Dark sunglasses hid his eyes and his jaw was un-shaven.
Beth didn’t need the boy to tell her his father’s name. It was Charlie Callahan, her ex-husband, looking lean, tanned and even more attractive than he had fifteen years ago.
She had often thought about what they would say to each other when they did finally meet again. Now she knew. There was no, “Hello, Beth, how are you?” No, “It’s good to see you.”
The first words out of Charlie’s mouth were angrily uttered. “What the hell are you doing here?”
CHAPTER THREE
CHARLIE HAD EXPECTED the day would come when he’d meet Beth again. What he hadn’t foreseen was the turmoil of emotion it would create in him. Seeing her standing in front of him, looking as if she’d just crawled out of bed, made him feel as if someone had given him a stiff punch to the gut.
She looked as shocked to see him as he was to see her. Folding her arms across her chest, she demanded, “What do you mean, what am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
Before Charlie could answer her question, Nathan stepped forward. “I tried to tell her it’s your boat, Dad, but she wouldn’t listen. She must have stowed away in the cuddy.”
Charlie didn’t miss the fact that he had once more become “Dad” to the teenager. Or that Nathan showed signs of a vivid imagination. He was looking at Beth as if she could be someone on the run.
“I’m not a stowaway. This happens to be my boat,” Beth stated in a tone that left no doubt that she didn’t appreciate Nathan’s implication that she’d done something illegal.
Nathan looked at Charlie. “Her boat? I thought you said this was your boat.”
“It is—at least, half of it is. The other half is Beth’s. Nathan, this is Beth. Beth, Nathan.” He made the introduction as brief as possible, hoping to avoid the questions that would result if Nathan learned Beth was his ex-wife.
He’d never told the teenager he’d been married. There’d never been any reason to, and until just a few moments ago, it had been a nonissue in his life. Four weeks of marriage hardly qualified as a treasured memory. His summer thing with Beth—which was how his buddies had referred to it—felt as if it had happened in another lifetime.
Only now he was reminded that it had happened. He watched Nathan extend his hand to her, revealing the manners Amy had instilled in him as a child. “How do you do.”
Beth took his hand cautiously, eyeing Charlie suspiciously as she returned Nathan’s greeting.
“You haven’t told me what you’re doing here,” Charlie said to her, trying not to notice that, instead of short curls, her dark hair now hung in long kinky waves that fell to her shoulders in a rather tantalizing way.
“Obviously the same thing you’re doing—using my property.”
He didn’t care for the tone of her voice. Or the fact that he was responding to her scantily clad body. She wore skimpy pajamas made to resemble a T-shirt and shorts—very short shorts. Although she was still slender, there were curves that hadn’t been there fifteen years ago. She’d filled out in all the right places, and Charlie had to force his eyes away from her figure to her face.
She moved over to the windows and asked, “Where’s the pier?”
“In Riverbend.”
“We’re moving?” She pressed a hand to her stomach.
“No, we’re anchored.”
“This boat is supposed to be docked at Riverbend. You had no right to take it—or me—anywhere,” she said haughtily.
“Do you honestly think I would have taken it anywhere if I’d known you were onboard?” he countered. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Ed’s place?”
“Because his guest room is occupied. Grace’s parents are here for the weekend.”
“So you came here to sleep?” he asked in disbelief.
“And why is that so hard for you to believe?”
“You’re not exactly crazy about the water.”
“It didn’t feel as if I was on the water when the boat was moored at the marina. Are you sure we’re anchored?” she asked, her hand flying to her midsection once more.
“We are.” She looked unusually pale, prompting Charlie to ask, “You’re not going to be sick, are you?”
“No, but I need to use the bathroom. Excuse me.” She left in a hurry, slamming the door as she disappeared into the head.
“What’s she doing on a houseboat if she gets seasick?” Nathan asked.
“She said she wasn’t sick,” Charlie answered.
“She looked like she was gonna hurl.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Charlie said, although he really wasn’t sure of anything concerning Beth at this point in his life. When several minutes had passed and she still hadn’t emerged from the head, he went over to the door and knocked. “Beth, are you okay in there?”
“Yes.” The response was muffled. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“For Pete’s sake, Charlie, I said yes, didn’t I?” she snapped.
Maybe she’d changed physically, but emotionally she was still the same old Beth, hating it whenever anyone showed concern for her. She still didn’t want to admit that she needed anybody.
When he returned to the salon, Nathan had flopped down onto the leather sofa, sprawling in the way only a teenager could. “Does this mean we’re going back to Riverbend?” His expression brightened.
“There are places between here and there where she could get off the boat,” Charlie answered, which caused the sullen look to return to Nathan’s face.
“Wait a minute. You’re not dumping me off like some unwanted cargo,” Beth said from behind him.
He turned and saw that she had come out of the bathroom. Her face was still pale, but she looked ready to do battle with him, hands on her hips, eyes flashing.
“I’m not going to dump you anywhere,” Charlie told her.
“No, you’re going to take me back to Riverbend.” It was more of a command than a statement of fact. “Ed’s expecting me to be at the marina, not in the middle of a cornfield.”
“I wouldn’t leave you in a cornfield. I just thought that if the motion of the boat makes you feel sick, you might want to get off upstream. I’m sure Ed wouldn’t mind if he had to drive a little farther to get you.”
“I told you I’m fine,” she insisted. “And you haven’t told me what you’re doing here. Ed said
