The Art of My Life (12 page)

October 24

Well, I did it—dove off the
cliff into my dream. If you don’t hear from me again, I crashed on
the rocks. But the dive arced with graceful abandonment,
performance art at its bravest and most sacrificial. I did this for
myself. But I did it for my friend, too.

Aly at
www.The-Art-Of-My-Life.blogspot.com

Sixty seconds ago Cal had been hugging
Aly, thanking her for possibly the worst business decision she’d
ever make. Then, she went soft in his arms, flowing into his
contours like a summer tide.

Every centimeter of him wanted
her.

He lifted his mouth from where it
pressed against her ear, hungry to find her lips.

Porch light picked up pin pricks of
fear in her eyes.

He stepped back, his hands gripping
her biceps. Fifty-eight degree air sliced between them. “Sorry.” He
looked at the hibiscus bush beside her front door and back at Aly.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out. Just to thank you.” He slid his
hands down the arms of her sweater until they connected with her
fingers. He squeezed and let go.

“
I’m not freaked
out.”

He shot her a wry grin. “Notify your
face.” He backed down the walk. “Good night, Al. See you when you
get off from the bank tomorrow.” He waved and climbed into the
Jeep.

He was all kind of stupid. He’d
bulldozed her into rescuing his business, and then he almost scared
her into changing her mind.

The Jeep’s engine rumbled to life, and
Aly stepped into her condo.

The car motored down Aly’s street. He
needed to get the business rolling before he thought about
rebuilding trust with Aly, getting physical with her. She was
fragile, and he couldn’t risk losing her all together by
misstepping like he’d nearly done tonight.

He careened onto Riverside Drive, too
fast. He jerked back into his lane and slowed. For the hundredth
time he regretted offering up his embarrassingly long-lived
virginity on Evie’s altar. No doubt, Aly feared he’d hurt her
again. He angled into a parking space at the marina.

A lot of guys, maybe most, could enjoy
random sex, but he’d been wired for monogamy. After a while, sex
with Evie felt empty. And he hadn’t counted on the guilt. Or Evie’s
stalking.

The dock gate clanged shut behind
him.

Fish stepped off Evie’s boat and moved
toward him, head down, hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. He
frowned when he saw Cal.

“
I’d stay away from Evie
unless you’ve got a whole lot of energy to burn on a drama
junkie.”

Fish stopped. “I can take care of
myself.”

“
Don’t say I didn’t warn
you.”

“
Don’t do me any more
favors.”

Cal reached a hand toward Fish. “Come
on, forgive me. This is ridiculous. I miss you.”

Fish narrowed his eyes. “What part of
done
don’t you understand?”

“
Geez, Fish, lighten
up.”

“
Bite me.”

“
Hard ass.” Cal strode
toward the
Escape
. Even Fish’s grudge-holding couldn’t
squash the gratitude for a second chance at the business expanding
his chest.

On board he grabbed an art pad, slid
into his desk, and sketched a picture of a man looking skyward
toward a break in the clouds. Light, picking up dust motes in the
air, spilled onto the man’s face, shoulders, and arms that lifted
slightly from his sides. A dark shadow slashed from the figure’s
rear right pocket up and across his back and down his
leg.

He hated taking Aly’s money. It didn’t
matter that she’d planned on giving it away. It didn’t matter that
sixty-two thousand dollars bought Aly full partnership. He hated
needing it so desperately.

He shook off the thought. For the
first time since he’d known her, she was unattached. And she’d
handed him a second chance. This time he’d win.

October 30

Do you ever feel like I do,
that you just want to go back to blank? No matter what, you can’t
get all your mistakes off the canvas. I’ve got like six layers of
white paint over my screw-ups; but, folks, it just ain’t the
same.

Aly at
www.The-Art-Of-My-Life.blogspot.com

Aly’s heels clicked along the
dock.

Cal looked up from the rope he was
coiling and waved.

She hoisted the Stavro’s Pizza box
that warmed her hand. This was a celebration. If Cal did nothing
for her but roust her out of that job, he’d done her a
favor.

The door banged against the cabin of
Zeke’s Ambition
as Fish stepped into his cockpit. “Aly!
Pizza! Come to papa.”

Aly laughed. “Share with
us?”

“
Right. Did I mention
you’re looking smoking hot tonight? So, why don’t you stop by
later. We can, uh, discuss the
Wall Street
Journal
.”

Aly halted mid-stride and narrowed her
eyes at Fish. If she didn’t know him better she’d think he just hit
on her. “Yeah and you’re just looking smoking. You can read the
Wall Street Journal? Who knew? College must be paying off.” She
steered things toward their usual sibling-like banter.

Fish gave her his lopsided grin.
“Funny.”

Her gaze T-boned into Cal’s locked
jaw.

She covered the distance between
Fish’s slip and Cal’s. Something was going on here that she wasn’t
picking up on.

Fish’s, “Later,” sounded behind her as
she handed Cal the pizza and bent to scratch Van Gogh’s
ears.

“
Hey, fella, welcome your
new partner.”

When she looked up, Cal’s face had
relaxed. He popped the box open and inhaled. “Heaven.” He leaned
over and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for signing on. For
pizza.”

The touch ricocheted along her nerve
endings fizzing in every direction. Out of the corner of her eye
she saw Fish looking their way.

She eyed Cal. “What’s going on between
you and Fish?”

“
He’s pissed because I
accidently got him fired from the convenience mart.”

“
And?”

Cal shoved the hatch open. “The pizza
is getting cold.”

Twenty minutes later, Aly pushed her
glasses up on her nose and drew a skull and crossbones next to
e-mail Dad about the charter business
on her to-do list. She
only seemed to be able to walk so far in life without making a
lunge for her father. The little girl inside believed she just had
to wake up his love for her.

She answered a comment on her blog,
then scooted the laptop away on the tiny, built-in desk.

Van Gogh sniffed at her pizza crust,
and she fed it to him.

Cal tossed a sketch pad onto the
table. “You look studious in glasses.”

“
Woke up too late this
morning to put in my contacts.” She glanced at the drawing and
marveled at how perfectly Cal captured the wrinkle in her brow as
she concentrated.

Cal stood. “We need to go over the
estimates I got today on repairing the bow.”

She stared at the portrait, wondering
how Cal managed to communicate her mood on paper, even her
conflicted feelings about her father. A thought floated up from her
subconscious. “You need to paint.” Just like she needed to manage,
make money, to be fulfilled.

He glanced around the cabin, his brows
crinkling. “I’ve painted the entire boat topside, the
hull.”

“
On canvas.”

“
The business has to come
first.”

“
No. Who you are comes
first. What you do comes second. You
are
an artist. You
do
chartering. Promise me you’ll paint thirty minutes a
day.”

He shook his head. “If I had any idea
how bossy, you’d be….” He smiled. “You know I can’t paint just
thirty minutes.”

“
Exactly. If you get your
emotions out on canvas, you’ll be oh-so-much easier to work with.
Go.”

“
You just want me out of
your hair.”

“
I need to think.
Organize. Plan.”

“
Okay already. I’ll be in
my studio at Henna’s if you need me.” He bent over to tie his
tennis shoe, and his sweatshirt rode up. His jeans slipped low on
his hips. He hadn’t gained back the weight he lost in
jail.

Aly saw more of the tattoo on his
lower back than she’d ever seen—blue and green ink ornately
scrolled what might be the top of a heart. The center appeared
hollow. Wavy lines, one on each side of the central tattoo, bore
similar scrolling. No doubt, Cal had designed the tattoo himself.
She’d first noticed it when they were in high school and Cal was
teaching her to surf.

“
What’s your tattoo?” She
said it like she hadn’t wanted to ask him twenty times
before.

Cal straightened, turned toward her.
He stared at her as though debating within himself. A smirk broke
out on his face. His fingers went to the button on his jeans. “You
want me to show you?”

“
No!” Aly felt her face
warm. “You could just tell me.”

Cal scooped his fifty-pound dog and
hefted him through the companionway into the cockpit. “If I wanted
you to know.” He shot her another grin and disappeared through the
hatch.

She rubbed off the gooseflesh Cal had
raised on her arms. If only she could get rid of the wanting he’d
awakened in her body as easily. He hadn’t even touched
her.

If innocence could be packaged and
sold by the pound, she’d need a shopping cart full.

He’d been teasing her about dropping
his pants, but he wouldn’t have joked about it before she spent the
night in his arms. Now, she trembled on a high wire. Being
separated completely from Cal had felt more secure.