Jennifer Crusie - Manhunting

Jake pushed his head back under the water for a minute and then hauled him up by his collar.

“Sorry, Lance. My hand slipped.” He pulled him dripping from the pool. Lance gagged, and Jake let him go and pounded him on the back.

“Well, it’s been a lovely evening, but I really must go.” Kate smiled at Jake. “Thank you again. Good night.” She waved to Mark and strolled out of the pool enclosure.

“I don’t think she’s your type, Lance,” she heard Jake say. “She doesn’t seem to appreciate a great guy like you.”

Jake helped Lance into the hotel and put him on the elevator to his room. Lance’s main topic of conversation was Kate, and he wasn’t flattering. “I hope that frozen bitch burns” was the last thing he said as the elevator doors closed.

Surprising himself, Jake disagreed. Yeah, she was frozen, but you had to admire a woman who could take care of a creep like Lance so neatly. She’d put him in the pool with one quick push and then stood calmly on the side waiting for him to come up. There was a lot to be said for a woman who could take care of herself. Then he stopped himself. Cool, efficient, independent. Those were the qualities he’d fallen for in a woman once before, and she’d turned out to be a chilly, expensive mistake. The same mistake his brother was about to make with Valerie. Don’t be dumb, Jake, he warned himself, and went back to the luau.

The light from the ginger-jar lamps on each side of the big bed filled the room with a soft glow. The room felt homey and warm, and Kate relaxed once her door was closed behind her.

Lance was just a mistake, she decided as she got ready for bed. Tomorrow she would do better. Tomorrow she would play golf with and fall in love with Peter, the public relations ace, and they would live successfully ever after, playing upscale golf in their free time.

For some reason, that prospect did not appeal to her and she fell asleep feeling vaguely uneasy about her own plan for the future. That unease followed her into her dreams, plaguing her with visions of overweight blond men trying to snare her with leis while she searched for somebody else-somebody she couldn’t remember when she woke up the next morning. I’m not even cooperating in my dreams, she thought as she climbed out of bed. Get back to your plan, Kate. Work on it.

The problem was that she hated her plan even more in the daylight than she had the night before. She wanted to be swept off her feet. She wanted to see him across a crowded room and love him so much and want him so much that she wouldn’t be able to stand it. Love at first sight. Love that would last forever.

Fat chance. She argued herself back to her game plan. After all, what she was looking for wasn’t love at first sight, anyway, because that kind of love didn’t last. No, she wanted a practical love, partnering a distinguished successful man; the kind of love that two people of similar backgrounds carefully and thoughtfully constructed for themselves. That was reality.

Get a grip on your life, woman! she thought. Make it happen. Go out and meet people this morning, have a nice lunch, and then play golf with Peter this afternoon. Something will happen. You can do it. Jessie said so.

She put on some of the new lacy underwear Jessie had picked out for her, and then covered it sensibly with beige shorts and a white sleeveless blouse. Her chignon looked a little formal with the shorts, so she just pulled her hair back and wound it into a loose knot. When she left the cabin, the sky was the clear, bright, vivid blue that only happens in August. The heat was building, but the breeze was cool and the trees were full of birds singing their heads off. She was pleased with herself and with the beautiful day, and she hummed as she strolled up to the hotel for a late nine o’clock breakfast Then Valerie caught her.

“We’re going to do wonderful things today,” Valerie told her, drawing her into a group of other late risers. The hotel as represented by Valerie obviously wanted its guests involved in life. Although that had been Kate’s sincere plan, when suddenly confronted with the reality of mingling with others, she backed off, appalled.

“Not right now, Valerie,” she said, trying to sidle off.

“Tennis, croquet, golf, horseback riding, or tag in the pool-what’s it going to be?” Valerie drew her inexorably back into the group.

I’d rather die , Kate thought.

“What’s it going to be, Kathy, honey?” Frank was in front of her, dressed in a wide-striped T-shirt, bouncing on his heels. “How about pool tag?” He leered at her. “I want to see you in that bathing suit.”

“I don’t think so.” Kate backed away again. “Thanks.”

She turned and saw Jake, walking down the drive, carrying fishing poles, a small six-pack cooler, and a duffel bag of what looked to be cushions. He was wearing cutoffs that had seen much better days, an old, torn, checked shirt, and his cowboy hat. He nodded briefly at her and walked past her toward the woods, his hat tilted down to keep the sun off his face.

“Well, you have to do something,” Valerie said with a determined smile. “You can’t just sit.”

“I am doing something.” Kate jerked her thumb at Jake. “I’m going fishing with Jake.” She turned and walked down the path behind him, taking long strides to catch up.

“You don’t actually have to take me fishing,” she told him, knowing he’d heard. “Just let me stay with you until we’re into the woods and I’m safe.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, and then handed her the poles without looking at her or breaking his slow, relaxed amble. “There’s an extra pole and room in the boat.”

Kate hesitated a moment, but when she looked back, Valerie was watching her.

And I’m paying a lot of money for this, she thought. I’m going to kill Jessie. Then she sighed and turned to follow Jake through the woods to the lake.

The lake was small, secluded, and green. Pulled up on its stony shore was a wide shallow rowboat that looked like it had lost its paint before Kate had been born.

“This floats?”

“Oh, yeah.” Jake tossed the duffel in. “I wouldn’t jump up and down in it, but it floats.”

“There aren’t any seats,” Kate said.

“Somebody ripped them out once to use as oars.” Jake pushed the boat most of the way into the water. “Stack the cushions. If you’re still coming.”

Kate looked over her shoulder. Valerie was definitely out of sight, but she was also one of the most determined women Kate had ever met. Better to take no chances. She stepped carefully into the boat and dumped the duffel out There were half a dozen square blue plastic-covered boat cushions, and several faded-pink sofa pillows. She stacked three of the plastic cushions at each end and sat on one stack, her hands neatly folded in front of her. Jake climbed in opposite her and pushed off, rowing when the boat had floated a little way into the lake. It was the most energetic thing she’d seen him do, but even here he was lazy, rowing with long, slow strokes. She watched his hands on the oars and the flex of the muscles in his forearms, mesmerized by the slow movement of his body as he pulled the oars deeply through the water.

He rowed them into the shade of a willow on the far bank, tied the boat to an overhanging branch, and spread the plastic cushions he’d been sitting on behind him, topping them with the sofa pillows. Kate did the same with her cushions and leaned back to watch him.

Every move he made was slow, she realized, but exactly efficient. He picked up his rod, cast his line expertly into the water, and then jammed the pole between the gunwale of the boat and the oarlock. No wasted movement While she was still admiring his efficiency, he kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt.