I smiled as I went back to looking at the menu. There was nothing strange about talking about our spouses with each other. Other people tended to shy away from even mentioning Max’s name, yet Jordan had no issues at all. It didn’t bother me to hear him speak of Anna either. They were huge parts of our past lives, and it seemed almost natural to bring them into the conversation at times.
“The crème brûlée looks good,” I mused.
He closed his menu. “So does the chocolate mousse. Share?”
“Lovely.”
“Then we can take a stroll and walk off some of these calories. All right?”
“Yes.”
A gentle breeze blew across my face as we walked along the docks at the marina. Boats bobbed in the water, the hulls bumping against the wood. We stood and admired a few boats on the harbor, the lights on their masts glimmering in the water. Jordan had offered me his hand when he helped me out of the car, and it had remained wrapped around mine as we strolled along the docks.
“Do you like boats, Sandy?”
I furrowed my brow. “I don’t dislike them. I haven’t been on one very often, to be honest. Max and I went on a cruise once. I liked it, but he wasn’t a fan. Other than that, we did a tour of the harbor one time, and I think we went on a friend’s boat once.”
“Not a water lover, I guess?”
I chuckled. “You could say that. I can’t even begin to describe the shades of green he turned. Even with medication.”
Jordan laughed. “Poor Max.”
“He tried. But it was never something we could do together, and it wasn’t any fun doing it on my own.”
“Hmph. I’ll have to change that for you.”
“Oh? You like boats?”
He stopped in front of a small, neat sailboat. It gleamed white under the lights, the deck a dark contrast to the color of the boat. “I do. This one is mine. I take her out whenever I can.”
“I didn’t know that about you.”
He turned to me with a smile. “That’s the point of dating someone, Sandy. You get to know all about them.” He winked. “Try before you buy sort of thing.”
I laughed. “I’m a little out of practice.”
“So am I. But I think we’re doing pretty damn well so far, don’t you?”
I had to agree. Once I had set aside my nerves, the evening had gone well. Better than well. I had thoroughly enjoyed myself.
He stepped onto the deck, holding out his hand. “Come aboard.”
I stumbled getting into the boat, and Jordan’s arms shot out to steady me. He pulled me tight to his chest, and for a minute I felt him. Solid, warm, safe.
Then he stepped back. “Okay now?”
I brushed back my hair self-consciously. “Sorry—not a very graceful move on my part.”
He reached over and tucked a stray strand behind my ear. His fingers seemed to linger, then he lowered his arm. “I love it when you wear your hair down,” he murmured. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I breathed out.
For a moment, we stared at each other, a warmth pulsating in the air around us. Then he smiled and stepped back.
“We’ll get your sea legs under you soon enough. Now come see my little boat.”
I didn’t know a lot about boats, but Jordan’s was very pretty. Lots of wood and bright plaid in the small cabin made it feel warm and cozy. He showed me the tiny galley, the compact bathroom, and the bed hidden behind a long curtain that doubled as a seating area. It was all neat, tidy, and comfortable looking, albeit tiny.
I was surprised to find out the boat wasn’t named after his wife. He shook his head when I asked. “Anna hated the water. She didn’t get ill like Max, she just hated it. She didn’t swim or like to go to the beach, and she never once came on the boat. So, I named it after my favorite kind of day to have on it. Open Waters.”
“Oh.”
“A good friend of Anna’s drowned when they were younger—she witnessed it happen. She never got over it.”
“How terrible.”
“It was for her—she was never able to move past it. So, I had the boat, and she had her quilting and sewing. I didn’t understand that and she didn’t like this, but it was fine. We both had something we loved.” He smiled. “As I discovered, it’s okay to have different interests, even when you’re married. We were never one of those couples who had to do everything together.”
I nodded in understanding. “As we got older, Max and I were the same. He worked so much he hated to leave the house when he had time off. He liked to hang around the house, take some time to write one of his books or a paper. I loved to travel, so we came up with a compromise. We’d stagger our vacations, and I would hang with him at the house for a week, then take a short trip with one of the grandkids or a friend. When he was working, I stayed busy with book clubs and different activities. We went on the occasional trip, but he loved resorts and I loved to explore. We took turns.”
“We both had great spouses.”
I smiled warmly at him. “We did.”
He cocked his head, studying me. “I think they’d be okay with us, out together tonight.”
I thought of Max. All the conversations we’d had over the course of his illness. He’d met Jordan a few times and always thought he was a nice man.
“Classy,” he said one day. “That man has class.”
My voice was low when I responded. “I think you’re right.”
I was quiet on the drive home. Jordan seemed lost in thought as well but was still solicitous, opening my door, helping me into the passenger seat, making sure I was warm enough. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but contemplative.
When we arrived at the house, Jordan walked me to the door, waiting until I unlocked it. I suddenly felt nervous. Tense.
Jordan met my eyes, a look of understanding on his face. “I had a lovely evening, Sandy.” He gazed at me. “I would like to repeat it.”
“Another date?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like that.”
His eyes lit up. “Great.”
He leaned forward and my heartbeat skyrocketed. My shoulders stiffened, and I drew in a sharp breath. He turned his head and his warm lips brushed against my cheek, then he stepped back, his face inscrutable. “Sleep well, Sandy. I’ll see you at the office on Monday. But if it’s okay, maybe I’ll call tomorrow?”
I nodded, mumbling an agreement. His smile was gentle, and he stroked down my cheek with the backs of his knuckles.
“Good night.”
I stumbled inside, shutting the door and leaning against it, shocked at the disappointment that flooded my body. My reaction to his closeness wasn’t one of rejection, but one of anticipation.
I had wanted him to kiss me.
He thought I was saying no. And Jordan, being Jordan, accepted it with understanding and grace.
I spun around and flung open the door, prepared to hurry down the steps before he drove off.
Except he was standing where I left him. Waiting outside my door as if he couldn’t bear to leave. Our gazes locked and held.
“I wanted to kiss you,” he said. “But you didn’t want that. Did I ruin the evening with the comment about Anna and Max?”