Megan's mate

I wasn't looking for you, either,

Megan. My own course was plotted out just fine. You changed everything for me.

So you're going to have to adjust your nice neat columns and make room for me.

Because I love you, and I'm going to have you. You and Kevin are going to belong to me.

He released her.

Think about it,

he said, and walked out.

Idiot. Nathaniel continued to curse himself as he spun his wheels pulling up in front

of Shipshape. Obviously he'd found a new way to court a woman: Yell and offer ultimatums. Clearly the perfect way to win a heart.

He snatched Dog out of the back seat and received a sympathetic face bath.

Want

to get drunk?

he asked the wriggling ball of fur.

Nope, you're right, bad choice.

He stepped inside the building, set the dog down and wondered where he might find an alternative.

Work, he decided, was a wiser option than a bottle.

He busied himself with an engine until he heard the familiar blat of a horn. That would be Holt, bringing in the last tour of the day.

His mood still sour, Nathaniel went out and down to the pier to help secure lines.

The holiday's bringing in a lot of tourists, Holt commented when the lines were

secured.

Good runs today.

Yeah.

Nathaniel scowled at the throng of people still lingering on the docks.

I

hate crowds.

Holt's brow lifted.

You were the one who came up with the Fourth of July special to lure them in.

We need the money.

Nathaniel stomped back into the shop.

Doesn't mean I have

to like it.

Who's ticked you off?

Nobody.

Nathaniel took out a cigar, lit it defiantly.

I'm not used to being

landlocked, that's all.

Holt very much doubted that was all, but, in the way of men, shrugged his acceptance and picked up a wrench.

This engine's coming along.

I can pick up and go anytime.

Nathaniel clamped the cigar between his teeth.

Nothing holding me. All I got to do is pack a bag, hop a freighter.

Holt sighed, accepted his lot as a sounding board.

Megan, is it?

I didn't ask for her to drop in my lap, did I?

Well...

I was here first.

Even when he heard how ridiculous that sounded, Nathaniel couldn't stop.

Woman's got a computer chip in her head. She's not even my type, with those neat little suits and that glossy briefcase. Who ever said I was going to settle down heie, lock myself in for life? I've never stayed put anywhere longer than a month since I was eighteen.

Holt pretended to work on the engine.

You started a business, took out a mortgage.

And it seems to me you've been here better than six months now.

Doesn't mean anything.

Is Megan dropping hints about wedding bells?

No.

Nathaniel scowled around his cigar and snarled.

lam.

Holt dropped his wrench.

Hold on a minute. Let me get this straight. You're thinking of getting married, and you're kicking around here muttering about hopping a freighter and not being tied down?

I didn't ask to be tied down, it just happened.

Nathaniel took a deliberate puff,

then swore.

Damn it, Holt, I made a fool of myself.

Funny how we do that around women, isn't it? Did you have a fight with her?

I told her I loved her. She started the fight.

He paced the shop, nearly gave in to

the urge to kick the tool bench.

What happened to the days when women wanted to get married, when that was their Holy Grail, when they set hooks for men to lure them in?

What century are we in?

The fact that Nathaniel could laugh was a hopeful sign.

She thinks I'm moving too

fast.

I'd tell you to slow down, but I've known you too long.

Calmer, he took up a ratchet, considered it, then set it down again.

Suzanna took

her lumps from Du-mont. How'd you get past it?

I yelled at her a lot,

Holt said, reminiscing.

I've tried that.

Brought her flowers. She's got a real weakness for flowers.

Which made him think

that perhaps he'd stop on the way home and pick some up.

I've done that, too.

Have you tried begging?

Nathaniel winced.

I'd rather not.

His eyes narrowed curiously.

Did you?

Holt took a sudden, intense interest in the engine.

We're talking about you. Hell,

Nate, quote her some of that damn poetry you're so fond of. I don't know. I'm not good at this romance stuff.

You got Suzanna.

Yeah.

Holt's smile spread.

So get your own woman.

Nathaniel nodded, crushed out his cigar.

I intend to.

Chapter 10

The sun had set by the time Nathaniel returned home. He'd overhauled an engine and repaired a hull, and he still hadn't worked off his foul mood.

He remembered a quote Horace, he thought about anger being momentary insanity. If you didn't figure out a way to deal with momentary insanity, you ended up in a padded room. Not a cheerful image.

The only way to deal with it, as far as he could see, was to face it. And Megan. He was going to do both as soon as he'd cleaned up.

And she'll have to deal with me, won't she?

he said to Dog as the pup scrambled

out of the car behind him.

Do yourself a favor, Dog, and stay away from smart women who have more brains than sense.