He’d used her married name for the first time. She hadn’t been aware that he knew it.
“What you waitin’ for, girl? Let’s get this ol’ tub going!”
Dora reached down to grab the throttle and pushed it forward. The Whaler’s engine growled again and they took off along the waterway. Dora lifted her chin, feeling the vibrating, powerful engines under her control, the push of wind against her cheeks.
“Put a little muscle on it, Dora. You drive like a girl.”
Dora burst out in a laugh and accepted the dare. She gripped the throttle with her hand and pushed forward hard. The engines screamed as they churned water and the boat tore off down the Intracoastal Waterway. The boat bounced on the small waves like a bronco, cool droplets splashing her face, and the wind coursing through her hair, streaming it back like a flag. She let out a whoop while beside her, Devlin let loose a rebel yell. She hadn’t felt this alive in years.
Devlin stepped behind her and placed his hands on her waist.
“Just like old times,” he said, lowering his lips to her ear.
Dora leaned back against him, enjoying the feel of his hard body against hers. She slowed the boat, wanting to enjoy the moments as they cruised the waterway. She rolled her palms along the wheel, one eye on the shallows, the other on signals, passing slower boats with finesse.
“Stay left at the split,” Devlin called, pointing out the direction.
“Aye aye, Captain.” She veered left, maneuvering the boat to a narrow creek bordered on both sides with cordgrass growing so high that she could barely see over it. It felt more like they were traveling through a long tunnel.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “It’s getting narrow in here. If the tide goes out, we can get stuck.”
“We’re good here,” he told her with confidence. “This is deep water.” He leaned forward, his lips close to her cheek. “Don’t you remember where we are?” he asked, his voice suddenly husky.
She caught the scent of beer on his breath and enjoyed the feel of his chin grazing her skin. She studied the long stretch of cordgrass and for the life of her couldn’t remember. She shook her head. “No.”
“Keep going,” he told her encouragingly.
She drove the boat at a slower pace through the narrow creek before it opened up again to a wide area of water spotted with several small hammocks. The breeze picked up in the open area and brushed away the cobwebs in her memory.
“I know where we are!” she exclaimed, turning around to face Devlin, laughing. “This is our old hangout.”
He slipped his arms tighter around her waist and said teasingly, “More than a hangout, if memory serves.”
She blushed and faced forward again, her eyes lingering on the rounded hammock in the distance, a jungle of tall palm trees, live oaks, Chinese tallow trees, and shrubs. This had been their spot. The isolated place they’d anchor and make out and talk for hours. This secluded haven was where she’d lost her virginity. She smiled, realizing Devlin remembered.
“You ol’ horn dog,” she said with a playful push.
“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
He nuzzled her neck and she felt again she was racing along the Intracoastal.
“We can pull anchor right up yonder,” he said, pointing to a shallow spot near what had been their favorite hammock. “Seems as good a place as any to have some lunch.”
“Lunch? I didn’t pack lunch, just some things for us to munch on.”
“You weren’t supposed to. You don’t think I invited a lady out for a trip without seeing to the details, do you?”
“I don’t remember you ever bringing food to this hammock before.”
“Yeah, well . . .” Devlin rubbed his jaw in embarrassment. “I’ve grown up a bit since then. Learned some manners at my daddy’s knee.”
“Your daddy? I’ll wager you learned through trial and error with all the pretty girls you’ve brought to this hammock since me.”
“None of them were as pretty as you.”
Dora felt embarrassed by the compliment. Of course she wasn’t the prettiest.
“Stop it, Devlin. You don’t have to say that.”
“Say what? It’s the truth. You’re beautiful.”
“I said stop it,” Dora snapped. “We both know I’m not.” She turned her gaze away. “At least, not anymore.”
Devlin took the wheel as the mood shifted. Dora went to stand at the opposite side of the boat. Devlin brought the mighty engines to a stop and set anchor. The boat rocked lightly in the current, immersed in a sudden great silence.
Dora stared at a pair of white ibis standing in the shallow water along the shore, their elegant orange down-curved bills digging in the mud. They appeared so beautiful, so serene.
Devlin walked to her side and, taking her waist, turned her to face him. He took off his sunglasses. Then he reached out and took off Dora’s. This close, Dora could see the network of fine lines around his stunningly pale blue eyes. She couldn’t look away.
“Dora Muir Tupper,” Devlin said. “You’re still the prettiest girl I ever saw.”
When Dora looked into his eyes, she saw a pulsing kindness and sincerity that couldn’t be faked. She felt her own eyes fill with tears and thought to herself, Lord help me, I still have a crush on this man.
Their gazes locked. Everything that needed to be said was said in that long look, words that the intervening years had made too complicated for translation into syllables. Dora raised her arms around his neck, not worrying this time if her body wasn’t slim and perfect, if he felt more skin than was there before. He’d called her beautiful and she’d seen the truth in his eyes. She would, she decided, believe him.
When Devlin lowered his head, Dora knew that this time, she wasn’t a fumbling sixteen-year-old. No, not at all. She felt every inch a luxurious woman. As she pressed her curves against him, she thought, We are all Eve’s daughters.
It was late by the time Devlin drove Dora back to Sea Breeze. He kissed her good-bye once, then again, then once more. They giggled softly, each acknowledging that they didn’t want to stop. When, at last, she extricated herself from his arms, she adjusted her shirt and smoothed her hair, glad for the darkness.
“See you tomorrow?” he asked.
“Call me.”