He stared at the pathetic three sentences he’d written in the past two hours, then slammed his laptop shut. He’d already gone for one run that morning, but maybe a second would clear his head. He had to figure this out. He wasn’t obsessive over anything, so why now? And why her?
He heard a light knock on his half-closed door. Instantly his heartbeat tripled in time.
“Yes?”
Robyn pushed open the door and smiled at him. “The wind’s come up from the right direction, finally. I’ve chartered a small sailboat. She’s thirty-two feet, so it’s going to be lively out there. I wondered if you wanted to join me.”
She had on slim-fitting jeans, deck shoes and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her long blond hair was in a ponytail. She looked sexy and wholesome, and need poured through him until he couldn’t breathe.
“Sailing?”
She smiled. “That is generally what I do on a sailboat. You might have other experiences.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“I’m teasing. I’m a good captain. It’ll be fun. Say yes.”
“Yes.”
She laughed. “Just like that?”
With her, he would agree to anything.
She looked him over. “You’ll need to put on tennis shoes. Long sleeves to protect from sunburn. Sunscreen everywhere and a hat. Meet me by the car in fifteen minutes?”
“I’ll be there.”
She turned to leave, then faced him again. Her expression shifted to concern. “Do you get motion sickness?”
“Not as a rule.”
“On boats?”
“I don’t boat much. I’m an army guy. We travel by land.”
She eyed him. “I’m not addressing the military thing. As for you throwing up, I guess we’ll risk it. Motion sickness medicine can make you drowsy.”
“I won’t throw up.”
The smile returned. “If only wishing made it so.”
Sixteen minutes later, they were heading down the hill, Mason in the passenger seat.
“Have you ever been on a sailboat?” she asked.
“No. A couple ski boats. Fishing. This is the first time I’ve lived by water.”
“Then you’re in for a treat. Powerboats are great. They go fast, they have more room inside, the ride can be smoother, and you have a lot more control. But sailing is magical. It’s how the Vikings explored and conquered Europe. It’s how Drake became the first Englishman to sail the Straits of Magellan. I grew up sailing.” She flashed him a grin. “As opposed to boating.”
“I get the difference. You’re saying a sailboat is romantic.”
“I am. Thanks for getting that. Some people don’t.”
He wondered if her ex-husband was one of them. Or the cardiologist who hadn’t known what to do with her clit.
Don’t think about that, he told himself. Because he’d come up with about two dozen things to do down there, should he ever have the opportunity.
She circled the marina until she found a parking space. “I still have my six-pack license,” she said. “Just so you know.”
“You’re licensed to drink beer?”
She laughed. “No. A six-pack license says how many people I can have out on the boat. I haven’t kept up my other licenses. Harlow has more. Austin seems happier crewing.
“I miss my kids.” She shook her head. “Not the subject for today. Come on, Mason. Let’s pretend we’re Viking warriors.”
“I should have brought a gun.”
She laughed. “No shooting. I take it back. We’ll relax and let the wind take us where she will.”
“As long as we’re back by dark.”
Her gaze locked with his. “You have my word.”
They went into the rental office. Robyn filled out the paperwork and chatted with the kid behind the desk. They flung around terms he didn’t understand, but he could tell Robyn was impressive. When she pulled out a credit card, he got there first with his.
“I insist,” he told her. “You’re doing all the work.”
“That’s very nice, Mason. Thank you. I’ll repay you by making dinner. Just tell me what you like.”
Her, champagne and the sound of the ocean were all he needed. In fact, he could skip the champagne and the ocean.
They went outside, toward a row of slips where sailboats bobbed in the water. He immediately had second thoughts.
Robyn glanced at the paperwork the guy had given her, then punched a code into a security pad. The gate unlocked, and they went through it.
Everything was fine until they stepped off the sloping gangway. The entire dock shifted and swayed.
“Is this thing floating?”
She looked at him. “Of course. It’s a dock. What would it be anchored to?”
Land? Pylons? Elon Musk had a rocket that could deliver shit to the space station. Couldn’t someone invent a dock that didn’t move?
Robyn pointed to an impossibly small sailboat. “That’s our girl.”
He stood on the dock while Robyn stepped on board. She made the transition look easy. She stored the paperwork in the tiny cabin below—just the thought of which made him sweat. Then she checked the lines and the gas level in the small outboard. Finally she faced him.
“You up to this?”
Up was not a choice of words he would use, but he didn’t correct her.
“Sure,” he said with more confidence than he felt. He started toward the boat.
“Grab here.” She stepped close, pointing to a metal handle. “Swing your leg over. Be prepared for the movement.”
Shouldn’t the boat and the ocean move at the same rate, in the same direction? But they did not. His weight immediately set the boat to bobbing back and forth. Robyn shifted to the other side, amusement bright in her beautiful blue eyes.
She pointed to a bench in the middle of the boat. “Sit here while I run through a few things.”
He managed to cross the small open area, avoiding hitting his head. Once he was seated, she sat across from him.
“Still want to go sailing?”
“Yes.”
She watched him as she spoke. “Would you be more comfortable wearing a life jacket?”
Absolutely, he thought. “Do you?”
“Only if I think I’m going to end up in the ocean.”