Chapter 6

Dane couldn't remember a single time Zoe had trouble with a tour group. She held her own, and he always booked party boats well under regulation capacity, especially when only one captain was scheduled. So, why was he sitting on the picnic table in the outdoor waiting area at ten o'clock on a Friday night instead of kicking up his heels at Show Me's?

Because her tour group had shown up in a cab. And that could be a good sign or a bad sign. A good sign that the party boat customers weren't planning on drinking and driving and a bad sign that they planned on getting loaded enough to need a cab. He reminded himself—again—there was only so much they could drink on a ninety-minute ride with no bathroom.

The lights from the distant bridge turned the water into rippling black glass. He stood each time a boat trolled, its headlight bright enough to seem like a portable lighthouse.

Zoe had built the waiting area with her own hands. A roof, three benches, and a picnic table. He sat on top of the table with his walkie on his thigh, watching the edge of the water. It was his idea to paint everything blue. It was her mother's idea to cover it with sea turtles and shore birds. Harmony had also added the sign that read, 'No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problem.' What a woman.

The beach was shut down for the night. No lights were allowed anywhere on land along the waterfront during turtle nesting season. He thought of the female loggerheads that might be crawling up the sand at that moment. The ten miles of beach on the west side of Ibis alone brought nearly two hundred nests last year. Zoe said they were on track for that many again.

The dunes to the south of Sun Trips were a preferred nesting spot. What did Richard Beckett have in mind for the property? He doubted it was a turtle-friendly plan. The next lazy bob of light aimed straight for his docking pier. He stood, then sat again.

She wouldn't want anyone to see him wait for her twice in one day. But, he was the boss, dammit. And they were the only two left. He tossed his walkie on the table and made his way to the pier.

No music came through the speakers of the boat. His face fell as he noted the quiet was all wrong. Carefully, she flanked the pier. The riders sat with their hands in their laps. One looked like booze and boating hadn't mixed well with his stomach.

"Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen," Zoe announced. "I hope you enjoyed your ride. We have bathrooms just inside the doors and to the right. I see your cab making the turn off Pelican Bridge right now."

She was soaking wet. One of the girls snickered as she gave her a look, then snorted. Another one of the girls joined in as they exited the boat one at a time. The dude in the middle walked with his knees together, his nuts in his hands... and also wet. The scenario was coming together.

Dane gave Zoe a once over. She looked like she was in one piece. He tied the boat as if it was something he always did, then helped check the gear and straighten the chairs. "Thank you for coming," he said as they exited one by one. He wasn't sure if he should invite them to come back again or not.

Beer cans were recycled, garbage tossed, and the boat readied for the first snorkeling/eco tour scheduled for the morning. Without pausing, Dane asked, "Drunk fell overboard?"

Zoe slung her tiny purse over her shoulder. "Yep."

He adjusted a buoy that was knotted and hadn't fallen completely between the boat and the pier. "You had to go in after him?"

"Right again." They headed for the office to check the group back in.

"That doesn't explain why he was holding his jewels like they were jewels."

"He fell overboard on purpose to get me in the water with him."

Dane's first reaction was a deep desire to follow the dude into the bathroom and teach the little prick what happens when you take advantage of... of what? His girl? She wasn't. She'd made that clear at St. Pete's police station when they met the detective. Was she just a friend who grew up on the same island as he did? Shit.

Then, he smiled. Smiled from ear to ear. "And you gave his junk a hearty slam with what... your knee I assume?"

"You assume right."

His brows dropped. It wasn't the first time in the past week she had a man come at her physically. "I'm following you home."

After all he just said, this was the comment that made her stop and face him?

She tilted her head, looked him in the eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll be in at eight to ready the pontoon for the snorkel tour." She walked into the office area, stood behind the check-in desk and artificially smiled at the first girl in the line.

* * *

Zoe dried her hair from her shower just enough to pass as presentable, slapped on some makeup, and waited in her front room for Raine to get there. She didn't own Sun Trips anymore and couldn't ban that drunk jerk from ever returning. She had to just take it. Well, take it after she swatted his wandering hands and kneed him soundly in the nuts. Guys and their nuts. A few drinks with her sisters and she'd be good as new. Although Detective Osborne didn't develop the photo of the knife through the skull, she still needed to fill them in on her visit to St. Pete's. And her possible dinner date.

She loved her little two-bedroom house. She'd earned it. The money made from her business—her old business—all went either into reinvesting in Sun Trips Touring or into this house. The money Dane paid for her half would cover the house payments and bills for at least a few more years. For now, she was smart and pinching her budget wherever she could.

She'd turned away from the style of the eccentric island home she grew up in. Hers was simple, uncluttered and... her. The soft yellow walls of the living room spoke to her, subtle yet inviting. A simple slate blue couch and love seat with floor lamp between. A wicker coffee table and small flat-screen TV for the moments she never watched television. When was the last time she turned the thing on? Her phone buzzed. It was Willow? She jogged out the front door, locking it behind her.

"Willow," Zoe said, surprised to see her in the passenger seat of Raine's pickup. "How did you get away?"

"Mom and Dad are keeping Chloe. The bar is fully staffed. I heard about your tour group."

"You heard about my night? It just happened."

Dane. Sometimes he and Willow were closer friends than Zoe liked.

More important than her tour group, Zoe asked, "Aren't you afraid, you know, about letting Chloe stay with them? At that house?" She didn't mean it exactly the way it came out. But whoever broke in was still out there.

"They came over to my place for euchre. Chloe won. They offered to stay after Dane called."

No snide remark from Raine about the reference to Dane. That probably wasn't a good sign. It didn't go unnoticed. "Is Show Me's okay?" Raine asked.

Shrugging, Zoe answered. "I'm getting drunk. Where is not a factor."

Raine huffed. "Your getting drunk is two full-leaded beers instead of light ones."

They pulled up to the bar. An ostentatiously jacked turquoise blue Jeep sat in the asphalt parking lot. "Did you tell Dane where we were going?"

Willow answered as she slid out of the truck. "I may have mentioned it as a possibility, but nothing for certain. Not that there are a lot of choices on the island. I need a break from Luciana's."

"But I haven't been to your bar in—"

"That's silly," Willow opened Zoe's door, took her arm, and wrapped it firmly in hers. "We probably won't even see Dane."

That would be impossible. If Dane Corbin was here, everyone would know it. Show Me's was booming, literally and metaphorically. She could feel the beat of the music out here. The owner had added a gift shop to the lobby, redecorated the dance floor, and expanded further onto the beach. He bought up some random lots to add parking spots for the complimentary valet parking Raine refused to use.

The place was too formal for an island. Island bars should have walls open to the outside, vivid colors and character. Show Me's may have decent food and plenty of company, but the atmosphere was boring. Zoe greeted the bouncer as they passed. "Hello, Eli. We won't be any trouble tonight," she told him sarcastically.

"The three Clearwater sisters? I'm calling for backup. How's the shelter doing?"

Eli could build anything, even a shelter on a roof for a handful of goats. "Sturdy as ever. You're a genius."

"Damnedest thing I've ever made," he said as they passed him and looked around for a table.

The air was thick. Between the humidity of June and jiggling bodies on the dance floor, Zoe was thankful the owner added a beer garden.

"I'm going to check on the lighting outside," Raine yelled over the sound of thumping. She had a one-track mind. "I'll be right back."

"What are you going to do if it isn't turtle friendly? Hunt up Blake Eaton at this hour?" Zoe asked.

Raine had an evil grin she saved for anything involving a good fight for the turtles. It was just in the last few years they were making a statistical comeback, as small as it was. There was no stopping Raine now.

"It wouldn't be a first offense," Raine reminded her.

Slinging the long strap of her tiny purse over her shoulder, Zoe maneuvered around a few side tables, heading for an empty one she spotted in a corner.

"Don't look now," Willow said.

As if that comment ever made anyone do anything other than look. Dane Corbin could find treasure in spots no one else did, he could run a business with his eyes closed, and he was a hell of a good dancer. The ladies ate it up, locals and tourists alike. Zoe did a one-eighty and headed for the bar. Willow didn't question and followed.

"MGD. Bottle," she said to the bartender before turning to Willow. "What do you want to drink?"

"Amaretto Stone Sour," Willow answered.

The bartender looked to Zoe. "Lite?"

Zoe squinted. "Leaded."

The bartender turned to take care of their order as Zoe leaned against the bar. She didn't want to face the dance floor. "Amaretto Stone Sour? You've been drinking that since high school."

"Slurping beer from a bottle isn't much to brag about." Willow made her way around Zoe, making her rotate to face the dance floor again. Dane had two girls twerking their butts at him. He turned his eyes to Zoe and kept them there. She could see the cobalt color all the way from the dance floor to where she stood at the bar. Goosebumps erupted on her arms and a chill scurried up her back and over her scalp.

"MGD?" Willow. "After your second one of those, I might have to carry you home."

"Let's sit." Zoe pulled Willow away as she took a long drink. The table in the corner was still empty.

From behind, an arm slid around the front of her. It wasn't like the intruder had done. And it obviously wasn't the arm of the man who attacked her, but she flinched anyway.

"Dance with me," a breathy voice whispered in her ear.

Zoe grabbed the arm with both hands and reactively pushed it away so she could get a look. Thick leather bracelet. Raised veins over strands of muscle. It was him. She turned and faced a thinner band of leather around his neck, then lifted her gaze to the sandy brown hair that threatened to cover the blue in his eyes. The strength of his body mixed with the close proximity and unnerved her to the point of making her shiver.

From the time she was a child, her parents taught the four of them to dance around the makeshift fire pit in their backyard. She could waltz, tango, and even do the two-step. She could jiggle by herself, dancing praises for their fortune as she pranced around the fire. She could most definitely not do what was happening out on Show Me's dance floor.

"This isn't high school, Dane," Raine interrupted as she joined them. "She's not going to fall for you ever again."

"How many years are you gonna hold on to that one?" Dane may bite his tongue when he was with their parents, but not so much when they weren't around.

"Not that I don't appreciate you sticking up for me, big sister, but that was cold, even for you."

The creases between Raine's eyes relaxed. "You're right. I'm sorry, Dane. Not in such a great mood. I just found uncovered lights in plain sight of two turtle nests. Blake Eaton had better be glad it's too early for either of them to hatch, or I'd march over and bang on his doors right now."

"Call a truce and dance with him, Zoe. We'll find a table." Willow took the beer from Zoe's hand and pulled Raine along.

Well, it wasn't like that made a diff—

In a highly public gesture, Dane linked fingers with her and led the way. The music wasn't slow, but it wasn't fast either... so that was something. Bongo drums thumped and something with a twang rang in the background. She couldn't back down from Dane Corbin with nearly every pair of female eyes trained on her. He stopped center stage, of course.

Turning to face her, he grasped her hips. He smirked as he stood without moving, then lifted a corner of his mouth. At just over six foot, he stood a full half-foot taller than her. She wasn't wearing heels tonight.

Playboy jerk.

In return, she slapped her hands on his shoulders. She should have chosen his wrists or maybe his elbows because his shoulders were lean, warm, and flexed under her grip. The squint she volleyed back at him must have hit its target, because he clasped his fingers tighter on her hips, jerking them to his. Defying her will, waves of heat spread from her core outward to every inch of her body.

And then he started moving. Strong hands pushed and pulled, guiding her hips with the pounding of the beat. They moved in their circle, forward and back, rotating clockwise, reversing left then right. No wonder the girls wanted to dance with him. She didn't have a chance to make a fool of herself. Although torture couldn't have made her admit it, she was having fun. She didn't need to watch her feet or the floor. Though she told herself repeatedly it wasn't sensual, it was exactly that.

No more than an inch separated their fluid movements. As if trusting her, he let go of one of her hips, sliding his hand up her waist. His thumb brushed the side of her breast before trailing around to the middle of her back. Another wave of heat shivered through her.

He slipped a thigh between hers, scissoring her legs when they moved to the side. His hard thighs guided hers. They were warm and she had to concentrate to keep her eyes from rolling to the back of her head. Her breasts moved against his chest as their bodies rotated. His hip pressed into hers when he wanted her to step back. Like a magnet needing its positive charge, she followed when that hip turned away.

His cheeks were flushed, the veins over his temples pulsed. His jaws flex as the waves of heat seared back through her arms and legs and landed like a tsunami in her center. She convinced herself the sweat that formed at the base of her neck was from the movements and dozens of bodies clustered around them. Not from the dancing.

They'd known each other long enough to interpret gestures and read the meaning behind their stares. Had they broken eye contact since the song started? The cobalt blue was deep and bold, like the entrance to the hidden cavern Zoe found.

The image of the skull blew past her vision, bringing her out of her sensual trance. Good thing since the next song was slow, and she had lost all trust in her body's reactions to deal with something slow. She could not fall for Dane Corbin. Not now. Not ever.