“So, no.”
She smiled and stood, showing him how the bench seat concealed storage. “They’re in here.” She pointed to the rear of the boat. “That’s the stern. We use that long stick, the tiller, to steer.”
“I thought the wind pushed us.”
“It does, but we can influence our direction.” She slapped the large metal pole sticking out of the middle of the boat. “This is the mast. The mainsail goes toward the back. Depending on your tolerance, we might use a jib as well. That will go toward the front. Now let’s talk about the boom.”
She loosened a line and showed him how the boom swung back and forth. “I’ll shout out a warning when you need to duck. The standard phrase is ‘coming about.’ For you I’ll probably just yell ‘duck.’”
“I’m good at following orders.”
“An excellent and rare quality in a man. In this case, you need to listen. If the boom hits you, it’s gonna hurt. Even more to the point, it could push you into the water, and then you’ll be sorry you’re not wearing a life jacket.” She smiled. “I will say I’ve never lost anyone overboard, so you’ll be fine. Ready?”
No. Every instinct screamed at him to get back on land where he belonged. But the thought of spending a couple of hours alone with Robyn on this tiny piece of fiberglass was more compelling. He liked the idea of her being in her element. He wanted to see her with the wind in her hair, sailing, laughing. He wanted the experience—apparently more than he wanted to live.
“Ready.”
She directed him to loosen the aft line but hold it in place so the boat didn’t drift. They used the small motor to back out of the slip. Once free of the marina, she raised the mainsail, shut off the engine and headed out into the ocean.
For the first twenty minutes, Mason tried to absorb the experience. Sailing was quieter than he’d expected, and he quickly adjusted to the movement. Once his stomach settled down, he was able to enjoy it. Every now and then a wave struck their bow, and he could taste the salt water on his tongue.
Seagulls swooped down and called out greetings. The small boat skimmed across the water, faster than he would have thought possible.
“This is great,” he said.
She gave him a blinding smile that kicked him in the head and the dick. “Feeling brave enough for me to put up the jib?”
“Sure.” Not that he had any idea what would happen.
She motioned for him to slide back toward the tiller, then put his hand on the stick. “Keep us pointed in this direction. I’ll get the sail ready.”
She pulled a huge bag out from the tiny cabin, then hooked the sail to the mast, pulled it up and tied it off. The boat jumped forward and started to lean. Wind caught the sail, billowing it out.
“Watch your head,” she said, raising her voice to be heard. “We’re going to come about. I’ll give you two seconds warning, then duck and shift to the other side.”
“You mean move seats?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why?”
“Now. Duck and move.”
He dropped to his knees so the boom swung over his head. He scrambled to the other side. Robyn joined him, hanging on to the tiller and the line controlling the jib. She let it out a little more, and the boat leaned into the wind, the far side dipping perilously close to the water.
He wanted to ask what happened if they went in, but decided he didn’t want to know. Instead he watched Robyn, obviously in control and enjoying herself. If she wasn’t worried, he wasn’t.
She scooted closer, then handed him the line. “Hold on tight. I want you to see what happens when you draw in the line versus letting it go. You can feel the difference in how the boat moves.”
He did as she suggested, feeling the response in the sail and the movement of the boat. A wave doused them with cold water. The rope slipped, but he didn’t let go.
They sat like that for a long time. He could see other boats in the distance and to the east, the shoreline. Once he thought he spotted Lillian’s house, but that could have been a trick of the light. After a while, Robyn had them shift to the other side as they circled through the ocean. The sun moved across the sky, marking time, but he could have stayed out here forever.
Eventually she took down the jib and stuffed it into the cabin. The boat immediately slowed and righted itself. Robyn handed him a bottle of water.
“Hungry?”
“I’ll wait.”
She sat across from him, one hand on the tiller. “How’s your stomach?”
“Pretty good, but I don’t want to test it.”
“Smart. I have very thick pork chops marinating back home. I was thinking baked potatoes and fresh tomatoes from the garden.”
His mouth watered. “I could eat that.”
“Good. Being on the water always makes me hungry. I like to think I burn enough calories that I can afford the big dinner.”
“You worry about your weight?”
“Worry is strong. I think about it.”
“Then you have no idea how good you look.”
The words fell out before he could stop them. Her gaze met his.
“I could say the same about you.”
Holy shit! Had she really said that? Had she meant it? She thought he was...what? Interesting? Sexy? Or simply not hideous?
She looked past him to the horizon. “I love it out here. When my kids were young, we’d go sailing. Just the three of us.” Her mouth turned down. “My ex isn’t into sailing as a sport. Oh, he charters them and has crew for the bigger sailboats, but it’s not his thing. He’s into getting there fast.”
“Physically and metaphorically?”
She laughed. “Exactly.” The humor faded. “Austin’s having a sucky summer with his dad. I’m not sure what he expected from the job, but he’s definitely not happy. He’s not saying much, but I can tell.”
“And Harlow? Are you two speaking yet?”
“We’ve exchanged a few greetings. She says everything is fine, but I worry.”
“You’re a good mom.”
“I hope so. I’ve made mistakes. When Harlow had leukemia, it was a terrifying time. She knew she was sick, but we didn’t tell her that it was really serious.”
“As in she could die?”
Robyn nodded. “We wanted to protect her and thought telling her the truth would scare her.”
“Makes sense.”