Worth Waiting For (4 page)

“Brock.”

Obviously not quick enough
….

It was Kate standing
at the top step, looking down at him.

He pretended to be checking
out the photos on the wall and tried his best to forget that less than a minute
ago he’d witnessed her heart breaking.

“I have the sheets
for you.” She walked toward him carrying blue checkered sheets over her
forearm.

When she arrived on
the bottom step he glanced up into her eyes. She’d done a fair job at wiping
away the tears, except for the smudged mascara.

Brock couldn’t help
himself. He reached up and gently wiped away as much as he could so she didn’t
get embarrassed when she peeked in the mirror. She probably knew he’d been
spying on her, so why try and hide it? “You feeling better?” he asked.

She nodded.

“You want to talk
about it?”

She shook her head.

Fair enough. They
were strangers. He took the sheets from her. “I’m here if you do. And thanks
for these. I’ll get them back to you as soon as I can.”

“No rush, and be sure
to secure that boat. Don’t want to have to rescue you in the middle of the
night.”

He nodded and turned.
That wouldn’t be so bad.

Chapter Three

Kate closed and
secured her bedroom window before she turned in for the night. She probably
wouldn’t get much sleep. The branches from the tree outside scraped along the
glass, making her cringe. She’d hated storms since she was a little kid. She’d
always run into her parents’ bed at the first clap of thunder.

This would be the
first time she’d been completely alone during a storm this intense. For the
last three years she’d had David to snuggle up to whenever lightning flashed
across the window and illuminated the room.

Kate headed into the
bathroom and flicked on the lights. She was on her own now and had to get used
to it. Lots of women did and coped well, so why couldn’t she?

Thunder rumbled
overhead, but she tried her best to ignore it. She reached into the cupboard
for her bottle of eye makeup remover and began to take off her mascara, but most
of it was already cried off and what was left was halfway down her cheeks.

How embarrassing. And
judging by Brock’s comments after she’d handed him the sheets, he’d heard her.
She’d tried not to, but when she’d gone looking for the spare sheets, she’d
caught sight of the tablecloth sitting on the top shelf in the linen closet. It
had been hers and David’s first official wedding gift.

Seeing it had made
her realize that it was over between them. He’d chosen another woman. Kate
hadn’t cried much since he’d first walked out, so it wasn’t surprising it was
all bottled up and ready to come out. The tablecloth had just been the
instigator.

Brock was very
tactful; she’d give him credit for that. He’d also been sweet, asking her if
she wanted to talk about it. She appreciated him not saying anything about her
moment of weakness but instead trying to rid her face of the ugly black streaks
so she wouldn’t be embarrassed.

Kate stroked the
cheek Brock had touched. Despite her sorrow it had felt good, comforting
almost. His fingers were soft, making her doubt he did anything like manual labor
for a living.

A flash of lightning
streaked across the room and then a clap of thunder rattled the jars on the
shelf in the medicine cabinet. Next thing, the lights went out.

Flashlight, where did I put that flashlight?
Kate felt her way out of the bathroom and over to her bedside
table, stubbing her foot on the bottom of the bed in the process. She hobbled
and then reached into the drawer and found the light. She flicked it on. At
least she’d remembered to charge it.

She made her way to
the window and glanced out. Looked like all the lights around the harbor were
out too. She looked across the street to the boats and saw Jimmy’s—well,
Brock’s boat—being thrown up and down like a child’s toy in a bathtub.

Hope he took my
advice about securing that thing. Hope Jimmy fixed that leak.
Yeah, I probably should have mentioned that
to Brock.

***

Brock never liked the
rides at amusement parks that continually tossed you around. Call him a party
pooper or whatever, but he didn’t see the pleasure in paying for something you
derived no pleasure from. You were either into thrill rides or you weren’t.
There was no middle ground. He hated them with a vengeance, and it felt like he
was on one of those damn things right now as his boat tossed about on the
choppy water.
Wish someone had asked my
permission first.

His stomach flipped.
The fisherman’s stew probably hadn’t been the best choice of meals tonight.
Brock rushed to the sink and heaved. He’d never been on a boat in a storm
before and after tonight he hoped he never would again. He threw up once more
and felt a little woozy, too, as his surroundings began to spin. Maybe he
should take a bucket and go lie on the bed and try to sleep through the storm.

The boat bounced as
he got halfway to the bed, throwing him downward. At least he’d had the good
sense to throw on the sheets as soon as he’d got back from Kate’s restaurant.

He stripped off his
clothing and crawled under the top sheet, resting his head on the pillow. He
could smell her, well not exactly her, but at least her scent on the sheets. They’d
probably rubbed up against her skin when she’d carried them to him. Yeah,
pretty good, even if his stomach felt like hell.

He lifted the edge up
and held it to his nose. The rain fell harder and sounded like flatware being
thrown on top of the boat. He glanced out of the window. The restaurant sign
was switched off…in
fact,
all the lights had been
darkened.

Shit, quite a
welcoming storm for a first-time sailor. The boat bobbed up and down again. His
stomach mimicked the movement. The whole place was spinning. Or maybe he was.

Brock turned onto his
side, hoping that would help the sudden vertigo. It didn’t. He glanced at the
floor as a flash of lightning illuminated his living quarters.

Fuck…the boat was
leaking.

***

Kate couldn’t sleep.
She’d tried but had finally given up. She’d moved on to the next thing on her
list to try: reading by flashlight. She’d also given up on that.

Out of desperation,
she got out of bed and walked to the window. Brock’s boat was still there but
the way the waves were tossing it around, well, she wouldn’t want to be on
board.

Jeez, the poor guy. Maybe
she should be a good neighbor and go and invite him to wait out the storm at
her place. After all, she had a spare room with a bed already made up.

She bit her fingernail.
Would that be a good idea? Sure, she was just being neighborly like she had
been when she’d lent him the sheets.

Without giving it any
more thought, she went downstairs, pulled on her raincoat, secured the hood,
slipped her feet into her Crocs, and made her way out and across the street. A
blast of wind nearly took the hood from her head, so she held it tight to her
scalp. She stood by the side of his boat, getting splashed as water hit the pier’s
concrete edge.

“Brock,” she called,
hoping he could hear her above the wind and thunder.

No response. She
lifted her flashlight and shined it onto the boat. Through the window she could
see Brock leaning over the edge of his mattress, holding his stomach.

It took two attempts
for her to get onto the deck as the wind whipped water into her face. She
slipped and slid as she made her way to the stairs leading down to the living
quarters. “Brock,
it’s
Kate. Are you okay in there?”

He responded with a
groan.

She stepped inside
and shined the flashlight against the wall so she could see his face. She’d
never seen anyone actually have a greenish tint before. Could you be seasick
while your boat was still anchored to the shore?

He moaned again.

“Hey, you okay?” She
rushed over to him and sat on the bed.

“I feel like hell and
my boat’s leaking.”

“Yeah, Jimmy was
never good with maintenance.” What sort of neighbor would she be if she didn’t
offer to help him? “How about I take you over to my place and you can stay in
the spare bed and sleep this off?”

“You don’t know how
good that sounds.”

“You need some help
getting up?”

“Sure, could put your
arm around my shoulder until I can stand steady, because I have the worst case
of vertigo.”

Kate reminded herself
she was only being a good person as she slipped her arm around his shoulder. He
was well built, that was for sure. Each muscle pushed against her forearm as
she took some of the weight of his six-foot-plus frame.

Lightning flashed
across his bed, and Kate noticed the sheet clinging tightly to his crotch as
she tried to pull him up into a sitting position. “Are you wearing anything?”
she asked.

“No, I always sleep
in the nude. You got a problem with that?”

She didn’t in general
but when he got out from under those sheets…. “Maybe you should slip on your
underwear before I lift you out.”

“You were married,
right, so you’ve seen a naked guy before. Or did your ex cover himself all the
time?”

“No, but he was my
husband, you’re my neighbor and—”

“I can’t see your
face, but I’m guessing you’ve turned red.”

“I haven’t.”
He’s right. I think I have. My cheeks are
burning again. Good thing the lights are out.

“Just help me up and
I promise I’ll pull on my boxers, okay?”

He rested against
Kate, and she took some of his weight again as he slid his legs over the side
of the bed and stood. He was shaking, so she leaned her body into his to steady
him. As she’d suspected, the sheet slipped to the floor but she did her best
not to look. However, that was impossible because he was gorgeous and yeah, she
was a woman, so what else was she to do but look and admire…fantasize, even.

 
As he reached for his shorts another flash of lightning
illuminated the boat and it was like a camera’s flash going off right across
the lower part of his body. Again, she tried not to look, but it was so
tempting.
 

“Kate.”

She’d been
daydreaming and his shorts were now safely covering that fantastic view.

“Can you hang onto me
while I get my legs into my jeans?”

“Sure.” She wrapped
her arm around his upper body just as a huge swell hit the boat and sent it up
into the air. As a result, they both tumbled onto the bed. Brock fell backward,
and she followed, landing directly on top of him.

Was he running a
fever? Because his body was red hot. She was in no hurry to get off of him, which
shocked her.

He obviously enjoyed
it, too, because he had both his arms around her, preventing her from moving an
inch.

Kate hadn’t put on
jeans or sweats when she’d made her way over to Brock’s place. She never slept
in panties. Her pussy was producing a significant amount of moisture, making
the top of her upper thighs wet and sticky.
What
a turn-on and who would have believed rescuing a guy from a boat could get me
this worked up?

“Shall we try this
one more time?”

His voice jarred her
out of her fantasy of the two of them doing the wild thing on this bed.

“Sure,
let’s.”
Kate eased herself up and off of Brock’s
body. She offered him her hand, which he took and managed to lift
himself
up. They made their way up onto the deck. Sheets of
water lashed in every direction as Kate helped Brock over the side of the hull and
onto the level pier.

He took a deep
breath. “I’m feeling better already.”

“Come on. Let’s get
back to the restaurant before we get drenched.”

They crossed the
cobbled path, and Kate pushed the door open, letting Brock go ahead of her. She
took off her raincoat and shook the water from it before hanging it up on the
peg by the door. Yeah, she was in her nightwear but at least the lights weren’t
on so he wouldn’t see through the flimsy material. Well, not unless he was
Superman. Next she slipped off her Crocs. “You still feel queasy?” she asked
Brock.

“A
bit, but not as much as I did on the boat.”

“Guess you haven’t
acquired your sea legs yet. How about a ginger ale? That’s pretty good for
nausea.”

“Sounds
good to me.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs?
It’s the first room on the left, and I’ll bring some up to you.”