Joanne Rock - Making a Splash

“She’s as smooth as ever,” he muttered, although he didn’t rise to defend the twenty-six-foot vintage fiberglass sailboat with the same fire as usual. “But I’ve got an offer on her and I’m taking her down to Charleston this week to meet with a potential buyer.”

Crap .

Keith hadn’t planned for that possibility, thinking he could goad Jack into a boat switch for a few days with no problem.

“You’re selling the Vesta?” This surprised him for a few reasons, not the least of which was because the Vesta was the first sailboat he’d ever purchased, and he’d christened it with Alicia.

What if Jack was truly making an effort to move on?

“Probably. Maybe.” He shrugged. “Heading south this time of year is bound to be a good idea either way. I’m doing some investing in local businesses and figured I might as well free up my capital to continue in that direction.”

What direction? Keith wanted to shout, since investing hardly amounted to the kind of hands-on work Jack preferred. His brother really did need help finding his way back to a satisfying civilian life.

All the more reason for Keith to forge ahead with his plan, right?

“Yeah?” Thinking fast, he tried to figure out how to make the scheme come together in light of the new wrinkle. “You ought to let me deliver the Vesta for you, bro. I have a client I need to see down that way and I’m well overdue for some time off.”

Jack snorted. “You? Sail the Vesta solo all the way to South Carolina?” He shook his head. “You forget, a vintage classic like a Pearson Triton doesn’t come equipped with all the techno-gadgets you need on the miniature corporate yacht you’ve got. I don’t know how you’d manage without satellite positioning and automatic docking.”

“Is that right?” Keith felt the same thrill as when he had a new client on the line, ready to close a deal that would reap fat rewards for his growing business. He could tell he had Jack on the hook. “I’ll bet I could handle the Vesta a whole hell of a lot easier than you could navigate a state-of-the-art, forty-five-foot power catamaran on your own.”

Across the table, Daniel’s eyes flicked their way and Kyle set down his Black-Berry, the brothers drawn into the bickering like moths to a flame. Hell, they’d forged a brotherhood by more than blood—which was why super-competitive Axel had fit right in. Every Murphy present was used to the unspoken family code of “don’t talk the talk if you can’t walk the walk.”

And they all talked a damned good game. Bets and competitions were their way of life. No clan affair was complete without an impromptu game of football or a wager over who could throw a ball, horseshoe, javelin, you-name-it the farthest.

“Do you remember who you’re talking to?” Jack shook his head in disbelief, though he lowered his voice in deference to the fact that their mother had zeroed in on their table and was making her way toward them with determined steps. “You think I don’t know state-of-the-art boats? I’ve been in the U.S. Navy for the last four years.”

The hard glint in Jack’s eyes told Keith his brother wasn’t backing down. Of course Jack could handle the boat. It was Alicia LeBlanc who would provide the challenge. And damned if Keith didn’t feel the smallest twinge of guilt for sending Jack into the fray unarmed and unaware.

But Keith knew what it was like to get taken in by a manipulative woman. And it pissed him off to think about his brother setting aside someone like Alicia without looking back. People fortunate enough to have something special like that had no business throwing it away.

Their mother arrived at the table in her peach silk dress and dyed-to-match pumps, her outfit perfectly coordinated with the harvest-themed colors of the engagement party. Colleen Murphy was all elegance on the outside with her understated diamond earrings and her French manicure, but she had a steely strength as tough as that of her sons. The fire in her light blue eyes right now suggested her maternal radar had gotten wind of a wager in the making.

“Boys?” She intervened discreetly, her gaze moving over each one slowly. “We agreed there would be no resolving disagreements with feats of strength tonight, remember?”

On cue, Kyle flexed his biceps for show. “As if there was any point to that when the winner is so obvious.”

Keith rose to his feet to put her at ease.

“No arguments here, Mom.” He kissed her cheek as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and tossed them on the table. “Jack offered me a chance for a little downtime on the sailboat this week, since I was in the market for a vacation. He offered to take my boat up to Bar Harbor for my company’s chief financial officer to use, while I get to sail the Vesta down to Charleston to meet a guy who wants to buy it. Just a friendly swap.”

Daniel and Axel snickered. Kyle hid his grin behind a champagne glass. And Keith had to pat himself on the back for pulling off this operation so smoothly.

“That’s it?” their mother pressed. “A friendly trade?” She peered around the table, daring any of them to disagree.

Jack rose, staring Keith down for a little longer than was strictly necessary before offering a warm smile to their mom.

“That’s it,” he assured her. He took Keith’s keys and pocketed them. “I’m docked two slips down from you, bro. And since I don’t have one damn thing worth locking up, you won’t need a set of keys to get in. Good luck with a boat that doesn’t come with enough horsepower to fuel a jet engine. Sailing single-handed requires elbow grease.”

Keith yawned to demonstrate what he thought of the warning. “Not a problem. When you cut yourself off from the rest of the world, it’s easy to focus on one thing.” He loosened his tie. “I could use the life of leisure for a week.”

Keith noticed Kyle whistling under his breath at the implication that Jack was taking it easy. But damn it, when was he going to get back to his position at Murphy Resorts?

Jack seemed ready to fire off a retort when their mom extended a peach-silk-covered arm between them and gestured to Kyle, Axel and Danny.

“Speaking of leisure,” she blurted, no doubt to divert them, “there are some lovely young ladies here who would probably enjoy a turn on the dance floor.”

How was that for a segue? His brothers took the bait, standing to attend to their bachelor duties as the band began a swing tune.

Jack’s jaw flexed in an obvious effort to swallow back whatever he’d been about to say. He tapped Keith in the center of his chest. “Your life is only as complicated as you make it, hotshot. I’ll have your boat relocated to Bar Harbor in a few days and leave myself enough time to take in the sights.” He turned to their mother and kissed her cheek. “Mom, it’s been a pleasure. I’ll pay my respects to the happy couple on my way out.”

When he had disappeared into the darkness and out of earshot, Colleen peered up at Keith.

“I don’t suppose you care to tell me what that was all about?” She twisted the small diamond stud in one ear.

“I’m just trying to remind Jack that ignoring the obstacles in life doesn’t make them go away.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and no clue how a week on a spiffed-up catamaran will call to mind any obstacles for Jack.” She tipped her head toward his shoulder to murmur a quiet warning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

He thought about Alicia, who should have already arrived aboard his boat and would quite possibly be safely asleep by now, since he’d warned her he would be late. They’d set a tentative time to talk over the business plan tomorrow afternoon. That was his only regret in his scheme to help Jack confront his past: Keith genuinely had some ideas for her. But he’d prepped a file to email her in the morning, so she wouldn’t be deprived of that input.