To the One I Love: That Old Familiar FeelingAn Older ManCaught by a Cowboy

by Emilie Richards

  Matt wrapped his fingers around her arm and turned her back to face him. “I know this isn’t ideal, Lacey.”

  “Ideal?”

  “Okay, I know it’s not even close. But I already reserved the boat, and I can’t let Skiff down. He wants me to try it out and report back, even if I don’t buy it. And I can’t do that without another adult on board.”

  “You want me to baby-sit while you cruise around in your dreamboat? I keep the twins from diving overboard while you play with knobs and levers and whistles!”

  “You’ve got it backward. I baby-sit, you pilot. I remember how much you used to love to be the captain. And you’re going to love this cruiser. It makes anything we took out as kids look like a rowboat. We can still have a great morning, eat lunch out on the water somewhere, then bring it back before the sun gets too hot.” He seemed to sense he was winning. He gave a slow grin and ran his fingertips along her arm. “Please?”

  “You have life jackets for them?”

  “The best money can buy. And they know about boats. It’s the one place they’re guaranteed to behave. I make sure of it.”

  That sounded promising. She considered.

  He pushed a little harder. “I bought shrimp salad at Wallace’s. You remember how good their shrimp salad is? Potato salad, too. Fresh rolls from the bakery, watermelon, a pecan pie. Champagne…”

  “You always did know exactly how to get to me.”

  “If we ever get any time alone, I’ll show you everything I remember.”

  Every nerve in her body fluttered at that thought, and the parts of her body that were just barely covered by the bikini took particular interest.

  “Okay,” she said. “But here’s the deal. If the boys get rowdy, we’re coming back. No ifs, ands or buts. Promise me.”

  “Nothing, and I mean nothing, will stop us from turning around and heading back to the key.” He crossed his heart with his index finger. “Nothing.”

  “We’re not going to make it back to the key on our own steam,” Matt shouted from the boat five hours later. “Our only chance to get home before nightfall is another boat. Jump up and down and scream like a maniac if you see one.”

  Lacey didn’t know what to say. There were no words for the occasion. Matt waded back to shore where Lacey waited for him. The boys were asleep under the dubious shade of something scrubby up on the beach. Treasure Island didn’t have as much to offer as she remembered. It wasn’t much more than an elevated sandbar with a few shells and tufts of vegetation.

  “I’m sorry,” Matt said when he joined her at the water’s edge. “I’m going to wring Skiff’s neck. The guy who sold him the boat ought to be shot. Missed Minnesota my eyeball. He got out of Florida so Skiff wouldn’t come hunting for him.”

  “But doesn’t Skiff go over a boat before he buys it?”

  “He probably did. I’m guessing this one’s just a lemon. I’ve had trucks like that. Nothing concrete you can point to, but always out of commission. Jinxed or something like it.”

  She was beginning to panic, then she realized there was no reason to. “Wait. The boat has a radio. Why didn’t I think of it? It has a radio and you can call for help.” She paused. “Why didn’t you?”

  He looked pained. “The radio’s, uh, not working.”

  “But it’s practically a brand-new boat! It was working early in the trip. You called Skiff.”

  He looked away. “That was before Riley tried to fix it so we could get music. While you were in the head.”

  She closed her eyes. “You let Riley fool with the radio?”

  “I was pointing out a pod of dolphins to Roman. I thought Riley was right behind me.”

  She waved him to silence as she considered the problem. They had already tried their cell phones, but they were out of range. “Did he do something to the motor, as well?”

  “I hope not.”

  She opened her eyes. “Are they really related to you? Are you sure Jill wasn’t having an affair with Jack the Ripper?”

  He rested his hands on her shoulders. “My mother says I was the same way. By the way, I can’t believe you got them to sleep.”

  “I told them we were going to swim home and they needed to rest up for the trip. I can’t believe I’ve resorted to lying to four-year-olds, Matt. I used to be reasonable, even kind.” Her voice had risen. She clamped her lips shut.

  “Honey, a little white lie is a lot better than tossing them in the drink.”

  “I thought of that. But they swim.”

  “We’re going to be okay, I promise. This is no big deal. People come by Treasure Island all the time. Remember the last time we were here?”

  “Don’t you know how this works? We wanted privacy that day, so everybody in the world floated by. Now we need help, and nobody’s going to come. Look at the sky, would you? It’s turning darker by the minute. Anyone with sense is taking cover about now.”

  “A little rain never keeps a Floridian down.”

  She told herself to be reasonable. Matt was probably right. Someone would pass by, see their plight and rescue them. She’d be home in no time, showered and shampooed and ready for a long, long nap while rain pattered on Grammer’s roof. Meantime she was marooned on a romantic tropical island with Matt, who was even more attractive and interesting than she had remembered.

  “We never got to the champagne,” Matt said, taking advantage of her silence. “Let’s pop the cork before the boys wake up.”

  It seemed the sensible thing to do. She waited while he opened the cooler and took out the bottle. He walked to the opposite shore—it was a much smaller island than Lacey had remembered—and opened it there so not to wake the twins. Then he brought the bottle back and poured healthy portions into two plastic cups.

  They sat on a blanket on the soft sand leading down to the water and toasted each other.

  “To fond memories,” Matt said. “To this very sand and this very sun and two teenagers who had the hots for each other.”

  “Did we ever.” Lacey sipped. “This is good stuff. You have good taste.”

  “I stayed away from California vintners, just for you.”

  “It’s really a lovely state. I’ll go back someday so I can see it through new eyes.”

  “Do you remember the last time we were here?”

  She had been certain he would get to that eventually. “Uh-huh.”

  “For years every morning when I woke up I cursed that other boat.”

  “We were too young to make love, weren’t we? It might have set us up for a big fall.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The way he said it made her heart beat faster. “We had to grow up, find our own way….”

  “Neither of us did that exactly, Lacey. You went into corporate law because your father thought you should, married a man because your parents approved of—”

  “How do you know that? I’ve never said Mom and Dad approved of Geo.”

  “Did they?”

  She grimaced. “Emory grad, wealthy old Atlanta family, top of his law school class at Yale and a line of patter guaranteed to put any nagging doubts to sleep. A politician in the making. You’re right. In their minds, he was perfect.”

  “I married Jill because I was lonely and needed someone in my life. Maybe I mistook that for love. I don’t know anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. Sorry she died. Sorry she was so unhappy as a mother.”

  She heard the unspoken. Sorry he had allowed Jill to turn his dreams upside down.

  “But I’m not sorry I have the boys,” Matt said. “They’re my life.”

  She put her hand on his knee. “I know.”

  He set his glass in the sand. “And you know what else? I am sorry I didn’t make love to you that day. Because maybe we really were meant to be together, and we screwed up when we went our separate ways.”

  “Matt, I—”

  “Lacey…” He touched her hair, then threaded his fingers through it.
“It’s a possibility, isn’t it? Admit it?”

  Admit it? She couldn’t get her tongue to work. His other hand was at her waist, under the cover-up, splayed against her bare skin. She felt the way she had at eighteen, suffused by desire and doubly scared by it. When he kissed her and nudged her back against the blanket she went, because all choice had fled.

  His lips were warm and firm, and he nibbled at her bottom lip. “I always loved to kiss you.”

  Her arms went around him of their own accord. She could have sworn she had nothing to do with it. “You did a lot of it,” she whispered.

  “You participated.”

  “Like I’m participating now?”

  “Exactly.” He kissed her again, and the kiss deepened. He had one hand between them, and it inched toward her breast. Each slow, gliding movement magnified her response. She whimpered a little as his fingertips brushed the tiny scrap of cloth that covered her breasts. He nudged it aside. The cover-up was still between them, but his hand was under it, stroking nothing but her softest flesh.

  “I remembered the way you felt,” he said, lifting his head a little to look down at her. “It’s been driving me crazy wondering if you still felt the same.”

  Her response was so strong and so instantaneous that she was paralyzed by it. She was fast losing her good sense and letting passion replace it. She and Matt had no future together, and the reasons were sleeping not far away.

  “I was going to bring you here today, and make you see how right we are for each other,” he said.

  “You thought I’d be that easy?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Because I’m an old married woman?”

  “Not old, and not married. Not anymore.” He rolled over, bringing her with him so that she was on top of him. When she pushed up to look at him, he cupped both of her breasts in his hands. She arched her back and moaned.

  “When we get home, I’ll find a damned sitter. We’ll go off somewhere—”

  “No!” Lacey pried herself loose and rolled away from him, sliding the top of her bikini back in place. “Matt, we can’t.”

  “Why not? We’re consenting adults. You know I won’t hurt you, Lacey. That can’t be it.”

  “Daddy!”

  She was thrilled that this conversation was going to be delayed by one of the boys. She didn’t know how to tell Matt that she was going to call a halt to this now, while she still could. How could she explain that she couldn’t be a mother to his sons? Matt hadn’t asked her to marry him, so that sort of announcement was both premature and presumptuous.

  It was also final, and final seemed too painful at the moment.

  “I’m sorry,” Matt said. “But we’re going to have this discussion later, as soon as we can.”

  She watched him stand and head for the twins. She lay back and stared up at the darkening sky.

  The morning had been anything but romantic. Perhaps the kids were better behaved on a boat than on land, but it was a matter of inches, not miles. She suspected that sometime between Matt’s bout with the flu and today, the boys had gotten their sizeable IQs together and decided to declare war on her.

  Until now their shenanigans hadn’t felt personal. But today the boys had teamed up to make her miserable. They had tripped over her repeatedly, kicked sand on her lunch, tossed breadcrumbs to seagulls flying over her head in hopes, she supposed, that one of the birds would drop a souvenir in her hair. Her beach bag was saturated from a dip in the Gulf, courtesy of Roman. Her towel slept with the fishes.

  She had struggled all morning to be sweet, loving, patient. But by the time they took their naps she was ready to bury them up to their chins in the sand. All latent maternal instincts had fled forever. She had given up for good.

  Surely Matt had seen the way they conspired. He had reprimanded the boys, even given them stern timeouts, but they had seen their chances and taken every one of them. The boys understood their father better than he understood himself. They knew how much he adored them and how harried he was trying to raise them alone. And like the small geniuses they were, they were taking advantage.

  “Thought we were gonna swim for home,” Roman said, coming up to throw shade across her face.

  Lacey sat up quickly. She knew better than to let herself be caught lying down. “Only if you know the way.”

  “Don’t.” He glared at her.

  She felt a twinge of guilt. “I don’t, either, Roman. I’m sorry I said we were going to. It’s really too far. I wish we could.”

  “You’re mean.”

  She felt properly chastened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Tell you what, while we wait for another boat to rescue us, let’s build sand castles.”

  “No.” He scuffed his bare toes in the sand. “You were kissing my daddy.”

  “Uh-huh.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “I don’t like you.”

  “That’s as clear as a jellyfish, kiddo.”

  “I’m not ever gonna do what you say.”

  “I appreciate the warning.”

  “I don’t need a mommy.”

  “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “You don’t even like little boys.”

  She stared at him and wondered if they taught classes in finding Achilles’ heels at the local preschool. Roman was clearly at graduate level.

  “I thought I did,” she said. “I fully expected to like you. But you and Riley go out of your way to make sure I can’t. Why’s that?”

  “Don’t know what you mean.”

  She was sure he did; she was even more sure she had just surprised the heck out of him. She wondered if she was the only person in the world who realized how smart these kids were and how incredibly devious at hiding it.

  She put her hand on his arm. “You do know what I mean,” she said quietly but firmly. “I have your number, and I’m not going to treat you like you’re dumb. I know for a fact you can behave better, control yourself when you want to and be helpful without even half trying.”

  “Leggo!”

  She did. “Remember what I said.”

  “I hate you.”

  She wrinkled her forehead in concentration. “You know what? I don’t think you do. There’s something else going on. What is it?”

  He turned and fled.

  “Want to play Frisbee?” Matt asked, coming up behind her.

  She got to her feet, a bit shaken from her encounter with a four-year-old. A four-year-old! “You guys go on. I’m going back to the boat to see if the former owner left anything in the galley for supper. Just in case.”

  “We won’t be here,” Matt promised. “It’s just a matter of time before somebody shows up and rescues us.”

  They dined on slices of stale bread and cheese they wrapped in foil and toasted over a campfire. The fire was courtesy of the twins and not easy to set since the storm had rolled in, soaking everything on the tiny island including the intrepid castaways.

  After the storm Lacey, totally devoid of patience, had put the boys to work. She organized them to find driftwood for the fire and stayed on their cases until they did. Next she gave them orders to cut up slices of cheese with plastic knives she provided. She made them spread a blanket and set it with paper plates and plastic cups. She swam them to the boat so they could help prepare powdered lemonade. She didn’t let them out of her sight for a moment, and she didn’t let them relax. By the time the sun was down and they were toasting stale Minnesota marshmallows, their protests were mere mumbles.

  Matt, who had spent the afternoon vainly trying to repair the motor, sat between them now. He had taken to singing the theme song from Gilligan’s Island, even teaching it to the boys. He only knew the words to the first two lines, but he hummed the rest, inserting random words if he remembered them. She was ready to strangle them all.

  “It’s time to clean up and go to bed,” she said, getting to her feet.

  “No hurry,” Matt said. “We don’t have anything else we have to do. No place
to go.”

  She was salty, sandy, itchy, exhausted and irritable. She wanted a bath and a real bed. She did not want to talk about fishing for food, in case no one sailed by tomorrow, either. She didn’t want to talk about conserving drinking water by not taking showers.

  “Matt, it’s time to go to bed,” she said, brooking no resistance. “We’ve been out in the sun all day, and no matter how much we’ve had to drink, we’re probably dehydrated. I for one am so tired I’m going to drop. We are not the Swiss Family Robinson, okay? And you are not Gilligan!”

  “More like the Skipper,” he said, getting to his feet, too. “But I see where you’re going with this. Time to go back to the boat, boys. Let’s put out the fire.”

  “I wanna stay!”

  “You are going to the boat,” Lacey said firmly. “I’m here if you need help finding the way.”

  “She means it boys, and she’s right,” Matt agreed in a voice that brooked no resistance. “Not another argument. Got it?”

  The sand they kicked on the fire found its way toward her, as well, but she’d been prepared for that. By the time they swam and waded to the boat, took meager sponge baths and settled on the beds in the cabin, the boys protest was less energetic. Lacey could hear their quiet chant, even though she couldn’t see them.

  “I hate Lacey. I hate Lacey…”

  Matt had put the boys in the master cabin in the big bed and assigned a wing of the corner sofa to Lacey. He turned his back while she stripped off her suit and cover-up and slipped naked under a sheet. She wasn’t quite as conscientious about looking away while he did the same, although unfortunately he was in deep shadow.

  “They don’t hate you.” Matt’s voice was quiet so the boys wouldn’t hear.

  She stared at him, all covered now, in the dim light of a kerosene lantern. “Are you kidding?” she whispered. “Can’t you see what’s right in front of you?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Matt, I don’t have a single maternal gene. Maybe my sisters got them, or maybe my mother didn’t have any to pass along. But I have no talent for taking care of kids. Good grief, where were you today? Where have you been every day I’ve been with them?”