Like father like daughter, Imogen mused. The slight shake of her head seemed to cut off Ethan who looked ready to endorse his child's invitation. Instead he quipped 'Sorry Imogen the beds only made for two.' His hopeful look suggested a different two than presently in residence.
'Are we going anywhere in this dingy or are we just going to stay next to the wharf enhancing your image?' Imogen threw the comment over her shoulder as she turned and ascended the stairs in dire need of fresh air not laden with double entendres and unspoken invitations.
'Dingy!' roared Ethan below. 'Did you hear that Chloe? That philistine called my boat a dingy!'
'I thought a dinky had wheels Dad?'
Ethan burst out laughing and exacted his revenge with tickling, his squealing daughter begging him to stop. He regretted that he couldn't mete out the same to a certain petite brunette above.
She'll keep.
Imogen breathed in deeply; glad to drag in air free of Ethan's scent and wicked words though his deep laughter still reached out to her. Were his words though wicked or should they be taken at face value, the slips of the tongue just that? Was it only her emotions finding meanings which weren't there? Her feelings merely reflected not felt?
Another imponderable. Every day more questions posed than answers found. After the party she vowed she would set about reversing that state of affairs.
The trip out of the harbour was exhilarating as the Pacific rolled in through the rugged heads that jutted out proudly protecting the harbour of Port Jackson. The powerful craft made light work of the swell, even cutting effortlessly through the wake of a mighty Manly ferry.
Once out on the ocean Ethan let the engine have its head as they hurtled up the coast to the calmer and mostly untouched wilderness of Broken Bay.
Chloe and Imogen basked in the glorious sunshine at the back of the craft, the ride in open waters remarkably smooth. One sat enraptured by the view across the water - seagulls wheeling over tall jagged cliffs and beautiful beaches, some developed, some pristine. The other sat enamoured more by the view forward, the play of muscles under Ethan's polo shirt and the tight butt straining sinfully weathered denim shorts, legs splayed for balance if not effect.
So engrossed in their respective sceneries neither noticed that the boat had entered the quiet unspoilt harbour that lay 1 hour north of the greater Sydney urban area. The steeply rising shoreline and National Park status had served to largely maintain an environment first found by Captain Cook 200 years before and one home to the indigenous population for 1,000's of years before that.