At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles)

“I’m not exactly dressed for it.”

He shrugged. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure I have a jacket and blankets if you get cold on the water.”

I responded by hopping out of the car. He immediately took my hand again and led me out onto the dock. A lock had been added since we’d last been here, and he punched in a code that let us into the marina. His same sailboat sat where it had been all those years before. It had been spruced up in the intervening years, and he jumped onto it like he’d been born on the water.

He offered me his hand, and I stepped precariously onto the thing. It rocked under my feet. I stumbled forward, catching the wheel to keep from falling.

I winced. “Sorry.”

He chuckled, already moving about the boat with ease. “You’ve never been out. I’ve seen worse on a first run.”

“Great,” I grumbled. I watched him work for a few minutes. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Do you know anything about sailing?”

“Uh, that’s starboard,” I said, pointing off to the right.

“Correct.” His smile was megawatt when he glanced back at me. “I can show you some things to do, but maybe you should just sit.”

“Sitting isn’t so great right now.”

He nodded, a flash of sympathy in his expression. “Okay. Untie that line but hold it steady.”

The next half hour was spent not thinking about anything at all. Not a thing, except how to make this sailboat functional. It took a lot to make it do its thing. Derek claimed it was all really easy and would become instinctual with a little practice, but I doubted it. He’d been doing it since he was a kid, so of course, he thought that. I thought aerials and a la second turns were also instinctual, but I wasn’t about to ask him to do any.

“All right, hold the wheel,” he said as he jerked on a rope. “This is tacking.”

The boom thumped to the other side of the boat, tilting us slightly to the left. He tied off the rope, the sail caught in the wind, and then we were heading gently in the other direction.

“That’s about it. You tack when you want to change direction into the wind. Luckily, we have the wind today.”

My mind was whirring. “That was a lot of information.”

“You’re smart. You can handle it.”

“I work in a lab all day, and somehow, this was more taxing.”

“Physical labor stretches you.”

I shrugged as he came around behind the wheel. I stepped aside, but he kept me in place, wrapping his arms around mine and clutching the wheel. His body encased mine. I leaned against his chest, dropping my head back onto him. He ducked his head down and kissed my neck.

“I’m glad you called me.”

“Me too,” I said.

This was apparently what I needed. The physical side of getting a sailboat moving. The salty, humid wind in my face. Water surrounding me on all sides as we headed toward the bay.

We stood like that on the water until he had to tack again. I got the hang of it after we did it a few more times. It certainly wasn’t second nature. He had instincts on the water that had come from years of doing this. But I also understood why he loved it as much as he did. He was entirely himself out here. No one else. He didn’t have to act. He didn’t have to be his father’s son. He could just be a man on his boat. A man in control of his destiny.

Eventually, he let the sail back down and sat us in the middle of the bay, overlooking seven different islands. We bobbed in the water as he helped me walk out onto the bow of the boat. He dropped down cushions from the interior of the boat, and we cuddled up together with nature all around us.

“Derek,” I said.

He was running a hand down my arm. “Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“Sailing.”

I laughed softly. “I mean, what are we doing?”

He propped himself up onto an elbow and looked down at me. “What do you want us to be doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then, we can keep doing this if you want.”

I cupped his jaw in my hand and then drew him down for a kiss. He responded instantly, opening my mouth with his tongue and sliding his inside. We kissed for a few minutes, unhurried.

“You don’t kiss friends like that.”

He chuckled. “No. Not any friends I’ve ever had.” He brushed back my wild curls. “But you’ve had a rough week, and we don’t have to define anything right now. We can take our time. We can just enjoy what we have.”

“Do you want to define it?” I asked softly, meeting those hazel eyes. “Do you want me?”

“More than anything.”

I blinked at his blatant statement. There had been no hesitation. No question in his voice. No wondering if he wanted this or not. He’d already made up his mind, and he’d been waiting all this time for me to get there too.