Crazy For Love. Victoria Dahl
“We found a brochure at the grocery store.”
His heart lurched again, slamming into his chest wall as if it wanted him to do something about this ridiculousness. A grocery store. Unbelievable. His skin prickled with icy sweat, but Max tried to talk himself down.
You don’t even know this girl. If she’s dumb enough to sign up for a dive with a stranger, it’s none of your business. This is not your responsibility.
But she was so sweet and peaceful. A good soul. And how was she supposed to know how dangerous diving could be?
“You know,” Max heard himself say, “Elliott’s only been diving a couple of times. Would it be weird if we signed up? I don’t want to crowd you or anything, but you’re right. Forecasts call for calm seas tomorrow, but God knows what the weather will be like later.”
She shrugged. “It’s not a private dive. If you two want to come along, feel free. But surely there’s nothing out here that would interest someone with your experience.”
“Diving is addictive,” he lied. “I can’t live without it. It’ll feel good to get the gear on.”
Chloe set her beer down and leaned forward, a sparkle in her eye that could’ve been a reflection of the fire, but looked more like mischief. As if she knew a secret. Max held his breath. She got close enough to whisper.
“Fishing is just too darn boring for you, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” He sighed on a rush of air. “Yeah, it’s hard to stay awake in that little boat.”
She laughed, stirring the air against his ear. “I’m not a big fan of excitement, but I probably shouldn’t tell you that.”
No. No, she shouldn’t tell him that, because Max felt himself leaning toward her, an unwilling shift of his muscles. She didn’t like adventure. Despite that welcome news, he wasn’t going to kiss her, not in front of his brother and her friend, but his body wanted closer to that oasis of calm.
Her eyes sparkled again. She glanced down, her gaze touching his lips. Firelight danced over the soft skin of her cheek, as if it were mocking him, touching her where Max couldn’t.
Aw, damn. In public or not, he was about to kiss her. And he was already too involved, inserting himself into her life for no good reason at all.
No. He wouldn’t do it. One dive trip, and then he’d cut the unwelcome threads he’d already tied between them.
Max grabbed the bag of marshmallows as if that had been his goal all along. “Honestly,” he said, popping a sugary puff into his mouth. “I’m a pretty boring guy.”
Her eyes flashed suspicion. She didn’t think he was telling the truth, but for once in his life, he was.
JENN WATCHED ELLIOTT SULLIVAN’S EYES as he spoke about his work. He dismissed it as boring, something she wouldn’t want to hear about, but she found it fascinating. He’d done an internship at the CDC labs in Atlanta during college, and he’d gone to work as one of their scientists as soon as he’d graduated from medical school. Just that would have widened Jenn’s eyes with amazement, but he hadn’t stopped there.
After working for five years on studying flu vaccines and antiviral drugs, Elliott had moved up to the D.C. offices to work with the CDC branch of Health and Human Services, preparing for and fighting global outbreaks of the disease. He was like a modern-day superhero, working every day to save lives.
He paused as if he’d finished a point, and Jenn realized she’d been too busy staring to hear what he’d said. A blush rose up her face. He was waiting for an answer and she didn’t know what to say.
Elliott’s face fell. “But enough of that—”
“You’re amazing,” she blurted out. “I mean…what you do? That’s amazing.”
“I…” He shifted, taking his glasses off and putting them back on. “It’s just a lot of paperwork.”
“But it’s…” She wouldn’t tell him it was like being a superhero. That would be ridiculous and geeky and all the things she normally was with a man. And she didn’t want to be ridiculous with Elliott. He was serious and smart. Jenn took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “What you do is so important.”
“Ah, well. So is maintaining the sewer system.”
He said it like it was a joke he’d heard before, but Jenn laughed in shock. “What?”
“Actually the sewer workers are more important. If cholera made a comeback, no one would be worried about the flu.”
“You’re hilarious!”
“Really?” he asked, then shook his head. “I’m thinking you don’t get out much.”
“That’s true,” Jenn agreed, “but you’re still funny.”
It was impossible to tell if he was blushing. The firelight bathed them all in warm yellows and golds. But he did look embarrassed as he leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the armrest.
Jenn’s heart pattered in her chest. He was out of her league, of course. A successful scientist. A serious man with an important job who happened to be cute, too. She had a sudden urge to ask if he was married. He wasn’t wearing a ring, but sometimes that meant nothing. She couldn’t just ask, though. That question was loaded with all sorts of hints and suggestions.
Now she didn’t know what to say, and he seemed lost in thought, probably happy she’d stopped talking. But what if—
“Maybe it’s all those accountants you hang out with.”
“What?”
“Maybe you’ve spent so much time with them that you find bad science jokes funny.”
“Ha! Maybe. But I’ll have you know I work on international auditing. We’re like the 007s of corporate accounting. Last year’s seminar was in Hong Kong.”
“Wow!” he exclaimed, and suddenly Jenn felt ridiculous. He’d probably been to Asia a dozen times. He probably traveled all over the world for his work.
She was so awful with men. She always had been.
“So—” Elliott started, but Jenn jumped up to her feet.
“Pardon me for a moment. I’ll be right back.”
It was her dad’s fault, she thought as she walked toward the cabin stairs. He’d been a high-level salesman, selling multimillion-dollar pieces of equipment to factories all over the globe. A slick talker who thought that the world revolved around him. And he’d traveled for weeks at a time, gone more often than he was home. Jenn had suffered a bad case of hero worship for her handsome father, desperate to be close to him whenever he was home, yet unable to think of anything to say that could engage his interest. Of course, it didn’t matter who was talking. Her father had a habit of starting a story right in the middle of another person’s sentence.
He was good at talking. And really, really bad at being a father. Or a husband.
She rushed onto the porch and through the door, relieved once she was alone. She was fine around her girlfriends. Completely normal and just as interested in men as they were. She could talk the talk, joking about having sex with hot strangers, but she failed miserably at walking the walk. Once she became interested in a man, her brain stopped working properly. Horrifying, not just because it was embarrassing, but because she was smart and independent and capable in all areas but this one.
Needing a few minutes alone, Jenn slowly washed her hands to get the last of the marshmallow off them. She stared at the mirror, hating the delicate features that often attracted the wrong kind of man. Wolflike men who looked at her and saw weakness and vulnerability. Elliott Sullivan didn’t seem like that kind of man, which was why he wouldn’t make a move. He probably liked strong scientist women in intimidating glasses and trim lab coats. Women who could talk