More Than Anything Read online

  While there was no doubt Shelby had left the book for him—her name was printed on the inside cover in block letters—there had been no note accompanying it. With nothing else to do last night, he’d read it, assuming Shelby expected him to, but it had been as frightfully dull as the cover promised.

  That didn’t exactly bode well for today’s lesson, but he wasn’t dreading it either. It was a pretty day, and it wasn’t like he had other pressing plans. And it didn’t hurt that his instructor was the funny, interesting, and lovely Shelby Tanner.

  He didn’t have to wait around, alone in a redneck town with nothing to do and no one to do it with. He needed to make the most of the situation, learn to adapt, and bloom where he was planted—even if he was just killing time.

  It beat the hell out of the alternative.

  Chapter 5

  Shelby was prompt, arriving one minute early for his lesson in what he was beginning to think was her uniform of shorts and T-shirt. “You ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Try not to sound so excited,” she said as she climbed aboard and dropped a backpack onto one of the seats. “It’ll be painless, I promise. It might even be fun.”

  “Am I going to be tested on this?” he asked, handing her back the book as she got settled.

  “Did you read it?”

  “Yes.”

  Shelby grinned and slid the book inside her bag. “Then no.”

  “Then why did I read it?”

  She shrugged. “I just wanted to offer you a head start since you don’t know all that much. I didn’t want you to feel stupid or get overwhelmed.”

  While that was kind of her . . . “So you’d have tested me on it if I’d said no?”

  “How? I’m not a licensing official of the state of Alabama. I can’t ‘test’ you on anything. But it does make this easier—if nothing else, I know you won’t be a pain in the butt about learning.”

  “Will I be ready to take the boating license test when we’re done?”

  “God, no,” she scoffed. “I’m just hoping you won’t drown. Or wake me up again,” she added with a smile.

  “I’m glad to know you have such low expectations.”

  “I’m just being realistic. Basics first.”

  In reality, safety was first, as she showed him where life jackets and beacons and radios were stored and how they worked. It was a full hour before Shelby even untied the boat from the dock. Actually driving the boat wasn’t completely unlike driving a car, only it handled much differently, and it wasn’t long before he was feeling pretty proud of his ability. He wasn’t ready to captain anything, but in the highly unlikely chance that he found himself accidentally floating away or in some other kind of emergency, he now had a clue of what to do.

  Interestingly, though, that was pretty much what he was doing now—floating outside the entrance into Mobile Bay. He could still see land if he looked behind him, but the Gulf of Mexico stretched out in front of him all the way to the horizon. He shut off the engine and turned to Shelby with a grin. “That was easy.”

  “You did well.” She sat back and turned her face to the sun, stretching her legs out along the cushioned seat. She rolled her shirtsleeves up to the shoulders and stacked her hands behind her head as she basked. She had nice arms and great legs, toned and strong, and he didn’t mind the view at all. The sporty tomboy look was really growing on him. “But don’t get too cocky about your newfound skills. You’re nowhere near ready to strike out on your own,” she cautioned.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. But I won’t have to wake you up again. I promise.”

  “That’s excellent. The Lady Jane is really user-friendly—even for newbies. It’s got all the latest tech, especially designed to keep or get you out of trouble.”

  “It?”

  Her eyebrows pulled together over the frames of her sunglasses. “Huh?”

  “You called the Lady Jane an ‘it.’ I thought boats were always ‘she.’”

  Shelby made a face. “Don’t be silly. It’s an inanimate object. It doesn’t have a gender.”

  What little knowledge he thought he had about boats was being shot down quickly. “I thought it was tradition or something.”

  “It’s an antiquated idea as well as completely sexist. And ridiculous.”

  He laughed. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel.”

  She fake-smiled at him. “You really don’t mean that.”

  “All right, then.” It seemed Shelby had some strong opinions to go with those strong legs, and she had no problem speaking those opinions. He liked that. His earlier conversation with Suzanne made him far more appreciative of Shelby’s honest, straightforward style. He waited for her to say something else, but she just sat there basking in the autumn sun—which was rather nice, but a bit anticlimactic. After a few minutes of quiet nothing, he finally asked, “So now what do we do?”

  “If you had any gear on board, we could fish, but . . .”

  There might be gear on board—somewhere. The Lady Jane was, after all, a fishing boat, and there were all kinds of hidey-holes he hadn’t bothered to inspect. “You like to fish?”

  “Yes, I do. I take it you don’t?”

  “I don’t really like to see my food when it’s still alive.”

  She smirked. “Fair enough. Then I guess we’ll just do this for a little while.”

  “This?”

  She sighed. “Have you never even been on a boat before?”

  “Of course I have.” Granted, they were party cruises on the lake, but . . .

  “Well, this is kinda what you do on a boat. You relax. You enjoy the sound of the water and the feel of the breeze and the warmth of the sun . . . It’s supposed to be peaceful. Very Zen. So just close your eyes and breathe.”

  Suzanne had also been very into finding her Zen, but as far as he could tell, that involved yoga classes and guided meditations with the improbably named Guru Scott. “You’re not going to chant, are you?”

  “No.” A small smile on her face, she exhaled deeply. He couldn’t tell if her eyes were closed or not behind her sunglasses, but he assumed they were. “Now just breathe for a minute.”

  He felt weird doing it, but he tried. It was a nice day, and he tried to concentrate on that as they sat quietly for a few minutes. Then he realized they were still moving. “Shouldn’t we drop anchor?”

  She sighed and he heard the exasperation. “Nah. It’s too deep.” He must have made a sound, because Shelby looked at him over her sunglasses. “Are you worried we’re going to hit something?”

  He could see a few other boats, but none close enough to be considered a danger at the moment. “I guess not. But we are drifting.”

  “We won’t go far. I promise.”

  “I guess I’ll have to trust you. Officer Rusty says that no one knows the waters around here better than you.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched. “That’s very kind of him to say so.”

  He couldn’t help noticing she didn’t argue with the truth of the statement. He liked people who were sure of their skills and didn’t claim false modesty when it was unwarranted. “I’m not sure I’d call him ‘kind.’ I mean, he scared the hell out of those kids and then tried to scare me, too.”

  “Well, the kids deserved it—and needed it, probably—but how on earth did Rusty scare you?”

  “I said he tried. There was a little grilling on why I was here.”

  “You can’t really blame him for that. It is a little odd.”

  “I’m not the only person to ever winter in Magnolia Beach,” he reminded her.

  “But you’re the first snowbird I’ve ever met under the age of seventy.”

  He adjusted his sunglasses and mirrored Shelby’s posture, trying to relax. “And here I thought small towns were supposed to be friendl
y places.”

  “They are. And we are. But because it’s a small town, suspicious behavior stands out more.”

  “How have I been behaving suspiciously?”

  Without looking at him, she held up a finger. “One, you’re a little young to be a snowbird, and they usually come in pairs anyway. Two,”—another finger went up—“you don’t go into town much, so few people have met you, and no one knows anything about you. Three, the Lady Jane isn’t your boat, so you’re not here for the fishing. And four, when Rusty asked me, all I could tell him was that you kept to yourself and didn’t have visitors, but that you’d sometimes leave and be gone all day. If you were a police officer, what would you make of all that?”

  When she put it that way . . . “I guess that does sound a little suspicious.”

  “So what are you doing here?” She sat up. “Honestly.”

  “Did Rusty ask you to find out?”

  “No, but I am curious.”

  “I told you. This is my first vacation in years. I’m vacationing.”

  “I thought you said you were unemployed.”

  “Between jobs,” he corrected.

  She waved a hand. “Same difference.”

  “Not really.” He might not be able to see Shelby’s eyes behind her sunglasses, but he could practically hear them roll. He sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  She smirked and tucked her legs underneath her, tailor-style. “I’ve got some time.”

  “And it’s not terribly interesting.”

  “I live in a very small town. I think you’d be surprised at what I can find interesting.” She crossed her arms over her chest, an expectant look on her face, and waited.

  He could just wait her out, but he had a feeling he’d lose this standoff. “A guy I know from college recommended me to a guy he knows in Miami who will have an opening at his office in January. I interviewed and they offered me the job—and it’s a great one with more money, better position—and I accepted. But when my current employer found out I was planning to leave . . .”

  “They fired you.” She seemed to be considering something. “Okay, while technically still unemployment, I’ll give you ‘between jobs.’”

  “How kind of you.”

  “I try. But that wasn’t a very long story at all.”

  “Nor very interesting. I warned you.”

  “But still . . . why not stay in Chicago then? Why come here?”

  “Aside from all the snow in Chicago?”

  “Well, you won’t see that here, but I’d think even the prospect of snow wouldn’t be worse than being all alone in a town where you don’t know anyone.”

  He hesitated, even though he had no idea why. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  There was another of those moments when Shelby seemed to be considering what he’d said, and those moments were making him increasingly uncomfortable, as she seemed able to fill in all the things he didn’t say, too. Her mouth twitched into an almost-smile. “Ah, there’s a woman back in Chicago.”

  There was no sense denying it. He just shrugged.

  “Why’d she break up with you?”

  Why’d she automatically assume Suzanne had broken up with him? She was right, but . . . Jeez. He was starting to rethink his earlier admiration of her straightforward style. “You have no problem asking people very personal questions, do you?”

  Shelby laughed. “None at all. There are no secrets in small towns, and I’m just naturally curious.”

  He had nothing to lose. “When I told her I’d taken the job, she told me she didn’t want to move to Miami.”

  Shelby’s eyes widened. “You accepted a job in Miami and didn’t check with your girlfriend first to see if she was okay with it?” She shook her head sadly. “Men.”

  He was not going to respond to that.

  “Is she an architect, too?”

  “No, Suz is a corporate art curator.”

  “And that is . . .”

  “She buys art for companies as investments. Usually from new and upcoming artists she thinks will hit big and make their early work valuable.”

  “Sounds impressive. And risky. What happens if the art doesn’t appreciate?”

  “She works mostly for her father. She’s got job security, regardless.”

  Shelby looked at him over her sunglasses again. “I’m not one to look down my nose at people who work for their parents.”

  “I’m not judging people for working for their parents. But Suzanne likes to be beautiful among other beautiful things. Her father indulges her on that.”

  “That’s a bit harsh,” Shelby scolded.

  “Suz is kind and sweet and beautiful. She might not have a lot of depth, but that’s not entirely her fault. She is what she is.”

  “Were y’all together a long time?”

  “Nearly six years.”

  Shelby frowned. “Yet you say she’s shallow. That doesn’t speak too highly of you.”

  “Because I say she’s shallow or because I was with her even though she was?”

  Shelby laughed. “Both, actually.”

  “I don’t mean it as an insult. She had many good qualities, and I did care about her.”

  Shelby didn’t look convinced, but she still nodded. “So is that why you hide on the boat all the time? Are you nursing a broken heart?”

  Boy, Shelby had no filter at all. It was a bit disconcerting. “I’m not hiding. I’m vacationing. Catching up on all the TV and books I’ve missed. Sleeping. Studying Florida building codes.”

  “That’s fair enough, but you should really try spending some time in town. Meet new people, stuff like that. It would help you get over her faster.”

  The funny thing was, he was already over Suzanne. That last phone call had proven that. He had no doubt that if he hadn’t accepted the job in Miami, he’d still be with her, but after the initial shock, he’d been fine. He really didn’t miss her beyond the strangeness of being single when he’d been part of a couple for so long. His heart wasn’t broken, which was good, but Shelby was right in that it didn’t say much for what kind of person he was to have been with a woman for that long and now wonder why he’d been with her at all.

  “I could introduce you to some people,” Shelby offered.

  “That’s okay. I’m quite enjoying the alone time.”

  “Aren’t you bored? Or lonely?”

  “I have plenty to keep me occupied, and since I don’t really like people all that much, I’m not lonely, either.”

  Shelby’s eyebrows pulled together. “How can you not like people?”

  He wasn’t sure how to answer that. “‘I have not the talent which some people possess of conversing easily with those I have never seen before.’”

  Shelby looked at him blankly.

  “Pride and Prejudice? Mr. Darcy?”

  “Oh. I’ve never read it. I kind of remember the movie, though.” Shelby didn’t call him a nerd outright, but he assumed it was implied in the tone. “Still, that much alone time isn’t healthy.”

  “And you’re an expert on mental health?”

  She snorted. “I don’t need to be an expert. Humans are social creatures. Solitary confinement has been proven to cause psychosis,” she said primly.

  “I’m good,” he assured her. “No need to worry about me.”

  “Forget you. I’m worried about me. If you snap and go all axe-murdery, I’m your nearest neighbor.”

  The statement was both earnest and ridiculous and it made him laugh. “If you think that’s a possibility, I’m surprised you’re not worried about being out here with me.”

  An eyebrow arched up over her sunglasses. “Are you saying I need to be?”

  Was she flirting? “Maybe.”

  “Well, I can take care of myself.”

&nbs
p; So much for that. “It doesn’t matter as I’ve already been warned to stay away from you by a man wearing a gun.”

  That got her attention. “Excuse me?”

  Her indignation made it almost impossible for him to keep a straight face. “Rusty made a point of telling me about your eight brothers ready to kick my ass.”

  “I cannot believe him.” She shook her head disgustedly and muttered something under her breath, punctuating it with the most exasperated sigh he’d ever heard. Then, resigned, she offered, “And it’s just one brother.”

  He laughed. “So Officer Rusty lied to me about eight Tanner boys guarding your virtue?”

  “No. There are eight Tanner boys. Seven of them are cousins, though. And four are away at school right now anyway.”

  “I like those odds much better.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?”

  “Yeah.” Although until two minutes ago, he hadn’t actually thought about it. Maybe it was the fact Officer Rusty had put Shelby off-limits that suddenly brought her to his attention. She was certainly pretty—very earthy and real. Suzanne had first fascinated him by her cool aloofness and classic beauty. But Shelby now had him rethinking his “type.” And while she was friendly and her voice had a teasing tone to it, it was hard to tell if she was being flirty or not.

  She laughed. “Those odds are still not in your favor.”

  Well, that answered that question. He was a little more disappointed than he expected to be. “Rusty said they were big.”

  “Well, their egos certainly are. At least the older ones,” she amended. “I’m working on making the younger ones a little less . . . well, less Tanner-ish.”

  “Tanner-ish?”

  “Loud-mouthed know-it-alls bordering on insufferable.”

  “Sounds charming.”

  Her sigh was one of the long-oppressed. “And yet everyone still likes them.”

  “Except you.”

  “No, including me,” she admitted. “They irritate the snot out of me, and I want to smack them half the time because they’re all up in my business all the time, but they’re family. You know how that is.”

  She seemed to be waiting for his agreement, but he couldn’t relate. “I’ve got one sister. She’s six years older and lives in Colorado, so we’re not exactly close.”