Mistletoe in Paradise (Wildstone #5.5) - Jill Shalvis Page 0,22

her a moment to realize his dilemma. He wanted to ask how she was, but didn’t want to hear about last night with James.

Since she didn’t want to tell him any more than he wanted to hear about it, she decided to take the lead. “How are you?”

“Great,” he said.

Great. He felt good and she felt weighed down by the divorce papers still in her cabin. “So.”

“So,” he said with a nod.

She sighed. “Look, this is dumb. Let’s just get this over with. You were drinking pretty heavily last night.”

“We were anchored. I needed to blow off some steam.”

“Okay . . .” So there wasn’t going to be an apology. “How was fishing? Have you seen James?”

“Yeah, and the fishing was great. We caught dinner. Oh, and he told me about his plans to expand. He said I could be one of his subcontractors. He’d book boating adventures using The Therapist when he could. He’s dealing with high rollers, so the profit margin would be amazing.”

“Dad, Mom told me recently that your doctor had asked you to think about slowing down, maybe even selling and retiring. High blood pressure, remember? And clearly the responsibility gets to you, at least sometimes.” Like last night . . .

He waved this off just as her phone buzzed again.

“Should have left that thing in my hat,” Harry said.

She blew out a breath. “It’s my boss, Cynthia. Should only take a sec.”

Harry was sipping his coffee when she finished the call. “Sorry,” she said to Harry. “There might be some more of that today. The case I’ve been working on is going before a judge later. Everything’s ready, but I’ll want to find out how it went.”

He nodded. “I like listening to you. You’re smart, capable. Your work is important to you.”

“Yes.”

He nodded again. “This boat and the ocean are important to me in the same way. I’m not going to stop any more than you’re going to stop trying to save the world.”

She sighed. “I get it.”

James appeared, wearing another pair of board shorts, these a dark navy blue paired with a white T-shirt that read May the Fish Be with You!

Harry pulled a ten from his pocket and waved it at him. “You were right. Your black grouper was bigger by half a pound. Bragging rights are all yours.”

James grinned. “Good to know.”

“Where were you?” Hannah asked him.

He turned to look at her, his eyes behind dark sunglasses, his thoughts hidden. “Figured you were working.”

“Oh, she was,” Harry said ever so helpfully.

“We were going to meet for breakfast,” Hannah said. “I took a quick call while I was waiting, that’s all.”

Which was, of course, when her damn phone began to vibrate again, having a seizure on the table.

James raised a brow.

Harry gave a cough and laughed into his hand.

Hannah stared at the two men in her life as the epiphany hit her in the face. She’d been on both of them about their lifestyle choices, and yet here she was right before Christmas, living at the whim of her phone. “Pot, meet kettle,” she muttered beneath her breath.

“What was that, Smalls?”

Before she could answer, Sally called out from the bridge with a question. Her dad got up to have that conversation, and Hannah tucked her phone away.

“What if you miss something?” James said.

That was the crux of it. She was missing something—life. And it wasn’t like she could do anything more for today’s hearing. “Work can wait a bit,” she said.

For the first time since she’d been in James’s arms the night before, he met her gaze, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head to give her a small but utterly genuine smile that warmed her from toes to roots. He leaned in and put his mouth to her ear. “That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I thought telling you about my crush on you was pretty sexy.”

“You’re right. Scratch that. Everything you say is sexy.”

“Welp.” Harry came back to the table but didn’t sit. “I’m off. I got stuff to do.”

“Wait,” Hannah said. “Can we talk later?”

“What were we just doing?”

Hannah grimaced. “I’ve got more to talk about.”

Harry sighed. “I’m not retiring, Smalls. Period. Now, it’s almost Christmas. We pick up our families in San Juan tomorrow. Fun only for the rest of the trip, you hear me?”

“Come on,” she said slowly. “How realistic is that?”

“I suppose about as realistic as your being here as my gift,” he said. “See you two later. Enjoy your breakfast.” He looked