Текст книги "Reckless"

Автор книги: Nicole Edwards

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Three

Looking up at the clock, Cam shook out his hands, then leaned back in his chair and spun around to stare out the window overlooking the smooth, glassy water that seemed to go on for miles and miles.

Damn, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

He should be out there.

Spinning back around, he glared at his computer screen.

Not in here.

For the past two hours, he’d managed to focus on entering the monthly deposits into the system, comparing them to the rental agreements, and ensuring everyone was paid up for the month. It made his day when he only had to change the gate code for one renter who had yet to pay up. Hopefully, they’d see that person sometime this week and get squared away.

Handling the money and updating the books was a tedious task that he actually enjoyed doing most of the time. However, given the opportunity, he would’ve procrastinated in order to spend time outdoors.

It was what he did best.

Spending time outdoors, not the procrastinating. Although…

Okay, so sure, he wasn’t above looking for something more enjoyable than paperwork.

Thankfully, this side of the company was not his main focus—or even something he was particularly good at—but on the flip side, Cam preferred to keep up to date on the state of the business, and this allowed him to do that. They had an accountant who handled the details, but Cam made a point to update the books every week—okay, every couple of weeks … er … once a month, but who was counting?

The handheld radio sitting on his desk chirped.

“Hey, good buddy,” Dare announced in the crazy radio voice he loved to do, “anyone order up a side of bacon?”

Cam laughed.

“I repeat, we’ve got bacon.”

Cam grabbed the radio and hit the button. “Roger that.”

While he’d worked, Cam had listened to the radios chirp endlessly as Roan, Dare, and Teague bantered back and forth while they’d handled the incoming appointments and prepared the boats for the afternoon. And now, according to Dare’s non-PC announcement, it looked as though Cam’s father had arrived. Dare found it amusing to refer to Cam’s father as bacon because he was a retired police officer. Michael Strickland was a good sport and he took it all in stride. It helped that Dare really did have the utmost respect for the man.

Hearing the delayed door alarm, Cam closed his laptop and looked up as his father appeared in his office doorway looking every bit the sturdy presence he’d always been in Cam’s life.

“Is he still callin’ me bacon?” Michael asked, his grin causing the skin beside his dark blue eyes to crinkle.

“He is,” Cam confirmed. “Good mornin’, Pop.”

“Mornin’,” his father replied, his rough voice reflecting years of smoking. His father’s thick salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, the white bushy mustache over his lip could’ve used a bit of a trim, and yes, he was smiling. He looked good, relaxed.

Leaning back in his chair, Cam studied him. “What brings you by?”

Michael propped himself against the door jamb, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just checkin’ on you boys.”

Cam smiled. At least once a week, sometimes more, his father stopped by to see how Cam, Roan, Dare, and Teague were doing. And not to talk business, either. Although Cam’s father had fronted the money for the marina in the beginning, Cam had since paid him back and assumed full responsibility. So Michael’s visits were always personal in nature, a chance for them to catch up. He would stick around for an hour, sometimes several hours, but he never left until he had a chance to talk to all four of them. Cam figured that was the cop in him. Sort of like a welfare check to ensure everything was kosher.

Not that Cam minded. He enjoyed spending time with his father, and these days, they didn’t do enough of it.

“We’re doin’ good,” Cam told him. “Gonna be busy startin’ next week.”

“Need any help?”

“Not yet, but if it comes to that, I won’t hesitate to call. Why? Are you bored?”

Michael laughed. “Bored? Not a chance. I’ve got a boat and a fishin’ pole. And three grandkids. What more do I need?”

Cam knew his father was playing up the whole retired fisherman routine. Michael had spent forty-five years on the force, every day a new adventure according to him. The fact that he’d retired at sixty-five had surprised everyone, but he’d insisted it was time. Now, not only did Cam’s father visit the marina frequently, he’d been known to man the office, help Holly out with the events, even assist Hudson out in the repair shop. Rarely did he go out on the boat to relax.

“What more do you need?” Cam echoed.

The radio on his desk chirped and Cam reached over to turn it down.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” Michael said, glancing down at the computer on Cam’s desk. “Looks like you’re focused. But maybe we can have lunch one of—”

Before Michael could finish his sentence, a deep voice echoed down the hall, coming from the front counter. “Anyone here?”

Cam frowned. He hadn’t heard anyone come in.

“Coming!” Cam hollered back as he pushed out of his chair. Looking at his father, he smiled. “And yes to lunch. That sounds good.”

“All right then.” His father grinned, clapping Cam on the shoulder. “I’m off. Gonna go find the boys.”

“Give Dare hell.”

“Oh, I plan to,” his father said. “Don’t you worry.”

“See you, Pop,” Cam said as his father led the way back to the front office, then maneuvered past the newcomers on his way out the door.

Cam followed behind, and after offering his father a casual wave, he pulled his attention to the two people standing at the counter. He did a double take after grabbing the appointment book and pulling it toward him.

Well. This was certainly new.

He fought the urge to smile as he watched the well-dressed man and woman peering around as though they’d never seen the inside of a marina office before. Cam wasn’t even sure they’d noticed him as they studied the rules they had posted on the wall.

Through the years, Cam had seen all walks of life come through that door, and these two … they were clearly the corporate types, which made him wonder if they were lost. It wouldn’t surprise him if they were. The way they were dressed, Cam doubted they’d seen much more than an office building in years.

The boyishly handsome man was suited up, sans the jacket, wearing a white dress shirt, buttoned at the wrists, along with a blue silk tie and—Cam peered over the counter—fancy black loafers. He looked kind of … starchy. As well as completely out of his element in the small office.

As for the woman… Cam’s initial assessment leaned more toward rich-girl chic. With her fancy … er … skirt-suit … outfit … or whatever it was called, her swanky though messy up-do, big hoop earrings, and bright red heels, she looked as though she should be in a boardroom, not in a marina office. She was pretty, in a New York law firm type of way. But he had to give her a little credit, she looked slightly more at ease than her partner.

“Can I help you?” Cam asked politely, trying not to think about the T-shirt and board shorts he was wearing. Then again, at least he had his shirt on. Most of the time they spent their days shirtless, because, for one, they were often in the water, and two, it was much easier to endure the ridiculous Texas summer temperatures that way. Even with his sun-faded Pier 70 T-shirt, he suddenly felt incredibly underdressed up next to these two.

The woman elbowed the man, and Cam noticed the guy’s dark eyebrows dart down in confusion before he made eye contact with Cam.

“Gannon Burgess,” he introduced, covering his grunt with a cough. “We’re here to rent a boat.”

Cam couldn’t hide his amusement as he leaned against the counter after opening the rental book. “I’m thinkin’ you’re a little overdressed for the occasion, but to each his own.”

When those dark eyes locked with his, Cam’s body went on high alert. But then … Gannon smiled, and that slight curve of his lips and the dimple that formed in his cheek transformed his boyishly handsome face into something far more intriguing.

The man’s smile was … mesmerizing.

Oh, hell. And now Cam was eye-fucking the suit.

Shit.

Shaking off the thought, he followed with, “What’d you have in mind?”

Gannon’s spellbinding smile faded, replaced by an incredibly puzzled expression. It obviously was his first time at a marina.

Glancing over at the woman, Cam noticed the dazed look there, too.

“Okay, let’s start simple,” Cam said, taking pity on the couple. Twirling his pen between his fingers, he bounced his gaze between them. “How many people? Just the two of you?”

“Oh, God no,” the woman said quickly, her take-charge tone telling him he’d pegged her accurately, though the sweetness of her face, and those bright blue eyes, didn’t seem to match. She glared over at Gannon as though expecting him to do the talking. When he didn’t, she released a heavy sigh. “It’s for a party.”

“A celebration?” Cam inquired, glancing down at the woman’s hand to see if there was an extravagant engagement ring.

Nope. No ring.

Without permission, his eyes strayed to Gannon’s left ring finger. No ring there, either. Huh.

“Not exactly,” Gannon answered thickly. “Just a small get-together. Roughly ten people.”

“Ten gives you plenty of options,” Cam informed them, watching for a reaction. “Pontoon, yacht? Tritoons’ll allow you to pull someone on a tube. What’s the plan?”

Gannon glanced down at the woman, whose name Cam still didn’t know. She simply shrugged her slim shoulders, looking somewhat bewildered. The man’s penetrating gaze, framed by the thin, black rectangular rim of his glasses, came back to meet Cam’s. While he waited for an answer, Cam did his best not to notice how those eyes were the color of espresso.

Deep, dark … devastating.

Shit.

Looking over at the woman, he spotted the slow smile that curved her full, red lips.

Fuck.

Busted.

Glancing down at the rental book as though that might help rein in his wandering thoughts, Cam took a deep breath.

“So, what’ll it be?” the woman asked Gannon.

“Hell if I know,” Gannon answered straightforwardly, making Cam grin as he lifted his head and stared back at Gannon once more. “I take it you’re the expert. Maybe you can help.”

“I can help,” Cam confirmed, pulling his gaze from the intense mocha-brown eyes of the boyishly handsome, dark-haired executive standing before him. Peering down at the rental book, Cam skimmed the pages looking for an available time and date. “What day were you lookin’ to rent?”

“Whatever day you’ve got,” Gannon said. “Weekday, though.”

Cam nodded. “Next week? Week after?”

This time the woman spoke up. “The sooner the better. Morale’s down at the office, and a little relaxing time is just what we need to kick off a busy summer.”

“Not sure how this’ll help morale,” Gannon added with a frown, his gaze lingering on Cam’s face for several long seconds. “But if Milly says it’ll help, I tend to believe her.”

Milly. Good to know.

“You know what they say about all work and no play,” Cam inserted, doing his best not to stare at Gannon.

“No, he doesn’t know,” Milly retorted, laughing. Her voice was husky, her eyes glittering with humor as she stared up at Gannon. “I don’t think anyone ever enlightened him.”

Cam liked her.

As for Gannon … well, there was something about him that piqued Cam’s interest. He was more pretty than rugged and looked fairly young, probably mid-twenties. And if Cam had to guess, the guy likely went to get manicures on a monthly basis. Perhaps pedicures, too.

And yet, for some inexplicable reason, Cam found the man appealing, although he certainly wasn’t Cam’s type.

He much preferred someone a little less … well, pretty.

Not quite so starchy, either.

Gannon’s dark eyes seemed to capture everything, and his full lips didn’t turn into a smile as much as Cam would’ve liked. Definitely all work and no play, evident by his expensive, tailored slacks and fancy navy blue tie.

Hmm. The things Cam could do to him with that tie.

His eyes immediately shot to Milly’s. She was grinning back at him, teeth flashing.

Yep, she’d figured him out.

Crap.

This boat was sinking fast and Cam wasn’t sure he could salvage it at this point.

Boat.

Right.

They were here for a boat. And a boat they would get.

Clearing his throat, Cam pulled his attention back to the task at hand. “All right then. Let’s get it set up.”

So Cam could send them on their way and get a grip.

Four

It was a damn good thing Gannon had opted to leave his suit jacket in the car.

It was getting hot in here.

Even without the jacket, he felt more than a little out of place standing in the small, quaint office of the Pier 70 Marina. Not only was he clearly overdressed for the establishment, he didn’t seem to have quite the amount of machismo required to blend in, either. At least not if he compared himself to the brick wall of a man staring back at him with those thickly muscled arms and beautiful cobalt eyes.

Yep, he was in so much trouble here.

Milly’s comment from earlier echoed in his head.

It’ll be fun. And who knows, maybe there’ll be a couple of hot guys there we can flirt with.

Well, there was definitely one hot guy. The man Gannon couldn’t seem to look away from.

Milly nudged his side again and he forced his gaze down to her.

“Quit flirting,” she whispered.

Horrified, Gannon’s face flamed.

“I’m kidding, big guy. Chill.”

Had he been flirting? It’d been so long since any man had held his interest for longer than a minute, Gannon wasn’t even sure he knew how to flirt at this point. Yes, he’d caught and held the man’s lingering gaze a time or two, making sure he saw Gannon’s interest. At least that was what he’d hoped to portray with the lengthy stare. As rusty as he was with the whole flirting thing, there was no telling what he’d actually looked like.

But the guy hadn’t looked away, which was a good sign, right?

Regardless, Gannon would be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed the hell out of it. Right up to the point Milly had embarrassed the shit out of him. Now, he didn’t want to look at the man.

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, Gannon pretended to be otherwise preoccupied, peeking up from beneath his lashes to see if the man was looking at him.

He wasn’t.

Thank the patron saint of video games.

For the few uncomfortable minutes that he’d been there, Gannon had done nothing except eye the guy while doing his best to hide his instantaneous physical reaction—both from Milly and from the guy now skimming through the pages of what appeared to be an appointment book. And he thought he was doing a relatively decent job, up until he’d detected that knowing gleam in Milly’s bright blue eyes. She’d busted them and she was enjoying the hell out of it. Which meant Gannon would probably die of embarrassment very, very soon.

Until that happened, Gannon needed to remember why he was there.

Rent a boat.

Yes.

So he could take his team out on the water—which he still hated, hot guy or not—and, according to Milly, boost morale. With a highly anticipated new video game scheduled to launch in less than three months, there was a lot that had to be done for them to be ready, so yeah, he understood her logic.

First part was out of the way. They were here. And they were ready to rent a boat.

Only Gannon couldn’t focus.

He couldn’t seem to stop ogling the thickly muscled, bronze-skinned guy with masculine hands and beautiful, intricate tattoos covering most of his forearms who was helping them. There was just something about him that Gannon couldn’t ignore. Something that called to a very primal part of him that he’d kept under wraps for far too long.

Perhaps it was the man’s rugged good looks with his firm, clean-shaven jaw, narrow nose, high cheekbones, and full lips. Or possibly it was his tousled dark hair or those pretty blue eyes and that smile… Fuck. That quick, easy smile that flirted with the corners of his eyes every so often made Gannon want to stand there all damn day.

Not that he’d noticed him. Much.

It wasn’t professional for him to have such a visceral, primitive response to a man he’d just met, but he certainly couldn’t deny the attraction. Hell, he didn’t even know the guy’s name at this point, yet his body was responding as though he knew him intimately. Or rather that he’d like to, anyway.

Damn dry spell.

“Will Tuesday of next week work?” the dark-haired man asked, pulling Gannon from his wayward thoughts.

Milly responded with a polite confirmation.

“Good. Morning or afternoon? I can get you out there at ten or one.” The guy looked up at him.

“Morning’s fine,” Milly replied.

“And which watercraft do you prefer?”

“What’s the difference?” Gannon inquired, feeling as though he should say something.

Funny how he could command an entire company but he couldn’t do something as simple as renting a boat. Then again, he hadn’t the slightest clue about boats. He didn’t own one, didn’t intend to. In fact, this trip would count for the second time in his life that he’d ever been out on the lake.

“We’ve got a thirty-eight-foot yacht, which is a little big for your party, but it’d work. Comes with a kitchenette, onboard bathroom, shower, and a bedroom.”

“Sounds like too much for what we’re hoping for.” Milly peered up at him as though Gannon had the first clue about what they did or didn’t need. After rolling her eyes and making Gannon grin, she turned back to Cam. “We’re looking for something for a couple of hours. Small enough for people to talk to one another but not big enough for them to sneak off.”

“My suggestion,” the handsome man said, his attention directed at Milly, “is the tritoon or pontoon. If you’re lookin’ for water sports—tubing, skiing, that sort of thing—you’ll go with the tritoon. If you’re just lookin’ to cruise the lake, the pontoon’ll work best.”

“Pontoon’s fine,” Gannon confirmed, hoping the guy would keep talking. Gannon was intrigued by that laid-back Texas drawl, the way he dropped the G on most of his words.

It was sexy as fuck.

Okay, not good.

Gannon clearly needed to get out of there because this man was proving to be too much of a distraction, and though Gannon was doing this at Milly’s request, he didn’t have much interest in the idea of taking his team out on a boat just so they could interact on a more casual basis. He’d rather order pizza in the office. They’d probably be content with that.

“Will there be someone who can go out with us?” Milly inquired. “After all, I’m thinkin’ the big guy here can’t drive a boat.”

The man flashed that brilliant smile at Gannon once more, and he felt as though he’d been sucker-punched.

Twice.

“We’ll have someone, sure.”

“You?” Gannon queried, wishing he could pull the question back as soon as the word left his mouth.

“Not sure yet.” Those full lips curved up in a knowing grin. “There’re four of us. Someone’ll be available.”

“Perfect,” Gannon said, hoping Milly hadn’t noticed the sexual tension that had suddenly ratcheted the temperature in the small office up a few degrees.

“I’m sorry,” Milly interrupted. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Cam,” the man replied. “Cam Strickland.”

“Is that short for…?” Milly left the sentence hanging.

Cam grinned, a brilliant flash of straight white teeth. “Cam. It’s short for Cam. My dad’s a car nut.”

Sexy guy, sexy name. Figured.

Gannon purposely looked away. The tension was coiling tighter in his gut, something he hadn’t had to deal with in a while, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it now.

“Thank you, Cam,” Milly inserted. “We look forward to seeing you next Tuesday at ten. What else do you need from us to get it set up? Need us to sign something? A credit card? Want his phone number?”

Gannon choked, covering his mouth and praying he wasn’t blushing.

Cam’s eyes slid from Milly back to Gannon. There was something in that heated, inquisitive gaze. Those ocean-blue eyes casually raked over Gannon, but for the life of him, he couldn’t translate what he saw there. Was it interest? Curiosity? Amusement?

Gannon didn’t know, but suddenly he was hoping like hell Cam would be the one taking them out on the boat. A little premature, sure. But Gannon hadn’t had this sort of reaction to anyone in a while, and although he knew better, he was having a hard time listening to reason.

At thirty-six—though most people thought he was far younger—it’d been a long damn time since Gannon had had any interest in a man. Sure, he’d had brief flings, but he usually kept those impersonal, using his company and the fact that he worked eighty or more hours a week as an excuse. The truth was, he didn’t have time to date, nor the inclination. After years of trying to find the one person who would understand him, be able to cope with his drive to excel at everything he did, the fact that he sometimes traveled more than he was at home, Gannon had pretty much given up.

So, clearly, this instinctive reaction to Cam … well, it meant Gannon’s dry spell had reached the dehydrated stage. He was curious, sure, but the notion was illogical at the same time. There was no way they had anything in common, yet he still found himself fascinated.

And hell if he knew why that was.

Gannon watched Milly and Cam work out the logistics while he stole frequent glimpses of the sexy Cam Strickland and pretended to be interested in his phone.

“Yes, two hours,” Milly confirmed.

Gannon felt a marginal amount of relief at the fact he’d only have to spend a couple of hours out on the water. Short, sweet, simple. Just the way he liked things.

He looked up at Cam again, felt that same thrill shoot through him.

Then again, he could probably tolerate a few more hours if it meant he got to spend it with Cam on board.

The insta-lust was new for him, something he’d never experienced before, at least not to this degree. And now, part of him wished that Milly wasn’t there, and perhaps that this wasn’t a marina but instead a bar.

Gannon wondered if he would’ve approached Cam if he’d seen him in a more relaxed setting.

He didn’t know.

But one thing was for certain … if Gannon got to spend any extended length of time with Cam, they were both sure to find out.