Chapter Three

Eastern Massachusetts provided fickle springs for winter-weary Yankees; this April was no exception. As Bev Winslow steered her “baby”—a one-hundred-foot custom whale-watching boat named Miss Elizabeth—into Salem Harbor, she raised her face to the welcome sunshine. Taking a deep breath of salty ocean air, she thanked Mother Nature for a warm day.

The wind blew her deep auburn ponytail, whipping it into her already watering eyes. She laughed into the wind, and with the hum of twelve cylinders under her, relaxed as she took in the coast. The gulls squawked loudly, following the fishing boats in. A parade of tourists walked the boardwalk along the water, scouting lunch restaurants. Tiny, faded wooden shacks with buoys hanging on the sides dotted the marina. Crisp air and the diamond shine of the sun on the waves evened out her mood. All of this beautiful, rough-and-tumble chaos was hers.

Beverly Regina Winslow belonged here in this sometimes hostile, occasionally calm, always perfect coastal community. And right at this very moment, she couldn’t think of one thing in the world she needed. Of course, her mother would disagree.

Her mother Regina—or Reggie, as everyone called her—wanted things paired off two by two. Reggie didn’t care if they were gay, straight, or pigeons. She believed in fairytale love for everyone, most especially her adamantly single daughter. She couldn’t understand why her mother was so big on love when Reggie herself hadn’t had great luck in that department.

She immediately pushed the dark thoughts away. She hadn’t had to see her father in close to two years and wasn’t going to waste any space in her mind on him. She didn’t believe in wasting anything, especially a beautiful day.

Good mood intact, she guided her baby through the channel, into the harbor, and called in to the harbormaster. After receiving permission, she maneuvered the massive vessel to its dock and waited for the marina workers to secure the lines. The wait was unusually long, but she wasn’t impatient.

Humming a happy little tune, she took her time walking the aluminum gangplank to the dock while making a list on her phone of things to do before the season officially started. And that was why she plowed headfirst into the guy walking toward her.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders before she fell. Her phone clattered to the ground. Flailing, she reached out to grip anything she could. She found purchase in the form of two very nicely shaped biceps under an expensive navy-blue suit.

“Whoa, steady there.”

Strong arms, strong voice. She saw amusement in the tawny eyes and smiled. “Sorry about that. I was being the consummate iHole with my phone.” She let go of his arms as he released her shoulders. Her skin warmed where he had touched her.

She stepped back and got a look at him. He was quite large. Tall and wide-shouldered, he definitely fit the description of “hunk.” The golden-brown eyes and thick, caramel-color hair worked to his advantage. Firm jaw and a great nose added to the package. She had to admit he was worth a second look. She imagined her mother would be drooling right now.

He still hadn’t spoken. She stared, waiting for him to move aside or say something. When he did neither but just continued to blink at her, she cleared her throat, moved to the side of the narrow walkway. “Okay. Have a nice day.” She squeezed by him awkwardly to get to her offices on the marina, while he remained stock-still.

Still shaking her head, she wondered if he was okay mentally. She hadn’t walked more than a few steps before he finally spoke. “Excuse me? Miss? Could you help me?”

She stopped walking and turned back. The hot stranger was striding toward her. By the time they were face to face, he still said nothing and was staring again.

“Something I can help you with?” she asked politely.

“Yes.”

She waited for him to say something more. When he didn’t, she sighed. While this guy was extremely sexy and very well put together, and seemed harmless enough, it was obvious he wasn’t all there. She softened her tone. “Are you lost? Can I help you find your way?”

Finally he answered, “So sorry. I’m not usually so rude. I was a little knocked out back there by you.”

“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Relieved he seemed normal again, she repeated her earlier question. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, thanks. The gentleman named Joe at Atlantic Charters told me I would find Beverly Winslow out here on the docks, but I haven’t had much luck. Any chance you could tell me which dock I should head toward?”

She smiled. Joe would think it hilarious someone had called him a “gentleman.”

“Look no further. I’m her. You can call me Bev.” She reached out a hand to shake and looked him in the eye. “Are you looking to charter the Miss Elizabeth for your company party or something?” The handshake was firm, but he didn’t answer. Suddenly, his eyes glinted gold with anger.

His hand stayed locked tight on hers, and he pulled her toward him. He didn’t seem so harmless now.

“Hey! Let go of me.” She wrenched her hand free. “Do we have a problem here, buddy?”

His voice was barely a whisper. He stepped so close his breath warmed her forehead. “I’m Finn Callahan, and yes, there’s a major problem here. Buddy.”

She didn’t bother to answer. She knew what he wanted, and she wasn’t interested.

****

All Amazon sex goddess fantasies blew away in the salty breeze. In self-defense, he admitted any man who ran into this woman with that body would be temporarily unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak. She was statuesque, curvy, and had an earthy beauty a gypsy would covet. Almond-shaped eyes the color of green sea glass, fringed with dark lashes. She had high cheekbones and a gold dust complexion.

Sucker-punched mentally, and seriously pissed, he shook himself out of the sexual haze. He was a Callahan, for God’s sake, and an attorney. The woman arguably may be the sexiest he had ever encountered, but she was also the rudest. After he had introduced himself, she broke free of his grip, turned on her heel, and stalked toward her offices. Living up to his expectations for worst-mannered human in the world was too easy for her.

Recognizing his day was about to get worse, he followed her into the small, wooden shack that served as Atlantic Charters’ office. It was drafty and damp. He smelled stale coffee and fish bait. It wasn’t the best combination.

She prowled the little room. He took in the neat stacks of papers and folders on the desk. The press clippings from the grand opening of Atlantic Charters hung in solid black frames on a weathered, gray wooden wall. Alongside the framed licenses for doing business were several framed diplomas. One, he noted, was from Brown University for a degree in marine biology and an MBA from Wharton. All of this told him she was organized, proud of her business, and obviously no dummy. He filed the information away for later use. He waited patiently for her next move.

She barked at Joe to leave. Finn raised an eyebrow. “Gee, I thought I was special, but apparently you’re rude to everyone.”

“You haven’t seen rude yet, but I’m willing to educate you, Counselor.”

“You’re absolutely right. Up to this moment, I had only heard rude from you over the phone. Now I get to witness it firsthand.” He searched the tiny space and saw a rusted metal stool he assumed was meant for clients. He opted to stay where he was and said, “No, thanks. I’ll stand.”

“I didn’t offer you a seat.”

“My point exactly, Ms. Winslow. Now since we’ve dispensed with the pleasantries, perhaps we could get to the reason I’m here.”

He almost felt bad for her as he watched her shoulders sag in defeat. Almost. Beverly Winslow had been a pain in the ass for the last two weeks, and he wasn’t ready to let it go. He wanted an explanation.

She plopped down into the desk chair. “Look, I told you on the phone the first time, I’m not interested. I was not rude the first time we spoke. Said rudeness started after you wouldn’t take no for an answer. This, in some circles, Counselor, is also considered rude behavior.”

“It’s not rude if it falls under the heading of doing my job,” he said. He pushed a hand through his hair. “Okay, look, I can’t do what you seem to want me to do. I can’t go away. I’m bound by law to pass this information on to you. Not only that, I made a promise to someone, and I can’t let it go.” He shifted closer to the desk.

“If, after you hear everything, you still feel the same way, then I promise to leave you alone. We’ll make everything legal. It will be as if we’d never met.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll listen. I can say no just as easily later as I can now.”

He didn’t for one minute believe she’d say no.