Chapter 3: Finding A Way Out

Brandon lounged on the sofa with his legs crossed at the ankles. From where he lay, he had a perfect view of Tracy sitting cross-legged in Indian fashion, dressed in her nightwear T-shirt and the new panties that he'd helped her shop for that afternoon. With her hands resting on her upper thighs, he couldn't see her sex, but the intricate lacy waistband that stopped halfway between the top of her mound and her navel let him know that his sister was definitely all woman.

"Brandon, you were throwing around some pretty big numbers yesterday when we met Celeste. Did you mean it when you said you'd spend ten thousand dollars to get us started if we'd stayed together?"

"Tracy, if it took half a million to get you two into something safer than she's in now, I'd have gone that far without a second's hesitation," he informed her.

"How much money do you have, for Pete's sake?"

"Not sure, Sis. I haven't looked at the portfolio for a couple of months. All I know is that, after taxes, brokerage and transfer fees, and a few other miscellaneous odds and sods, it pays me about twenty grand."

"That's what? Somewhere around sixteen hundred a month?" she did some quick math.

"Why? What difference does it make? We have a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, and food in our bellies. What more do we need?"

"I was just trying to figure out how you'd come up with ten thousand dollars to give away. That's an awful lot of money, Brandon."

"Do you really need to know, Pip-squeak? I promised you that I'd open up my feelings. I didn't say anything about my wallet, did I? But if you want, I can show you the books."

"No, I guess I really don't need to know, but I'd like to, just to satisfy my curiosity. If I'm draining your bank account, like we did today when you took me shopping, I'm going to feel guilty as hell. I don't want to be a financial burden. So if I ever am, you'll let me know, won't you?"

"Probably not. Money is something I don't have to worry about too much, Tracy. I worked my ass off to get to this point in my life, but if I can't enjoy it, what was the sense? And if part of that enjoyment is in buying nice things for my sister, would you take that away from me?"

"That's not what I mean and you know it. But promise me that you'll let me know if I become a burden to you? Whether it's financial or anything else? I never want to be in that position."

"Okay, if you insist, I'll let you know when you're being a pain in the ass. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"No, but it's as close as I'll get, I guess. But you do spoil me."

There were several minutes of silence as Brandon contemplated telling her more, while Tracy continued to worry about his financial resources and how far those resources would take them.

"Pip-squeak, for what it's worth, a month," he broke the silence.

"What's a month?" she couldn't understand what he was telling her.

"Twenty grand. A month. That's what we have coming in at the moment."

"Twenty?! Thousand?! Dollars?! A month?!" She broke up each word in her shock. "That's more than I've ever seen in a year! How much money do you have?"

"I'm not sure. I'd have to look it up. But does it matter, really? Like I said, we have food, shelter, and clothing. The rest is just incidentals. Tell you what. I'll look after the money side of it, and you look after whatever it is that little sisters look after when they're sailing around the world with their brothers. That sound fair?"

Tracy still had that far-away look of confusion, and he left her to whatever contemplations were roaming around inside that pretty little head of hers.

"How's the new lingerie working out?" he enquired, changing the subject to something lighter.

"They're super comfortable, amazingly," she happily expressed. "I thought they might be a little scratchy before the first washing, but they're not. And I still say you paid too much for all that stuff. Five hundred dollars? I don't spend that much in a whole year on clothes!"

"It's about time you did, Sis. Those panties you had on? I'm surprised they didn't fall apart on you. How long did you have them? Since graduation, maybe?"

"Shut up, Brandon!" she scolded him, but with no malice in her voice. "I'll have you know that they were only five years old. They just don't make underpants like they used to, that's all."

"No, I guess burlap has been out of fashion for a while now, hasn't it?" he joked.

"Goof!" she cursed him, then unfolded her legs, got off the bed, and walked over to where he reclined.

"Have I ever mentioned that I love you?" she issued in that soft voice he so loved to hear.

"I think I heard a rumour to that effect," he snickered to her.

'I'll rumour you, in a minute!" she threatened mischievously.

Before she could react, Brandon wrapped an arm around her legs just above her knee and pulled her down to the sofa. Tracy instinctively rolled to keep from hitting her head on the back of it, landing on the edge of the seat, and was held there by her brother's grip. With her lips mere inches away, he stretched up and planted his on her pouty ones.

"Now, you were saying?" he teased her some more after they broke apart.

"Are you trying to compromise my virtue?" she laughingly teased him back.

"Hadn't thought about it before, but now that you've brought it up... " he suggestively told her.

"Forget it, Buster!" she tried to intimidate him. "Besides, you need a shower."

"You're no bed of roses yourself, young lady. I'd race you for it, but you wouldn't stand a chance."

"Oh really? Try me!"

It was a good thought, but Brandon already had the advantage over her. Before she could struggle out of his grasp, he was up on his feet and had her draped over his shoulder.

"Put me down, you big goon!" she called out in shock.

"Told you that you couldn't win, didn't I? Maybe I should just stick you in the closet, and leave you there until I'm finished my shower. How's that grab you?" he continued to tease.

Tracy pounded his back with her fists, not a particularly effective tactic to secure an escape from her brother's hold, but she really didn't want him to let her go anyway. Playfully, he gave her backside a light swat in answer to her assault.

"You'd better settle down, Pip-squeak, or the next one might hurt."

"Sister abuse! Sister abuse!" she laughingly giggled, then decided it was time to get even.

With her arms now dangling down his back, Tracy slid a hand under the waistband of Brandon's boxers, grabbed a handful of butt cheek, then squeezed, digging her nails into his flesh in the process.

"Oww! That hurts! You trying to get me angry? I'll paddle your butt if you do that again!"

It was a threat that Tracy couldn't pass up, and she pinched his ass once more.

"That's it!" he mockingly warned her, then gave her another good swat, although not hard enough to be painful. As much as he enjoyed wrestling with his sister like this, he'd never hurt her, and Tracy knew it. Her brother might be strong enough to take on almost anything or anyone, but he treated her like she was fragile porcelain – most of the time.

"You want the shower first, Sis?" he broke from their playful mood.

"Put me down, you big galoot!" she enjoined him. And when he did, she immediately encircled his neck with her arms, then pulled him to her lips. "We could always share," she suggestively hinted between light kisses.

"No we couldn't. You're my sister, and we're not allowed to do things like that. Remember?"

"Brandon, are we ever going to make love? Do you have any idea how badly I want you? And I know you want me, too. I've felt you against my stomach. If you think I'm going to spend two years being horny and unsatisfied, you're out of your mind," she pleaded with him.

"They have laws against that sort of thing, Sis. Are you asking me to do something illegal?" he baited her.

"Brandon Winters, you're impossible!" she screeched at him in no uncertain terms. "Maybe I should have stayed with Celeste!"

"If that's what you want, Sis, I won't stop you. We've discussed that before."

"You know what I want, Brandon," her exasperation came out in her words. "Why are you being such a hard-ass about this?"

"Because, like I said, there are laws against what you have in mind. But if we were in International waters, those laws wouldn't apply, would they? So, the sooner we find a boat, get her ready to go around the world, then get out of here, the sooner you'll get your wish. It's called incentive, Pip-squeak," he replied in a semi-serious tone.

"O-o-h-h-h-h!" she growled in her frustrated anger. "I'll show you incentive in a minute! What the hell do I have to do, rape you?"

"Not possible. How do you get a man aroused when he's not up to it?" he tried to lighten her mood some, not succeeding in the slightest.

"Get in that shower!" she ordered him, thinking about sneaking in while he was under the spray. If she could get close to his body, he'd be hers – and she'd be his. For Tracy Keelson, there didn't seem to be anything more important in the world at the moment than to be her brother's woman, or to make him her man.

The sound of the bathroom door locking defeated that idea, she realized, and Tracy returned to her Indian position on the bed, sulking and pouting as she felt the frustrations inside slowly come to the surface.

Brandon came back out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, holding the door open for his petulant sister as he ushered her through the portal. She didn't quite stomp her feet, but she was close to doing so. He gave her backside another light swat, just to let her know that he was very aware of her femininity, and in his eyes, her beauty.

Like her brother, Tracy was back out of the bathroom in short order, now dressed in a different T-shirt, one that was a little smaller than the one he'd lent her. While it sat a bit higher on her thigh and showed more of her firm leg, it was also impossible to miss her perky breasts straining against the fabric enough to clearly outline themselves to Brandon's hungry eyes, and he was well aware of that soft, protruding curve of her backside.

"You're going to stretch that shirt so badly that I won't be able to wear it any more, aren't you?" he softly accused her.

"I could always take it off, if that's what you want," she snarled, not hearing the warmth and want in her brother's voice.

"Come here, Pip-squeak," he called to her from his reclining position on the sofa again.

With an air of reluctance, Tracy did as he'd asked, still in her petulant mood. But when she stood beside the sofa, he reached up and gently pulled her down and into his arms.

"You're just trying to get me all worked up by wearing that tight shirt, aren't you?" he lightly accused her. But before she could answer the charges, he pulled her a little closer, then kissed her soft, sweet lips with the warmth and passion burning inside him. It was but a moment later that Tracy discarded her unpleasant mood, replacing it with one that matched her brother's.

"You're succeeding, too," he whispered to her as they broke apart for a quick breath, then resumed where they'd left off.

"I don't get it," her soft voice rang like music to his ears. "We're both adults, have wants and needs, and yet we're still dancing around each other like a couple of frightened teenagers. I want you, and I know you want me. So how long do we keep playing this silly game?"

"What game is that, Pip-squeak?" he tried to sound naive.

"You know damned well what game! The one where you pretend to be the virtuous big brother and I'm supposed to be the innocent little sister. The one where we try to deny how we feel inside because someone came up with a stupid law that says we're not supposed to want each other. That game."

"Sis, as much as I'd love to ignore that law, and as much as you would too, the simple answer to that question is, not until we're twelve miles off the coast, surrounded by nothing but water. I have my reasons for doing it that way, and one of them is so that I'll be around to look after you, to keep you safe, and to enjoy the rest of my life as a free man."

"What, because I'm your sister?" she couldn't follow what he was thinking.

"When I was in Saudi Arabia, there was a guy I worked with that came from Florida. He and his cousin had an affair going after we got back. The next thing I knew, he'd been sent to jail for what they'd done. In Florida, that can be a life sentence. It also scared the shit out of me. So while this might seem like a silly little game to you, staying out of prison is serious business for me, and if that means waiting a little longer, it's something that I find myself compelled to do. Understand?"

Tracy now looked at her brother with a little more understanding than she'd had before. In spite of how much she wanted him, and knew that he wanted her too, he had a reason to deny both of them what they craved so desperately. He wanted her to be safe from possible prosecution, and to be there when she needed him, just like when they'd been teenagers. It might be just another small chink in the armour, but to her it became another milestone event in this process of getting him to open up to her. There was a warm glow in her heart, now knowing that he'd go to such an extreme, primarily for her benefit.

"I guess so," Tracy acknowledged his explanation, "but I still say it's a silly game."

"Maybe, Sis, but losing is more than I'm willing to gamble on, and I won't put you in a position where you might lose, either. Just think, though. Once we're out on the ocean, we can pretty much do what we want, live the way we feel like, and enjoy a freedom that being in a society like this one just won't allow. I know it's a frustrating wait, but the rewards will be worth the sacrifice."

She leaned down and kissed his lips in partial response, staying there for as long as she could, but finally releasing him after several long and delicious minutes.

"Twenty years, and you still spend your time making sure I'm protected and safe. I don't know how you do it, Brandon, but I do know that I love you for it."

"I love you, too, Pip-squeak," he answered her before lightly kissing her one more time.

"So," Tracy tried to advance the timetable on this magical escape he'd teased her with, "when do you plan on looking for that boat? I have no idea about any of this stuff, you realize. What to look for, what's good and what's not? How much they cost, or what you'll need to live on, for however long you're gone. Hell, I don't even have the faintest idea how to run one of those things! I'm going to be pretty useless to you, aren't I? You still think that my going along is such a good idea?"

"I think you being there beside me might be the best idea I've had in my whole life, Tracy," he became serious. "And you don't 'run' a sailboat, you 'sail' it. Finding out what'll work for us, not just me, will take some research, but that's part of the fun.

"As for when we start looking? How about tomorrow? We'll need to get ourselves a computer so we can do an online search, then go through listings to see what's available, but we can pick up a decent laptop first thing in the morning. Would that be soon enough for my little sister, or should I see what kind of 'hot deal' I can pick up off the streets tonight?"

Tracy stared at her brother, stunned that something she considered to be a pipe-dream could actually come true. He was about to make it a reality, and this soon? It was more than she could take in all at once.

"Tomorrow?" she squeaked with a subdued voice. "Really?"

"Sure. Why not? What's stopping us?"

"What about Celeste? What am I supposed to do about her?"

"Tracy, Celeste has her own path to follow through life. Our paths have crossed once already; hers, yours, and mine. Who's to say that they won't cross again some time in the future? But hers and mine are heading in different directions at the moment. Where your life goes is up to you. I would hope that ours stay together for a while, but again, that's up to you. Until the Universe unfolds to show me, I have to take it one day at a time, which is a long-winded way of saying, I have no idea where or how Celeste fits into the overall scheme of things."

Tracy curled a little tighter into her brother's arms, cradled in both the warmth of his body, and of his heart. She finally fell asleep in that embrace, followed soon after by Brandon as he let their rekindling closeness pervade his awareness.

"Here's one that looks interesting," Brandon called to his sister, who was still in their little kitchenette, pouring her brother a coffee, and herself some juice.

"Forty-three foot sloop, two staterooms, plus a convertible dinette, new mainsail, Genoa jib, spinnaker, Bimini top, steel hull," he read off the description.

"What the hell's a Bimini top?" Tracy wanted to know.

"One of those canvas roof things that covers the cockpit. They're almost mandatory if you're sailing in direct sunlight. I love eating lobster, but I don't want to become one," he had to rib her. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"How much?" she wanted to find out.

"They're asking two twenty-five. Not bad, considering most of the steel-hulled ones I've seen are running two seventy-five and up."

"What's the catch? Why that much under the going rate?"

"No idea. Maybe I should call them and see if we can take a look at it. If it's at all half decent, it might be worth getting it inspected. For that kind of money, I'd be willing to spend twenty-five for repairs and modifications."

"Where is it? Outer Mongolia?"

"Says here that it's berthed in Naples, Florida. Want me to call?"

"Florida? How the hell are we supposed to get to Florida? Walk?"

"We could fly, but I think I'd like to drive down. Can't be more than a couple of days, each way, and we might find something not listed that's as good a deal, if not better. Not everyone advertises on the internet, you know."

Tracy sauntered into the living room area, passed her brother his coffee, then looked over his shoulder at the laptop screen, intentionally resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Oh yeah! That one's pretty!" she softly exclaimed.

Brandon gave up trying to resist temptation, turned his head, and lightly flicked Tracy's earlobe with his tongue.

"I'll say," he chuckled as Tracy pressed her head against his, soaking up their intimacy like a sponge...

"The boat, Idiot Brains!" she chastised his advance, but made no move to resist, either.

"Oh. Yeah. That, too," he snickered before kissing that same ear, then sliding his tongue around the rim of it.

"Brandon, am I going to have to spend the next month or so fighting you off?" she teased him, not moving away from where she still rested her chin.

"No. You could always just give in and save us both a lot of time and trouble, you know." His tone betrayed just how much he wanted to ignore that taboo that seemed to get in their way, but couldn't.

"Goof! So could you," she declared, then finally moved her head to where she could kiss the tip of his nose.

Brandon went back to searching, stopping a few pages later as he spotted another interesting listing.

"Hey, look at this one," he invited his sister. "Fifty foot ketch, three staterooms, all new sails, full electronics? Three hundred and twenty-five thousand, they're asking. The pictures of the cabin look pretty good, too."

"For that kind of money, they'd better be gorgeous," she stated while scanning the screen. "Three hundred thousand? Isn't that more than you wanted to spend?"

"Three hundred is, but if they're willing to come down to, say, two-fifty, or two seventy-five, I could be interested," he suggested.

"Wooden hull? I thought you wanted steel?"

'I'd prefer steel, but if it doesn't need extensive work, a wooden one would be okay. It's fibreglass on the open ocean that I'm not too keen on. Wouldn't take much of a log to punch a hole in fibreglass. That's why I wanted steel."

"And just how many floating logs do you think we'll see in the middle of the Pacific?"

"All it takes is one. You want to gamble on something like that? Three thousand miles is a long way to swim," he reminded her.

"And I swim like a rock anyway. Maybe you're right about fibreglass. But let's stick to steel. Wood splinters."

The screech of an alarm clock roused Brandon from the realms of sleep. For a moment or two, he couldn't remember why he'd set it in the first place, but as he woke up a little more, the memory came back to him that this was the day that he and Tracy would head off for the warm sunshine of Florida

He struggled out of bed and went to wake his sister, but the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. During the night, Tracy had kicked off the sheets, and she was now laying on her side, facing away from where he stood. Her T-shirt had scrunched up, exposing her gorgeous little backside. Brandon was torn between enjoying the sight and the morality of ignoring what his eyes beheld. In the end, morality won out, but it was a hard-fought battle of conscience.

"Come on, Sleepyhead," he called softly into her ear. "Time to rise and shine. We've got miles to roll."

Tracy rolled onto her back, her sex now fully presented to her brother who was immediately re-engaged in that moral battle inside. But as her eyes opened, she looked up at him as though completely oblivious to her exposed body and smiled.

"Morning, big brother," she happily greeted him. "What time is it?"

"Huh?" Brandon stammered as he tried to tear his eyes from the gorgeous woman before him.

"Time," she repeated. "What time is..."

Suddenly Tracy realized that she was laying in front of her brother, naked from the midriff down, and it was affecting his ability to concentrate.