One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [44]
He was towering over her, his eyes radiating anger. For a split second she was afraid, wanting to bolt, wondering if she had made a terrible mistake. But her fear quickly gave way to irritation. What the hell was this all about? All she was trying to do was to help him out. He definitely wasn’t a charmer, but he didn’t seem like the type who would smack someone around just for the hell of it. After living with her husband for four years, her antenna for that sort of thing was fairly well tuned. Either way, she’d had enough. Ungrateful son of a bitch.
“Back off! What the hell is your problem? If I thought you were going to attack me I’d have let Tad crush your ass. If you planned on raping me, why on earth would you tell me beforehand? Oh, and yeah, I did save your ass. In case you didn’t notice, Tad was giving you a beating that was about to be the difference between a ride in my car and a ride in an ambulance. Thanks for your appreciation, now get the hell out of my way and start hoofing it to the marina, superman.”
She pushed him back from the door, yanking it open and banging her head as she tried to get inside the small cockpit of her car. She reached over to close the door when he leaned in and stopped her.
“My name’s Pike. Pike Logan.”
“Pike? What, are your parents Romanian vampires or something? Thanks for the information, but at this stage I really don’t give a shit. Please let go of my door.”
“That’s just what I’m called. Look, I apologize. I haven’t had a good day and took it out on you. I could use that ride.”
When she looked back up at his face, she saw the intensity had been replaced by pain and confusion. Maybe shame. She was left with the impression that he hadn’t apologized to anyone in a long time, and he was waiting to see if the gesture was worth it. Shit. I know I’m going to regret this.
“Get in. I’ll take you home.” Once he was settled in the passenger seat, she stuck out her hand and said, “I’m Jennifer Cahill. What’s your real name?”
He took it, saying, “I told you, it’s Pike. Pike Logan.”
She started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, keeping the conversation going. “Really? If I were going to book you for assault, that’s what I’d write down? What was the name written on your birth certificate?”
“I’ve been called Pike for a long time. It’s my name now.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes before she tried again.
“If you live at the marina, you’re either passing through or working as a sailor. Which is it?”
“Neither. I moved here about two months ago. I don’t like paying rent and couldn’t afford a house. A guy was selling a beat-up thirty-seven-foot boat that needed a lot of work. The plumbing was okay, and the slip was paid for a year. I bought it, and now I live there.”
“Wow, that’s pretty romantic.”
“It puts a roof over my head.”
Jennifer waited for more, but he said nothing.
“That’s it? Nobody buys a boat just to live on. They buy it for a reason. Come on, what’s yours?”
She saw him grimace at the question.
“I told you why. There isn’t any deep meaning. It’s just a damn boat. A place to live. Do we have to keep talking about it?”
She let it go. Luckily, they had turned onto Forty-first Avenue and were only seconds from the marina. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.
“All right, we’re here. Where do I go?”
“Just park it anywhere. I can walk in from here. What do I owe you for the ride?”
Jennifer hesitated, and then said, “Does your boat have a bathroom? I really have to go.”
She regretted saying it as soon as it came out. She really just wanted to use the bathroom but was sure he would take it a different way. She didn’t want him to think she was attracted in any way. When she saw his face, she realized that he was embarrassed as well.
“Ahh . . . yes . . . I do have a bathroom, but it’s a dinky thing that requires you to pump it to get it to work, sort of like a floating outhouse. You’re welcome to use it, if you want. Just don’t complain about the mess.”
“Okay. If you don’t mind, I’ll use it and go