“I took Rachel sailing for the first time when she was four. Spent a whole summer teaching her knots. Bowlines, hitches, figure of eights. By the time she was eight she was sailing a Sunfish by herself.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“It’s a dinghy. It has a habit of capsizing.” Remembering made him smile and then he saw she’d turned green. “Alec’s boat is stable.”
“It doesn’t need a crew to sail it?”
“I can sail it alone. And I’d be happy to take a couple of passengers.” He saw her glance from Lizzy to the now heaving boat in the harbor.
“Well—if you’re sure. Thank you.”
Ryan glanced at his watch. “Can you give me an hour? I’ll meet you at the marina.” He figured that would give him time to part the multimillionaire from enough of his cash to ensure the Ocean Club had a good summer.
*
AN HOUR LATER Emily stood nervously at the marina, listening to the clink and creak of masts and the shriek of seagulls.
Was she crazy?
Learning to swim had given her a confidence boost, but not for a moment did she kid herself that swimming in a calm pool under Ryan’s watchful gaze would be anything like swimming in the choppy waters of Penobscot Bay. If Lizzy fell overboard, she doubted her ability to save her.
The only thing stopping her from backing out was the knowledge that this was her problem, not Lizzy’s.
Emily had spoken to the grief counselor regularly and been advised that outdoor activities were to be encouraged. Since Lizzy had started her swimming lessons with Rachel, there had been no more bad dreams, and she was sleeping in her own bed.
“There’s Ryan! And he brought Cocoa.” She sprinted toward him before Emily could stop her.
“Lizzy!” Her heart rate doubled, but she saw Ryan lengthen his stride and scoop the child into the safety of his arms.
“No running by the water. You might fall.”
“Yes, Captain Ryan.” Lizzy was grinning and wriggling like a fish in a net. As soon as Ryan put her down, Cocoa was in her arms.
Emily watched as dog and child greeted each other with mutual adoration. “The dog has her own life jacket?”
“Everyone does. Let’s start with Lizzy.” Once Lizzy was wearing a life jacket, he turned to Emily. “You’re going to wear this the whole time, and if you don’t feel safe or you want me to turn back, tell me.” He secured the jacket with strong, sure hands, and she thought to herself that feeling safe had more to do with the way he made her feel than a flotation device.
“If Lizzy falls in—”
“She’s not going to fall in.” His hands were firm on her waist, his gaze holding hers. “Do you trust me?”
It was hard to focus on anything when he was standing this close to her. She dropped her gaze, but that move gave her an eyeful of his chest and biceps.
“Yes, but even you can’t control the sea.”
“But I can ensure Lizzy’s safety.” He tightened the life jacket “And yours.”
“You have to sail the boat, and if she falls in—”
“No one is going to fall in. Unless you’re planning on stripping down to that red swimsuit, in which case it will be a case of man overboard, and you’ll be rescuing me.” Beneath the mild humor, she heard male appreciation and felt her stomach drop.
He was the only man who had ever made her feel this way, and she had no idea how to handle her feelings.
He whistled to Cocoa who clearly recognized it as some sort of signal because she wagged her tail enthusiastically and sprang onto the boat.
Next he scooped up Lizzy and put her safely on the deck with instructions to sit down and not move until he told her what to do, and finally he held out his hand to Emily.
The rise and fall of the boat mirrored the feeling in her stomach. “I could have spent the afternoon painting or making jewelry.”