California Dreamin' Collection Read online

  She lifted her head to look at him. “You don’t make enough to be self-sustaining?”

  “Lots of companies like ours are out here. Ones that have several boats, unlimited free alcohol, and tons of advertising dollars. We have one boat, all you can drink soda, and fliers handed out by local businesses to people who most likely made their travel plans before ever even hearing of us.”

  “So most of your business comes from word of mouth?”

  “All of it,” he corrected. He turned his head toward her, bringing their faces really close. “Last year, our website got a little more than two hundred hits.”

  “You can’t run a business nowadays without an online presence!”

  “You know your dad avoids computers at all costs. I’m lucky I even got my GED, okay?” A defensive edge had crept into his voice, and his body grew tense beside her.

  She rested her head on his arm again, her mind whirling. “You could hire someone.”

  He let out a short laugh, but it lacked humor. “With what money?”

  She almost offered to do it herself but bit the words back in time. She wanted Dad to leave this all behind. If she stepped in to help him, he’d stay out here forever.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she said instead. “What would you do if you didn’t have this anymore?”

  “I don’t know. Probably follow Brig back to Colorado or help him open another business.”

  “You’d move with him to another state? What about your life here?”

  “My life here,” he repeated with a humorless laugh. Absently he rubbed his scarred knuckles against his chin. “It wasn’t much of a life until I met your dad. He found me half dead on the beach. He cleaned me up and taught me how to run a ship even though I didn’t want to learn. For the first year, I planned to steal the boat and sell it, maybe leave him to the same people I’d been fighting my whole life. But he never gave up on me,” he said, his tone filled with awe.

  “He doesn’t give up easily,” Claire murmured as she took in Miguel, now knowing a piece of his history. It wasn’t too far from what she’d guessed already— that he’d had some sort of rough past. She just didn’t know how far removed he was from the person who’d been in fights brutal enough to leave scars.

  “After a while, I stopped trying to sneak back to my old life, and I got more and more involved in helping Brig. My dad kicked me out of the house when I was fifteen for getting into too much trouble, and that’s the last time I stepped foot in my high school, too. I’ve been in and out of jail, though.” He chuckled at some memory. “I yelled at your dad a lot. Screwed with the ropes just to piss him off. One time I even punched him in the jaw— left a huge bruise, too, but he never made me leave. I have no idea why.”

  But Claire did. Her dad had always had a soft spot for the underdog— one of the reasons she thought he connected with her more than Jade, who almost never had a problem standing up to Mom or living her life her own way, but Claire had always struggled to take what she wanted.

  “He paid for me to do night school and get my GED. For the first time in my whole life, I knew that someone believed I was more than a screw-up.”

  “Wow.” Feelings of pride for what her dad had done— and for what Miguel had accomplished— welled up inside her.

  “He used to tell me these stories,” Miguel said. “Ones he said he read to you as a kid. They were always about adventures at sea— getting lost, finding treasure, fighting pirates. He said the pirate stories were always your favorite.”

  “I can’t believe how much he’s told you about me.”

  “We’ve had a lot of time, just the two of us, over the last four years.” He paused, reflective. “If Double B’s went under, I would help Brig build up whatever kind of business he wanted, and I would do everything I could to make it succeed. I don’t have many skills, but one thing I learned on the street is how to be scrappy.”

  “And you’re loyal to him.” What would it be like to have someone like Miguel care that much about her?

  “He’s like a father to me.”

  A comfortable silence fell, and somehow every bit of space that had existed between them had vanished. His minty breath fanned her cheeks, and her lungs stopped working for a moment. His dark eyes shined with the reflection of the stars.

  “You’re different tonight,” she whispered.

  “It’s the hair.”

  “No. It’s more. You’re softer.”

  He shrugged. “Burials at sea always make me reflective.” He nudged her gently. “You’re different tonight too.”

  “How so?”

  “Less soft. Like you have some fire in you that wasn’t there yesterday.”

  His words made her warm all over. No one had ever described her as having fire in her. She was always the compliant one, the reliable one. Not the kind of girl who defied her mom, who jumped onto a moving ship, or who lay in a hammock with a man she’d met only twenty-four hours before.

  “I feel different.” Her words were breathy as she searched his eyes, looking for some hint of his thoughts.

  He smiled. “It’s the magic of the ocean,” he said, and then his mouth covered hers in a gentle kiss. She wrapped her hand behind his head and pulled him closer, loving the silky feeling of the dark strands between her fingers. His other hand came behind her back, so she was cocooned in his arms, their kiss awakening feelings inside that she’d never felt before.

  Somehow they’d gotten even closer, when a loud crack over their head sent them reeling apart. Claire’s heart pounded wildly, and her eyes darted frantically for the noise until she saw a firework explode in the sky above them. She couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped from her chest— the full kind of laugh that used most of her body and released all of the tension that had built up inside over her over the past several days.

  “I’ve kissed a lot of women, but I’ve never made literal fireworks go off. I am good.”

  “Not that good,” she lied. Okay, maybe she had seen sparks behind her eyes before the literal ones went off.

  He shook his head in resignation and drew his fingers across his goatee. “It’s the beard. Or lack thereof. If I still had it, this would have been a much better experience for you.”

  “No, no.” She shook her head vehemently, remembering the food caught in it earlier. “I like you this way much better.”

  “So I clean up good, huh?”

  “You know you do.” Claire smacked his chest lightly, but then left her hand there as she snuggled into his side. “Despite my first impression with the whole homeless, killer vibe you had going on, I like you, Miguel.”

  Even without seeing him, she could feel his smile.

  “I’ve always liked you, Claire. From the first moment your dad started telling stories about you, I’ve wanted to meet you.”

  Now Claire was the one smiling. It stretched from ear to ear so wide, it almost hurt.

  “Am I what you expected?”

  He tilted her head up and placed the lightest of kisses on her mouth. “Better,” he said against her lips. And while fireworks lit up the sky behind them, Miguel pulled her into another kiss that took her breath away.

  Chapter Seven

  “Some show last night, huh?” Claire’s dad said from behind her.

  She gave him a distracted nod and reeled in an empty line again. “Yeah. It was colorful.” They’d be heading back to shore in an hour, and she was the only person on board who still hadn’t caught a fish. Even little Ethan had pulled in a six-pound sculpin with his dad’s help.

  “I meant the one in the hammock.”

  Claire’s heart dropped along with the pole in her hand. She scrambled to pick it up, then turned to him, face burning. “You saw that?”

  “It was kind of hard to miss.” He chuckled. “Came out when I heard the fireworks, ended up seeing more than I bargained for.”

  “Dad, I know it was irresponsible of me—”

  “Hey.” He held up a hand, and she was
glad he’d cut off whatever she was about to say.

  She should apologize for distracting Miguel and crossing a line, but she didn’t want to. Last night was amazing, and even though she knew it would never happen again, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it either.

  Yet, she kind of regretted that her dad caught her making out on his boat.

  “Don’t overthink this. He’s a good one.” Before she could process her dad’s approval, he yelled, “Miguel! My girl needs your help.”

  “No I don’t!”

  He winked and pushed away from the railing then went to help someone else.

  Miguel came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her then placed a light kiss on her neck. She shivered despite the warm sun.

  “My dad will see,” she said, but didn’t move out of his arms.

  “I don’t think he cares.” His lips brushed against her ear. “Besides, he sent me over to help you, and he’s the boss.”

  At that, Claire stepped away from him. “I don’t need help!”

  “How many fish have you caught again?” He folded his arms and raised one infuriating eyebrow. Without all of the hair covering his face, it was easier to see his expressions— and too tempting to stare at his lips.

  “I have the blood of Double B himself flowing through my veins,” she reminded him.

  “Which is where all your orneriness comes from.”

  “No, it means I have a natural affinity for sport fishing.” She pushed him away to have an excuse to touch him, something obvious when she kept her hands on his firm chest. “You’re distracting me.”

  He smiled knowingly and stepped forward to give her a welcome kiss on the lips. “Distracting you is something I could get very used to.”

  Me, too.

  “Miguel,” one of the customers called. “Can you come over here when you get a second?” Even from where she stood, Claire could see that his line had become hopelessly tangled. She sighed and recast her own.

  “You guys make a cute couple,” little Ethan’s mom, Brianne, said with a smile.

  “Thanks.” Claire thought about explaining that they weren’t a couple, not really, but she didn’t want to have to get into the logistics of figuring out what to call the person you were trying to put out of business but really liked kissing.

  “I can’t believe he’s the same guy as the one we saw when coming onboard, with all that hair. I think my husband’s disappointed he shaved it all off. He was talking about growing his own beard out.” She shuddered, and Claire had to agree with the sentiment. She glanced over at Brianne’s husband— the one with the tangled line.

  Miguel had cut it and was showing him how to restring it, his strong hands making intricate motions he’d surely done a million times before. She knew a dopey smile was spreading across her face but couldn’t help it. He glanced up and caught her watching him, and his return wink made her heart skip a beat.

  A flash of orange from the corner of her eye made her turn her head.

  Brianne didn’t see it and continued, “I don’t know what it is with men and facial hair. Sometimes I think—”

  In a blink, the orange object had fallen over the side of the ship. Claire knew immediately what had happened; the toddler had fallen overboard.

  “It’s Ethan!” she screamed at Miguel, cutting off Brianne, whose face had turned pale. Without thinking, Claire ran to the side of the ship, stepped onto the edge, and jumped into the freezing cold ocean. She scanned one way and then the other before she spied the bobbing life jacket twenty feet away. She could barely hear the little boy’s frightened wails over the sound of the blood rushing through her ears.

  Using muscles she hadn’t used since swim team in college, she swam as fast as she could to Ethan, calling to him as she went. Within in seconds, she had him by the vest and pulled him to her chest.

  “Ethan, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you, bud. We’re going to swim back to the ship to see your mom and dad, okay? I need you to wrap your arms around my neck.”

  He held tight to her, but his life jacket made it awkward for her to swim. A dark shadow glided beneath the surface not far away. She couldn’t tell if it was a shark, and she didn’t want to wait around to find out.

  “Side stroke,” she whispered to keep her mind calm, then began the motions.

  “Take this!”

  She turned, surprised and relieved to see Miguel treading water beside her with a life preserver.

  “I think— there’s a shark— over there,” she said, her words coming out in between gasps.

  His expression grim, Miguel held out the preserver. She grabbed it with one hand, still holding Ethan with the other, and Miguel used the rope to drag them back to the ship. There, he led them to the stairs of the lower deck, where he helped lift Ethan up first before jumping up himself and reaching down to help Claire out of the water. She shivered, the chill hitting her worse that the coldness she’d felt after Dad left. The Pacific was so much icier than she imagined. The wind kicked up, causing goose bumps to break out across her trembling body.

  Brianne held a soaking-wet Ethan close in her arms. Thank you, she mouthed to Claire.

  Claire gave her a thumbs up and headed to the upper deck to get some sun. Her dad was there waiting for her with a towel to wrap around her and another one for Ethan. Miguel took each of her arms in his hands and rubbed up and down to warm her up.

  “You were quick,” he said, his tone impressed. “You’d almost reached him before I even realized what had happened.”

  “I saw him at the right time,” she said with a shudder. “Did you see something in the water?”

  He nodded, and she decided not to ask what it was. His tense expression was enough of an answer. Ethan’s parents hovered over their son, both of them in tears.

  Miguel stopped rubbing her arms warm and pulled her into a hug.

  “That was amazing,” she said, looking up at him, feeling giddy now that some of the adrenaline was wearing off. She’d jumped into the ocean to save a little boy. She hadn’t thought through it first or waited for someone else to do it, like she always did. Instead, she’d just jumped into the freezing, shark-infested Pacific to save a little boy. She was kind of a hero.

  “You are amazing,” Miguel said, his nose brushing hers. “And you’re cold. Why don’t you go change before we have to head back to shore?”

  “If I don’t change, does that mean we get to stay here forever?” The words fell from her lips before she could filter them. Being a hero made her say brave things. Or stupid things, seeing as how they both knew that as soon as the Double B’s was docked at the harbor, this romance between them would end.

  “Yes,” Miguel said fervently, a teasing twinkle in his eye. “You’ll wear these clothes for the rest of your life, and we’ll live off fish. It will be fulfilling to watch Ethan grow into an adult on this ship.”

  “I think so,” she replied back. “Except his family might not like that.”

  “And if I had to be stranded in the middle of the ocean, I’d rather it just be with you.”

  Her stomach twirled. She placed her hand across it and took a deep breath.

  Brig came up behind them, and Miguel reluctantly let her go. Brig gave her a kiss on her temple. “You did good, Claire. Ready to head back to land?”

  Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It had been too much to hope that she’d never have to face her problems again. Being on this boat with Miguel and her dad had been a fantasy. A dream.

  And the thing about dreams was eventually, you woke up.

  Chapter Eight

  Mom was sitting in a lounge chair with a striped umbrella to protect her from the sun, sipping a margarita at the end of the dock. Claire had spotted the umbrella as soon as the boat got close, and she knew exactly whose it was.

  Miguel whistled under his breath. “Your mom is insane.”

  “Little bit. Jade and I call her intense.”

  “That, too.” He finishe
d clicking all the fishing poles into their holders before turning to Claire. “You’re really going to go with her?”

  “I have to.” Claire folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe while Miguel walked toward her. As soon as he was close enough, she wrapped her arms around his waist. She’d never wanted to be this close to someone so much in her life. In only a few days, he’d worked his way into her heart, but he was a part of the fantasy, and it was time to let go.

  She hugged him and slipped away. He dropped his arms, but she could feel his stare as she walked away. Her dad hugged her and helped her onto the dock, where her mom glanced up from her phone with a smug smile.

  “Have fun, dear?”

  Claire waved at the chair, the drink, the fact her mother was sitting there waiting for her, as if she were still a teenager. “This is ridiculous, Mom. I can’t even talk to you right now.” She stalked past, her flip flops making loud thwacking noises against the dock.

  Her mom grabbed her and yanked her to a stop, her fingernails digging into Claire’s arm. “You will stop acting childish this instant. It’s one thing to skip off for a little vacation, but to leave Everett hanging, to run from me yesterday? Unacceptable behavior. I might expect Jade to act like this, but never you.”

  “Is Everett still here?” Claire asked through her tight jaw.

  “He’s grabbing us some lunch. Oh, there he is.” Her mother’s hard face transformed into a smile when she saw Everett and waved him over.

  He was tall, tanned, and blond. The perfect all-American man with two degrees and the kind of ambition that would quickly propel him to the top of Mom’s growing company. His white teeth and sky-blue eyes sparkled first at her mom, then at her. Most people might have thought that he was more handsome than Miguel— the wild, unshaven Miguel, at least— but what Everett had in appearance, he lacked in passion, integrity, wit, and everything else Claire found attractive.