well, he could, but it was a good point and he wasn’t that big of an ass. Plus, it was her marina, so she did have the right to lay down the rules. More importantly, he could tell he’d ticked her off, and he didn’t want her angry at him. He had almost three more months here, and there was something about Shelby that warned him that he would regret trying to thwart her.

  “Fair enough.”


  Her surprise was nearly comical, and he had to bite back a smile. Shelby’s stance relaxed, and her attitude thawed immediately. “Oh. Okay, then.” The little smile came back. “That was easier than I expected.”

  “You wanted me to fight you about it?”

  “Of course not. I’m just not used to men who give in that easily.”

  He couldn’t tell if the insult was intentional or not. “Well, while your argument is very sound, the fact of the matter is that I probably should learn more about boats. When I leave here, I’m moving to Miami.”

  “Illinois to Miami? That’s a big change.” His surprise at her knowing that must have shown on his face, because she quickly explained, “Your car has Illinois tags. So why not just go to Miami? Why stop off here?”

  Because it’s amazing what sounds like a good idea after half a bottle of tequila. “I have no job or apartment to go to in Miami until after the new year. And this was easier than trying to find a short-term lease in Miami and move all my stuff twice.”

  Her eyebrows pulled together. “And you couldn’t just stay in Illinois until January?”

  Ah, yes, small-town nosiness. “Well, it’s a long story.”

  She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Finally, Shelby nodded. “And it’s probably cheaper to live here anyway, if you’re out of work and don’t have any family to stay with.”

  It was a clever way to fish for information, but he wasn’t taking the bait. “Don’t worry about my employment status. My rent is paid up, as you know, and I’m not going to starve out here.”

  Shelby held her hands up. “Not my business. This is as good a place as any to take a break, find yourself, write your great American novel . . .”

  She said it with such distaste, Declan got the feeling she’d dealt with her fair share of wannabe hippies and Hemingways. “God, no. I’m not a writer.”

  Her relief was both obvious and amusing. “Oh, good, because then good manners would insist that I ask you about your book, and I really didn’t want to feign interest.”

  That made him laugh. “At least you’re honest.” That statement got him a grin in return.