by Jamie Beck
Emmy and Lisa’s bright, eager faces stared up at the green-and-white sail. The girls then closed their eyes, letting sea spray hit their faces as the ship skimmed across the water.
Ryan took back the tiller, and Steffi got ready to let out the jib.
“Hold up another few minutes.” He killed the engine to let the wind propel the craft forward. The boat rose and fell, water slapping against its hull as the gust whooshed in their ears. He glanced at Steffi. “Now.”
She hadn’t needed the reminder, though. She knew Knot So Fast almost as well as he did. Within another few minutes, she’d raised the jib, and they were off.
“Where are we going, Dad?” Emmy asked.
“There’s an archipelago of tiny islands a few miles offshore. I know of a deepwater inlet where we can drop anchor, picnic, and swim.” He kept his gaze from Steffi’s. He hadn’t picked that spot because it was a reminder of the past. It genuinely provided a sheltered place for the girls to swim. Then again, he could’ve selected someplace that wasn’t fraught with nostalgia.
“What about sharks?” Emmy examined the murky ocean with no small degree of terror in her eyes.
“There hasn’t been a shark attack in the sound since 1961,” Steffi chimed in. “That’s more than fifty years ago. Your memaw would’ve been about your age when it happened.”
“Really?” Emmy looked skeptical.
“Really,” Steffi promised. “And even if there are sharks nearby, they usually eat at night, not in the day. Just remove anything shiny, like a bracelet or ring. We aren’t fishing and chumming the water, so we’ll be fine.”
Ryan noticed Emmy’s fists on her thighs. She looked at Lisa, whose placid expression seemed unconcerned, and her knuckles turned white.
“When we get there, I’ll jump in first and splash around,” Steffi said. “If no sharks come get me, then you’ll know it’s safe.”
“But what if they do come?” Emmy protested.
“Your dad will save me, of course.” Steffi smiled at Emmy, reassuring her while transforming Ryan into a superhero.
Emmy grinned at him. The pride in her eyes would feed his soul if he was anything close to heroic in real life. But the truth was, he couldn’t even save his daughter from the pain of abandonment.
“How much longer?” Emmy asked Ryan.
“A while.”
She sighed. Twenty minutes and multiple “Are we there yets” later, both girls fidgeted wildly.
Lisa turned to Emmy. “Want to go back downstairs to play?”
“Okay.” Emmy bounded off the bench, completely disinterested in the birds, the other boats, or the distant view of the coastline.
Ryan supposed most kids jumped from destination to destination without taking the time to participate in everything along the way. Time couldn’t move fast enough at that age. They wanted to move, grow up, and taste freedom, ignorant of the fact that the responsibility that comes with that freedom changes everything. Makes you weigh your choices and consider the consequences. In other words, it slows you down.
“Told ya,’” Steffi said, sliding onto the seat the girls had vacated. She hugged her knees to her chest, removed the bandanna, and inhaled deeply as the wind blew her hair all about. “Thanks for letting me come. I haven’t sailed since . . . well, in forever. I forgot how much I love it.”
“My pleasure.” Unbelievably, he meant it. A shrink would have a field day with him. Maybe Val hadn’t been all wrong when she’d accused him of never having fully gotten Steffi out of his system.
When they finally arrived at the old secret spot—one he could almost find without plot charts and paper charts—he and Steffi worked in unison to lower the sails, pay out the line, and set the anchor.
“I think we’re good.” His voice cracked. Dropping anchor had always been a prelude to sex. Their routine had been sex, swim, eat, sex again, and then sail home. Now there were two little girls in the cabin—and ten years of mistrust between them.
Sex would not be part of today’s routine except for the way it curled the edges of his mind like a flame to paper.
“Should we eat first?” Steffi asked.
Apparently, she wasn’t thinking about sex at all. “Let’s eat up here. I don’t want Emmy indoors all day, for God’s sake.”
“Agreed.” Steffi cupped her hands around her mouth. “Come on up, girls!”
Seconds later, they scampered up to the deck.
“We’ll eat up here, and then we’ll swim.” Ryan noticed Emmy cast another worried look at the water.
“The islands are pretty,” Lisa remarked, looking at the small, rocky landmasses dotted with trees and homes.
“Glad you noticed.” Ryan then ruffled Emmy’s hair, but she kept her focus on the sea.
“You girls sit on that bench and watch for pirates while your dad and I go fix some plates.” Steffi grinned.
“There aren’t pirates here.” Emmy rolled her eyes.
“Oh?” Steffi heaved an exaggerated sigh. “No pirates. No sharks. What will we do for adventure?”
Then she marched below without another word.
Emmy and Lisa giggled. Ryan double-checked their life vests and said, “Don’t move from this bench.”
Below deck, he and Steffi worked side by side in the tight galley, each carefully avoiding looking anywhere near the forward cabin.
“It’s weird, right?” she finally said as he retrieved four water bottles from the cooler.
“What?” He hoped playing dumb would avoid an awkward conversation.
“The flashbacks. Memories.” She took two water bottles from him and tossed a quick glance over her shoulder toward that cabin. “I shared a lot of firsts here with you.”
Those few words sent him back in time.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked while peeling his blue-striped bathing suit off. They’d prepared for this. Talked about it all week. He’d thought about it at least twice per hour since they’d made the pact and brought a box of condoms.
She sat on the bed, head hunched forward so as not to knock it against the ceiling, and removed her string bikini top to reveal pert, full breasts with pretty pink tips. “Yes, totally sure.”
He only half believed they’d go through with it. Now, watching her shimmy out of the bathing-suit bottoms, his heart climbed into his throat. Thrill. Fear. Wonder. A cocktail of emotion that pushed its way through his body, making him quake with anticipation.
This was it. His life would be defined as before and after this step with her. Everything between them would change, too. But it would be okay, because he loved her more than any person in his life, and she loved him. He was never more certain of that love than he was right then, when she reached out for him.
“Come on, Captain. Hoist your sail.” She’d always preferred jokes and physical expressions of love to intimate conversation. With a sly smile, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him against her naked body.
What followed could only be described as a clumsy kind of passion, marked with scorching kisses, fumbling fingers, and shaky nerves. All of that wrapped in a beautiful heat that spread from his heart through his limbs, as he claimed Steffi Lockwood his . . . for always.
The boat rocked as the water lapped against the hull, and for a while, time ceased to exist.
“Ryan? Are you okay?” Steffi asked.
“Yep.” His eyes stung, so he looked away. “Lots of firsts.”
He tucked two bottles beneath his armpits and grabbed two of the four plates, then turned to go above deck.
“Firsts and bests.” She’d said it just loud enough that he knew she meant for him to hear her.
He took one step toward sunlight, heart pounding, then looked over his shoulder with a grin. “Mine too.”
A sudden need for air made him bolt outside so the breeze would fill his lungs again. He handed both girls a plate and water bottle, then took a seat and braced to face Steffi, now that he’d admitted something he’d never planne
d to say.
Chapter Twelve
Mine too. Steffi smiled to herself as she replayed Ryan’s words a third time. She’d earned his forgiveness in these few weeks. She should be grateful for that and not push. But those two words had offered a hairline crack of hope, and like a field mouse, she’d find a way to squeeze through it for a chance to snuggle up to the warmth of Ryan Quinn.
She went above deck and handed him his plate, which he’d piled high with chicken, then sat beside him. Close, but not touching, although it took a lot of concentration not to let her knee wander to her left. She tormented herself with the idea of an “accidentally on purpose” graze, and then by wondering if he would flinch, move over, or allow their knees extended contact.
Her gaze locked on that inch between their thighs, her heart pounding madly, desperately, egging her to move her leg. She could blame it on the rocking of the boat if he tensed. But he might let it linger . . . he might be remembering . . .
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, gesturing to the chicken breast she’d yet to touch.
Molly’s fried chicken had been Steffi’s favorite for years, but sexual frustration filled her stomach now, killing her appetite. Why had she ever given up the right to hold his hand, sit on his lap, and enjoy his kisses? He’d loved her, but she’d run from him without even knowing what she hoped to find.
“Where are the cookies?” Emmy asked.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Ryan answered, licking the salty grease from his fingers. Steffi tore her gaze from his mouth. “Cookies come after we swim.”
Emmy glanced over the edge of the small craft and grimaced. “Are there jellyfish?”
“Not usually.” Ryan tipped his head, studying his daughter.
“What about other fish?” Lisa asked.
“Of course there are other fish in the sea.” He smiled at the ancient idiom, but Steffi knew it had no real meaning for young girls. She’d also come to doubt the truth of that idea, too. “But they won’t bite.”
“How do you know?” Emmy asked.
“Because you’re bigger than most of them, and I’ve done this a million times without ever getting hurt.” He sighed, signaling that he’d reached the limit of his patience.
“The first time your dad brought me out on this boat, I was scared to swim, too. I mean, we are far from the shore, and you can’t see what’s down there. But then I decided I wouldn’t let fear make me miss out on something fun.” Steffi stood and dumped her plate in the trash. Without waiting for the others, she stripped out of her shorts and T-shirt, clambered to the stern’s ledge, and dived into the water, shouting, “Fish bait!”
When she broke through the surface, she gasped. The chill made it feel as if every cubic inch of water in the inlet was crushing her chest. She sucked at the air to catch her breath.
“Holy cow,” she sputtered. “It’s freezing!”
Three sets of eyes stared at her from over the port-side railing. Ryan crossed his arms but wore a wide grin.
“Come on, don’t leave me hanging here by myself!” Steffi stammered through chattering teeth, which probably didn’t encourage anyone to join her.
“No way.” Emmy’s emphatic headshaking showed she was more convinced than ever that deep-ocean swimming was less appealing than a math test.
“How about you, Lisa?” Steffi hoped Lisa would persuade Emmy to overcome her fear in the same way that keeping up with Steffi’s brothers had forced her to do so. So far, that tactic hadn’t helped Steffi lessen Claire’s anxiety, but, surely, she could get these two girls in the water.
Sadly, a wordless shake of Lisa’s head upended Steffi’s ploy.
“Ryan?” She shivered, her body refusing to adjust to the cold water. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing if she couldn’t convince them to jump in. Not to mention how unappealing she must look with blue lips and head-to-toe goose bumps.
“Can’t leave the girls aboard by themselves.” A taunting smile appeared. “Sorry!”
“You will be sorry,” she teased, trying in vain to splash them all with water. Her benumbed arms lacked real power, so the water barely sprinkled them. Undaunted, she swam around as if enjoying it all, doing somersaults and floating on her back—anything to pique Emmy’s curiosity.
A few minutes later, the girls lost interest in watching her, so Ryan lowered the swim ladder. “You can’t win ’em all.”
Mere seconds shy of becoming a human popsicle, she swam to the stern. When she boarded, he wrapped her in a towel. Face-to-face, he pulled it snugly around her, then brushed her wet hair back from her cheeks and whispered, “Thanks for trying.”
He let his thumb linger at her jaw, his eyes tender and raw. Her heart pumped twice as fast, and not because her limbs needed blood to warm up. She felt words gathering—disjointed thoughts and yearnings he should hear. She’d never been good with words. If the girls hadn’t been on deck, Steffi might have kissed him right then. For now, she’d settle for standing so close that their stomachs were practically touching, and holding his gaze.
“Dad, can I steer the boat next?” Emmy tugged on Ryan’s swimsuit, ruining the electric moment.
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Sure, I’ll teach you and Lisa how to use the tiller.”
“Yay. I’ll go get the cookies now.” Emmy trotted off without waiting for his permission.
Steffi supposed he, too, knew when to admit defeat.
“I think I’ll get out of this wet suit and put my clothes on.” She reluctantly broke free from his grip and went to the cabin. The look in his eyes suggested he wanted to follow her below deck and help her out of her suit. Progress, she thought. She could build on this.
Hours later, they pulled back into the marina. While everyone pitched in to tie down the boat and cover the sails—relishing their salt-crusted hair and wind-burned cheeks—Steffi wondered why Val had given up on Ryan and Emmy. There couldn’t be a better way to while away time than with this little family, nor a better man to love.
Surely, Val would see her mistake, just as Steffi had, and come running back. If she did so soon, would Ryan take her back? If not for his own sake, then for Emmy’s? From what Steffi had seen, he might do just about anything to make his daughter happy. He also wouldn’t be the first person to keep a marriage together for the sake of a child.
Karma might enjoy Steffi getting her heart broken by him this time around.
That thought infringed on her good mood as they all walked along the marina’s splintered wood dock, loaded down with the empty cooler, picnic basket, and bag of mostly unused towels.
When they reached the parking lot, the girls skipped ahead to the car. Ryan popped the trunk, and she helped him pack it up.
“Girls, wait in the back seat while I walk Steffi to her car.” He gestured with his head toward her van.
“You don’t need to walk me. We can see the van from here.” She took a few steps, but he followed anyway.
“Are you okay?” He kept his gaze on the ground about four feet ahead of them as he matched her stride.
“Better than okay. Awesome day.” Or it had been until doubts about Val clouded everything. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”
“Your mood nose-dived at the slip.” He stopped at her van.
She could lie, but having him trust her—to look at her that way again—kept her honest. “I was thinking about things, that’s all.”
“Things to do with me?”
She inhaled and momentarily held her breath. “Let’s not spoil the fantastic day with an awkward conversation.”
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“No.” She twisted her arms together in front of her body. “I started thinking about Val.”
“Val?” He reeled backward as if she’d struck him.
Steffi dragged her hands through her hair. “I had such a great day, but I couldn’t help wondering how she walked away from you two. I’m sure she’ll regret it and come back.”
He
shook his head. “No, she won’t.”
“I did.” Steffi should have been mortified by the confession. She just handed him a perfect opportunity to smugly take her down a peg. Instead, she found herself staring into his eyes, seeking reassurance.
He blinked, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe what she’d said. His eyes glowed with something that resembled satisfaction, but then he shoved his hands under his armpits. “She won’t be back. We both left that marriage, in one way or another. I don’t miss her and she doesn’t miss me. My only regret is that Emmy’s paying the price for our mistakes.”
Steffi sighed, partly relieved, but still uncertain that Ryan, if faced with the option to rebuild his family, would walk away from Val. “I’m sorry. For all of you.”
“Don’t waste your time feeling sorry for me, Steffi. Better days are ahead for everyone.” He opened her door and waved her into the driver’s seat, smiling. “Now go shower. You smell like fish bait.”
“It looks like the cookies were a hit.” Ryan’s mom removed the near-empty Tupperware from the picnic basket while interrogating Emmy about the day. “You must’ve worked up an appetite swimming.”
“We didn’t swim.” Emmy climbed onto a kitchen stool at the breakfast bar and rested her chin on her fists. “They just tasted so good!”
“No one swam?” His mom’s jaw slackened in surprise as she glanced at Ryan.
“Miss Steffi swam,” Emmy laughed. “She was freezing.”
“She might’ve been cold, but she wasn’t afraid, was she?” Ryan squeezed her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “I think we missed out on some fun by not joining her.”
Emmy shot her grandmother one of her infamous “He’s not fooling me” looks. “It didn’t look like fun to me.”
“At least admit that she didn’t get attacked by any fish, sharks, or jellyfish. Next time we sail, I want you to get in the water.” The image of Steffi climbing onto the boat—her body glistening in the sunlight—flashed for the fourth or fifth time that afternoon. If the girls hadn’t been there . . .