Summer on the Cape by J.M. Bronston Read Free Book Online Page A

cell phone, a teakettle, pieces of rope. Stacked carelessly on the cushioned seats and on the table between the seats were cans of motor oil and plastic containers of nails, together with marine charts and pieces of hardware that Allie couldn’t identify. A pair of high-power binoculars lay on the table next to a logbook, and an electronic navigational keyboard was half covered by Coast Guard notices.
    Zach looked completely comfortable in the midst of the clutter. He set the kettle onto the alcohol stove, turned on the flame, and took mugs and instant coffee from the cabinets behind the small galley sink. Every move he made was smoothly efficient and Allie found that she was making mental notes of the way Zach’s muscles moved for the portrait of him she knew she was going to paint.
    “I hope you like your coffee black,” Zach said. “When Sea Smoke isn’t cruising, I don’t keep ice on her, so there’s no milk.”
    “Black is just fine.” Despite the casualness of their conversation, Allie was sharply aware of Zach’s physical presence, made more intense by the intimacy of the cabin interior’s close space. From where she stood, leaning against the steps, she could see past the galley into the sleeping cabin forward, comfortable and snug, cushioned all around, with beds built onto a kind of low platform.
    “Do you travel much on Sea Smoke ?” Allie asked, trying to find a safe subject, one that wouldn’t reflect the disturbing sensations that were stirring in her.
    To her surprise, he didn’t answer her immediately, and his face clouded over, his blue eyes darkening momentarily under his craggy brow. Allie was puzzled by his response to a question that seemed innocent enough.
    Finally, he spoke. “No. Not much.” Then he paused, seeming to have said all he was going to for the moment. “I run a boat rental business here, and there’s a lot needs to be done. Doesn’t leave much time for gadding about,” he said shortly.
    Allie wondered what had shadowed that handsome face, but she sensed that he wasn’t likely to tell her, and that he wouldn’t want her to ask. Maybe someday, if they got to know each other better—
    For now, best to change the subject.
    “May I look around?” she asked. Her professional eye had already made a close inventory of the details, filing them away in her mental sketchbook.
    “Sure,” Zach said. “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”
    He motioned her into the forward cabin, where the cushioned platform formed a deep vee-shaped sleeping space. Portholes let in the sunlight and a teak door could be closed to shut off this compartment from the main cabin behind it.
    She stepped into the sleeping cabin and was instantly touched by its comfortable atmosphere.
    How sweet it would be to wake up one morning, far out at sea, snug inside this sheltered place.
    “It’s almost like a nest,” she said softly, turning to Zach.
    He was standing just behind her, inside the forward cabin.
    “Yes. It is like a nest,” he said. “Completely separated from the rest of the world. Very private,” he paused, and then added, “and safe.”
    He was looking into her eyes, and she became aware of the sunlight, filtering through the portholes and glinting through his dark hair, lighting up the graying strands and turning them silver. She was acutely conscious of his closeness, as though she were being gathered up by a powerful, masculine energy. Feeling surrounded, engulfed, she sank down into the center of the vee formed by the cushions. Zach braced both his hands against the sides of the cabin roof over her head, and his tall, muscular body leaned over her. He was so close, she could smell his newly washed shirt, the masculine scent of his skin.
    She was unable to say a word. Her face was turned up to his, and she could feel her breathing, deep and slow, as she was held, transfixed, completely controlled by his intense blue eyes. He made no move to touch her, but the entire surface of