AT THE END of our movie date, I took Ashley home, walked her to the door of the guest house, and kissed her good night. There might’ve been more tongue and groping than a traditional good night kiss, but I managed to peel myself away and go home. I also spent a long time in the shower taking care of my raging hard-on, just like high school. That’s the part of the trip down memory lane I could skip. My hand is going to develop calluses soon.
Ashley’s slowly coming around and I don’t want to spook her. She’s wild and untamed. Or maybe more like a dragon who wants to both love me and annihilate me.
On Saturday, after I drop off ten goats and their trailer at a new home construction site in the woods, I drive down to the coffee hut in Clinton. Most of my business is like driving a carpool van. I pick up goats in one location and drop them off in another. We’re busy enough this summer that all the goats are out on jobs constantly. Word’s spreading around the island and we have a waitlist. I’m looking to buy a few younger goats to supplement the herd. Business is good. In fact, life is pretty good in general.
Unlike the old days when I stalked the huts, hoping to run into Ashley, this time I text her ahead of time. I’m kicking ass with being direct.
It’s a summer Saturday and they’re slammed with tourists getting off the ferry needing a morning hit of caffeine. I park and walk up to the open door. Inside, three women work in perfect synchronicity. Leaning against the jamb, I observe Ashley before I’m spotted. What can I say, old habits take time to fade away. She’s focused on managing the flow of orders, gently coaching the two other baristas. Wearing the uniform T-shirt, she’s the hottest barista ever. I might be slightly biased, but if a man can’t see her beauty, he’s blind. Hell, even a blind person could tell by touching her she’s beautiful. Not that I want the visually impaired groping her.
Selfishly, I want to be the only person doing any groping when it comes to Ashley. Back off, buckaroos.
Finally, she notices me, her lips lifting in a happy greeting. “Sorry, we don’t accept walk-ups. Or strays.”
“Good thing I’m neither.” I match her grin with my own. “I have a proposition for you when you have a moment.”
“In case you didn’t notice, we’re a little busy right now.”
“Ask your boss for a break.” Staring at her with my best sexy look, I run a finger along my bottom lip. After drawing her eyes to my mouth, I hope to remind her of our epic make out session at the movies last night. Showing up and expecting her to leave with me, or at least make out by my truck for seven minutes in heaven, is crazy. Even for me.
Whatever I’m selling, Ashley’s not buying. I might as well be trying to convince a penguin he needs a top hat.
She scoops ice into a row of cups. “Can’t. She’s a total hard ass.”
“I think I can win her over.”
A loose hair escapes her bun and hangs in her face. With an exasperated exhale, she blows it out of the way. “Give me five minutes. Ferry’s done unloading and I think this is the last of the rush.”
I don’t move to leave.
“You can’t stand there ogling me.”
“Why not?” I brace for her to call me on being rude.
“You’re distracting.” She brushes the curls from her face with her forearm.
I beam at the compliment. No matter if she intended it as one, or if she meant I’m an asshole, I’m taking it as a positive.
Right up until she closes the screen door in my face.
“Five minutes!” she calls from inside.
Dismissed, I pace over to my truck and pull down the tailgate. I hop up and sit facing the hut. Only four cars remain in line. I check the time on my phone. Sure enough, five minutes and a handful of seconds later, Ashley pushes the screen door open.
Loosening her bun, she shakes out her hair. Heat from inside the hut colors her cheeks pink. Flushed, messy, and smelling of coffee, she’s my dream girl. If this were a movie, the film would go into slow-mo and the rock ballad would play in the background. Sprinklers would spray her T-shirt, making it see-through, and then she’d shake her hair while laughing.
Okay, so the sprinkler and wet T-shirt part doesn’t happen, but she does laugh as she detangles her hair before wrapping it into another bun.
“What’s so important you couldn’t have texted me instead of loitering around like a deviant?”
“I want to take you sailing this afternoon.”
“You couldn’t text me?”
“It’s a date. I wanted to ask you in person. As one does.”
She gives me the full suspicious side eye look. “Sailing.”
“You, me, the wind, and the sea. It’s a gorgeous day and you’ve been cooped up in a tiny box all morning. You need fresh air. What’s better than the wind in your hair and the sun on your skin.”
“Can’t I pull a chair outside and get the same results?”
“Not even close to being equivalent. You know it. I know it.”
She scrunches up her nose as she considers my offer. “Hmm, I’ll be done by eleven.”
“I can wait.”
“You’re going to sit in a parking lot for an hour.”
“For you? Anything. An hour is nothing.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Only about you.” I grin. Of course I can’t leave the straight truth dangling in the wind. I have to add a joke at the end. “And if I’m being honest, goats.”
“At least I came in first.” Her lips form a tight rosebud.
“Sure. Tell yourself whatever makes it easier to sleep at night.” I pull her closer by her apron strings.
“I’m at work. I’m not going to make out with you in front of my employees. Might give them the wrong idea.” Despite her pursed lips and semi-scowl, her voice is soft and flirty. “Remind me why I like you and am willing to go sailing with you.”
“You like me. Like like me like me. You find me charming and irresistible.”
“And you have goats.”
“See? They’re the best.” Not caring who sees, I give her a soft, quick peck.
“I’ll swing by your place when I’m done.” Freeing her strings from my grip, she walks backward to the door. “Hold on for a second.”
She goes inside and then returns a few seconds later with an iced coffee.
“You’re the best, Ashley Kingston. Don’t ever change.” I jump off the tailgate and plant a kiss on her cheek.
“You’re welcome.”
“Now’s the part when you tell me I’m the best, too. Or mention how awesome I am. Handsome, too.”
“I should bring you a fishing pole. Make it easier for you to fish for compliments.”
“You’re too stubborn. Toss me a few crumbs.”
I wait patiently while she stares into the trees behind me. Her wrinkled brow and pursed lips exaggerate how difficult she finds my request.
“Don’t strain a muscle.” I rest against the truck’s bumper.
“You’re much better looking than your brother.”
“Pfft. Stating a fact isn’t a compliment. Try again.” I wrap the long string of her apron around my finger.
“You’re not terrible.”
“Go on.” I prod her by poking her side in the exact spot where she’s ticklish.
She giggles and squirms, but I’m tethered to her, and she can’t escape.
“Fine. And only because you’re torturing it out of me, I like you.”
It’s ridiculous how happy it makes me to hear her state the obvious.
“Like like?”
“Like like.” She bats away my hand. “Now go away. I have coffee to sling and baristas to manage. They don’t need to see their boss canoodling in the parking lot with some local island boy riff raff.”
A month ago, her words would’ve held an edge of insult. Now they’re teasing and full of promise. We’re on the road back to finding ourselves—who we once were and who we are meant to be. Together. We took a detour. If we’re a map, our lines split and went in opposite directions, seeming to never meet again. Until now. We traveled around the obstacle and once we cleared it, our paths rejoined. Here and now. Side by side again.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” Ashley points at me even though we’re the only two people on the sailboat.
“Yes, I control the wind like a god.” Above us the sail luffs in the dead air. The morning’s breeze promised a good day for sailing. Yes, I should’ve double-checked the actual weather report instead of going with my gut. I also should’ve made sure the engine had diesel. Another rookie mistake. Now we’re drifting with the current near Hat Island.
Wearing her sunglasses with the pointy cat ears on them, her hair in two braids wrapped around her head, she’s adorable. In a striped, long-sleeved top and jean shorts, she’s not dressed sexy, but she is. Unintentionally and unbelievably hot. The best kind of sexy because she’s herself and not pretending.
“I’m certain at least one Greek and Roman god pretended to be a shepherd.” In spite of me getting us stuck, her tone is humorous and teasing.
“Shepherds are for sheep.”
“Huh. I never thought about it. Goatherd doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“I’m stuck on you comparing me to a Greek god. Is it my amazing abs? Shoulders?” I duck my head closer to her. “Derriere?”
“You forgot fig leaf.” Her attention wanders down to my lap.
“As if. I’d need a giant hosta leaf at least. Maybe a banana leaf.”
She responds with giggles. “Why stop with a leaf? Maybe a juniper branch. Or a small cedar tree?”
“Small? I need a driftwood log.”
“Kind of huge to carry around.”
“Welcome to my life.”
Laughing so hard she rolls back onto the deck and almost falls off the boat, Ashley reminds me of her teenage self—carefree and a complete goofball.
“I’ve seen you naked, mister.”
“Then you know how I suffer on a daily basis.” I fight to keep from joining her laughter.
Unable to speak, she gasps for breath and waves her hands in my direction. “Stop,” she wheezes.
“I’m not sure how insulted I should feel right now.” I cross my arms and force a pout.
Wiping her eyes under her sunglasses, she manages to control her breathing enough to speak. “Your penis is fine. Stop fishing for compliments.”
“Fine? Fine? Sounds like you’re saying my love rod is adequate. Mediocre. Average. C grade manhood.”
She peers at me over her glasses. “Seriously? Are you insecure about the size of your dong?”
I lift an eyebrow. “Dong?”
“Whatever you’re calling it these days. What are you going to do about it if you think it’s small?”
“Small?” I cup myself over my jeans so my dick can’t hear her insult. “Whoa, now you’ve crossed a line.”
Resting her hand over mine, she adapts a serious tone. “Carter. I hate to be the one to tell you. The pills, creams, pumps, and whatever else the ads on the porn sites tell you to buy don’t work. You’re stuck with what the good Lord above gave you.”
“How do you know they don’t work?”
“If they did, wouldn’t there be more men walking around with giant dicks? Those Hammer pants would be all the rage instead of skinny jeans. Think about it. Men’s fashion would be revolutionized.”
As she spins her version of a world of huge dick pants, my mouth drops open. I stare at her full, deep rose lips as they form words. Her teeth are nearly perfect except for the slight overlap of one canine on its neighbor. I remember her braces in high school. I’m weirdly happy to see the tooth rebel from the straight line of her other teeth. Kind of like her refusal to conform. I’d never tell her this, but I love her stubbornness.
The dark tint of her lenses hides her eyes and I wonder if they’re bottle green or deep blue from the water.
“You’re not listening to me anymore, are you?” Her voice breaks through my thoughts.
I shake my head and slowly lift her glasses off her face, resting them on the crown of her head.
Deep, teal blue.
Her pale skin is rosy from the sun. I swear her freckles have multiplied.
I notice a pattern in the dots on her left cheekbone. Reaching out with my index finger, I trace the outline of a heart below her eye.
“Do I have something on my face?”
“No.” I flatten my palm, pressing it against her sun warmed skin.
Instead of jerking away or making a joke, she leans into my touch. Her lashes flutter before closing, hiding her eyes from my stare.
“Open your eyes,” I whisper.
She complies and squints into the bright sunlight. When I move closer, my head blocks the sun and she widens her eyes. I’m not sure if it’s because of the shadow or my proximity.
All I know is I’m going to kiss her in about two-point-five seconds.
She beats me to it. Her soft lips taste of salt from being on the water. I swirl my tongue with hers, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Stretching across the cockpit isn’t ideal for kissing. My fingers grip her biceps and I draw her to my side and into my lap. There’s something about holding her weight and wrapping my arms around her—makes me feel like I can protect her from the world. I’m invincible when I hold her.
Shifting our bodies, I slowly lay her down on the padded bench cushion flanking the cockpit. We could climb down into the cabin for complete privacy, but I’m trying to be a gentleman. Because I’m an idiot.
“What is it about boats?” she whispers against my lips.
“It’s not the size of the boat, it’s the motion of the ocean?”
“Too much talking. More kissing.” She follows through with a scorching kiss, taking charge and stroking her tongue against mine.
Without breaking contact, she tugs me closer until my body lies stretched on top of her. Encouraging me by widening her legs, I settle between her hips.
Waves from another boat’s wake lap the side of the hull, gently rocking us as we explore and connect. Sun warms my back, but a different kind of heat builds between us. Her calves link behind my knees and her fingers dip into the back of my shorts.
Resting most of my weight on my elbows so I don’t crush her, I’m limited in where I can touch her. I cup her cheek and bury my fingers in her hair. It’s not enough contact. I need more.
“Roll over,” I whisper against her ear.
She unhooks her ankles and we awkwardly move to the side as the boat rolls with another set of waves. Finally, her knees straddle my hips and she’s above me. Her breasts press into my chest when she kisses me. My hands are free to roam her body, and I take full advantage of our new position.
“I think this might be heaven.” I kiss and nuzzle her neck.
She slowly rolls her hips against my thick erection. “Or sweet, torturous hell. What do you think the odds are we’d get arrested for being naked on a sailboat?”
Memories of getting caught as teenagers flash through my head, tossing cold water on my lust.
“Knowing our luck and track record, pretty high.” I groan as she nips my earlobe.
“Why are we out here and not somewhere more private?” Her hands run down my white T-shirt until she gets to the hem and then they skate underneath pausing over my ab muscles.
I clench and tighten my abs under her touch. “We’re sailing.”
“We’re adrift at sea. Seems like an obvious way to pass the time would be to have sex.” She shifts and encourages me to roll on top of her again. “You could drop anchor and we can move to the cabin where you can ravish me properly.”
I want her. But I don’t want our second first time to be here. Not in a sailboat. Or in front of a goat. Not in the back of my truck. Or a quick lucky fuck. My mind drafts an X rated Dr. Seuss book about sex.
A boat horn sounds twice off to our left. We pause, our lips a breath apart. The horn blasts again. My eyes flash to Ashley’s before I sit up on my haunches. Heading toward us is a fishing boat with a familiar man behind the wheel.
When John Day pulls alongside us and cuts his engine, he’s all friendly smiles. He’s wearing a #1 Dad T-shirt, unironically. “Thought I recognized the Donna Louise. You get stuck out here when the wind died?”
Ashley pops up. Her once neat braids have turned into twisted bird’s nests and her lips are puffy from my kisses.
There’s no way in hell he doesn’t know what we were doing sixty seconds ago, but he’s the kind of guy who some might call a true gentleman. I want to be him when I grow up. Or Dan, who’s like the island version of Batman or Iron Man, without the suit.
“Hi, Ashley. How are you?” His smile is warm and without judgment.
She greets him with a wave. “Good. You?”
“Good. Good. I’d like some more sleep, but Alene’s been teething and Diane has heartburn at night. Babe and I’ve been camping out downstairs on the couch.”
Normal, boring conversation. We’re sitting here in the middle of the Sound chatting about nothing.
“You need a tow back in? Or are you good to wait for the wind to come back?” His words sound innocent, but his lips curl with a knowing half-smile. “Suppose you can see where the tide takes you. My guess is you’ll end up on Hat Island before dinner.”
I glance at Ashley and shrug. “Your call.”
“I vote for dry land sooner rather than later.”
Both John and I catch her exaggerated wink. He at least pretends to miss it.
“Tow it is.” I hold out my hand for him to toss me the line.
While I’m busy tying us off, John works on his end. “Never got the motor working again?”
“It’s been giving us some trouble, but it works most of the time. When I remember to fill the diesel.”
“Most engines prefer fuel.” Shaking his head at my stupidity, he tightens his knot. “You want to ride back there or sit up here with me?”
“If you don’t mind, we’ll join you.”
Once we’re onboard, he starts the engine. “Where to?”
“We have a slip at the marina in Langley,” I answer him.
He turns the boat toward Whidbey.
We go slow and spend the short ride talking about goats, coffee, wood, and the upcoming fair next weekend. Not once does he bring up Ashley and I being together or mention Tom. John’s a good guy. One of the best.
I offer to buy him a beer at The Dog House to thank him, but he points at his cooler and tells me he needs to get his salmon home.
“I have two good size chinooks in there. If you want to take one, you should. I’m picking up the crab trap on the way home, so we’ll have more than enough.”
“You sure?” I ask.
“Of course. You’d do the same. We help each other out, share when we can. It’s the unspoken island code, right?”
“Damn straight. I’m not turning down fresh caught wild salmon,” Ashley interjects. “Thank you.”
“No problem. It’s nice to see you, Ashley. I think living on the island again suits you.” John gives her a friendly smile.
She returns it with one of her own. “Once an island girl, always an island girl. This place is like the Hotel California in that old song. You can never fully escape.”
“Why would you ever want to leave paradise?” I ask, holding my hand to my chest.
“I’m with Carter. If this isn’t heaven on earth, I don’t know what is.” John’s not normally a sentimental guy, but I think marriage and fatherhood have softened him.
Sure, the younger me couldn’t wait to get off the island and move anywhere not surrounded on all sides by water. Now I can’t imagine being landlocked and sitting in traffic to be trapped inside an office while daylight burns away outside. Wake up and repeat in an endless cycle while counting days until my two weeks of vacation. No way. I probably won’t become a millionaire on renting goats, but at some point money stopped being my goal. What am I going to do with all those zeroes in the bank? Buy more goats?
Erik’s offered to fund purchasing some land and I’m thinking about taking him up on it with the understanding I’ll pay him back someday.
We reach the dock and John drops us off with a bag of salmon on ice.
With a sigh, Ashley watches his boat disappear. “Is it me or is John Day the nicest guy on the island?”
“Someone have a crush on the lumberjack.” I should raise my hand because I totally have a bro crush.
“Who doesn’t?” She sighs again. “He’s the complete package.”
“Should I pretend to be jealous?”
“Probably.”
I can’t be bothered to even fake jealousy. If Ashley wanted to be with someone else, there’s nothing I could do to stop her. And why would I want to? Despite her reputation, I know she’d never try to break up a marriage. And I’m learning that I have nothing to worry about. With the way Ashley kisses me, the only man she wants to be with is me.