QUEENIE BABY: On Assignment (21 page)

“I’ll give it a try,” I said. Despite living near the water most of my life, I didn’t have a lot of experience with boats. Especially boats like this.
 

A few minutes later, Mark fired up the engine. I stood next to him as he carefully maneuvered the boat from the slip. We headed down the inlet towards the bay. The sun was low on the horizon to our right.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He leaned over and said softly against my ear, “Off into the sunset.”

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

WE HAD THE bottle of wine and a tray of fruits and cheeses on the deck. Mark had set up a table in front of rattan deck furniture, complete with pillows and a blanket for the chill. We were anchored off Thomas Point State Park, located within a few miles of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. He had perfect timing, I thought, as I sipped wine and watched the sun approach the horizon.
 

"I'm impressed," I said clicking my glass to his and waving in the direction of the setting sun. "How did you pull this off?"

He shrugged. "I checked the weather today and saw how calm and clear it was supposed to be. Believe me, you wouldn't be so impressed if the wind was blowing right now. But I'll take the compliment," he said patting my leg.
 

Max took that to mean that he was wanted up on the sofa with us. Mark looked down at him. Max looked from Mark to me as if to say, what's his problem? I laughed and grabbed the blanket and tucked it around us. Mark poured some more wine and offered me the fruit and cheese platter. Max was tempted to beg, but he knew that would end his furniture-time. He curled up on the blanket with a sigh.

"I swear I can hear what that dog is thinking." Mark laughed and scratched Max's head. Max flipped over for a belly rub instead.

"Yeah," I agreed, "he has a way of making himself heard without a sound."

Mark leaned over and kissed me lightly. "This light suits you. You look like a golden mermaid." He played with the ends of my hair. Max growled. "Guess he doesn't like me kissing you," he said looking down at Max.

"No," I said, "you stopped rubbing his belly." I pulled the blanket over Max's head. He didn't protest. "So what else do you have on the agenda for tonight?"

"I thought we would cook dinner together," he said. "I bought some fresh rockfish today, maybe put it over pasta or rice?"

"Sounds wonderful. I love fresh rockfish," I said. Cooking in the close quarters of the galley kitchen located tantalizingly close to the big bed could get interesting, I thought, as the wine relaxed me and the evening's possibilities stretched before me.
 

"Could we get something out of the way?" he asked.
 

I tore myself away from visions of the big bed and faced him. He sounded serious. "Sure," I said taking a gulp of wine.

"Where do things stand between you and Rick?" he asked turning to face me.

"I don't know," I said honestly, returning his look. "Yes, I stayed at his house last night. I slept in the spare room. But I will admit there is still an attraction. I can't help thinking about what might have been. I also have my family telling me how wonderful he is and that I shouldn't miss my chance with him again." I sighed. Why did I have to have this conversation now? All I wanted was to watch the sun set and climb in that big bed.

"So where's that leave us?" he asked.

Might as well just rip the Band-Aid off. "I don't know you," I said. "But I know Rick. Yes, he's matured and changed for the better. He seems genuinely supportive of my career now. If he was like this twelve years ago, we would have never broken up. But I'm not sure that would have been best for me. My family wants me to settle down. Rick is definitely ready to settle down with me."

"What do you want?" Mark asked.

Interesting question. What did I want? "Well, I'm not ready to settle down yet. I don't want to move back to Dover. I don't want a real job—whatever that is," I said searching my heart for the truth.

"What do you want?" he pressed.

"I want to live in my little condo, play music, eventually sell some songs," I paused and looked up at him. "And I want to get to know you."

"Good," he said. "I want that too." He reached for my hands and pulled me to my feet. He wrapped his arms around me. I leaned my cheek against his rough wool sweater that smelled so divine. I raised my lips to meet his. Softly kissing him at first, and then I ran my tongue over his lips. He gave a little growl and pulled me closer. I felt him hard against me and I rubbed provocatively against him. He bit at my lip and said, "You keep that up and we'll be rolling around on the deck."

I laughed. "I was thinking more about that big bed below deck."

"You like my big bed, huh?" he whispered against my ear.
 

I felt a flush that was a tantalizing mixture of wine and desire spread through my body. The sun was sliding into the horizon and a chill breeze ruffled my hair. "Yes," I murmured and kissed him again.
 

He pulled away first. He held me at arm's length. "Just one more thing," he said earnestly. "During this getting to know me phase, Rick is out of the picture, right?"
 

That gave me pause. "I'm not with Rick, so I don't see how I'm supposed to break it off with him, if that's what you're asking." I had no desire to deal with that ugly scene or with the fallout from my family.

"Rick is in love with you," Mark said. "He thinks that once he proves himself to you that you two will be together." True, I thought. "You have to tell him that isn't going to happen or he's just going to keep trying."

"I'm not sure that would deter him," I said, thinking back to our conversation this afternoon.
 

Mark pulled back a little more. "Look," he said with a sigh. "As crazy as I am for you, I'm not going to be the odd guy out like I was at the bar last night. I felt like your husband had walked in on our illicit rendezvous. Ten years ago I probably would have cared less and I know we would've already been in trying out the big bed by now. But I don't want that anymore."
 

"You're right. I don't want that either. I handled that all wrong." I looked at the deck.
 

"So," he prompted.

"So," I said slowly, "I'll tell Rick that my date went great and that I'm seeing you. Exclusively." That was going to be a tough conversation. I didn't want to hurt Rick, but I couldn't deny my desire to be with Mark. Rick was comfortable and familiar. Mark was just as comfortable, but so much more exciting. I wanted to get to know him, have adventures with him . . . fall in love with him. He pulled me in closer and I tilted my face up for a kiss.
 

A few minutes later, we were getting carried away again. The deck was starting to look like a good option. A scratch on the leg and loud bark broke the spell. Max looked up at us and whined. "What's his problem?" Mark asked, pulling reluctantly away.
 

"Uh-oh. I know that look," I said. It was the ‘I've got to poop look.’ "Don't suppose you have a dog park on board?"

"Nope," Mark said. "I guess I didn't think this through. Can he go on the toilet or could we hold him over the side?"

Max and I looked at Mark like he was crazy. "Geez, you really know nothing about dogs."

"How about a box?" he asked. "You know like a cat uses. I probably could find a box."

"I don't think a box would work," I said. Max whined again. "Could we head to shore?" I asked.

"I guess I could move closer to shore and then take him over in the dingy," he said staring longingly at my lips.

I had a life-sized picture of Max and Mark being lost at sea in the dingy. "Maybe we should head back to the dock. I'm not sure how he would do in the dingy. I hate to ruin your plans," I said leaning up to kiss him.

"No worries," he said and pulled me against him. "The bed works fine no matter where the boat is."

Another whine from Max settled it. I watched the orange and pink horizon where the sun had been as Mark pulled up the anchor and started the engine. "Thanks for interrupting my romantic date," I said shaking my finger at Max. "You had better go when we get back." His tail drooped and he skulked back into the cabin.

*****

After some cussing and coaxing, Max finally did his business. I’d left Mark at the boat to get started on dinner while I searched out a spot for Max on Dock Street. On my way back, I stopped by my car and grabbed my guitar. The smell of rockfish seasoned with Old Bay greeted me as I climbed onboard the boat. Max sniffed appreciatively. "None for you," I said sternly. Mark had thought to bring Max's food.

"Smells delicious," I said walking down the narrow stairs into the galley kitchen.
 

"Me or the rockfish?" he asked stirring something on the stove.

I laughed. "Both. How's it going?" I asked and kissed him lightly.
 

He put down his spoon and pulled me against him. "Not so fast," he said and kissed me again with feeling. Max scratched at his leg. "Not again," he moaned.

"No," I said, "I think he wants to eat now."
 

"Geez, it's like having a kid," he complained.

"Tell me about it," I said digging around for his bowl and food.
 

Max had nothing to say. He was hungry and we were his servants. Simple.

"I need more wine," Mark said.
 

"I'll make myself useful and open a bottle. You look like you're doing great in the kitchen. I wouldn't want to wreck it," I said. There was an impressive wine cooler in the spacious living/dining area. I uncorked a bottle of expensive looking white.
 

I handed Mark his glass. "I see you brought your guitar. Why don't you serenade me while I finish up in here?" he asked.

"Sure. Any requests?" I asked.

"Something original," he replied.
 

"I've got just the thing," I said and carried my wine back into the dining area and took out my guitar. I pulled a chair up to the galley entrance and strummed a few notes. I fiddled with the tuner. "I wrote this about the Chesapeake Bay," I said and launched into the sweet, melodic song that sounded like something John Denver would sing. The song reminded me of warm summer days spent playing outdoors on little decks and patios around town. Every bar and restaurant wanted to be able to boast outside seating and live music during the busy tourist season.

"I loved that," Mark called from the kitchen. "That must go over great around here."

"Yeah, I get a lot of requests from locals for that one," I said. "Let's try something more upbeat." I sang a couple of Jack Johnson songs and then Mark announced dinner was ready.

We ate by candlelight at the heavy oak dining table. The rockfish was amazing, the conversation stimulating, and the sexual tension was building. "Delicious," I purred and sipped some more wine. I had just enough buzz on to make everything soft and fuzzy.
 

He took my hand and kissed the palm and then the wrist. I sucked in my breath. "You," he said working his way to the inside of my arm with his lips, "are delicious." His lips sent shivers down my arm and a fever through my body. All the good parts were in overdrive.

Max barked. "Shut up, Max," I yelled. Then I heard it.
 

"Yoo-hoo," a girly voice called down the stairs. "Are you down there, Mark? Come out come out wherever you are," She sounded drunk and overly friendly. I heard her heels clicking on the stairs before I saw her.

Mark was out of his chair and moving to head her off. "Megan," he called. "I'll be right up."
 

"No," she said coming down the stairs. "I'm coming into your lair." She looked like she had walked off of the Jersey Shore. Dark straight hair, over-done eye makeup, big boobs in too small a dress. "Oh," she said looking at me, "I see you have company. Guess I should have called first."

Mark ran a hand through his hair. "What are you doing here, Megan?" he asked.

"Well, Daddy had business here, so I tagged along for the ride. I saw your boat when we pulled in. It's been months since I've heard from you," she scolded.
 

"I've been in Atlanta and there was no reason for you to hear from me," Mark said.
 

"Oh, Mark, you can't still be mad about what happened last summer. I was silly and young then," she said.

"I'm fine with last summer. But I'm not happy about right now," Mark ground out. "You need to go."

"Oh, whatever," she huffed. "You always were such a square. I don't know why I ever gave you the time of day." She flipped around and headed for the stairs. She paused and shot me a nasty look. "That bed's not as comfortable as it looks, sweetheart."

I smiled and gave her the finger. Max growled at her. She acted like she was going to come down the stairs after me, but ran into Mark's chest. "Go," he ordered.

I heard some more squabbling up on deck and then there was silence. I poured more wine. Maybe I should just get drunk. Max leaned against my leg in sympathy.

Mark came down the stairs. "I'm so sorry," he began.
 

I held up my hand. "Hey, I'll be the last one to throw stones in this situation. She looks like a lively one," I added with just a little snark.

"That was during my Jack Daniel’s summer, as I fondly call it," he shook his head ruefully. "I'm not proud of it. And I only saw her for a couple of weeks."

I stood up and started clearing away the dishes. "I guess we've all had those kinds of summers," I said thinking back to last summer. I worked at cleaning up the kitchen while Mark finished in the dining room. Things were a little tense. The date had taken a wrong turn and I wasn't sure it was going to get back on track tonight.

Mark came up behind me and put a stack of dishes in the sink. "Don't worry about all this," he said indicating the messy kitchen. "I'll take care of this later."

"No," I said. "You cooked, I'll clean."

 
I finished up a few minutes later and found him sitting on the over-stuffed couch drinking what looked like a Jack and coke. I took the glass from his hand without a word and took a swig. Nope it was rum. I sat down on his lap and handed him back his drink. I leaned back into his broad chest. The rough wool sweater he had worn outside was gone and replaced by a soft navy t-shirt.