Page 17 of Building Courage

Brynn studied the house. The only thing making its appearance different from the twenty or so others she’d passed was the privacy fence running along the side of the property, the dark blue shutters, and the huge pot of fuchsia petunias sitting on a metal pedestal table next to the front door. She eased into the driveway next to the black Jeep already parked there and turned off the engine.

Nerves curled inside her belly, and she drew a deep breath. She’d been thinking about Tucker Giles off and on since they’d parted ways at the park.

She hadn’t wanted to think about him. Hadn’t wanted to pick apart their interaction to look for any hidden undercurrent. But she had. Just to be sure she hadn’t missed anything.

Once again, she was allowing one event in her life to paint her interactions with him with the dark brush of distrust. When he’d called her on the phone to introduce himself instead of approaching her in the park, he’d gone out of his way to avoid making her uncomfortable.

He’d been straightforward and professional, projecting confidence and a rock steadiness she found appealing. His sea-green eyes seemed to take things in as completely as her camera. He’d shown her courtesy by walking her to her car. He was a good guy. She believed that.

So why was she still sitting in the car?

A gate in the fence swung inward, and Tucker walked through. His mid-thigh length jean cut-offs hugged his narrow hips and showcased long muscular legs. His plain white T-shirt did nothing to hide the wide chest and broad shoulders sculpted by hard training and possibly weight lifting. Angels had surely had a hand in it, too. She couldn’t wait to photograph him. Sunglasses hid his eyes, but a slight smile played across his mouth and wreaked havoc with her hormones.

She shoved her sunglasses on to hide her expression, unlocked the car door, and got out.

“You didn’t have any trouble finding the house, did you?” Tucker asked.

“No, I have GPS.” She opened the back door to retrieve the bag that held her gear.

“Leave your gear in the car. You can unload it later. We’re going shopping.”

She shut the door and rested her elbows on top of the vehicle. “That’s music to every woman’s ears, but most guys don’t like to go with us while we shop.”

His grin stole her breath, stomped right past her emotional inhibitions, and triggered a heated tingle in places that hadn’t felt anything in a long time. She was glad she’d put on her sunglasses.

“We’re going shopping for your gear. I have a couple of spare tanks, so we won’t have to refill ours after our dive today, but you’re going to need all your own equipment. You’ll be able to take it with you to Australia.”

“And how much will all this cost?”

“About a thousand dollars. Maybe a little more.”

Not as much as she’d been expecting, but still a chunk. “And Natalie is footing the bill for this?”

“Yeah. It’s actually cheaper to buy equipment than to rent it repeatedly,” he said. “It’s better to have your own and get comfortable with it. Learn how to take care of it.”

If something happened and she couldn’t make Australia…? What then?

She’d have to reimburse the magazine for the expense of the equipment and the lessons. The idea of asking him how much she was paying him made her uncomfortable.

“Get in. I’ll drive,” she said.

She liked the fact that he didn’t argue or make a remark about women drivers—unlike her brothers, who complained every time she drove them anywhere just to get a rise out of her.

“I’ll need you to tell me when to turn. I’m directionally challenged,” she said as she backed out into the street and shifted the car into drive.

He chuckled at the phrase.

“It’s the one thing I’m anxious about. What if I get lost underwater and can’t find my way back to land or the boat.”

“Natalie said she was hiring experienced people to monitor your bottom time. But we’ll get a compass, and I’ll show you how to find your way back to a fixed position.”

She glanced at him to find him studying her. “Good luck. I’ve gotten lost in a parking lot at the mall.”

He chuckled. “You need to turn right onto the next street.”

She concentrated on following his directions and soon found herself in more familiar territory.

“I think I hear a slight southern drawl when you speak,” she said. “Where are you from?”

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