Freshwater Kisses (The Kisses 3)

"Would it be okay if I saw you again?" he asked, as though he had heard the words inside my mind. I couldn't have stopped the smile that spread across my face even if I had wanted to.

"I would like that very much. I've missed you, Robbie."

"I've missed you too, Sam. I tried to find you after you moved, but my calls never went through." His legs pressed against the bed as he looked down at me. A surge of happiness went through me that he had looked for me too. "Things are always better when you're around."

He paused, as though he wanted to say more, but then Dr. Robins walked into the room. Robbie nodded to doctor and raised his hand in a wave as he headed toward the door. "I'll see you soon, Sam," he called. And then he was gone again.

Dr. Robins began asking me questions, checking me out one last time so I could go home, but my mind wasn't on him. It was on the man that I knew as the boy with the bucket at his feet.

Chapter 8

I blinked as I stepped into the bright afternoon. After the dim restaurant, the sunlight seemed almost unnaturally bright. The sky was still a cloudless blue, and the water smelled salty and clean as it came off the ocean. The afternoon was almost unseasonably warm, and it felt surreal to have the warmth with the fall colors filling the trees. Despite my manager's best efforts to make my life miserable, it was a beautiful day.

"And Sam, if you miss another shift—you're fired!" Mike called out before the door swung shut. I didn't even turn around; I just kept walking. It was a gorgeous day, and I wasn't about to let him spoil it. He had been pissed about my missed shifts and had cut my hours just like I suspected he would. Normally, I would have been panicking, but I knew the money Rachel had promised had already been wired into my bank account.

The freedom of knowing that my credit cards were going to be paid off and that the tuition for Avery's private school was covered, despite losing my work hours, was fantastic. I could hop, skip, and sing because I knew I had at least a little bit of financial flexibility.

I hummed softly as I walked along the dock. Fishing boats bobbed gently in the distance, the white of their paint like extra wave caps in the distance. It was a perfect afternoon. If I had my windsurfing gear, I would have been out on the water in an instant.

I stumbled on a loose board, catching myself before I fell. My side burned and I grimaced, pressing my hand into my bruised rib. The rib was healing, but it still hurt if I breathed in too deeply. My wrist was no longer swollen, but I was still babying it. A couple of days more, and the bruises would be faded and I'd be back to my old self. In a week, no one would even be able to tell I had been in an accident in the first place.

I waved to Sheriff Matt as I walked up alongside his boat. It was a simple motor boat, perfect for fishing and day trips. I could see his poles and gear all stashed neatly in a corner as he pulled into his slip.

"Catch anything good?" I called out, grabbing his line as he threw it toward shore. I deftly secured his small fishing boat as he hopped onto the dock, carrying a cooler of fish.

"A couple of bass. You want one? I end up storing half of what I catch in my freezer until I'm sick to death of fish. You and your sister can have one on me," he offered. I thought about it for a moment but shook my head.

"Avery is going through a phase where, in addition to only wearing her princess costume, she will only eat things that are orange or green. Or chocolate." I gave him a smile. "So unless your bass is orange, green or made of chocolate, I'm afraid it won't get eaten at our house. Thank you, though."

Sheriff Matt laughed. "No problem. I'm sure I'll find something to do with it." He looked me over, obviously checking to make sure I wasn't still banged up from the accident. "How's Robbie doing? I haven't seen him for a couple of days, but I heard he stopped by the hospital to see you."

"He did. He's having a hard time getting over his dad's death. I think it's gonna take him a while to really accept it. At least they went out on good terms, but... I know how hard it can be to lose a parent. It hurts so deep, and that just never goes away." I looked down at the wooden planks, remembering my own grief. My heart ached for Robbie. This wasn't something that could simply be gotten over. "I'm supposed to meet up with him later this week. I'll tell him you said hi."

"I'm sure he'll just love that," Sheriff Matt said, rolling his eyes. "He's got potential. I just wish he'd see that. You sure you don't want a fish?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, nodding vigorously.

"I'll see you around, then. Have a good afternoon," the sheriff called out as he limped back toward the County Jail. I watched him for a moment. I knew he had been in the Army, but he never spoke about his injury. The way his eyes clouded whenever anyone mentioned it, though, I had a feeling it was not just a physical injury that caused the pain.

I continued along the dock. The smell of fish and seaweed brought back happy memories of my childhood. I had spent most of my days out on the ocean, playing with Robbie on boats or in the water. Even at school, sailing was all that Robbie and I ever talked about. We had big plans to sail across the ocean and see the world. Those plans had seemed so important back then.

I came around to a marina slip that was usually empty. I considered it my "dream" stall. It was where I liked to launch my windsurfing gear, and where I someday hoped to put a boat of my own. Where I was expecting an empty space, a beautiful, shiny new J111 racing sailboat sat bobbing gently.

I whistled softly, looking her up and down. She was just big enough that you could fit a party on the deck, but small enough that two could easily sail her. She had a strong, tall mast and what looked like new sails. I knew from experience that when properly handled, she would fly like the wind across the water. She was a beautiful, fast racing boat.

"Do you like it?" Robbie asked, stepping out from behind me. He had on his typical sailing gear of windbreaker-like pants and a tight fitting rash-guard shirt. His muscles, honed from years of sailing, were prominently displayed through the thin fabric.

"What do you mean, 'do I like it'? It's a beautiful boat. You win races with that kind of boat," I answered.

"Good. She's yours." Robbie watched my expression carefully as shook my head, trying to figure out exactly what he meant

.

"You're giving me a boat?"

"Yes. I figured it's the least I could do. I knew you could always use something to race in, so I thought this would work. Do you like it?" A hint of concern that I might turn him down entered his voice, but he did his best to keep it hidden.

He needn't have worried. This was the boat of my dreams.