Her Frog Prince. Shirley Jump
to her life.
If what she had could be considered a life. Lately, she’d had this empty feeling, like she needed more. What more, she couldn’t say. Her twenty-seven years of experience had somehow become a cream puff without any filling.
Or maybe she just needed to eat something better than portabellos for lunch.
“A distraction. Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not believing her. He shoved the throttle of the boat upward and the little craft lunged forward.
Her heart jerked into her throat and her stomach got lost somewhere ten feet back. “You’re going to throw us all out if you keep doing that.” Finally the dock for La Torchere came into view. “You can drop me off right here. I’m staying at the resort.”
“In the main building or one of the villas?”
She glanced at him. The shaggy beard didn’t seem to fit with the appearance of a normal resort visitor. Maybe there was more to Brad Smith than met the eye. “You’ve been there?”
The brim of his hat cast his smirk in shadow. “Oh, once or twice.” He directed the boat to one of the lower-level docks, brought it up against the fenders and tossed a rope onto the cleat, tying it in a quick, secure loop.
“Well, if you’re ever over this way, look me up.” Parris scrambled to her feet, trying to maintain her balance in the tilting boat.
“Need some help?”
“I can manage.” She stepped off the front end of the boat and put one foot up onto the dock. Before she could get her other leg up, an incoming wave shifted the craft. The boat went one way, she went another.
“Wait…oh! No!” Before she could stop it, she was doing a split worthy of an Olympic bronze medalist.
“Let me—” Brad grabbed her hand. Weaving and wheeling her free arm, Parris pushed off the boat with her other leg, trying to use Brad for leverage to hoist herself up to the dock.
“We should—”
“I wouldn’t—”
The two of them tumbled out of the boat and lost their sentences in the water by the pier.
She bobbed up first, then him. “Well, this is fun. Not.” Parris spat the hair out of her face and gave him a glower. “Where did you learn how to park?”
“Probably the same place that taught you proper cruise attire.”
She swam the few feet over to the ladder on the end of the pier and climbed up, with Brad following right behind. Gigi barked encouragement from her place in the boat, which was now drifting back toward the dock. “For your information, I was barefoot when I disembarked.”
“Who uses words like that?” He stood on the pier, dripping wet and looking even scruffier than he had five minutes ago. “‘Disembarked,’ for God’s sake. Just admit it. You fell in because you didn’t listen to me.”
Parris parked her fists on her hips. “I fell in because you didn’t tie up the boat tight enough.”
“No. You fell in because you were too stubborn to wait for me to help you.”
“You are infuriating! I deal with far less childish people than you in Hollywood.”
He arched a brow at her. “You work with celebrities?”
“Sometimes. I’m a personal consultant. I help them look, act and sound better.” A fib, not an outright lie. She had helped her friend Liza get ready for that audition. Liza had nabbed the part, so surely that counted.
Brad started to laugh. And laugh. And laugh until Parris was quite tempted to shove him off the pier and leave him for the sharks. “What’s so funny?”
“You. Helping people. What do you do? Bully them?”
“For your information, my clients are very happy with my services. I have many success stories.” Okay, that one was an outright lie. She’d barely worked in the business since her father had turned Hammond Events and Consulting over to her and Jackie. But she was sure, given the right chance, she could do a good job. Probably. “I could even make you over. Not that it wouldn’t be a challenge, but—”
Brad took a step forward until he was inches away from her. Up close, he didn’t look so bad dripping wet. His clothes clung to him, accenting every plane and muscle. She’d been wrong about his lack of manliness. If anything, he was more male than any man she’d ever known. Too bad he drove her up a wall.
He pointed at her chest. “You are the most aggravating woman I have ever met.”
Give a man some beauty tips and he turns on you. “And you have all the personality of a wolverine.”
He glowered at her. She glowered back.
Brad opened his mouth to speak again, but Parris wasn’t going to listen to another personal attack. She’d had quite enough of that, thank you very much. She thrust out her arms and shoved him as hard as she could.
Too late, the words he’d started to speak permeated the anger in her mind and she realized he’d been saying he was sorry. Before she could do anything to stop it, he stumbled back, arms wheeling, and fell into the Gulf.
Again.
Whoops. Not the best way to repay him for rescuing her.
Parris peeked over the pier and caught Brad’s reddened face and narrowed eyes. His ball cap had fallen off his head and was floating away, just out of reach.
He didn’t seem sorry anymore. In fact, he looked pretty mad. From the boat, Gigi let out several barks.
“Do you, ah, need some help getting out of there?”
“Not from you!” He started swimming for the ladder.
“Listen, I’m really sorry. I acted without thinking. If there’s any way I can ever make it up to you—”
His answering glare told her he wasn’t interested in any favors. Probably better to leave. She had a feeling he didn’t want her within ten feet of him right now.
“Well, thanks for the ride. And hey, look at the bright side,” Parris said. “If a squid happens by, you’ll be in the right place!”
Chapter Two
Brad Smith wasn’t a fisherman, but he was one of the few men Merry figured could stand toe-to-toe with Parris and win. She closed her magical cell phone, blessing the powers that allowed her to keep tabs on her matchmaking efforts from afar, and settled back in the deck chair.
Getting Parris a happy ending wasn’t an impossible task. But it wasn’t going to be an easy one, either. Still, she’d done quite well with Jackie and Steven, and Ruthie and Diego, who would be celebrating their marriage soon. Maybe this wasn’t out of her reach.
And maybe Miss Prissy Parris could learn a lesson or two about life, love and acceptance out of the whole thing. A real happy ending.
Yes, Bradford Smith and Parris Hammond. It could work. Right?
Brad stepped out of the shower and swiped the steam off the mirror. He stared at the reflection before him and realized a hard, sad truth. Parris Hammond had a point. One he’d done a good job of ignoring until she’d gone and brought it up.
There wasn’t a hell of a lot of difference between Brad the sea-roughened marine biologist and Brad the cleaned-up version. He still looked like something that had washed up at low tide with the kelp and dead crabs.
Aw, hell. The meeting with the research foundation was only ten days away. His research was good and solid, the specimens he’d collected well preserved, but the biologist…well, Brad had to admit he’d gotten a little rough around the edges lately.
He rubbed his beard. Okay, a lot. Jeez, no wonder Parris Hammond had recoiled from him like a third-grader