“We’re going to the one on the end,” he said, his voice more melodic now that he wasn’t yelling over the motor. I shivered at how confident he was as he led me to where a sailboat waited, its lines groaning in the mild surge. When we reached it, he stepped to the edge of the dock and helped me on board, and then hopped onto the deck with a chuckle. “Welcome aboard the Midnight Runner.”
“Is it yours?” I asked. A limo, a car, a helicopter…and a boat? Where’s his spaceship?
He shook his head. “A friend’s. He lets me use it whenever I’m up this way. I love to single hand it for trips on the bay. It’s the perfect size for me – a Catalina 34.”
“Sounds like you have some great friends.”
“Especially the ones with boats,” he agreed, and motioned to the narrow opening that led into the cabin. “There’s a basket down there with too much food and a bunch of drinks. I thought it would be fun to go for a night cruise around the bay. I love being on the water when there’s nobody else around.”
I must have looked worried, because he took a step closer. “What is it?”
“I…I don’t know if I get seasick or not. I’ve never been on a boat before,” I confessed.
He looked out over the bay. “It’s pretty flat tonight. You shouldn’t have a problem.”
“I hope not.”
“Only one way to find out.” He walked forward and checked some lines, patted a windlass, and then glanced around a final time. “I’m going to cast off. You can hang out back here on the benches, or below. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”
I opted for one of the benches to the side of the wheel and watched as Jared moved around the boat with expert hands, checking lines and eyeing the mast before going below. Lights flickered on, and then a diesel engine coughed to life. He returned after a few moments and grinned at me, and then hopped from the vessel and moved to the bow line.
Once the boat was free of the dock, he maneuvered the wheel and throttle until we exited the mouth of the marina. He looked to me and slid from behind the wheel.
“Will you steer? I need to raise the sails.”
I blanched. “You want me to drive this thing?”
“Please.”
“I don’t know how.”
His expression turned somber. “There are two important rules to remember: don’t hit anything, and don’t run aground – which technically is hitting land, so sort of the same as the first.” He paused, seeing my discomfort. “Seriously, it’s easy. Just hold the wheel straight. I won’t be more than a minute.”
“What if you fall in or something?”
“That would be a good time to circle around,” he said, and laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”
He moved aside and I slipped behind the wheel. My hands were sweating on the steel rim as I watched him make his way to the bow, bring a line back, and wrap it several times around a windlass.
“How are we going to sail if there’s no wind?” I asked. The water was like glass, and as far as I could tell, there was no breeze.
“Don’t worry. There will be. I know the bay. Once we make it another couple of hundred yards, it’ll pick up. You’ll see.”
He raised the sails and resumed his position behind the wheel. Three minutes later, a mild wind began wrinkling the surface, and shortly thereafter he shut off the motor and we were moving along at jogging speed, the sails full.
I eyed him with admiration. “You really do know the bay, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes you get lucky.” He looked into the amber glow of the cabin. “Hold onto the wheel again for a moment and I’ll bring the goodies up.”
I did as he asked, a bit less nervously this time, and when he reappeared, he was holding an oversized picnic basket in one hand. He set it on the bench beside me and gazed over the bow.
“See? You’re doing awesome. A natural.”
I felt the color rise in my face and tried unsuccessfully to restrain the smile that pulled at my lips. I snuck a look at him standing with his chest out, holding a rope with a gloved hand like a Caribbean pirate, and my heart fluttered. Everything about him was so…perfect. And effortlessly so. What was I doing on a sailboat with him?
“I don’t know about that. All I’ve had to do so far is hang on,” I said.
“That’s ninety percent of success, right there. At least what I’ve seen of it.”
“Which is more than most,” I said.
He nodded agreement. “I’ve been fortunate.” Jared’s eyes flitted to mine and held them for a long beat. “You hungry?”
Something about his tone convinced me I should say yes, even though my stomach was a tight knot. Being on the water was relaxing and dreamlike, but Jared standing only a few feet away had me tense – afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. He seemed to sense my mood and approached with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll make sure we don’t crash into one of the islands.”
He brushed by me, and for an instant I could feel his body against mine. A thrill ran up my spine, and I felt the urge to lean into him, but then he was past me and holding the wheel, leaving me no option but to sit by the basket and look inside.
I gasped when I lifted the lid. Inside were all of my favorite foods – including strawberries and more Belgian chocolates. I removed the cold, sliced pesto-crusted chicken breast on sourdough bread – a familiar dinner I’d grown to love, and one of the few things my mom knew how to cook – and unwrapped one of
