Free Suspicious Ways by Lexxie Couper

had mentioned Jenny never came to the marina anymore, not since Andrew’s death, and speculated whether Ali and her mom no longer spoke. Was he right? They had been so close. How could it happen?
    He suppressed a bitter sigh, just as their waiter returned to take their order. “I remember you liking seafood,” he said when Ali ordered a simple green salad.
    A dry smile moved her lips. “I love it. My bank account doesn’t.”
    “It’s my treat.”
    Ali’s shoulders tensed, chin tilting slightly as she regarded him with unreadable eyes. “Thank you, but I think I already owe you enough.”
    A brittle silence stretched between them, broken only by the arrival of Jack’s entrée and a tall glass of ice water for Ali.
    “How did your studies go?” he finally asked, needing to get the evening back to plan. She’d been halfway into her second year of a Bachelor of Design degree at Sydney University when Andrew died, well on her way to becoming an industrial designer of incredible talent. Surely he couldn’t get himself into trouble asking about her degree?
    Ali looked back at him, her brilliant blue eyes steady. “I withdrew. After Dad’s death it was impossible for me to study and run a charter business at the same time, and I just couldn’t afford the tuition fees.”
    Jack groaned under his breath. So much for a trouble-free topic. “Ali, I’m sorry.”
    She gave him a small shrug. “How could you have known? It’s not like we’ve spoken since Dad’s funeral.” She turned her head, studying the fluid movements of the waiters as they moved from table to table, offering pepper and removing used plates and cutlery. Jack ran his hands through his hair, a scowl pulling at his eyebrows. This isn’t going well.
    Ali’s soft laugh came from across the table and her lips curled into a gentle smile. “You know,” she turned back to him, “with the string of famous women you’ve dated, I always thought you’d be better at this.”
    “Better at what?”
    “This whole seduction thing.”
    A sudden bolt of tight pleasure shot through Jack, straight into the pit of his stomach. “Is that what you want me to do? Seduce you?”
    Her smile widened. “No. But isn’t that what you planned?”
    Their meals arrived, saving Jack from fumbling through an answer. But the damage was done. Scenario after delicious scenario whipped through his head, each finishing with Ali crushed against his body, their limbs entwined, their skin slicked with perspiration.
    “Seriously,” Ali interrupted the wild fantasies in his mind, “how was Florida?”
    “Good,” he answered, glad for the diversion. His trousers were getting snug again and the room started to feel hot. Too hot. “There is a very large market for maxi yachts in the U.S.”
    “What was your clientele like?”
    “Mostly businessmen with more money than good sense, wanting to out-do their rivals.” Jack grinned. “A he-who-dies-with-the-most-toys-wins sort of thing. The irony is most of the buyers will never have the time to enjoy my work. The yacht will sit in a pen somewhere, lucky to be taken out for a motor every month or so.”
    “Doesn’t that make you angry?” Ali herself looked quite irritated about the situation.
    “It did for a while,” he admitted. “But every now and again I’d get a serious sailor commission a boat, someone who knew the difference between a gaff and a gudgeon, and I’d know that yacht at least would sail around the world. That it would fight it out in the Gerlache Strait or glide around the Greek Isles. My last job was for an oil tycoon wanting to beat the ‘round-the-world-solo record’.”
    There was a brief pause as Ali moved her salad around with her fork. “Are you going back?”
    “It depends.”
    “On what?”
    Jack fought to keep his voice calm. “On what happens here.”
    Her gaze met his, her eyes more sapphire-blue than ever. “What do you want to happen here, Jack?”
    Chest constricted and heavy, Jack