faded away. Maybe she would just get drunk at the beach party instead.
No, scratch that. She couldn’t drink until she knew for certain she wasn’t pregnant.
Reece released her the moment the photographer had the shots he wanted, then wandered away to stand by the railing, all alone.
“Poor Reece,” she heard Allie saying to Cooper.
Poor Reece? What about poor Sara? She was the one feeling unappreciated at the moment.
“You never should have let him drink that Scotch,” Allie said, scolding her new husband.
“How was I supposed to know he wouldn’t be able to take his Dramamine if he drank alcohol?”
Sara gasped. Reece wasn’t being cranky and distant on purpose. He was seasick.
With no worries about her pride now, she went straight to him. “Reece?”
He turned, seeming surprised to see her. His complexion was definitely greenish. “Sara. Hi.”
“Don’t look at me, look at the horizon,” she said. “I’ve heard it helps.”
He complied. “So I haven’t done a very good job disguising my delicate condition, eh?”
“I heard Allie and Cooper talking. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”
“It could be worse. At least I’m not hurling.”
“Maybe you would feel better if you ate something.”
If anything, he turned greener. “Ah, no. I don’t think Mexican food is the answer.”
“But I made you up a special enchilada. No peppers, no spices, nothing weird.”
“Can we not talk about food?”
Oh, dear. He really was in a bad way. “Here, give me your hand.” She urged him to release his death grip on the railing. She loved his hands. Big, strong, capable hands, not like those she expected to find attached to an accountant. She flipped his hand over and began a slow massage of the inside of his wrist, digging her thumbs in with no small amount of pressure as she moved them in circles.
“What are you doing?”
“This is an acupressure point for motion sickness,” she explained. “This really works. And if it doesn’t, well, I’ll just kiss you until you’ve forgotten you’re on a boat.”
He turned to look at her, obviously surprised by her boldness.
“Keep looking at the horizon. Take long, slow breaths.”
SARA’S TREATMENT seemed to be working. He shouldn’t be surprised; she’d cured a headache with nothing but her talented hands.
After a couple of minutes of the soothing massage, keeping his gaze focused into the distance like she said and breathing in big lungfuls of fresh sea air, the dizziness began to fade. Maybe the acupressure point really did work. Or maybe it was the fact that Sara touching him anywhere on his body focused his attention, and his blood circulation, well below his head or his stomach.
“The cruise is almost over,” Sara said soothingly.
Strangely, Reece suddenly wasn’t anxious to be back on dry land. He actually found it pleasant, standing here with Sara’s warm, curvy body beside him, her soft voice lulling him.
“Any better?” she asked. “You’ve got more color in your face.”
“Actually, yes. A lot better.” He slipped an arm around her. “Thanks, Dr. Sara. I don’t believe I’ve properly greeted you.”
She looked up at him with a warm smile just for him, her lips moist and rosy, the afternoon sun kissing her face and accentuating the slight dusting of freckles across her nose, and all his plans to make a clean break fell overboard. He swooped down for a kiss that felt like coming home. He didn’t care that half the wedding guests were gawking at them, or that word would surely get back to his father, who would quickly conclude-correctly-that Sara was the reason he’d been in no hurry to return home.
His father could rave and criticize and belittle all he wanted when Reece got back home. His family and the company would have him for the rest of his life. But Sara had him for this weekend.
She’d made him a special enchilada. How sweet was that?
The party barge beached itself on a long stretch of sand adjacent to the Port Clara Country Club. And while it wasn’t closed off to the public, once the wedding guests had disembarked the boat and more had arrived by land, Cooper and Allie pretty much owned the beach.
Sara and Valerie had to stay behind to break down the buffet and pack up the leftovers, but Sara urged Reece to get his feet back on solid ground. “This won’t take long. I’ll rejoin the party shortly.”
“It won’t be a party without you.”
He disembarked with her smile on his mind. If he’d known this was how to cure seasickness, he would have thrown away his Dramamine long ago. Still, he was grateful to reach the end of the gangway and feel the sand beneath his feet. Until the first person to greet him was his uncle Jonathan, Cooper’s father and VP of Legal Affairs at Remington Industries.
Jonathan shook hands with a crushing grip, pumping Reece’s arm so hard he thought his head might fall off. “Reece. Glad you made it on time. I guess my brother made you miss your plane.”
“The meeting ran long, sir,” Reece said diplomatically, although at the time he had wondered if his father was deliberately pontificating in the most long-winded way possible, hoping to cause Reece to miss his flight. He’d never thought of his dad as being passive-aggressive before, but maybe he simply hadn’t seen it.
“So,” Jonathan continued as they made their way toward the tent where the cake was set up at one end and a bartender at the other. “Who’s the girl you were locking lips with?”
Reece was prepared for the question. “Sara. She helps run the bed-and-breakfast where we all stayed when we first came down.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “She carries hospitality a little far, don’t you think?”
Reece didn’t honor the question with an answer.
“You’re not serious about her, are you?”
“No,” he said automatically, but immediately knew he was lying. No matter how unlikely a future with Sara was, what he felt for her could not be labeled trivial. “But I could be. Why, is something wrong with her?”
“I’m sure she’s a very nice girl.” Nice being code for
“Dad.” Cooper had appeared beside them. “Stop torturing Reece. I want you to meet some friends of mine from the Gulf Coast Yacht Club. You’ve been talking about buying a yacht and sailing around the world when you retire, right?”
Jonathan’s interest was instantly diverted and he happily trotted off after his son.
Now that he was on firm ground, Reece was ravenous. He again thought of the special enchilada Sara had prepared for him and wished he’d been able to take advantage of her thoughtfulness. But he suspected more food would soon be available. Already, people were building fires and breaking out the hamburgers and hot dogs. The party looked to be shaping up as similar to the last beach party he’d attended, though he doubted any party could top that one.
His gaze strayed toward the barge, but he saw no sign of Sara.
“She’ll be along.” It was Allie, who had already ditched her veil. The hem of her long, white dress was hitched up and fastened at her hip with some elaborate device so she wouldn’t get it dirty in the sand, and she was barefoot.
“Who?” Reece asked, embarrassed that he was so transparent.
Allie rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. You can dance with me until she shows up.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be dancing with Cooper? I mean, isn’t that traditional?”
“Has anything about this wedding been traditional yet? He’s busy talking boats with rich old men. And to think I was once worried about ever finding a man who loved sailing as much as I do.” While she talked, she dragged Reece toward a group that was already dancing. He didn’t want to be rude, but he had no interest in dancing with anyone but Sara. He smiled just remembering how she’d put her bare feet on top of his shoes.
“So how long are you staying in Port C?” Allie asked.
“I’m flying back Sunday night.” And praying he wouldn’t suffer any delays, because he was cutting it close to make the crucial Monday-morning meeting.
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “I thought you’d stay longer.”
“Allie, I stayed down here for more than a month.”
