Without a Hitch(82)

“Oh, it’s nothing. Really. I guess I’m still getting my sea legs. I swayed when the ship rocked and nicked myself with the knife. I’m sorry. I should have bandaged it better.”

I’m already out of my seat, dragging the girl behind me.

“Tilly.” I pause at Lochlan’s command, but he isn’t mad. When I turn, he appears concerned.

“Sorry. Sometimes I just jump into action without thinking,” I explain to the group sheepishly.

“You go ahead and get started. This cut is pretty deep, and she needs an extra set of hands to wrap it properly. I’ll be back soon.”

He stares at me, slightly bewildered, and I notice Ross watching him closely. Silently, I nod. “Do you need help?” he finally asks.

“Are you good with first aid, Lochlan?”

“Ah.” He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “No, actually. I fainted the first time Nova got a bloody nose.” When he reaches up to pull on his earlobe, I blow him a kiss.

“I’ll be right back. You guys start eating. No worries. I’ve got this. My sister made sure we all knew first aid at a very young age.”

Lochlan tilts his head at this information, and I see all the concerns that statement brings play across his face. He takes a step forward, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

“We’ll be right back.” He’s searching my face for something, and I guess he finds it because he nods and slowly lowers himself back to his seat.

Turning to the girl at my side, I ask, “What’s your name?”

“Sara. I’m so sorry…”

“No apologies. Accidents happen. Let’s just get it cleaned up. Okay?” Her worried gaze bounces between me and the rest of my party. “Don’t worry about them. They’re more than capable of serving themselves. Trust me, they’ll be fine.”

Ushering her forward, I lead her toward the rear of the vessel. “It’s just that he’s so…intense,”

she finally whispers.

I gape at her. “Who? Lochlan?”

“Mr. Blaine?” She startles, and I know I’ll find him at my back if I turn. Warmth spreads throughout my body knowing he couldn’t stay away. He’s kinder than he gives himself credit for.

“Don’t worry about him,” I say conspiratorially. “His bark is worse than his bite.” I feel more than hear him chuckle behind me. “He’s a big teddy bear. His scowling angry persona is simply a defense mechanism.” We reach the sink, and I turn her palm over so I can remove the dirty bandage.

Sara’s gaze is still darting back and forth, so I know Lochlan is nearby.

“If that’s true,” Sara whispers, “I don’t know how you handle his bite. His glare alone has scared off every other crew member. I drew the short stick.”

I hear him scoff and can’t hold back a giggle as I turn toward him. “That’s what you get for eavesdropping, lover.”

“I’ll take it,” he growls. “It’s better if they don’t get too close. Are you all set?” I don’t have time to question what he means because I hear John and Dory calling out.

“Is everyone all right back there?”

“Tilly?”

“We’re good,” I answer. “Go eat. I’ll be there soon.”

He answers with an uncomfortable nod, then retreats to the cabin.

“Intense,” Sara mutters.

She doesn’t know the half of it.





C HAPTE R 31

LOCHLAN

“S he’s a caretaker,” Ross comments as we make our way off the boat.

As a general rule, talking like this makes my head explode with the effort of keeping the skin from crawling off my body. Especially with business associates, because altruism in business does not exist. People are out for themselves, end of story.

But there is something about John Ross that I connect with, so I swallow my practiced curt quip and reply, “She is.”

My gaze drifts ahead to where Tilly laughs arm in arm with Doreen.

“Can I be honest with you, Lochlan?” His tone is contrite and gives me pause, but my game face stays firmly in place, my gaze locked on Tilly.

“I prefer it that way.”

“I thought you might. I had my reservations about you.” My jaw ticks, but otherwise I take great care not to show my irritation. “The truth is, the circle we run in is small, but the talk is plentiful. The gossip surrounding you since your divorce has not shown you in a positive light.”

“Gossip is stories created of non-truths by jealous people,” I say calmly, even though internally I’m preparing for a battle.

“Are they?” He questions with a hint of humor, and I stop walking. I stand tall with arms hanging rigidly at my sides. It’s a stance I’ve perfected over the years, and it tells everyone within my orbit not to fuck with me. Any passerby would see a confident man. Anyone who causes me to react this way knows differently. They see a man ready to burn you to the ground. I casually flex my hands to release some of the tension building from this conversation. The last thing I need is for John Ross to question my self-control.

“Yes, John. I have no private life for gossips to shred. The life they have access to is my professional one, and I provide for my employees as I would my family. No one messes with my family.”