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“And still roll on the floor laughing?”
Their eyes met over their laughter, and she remembered how they cuddled up in front of the television all night watching Monty Python tapes…among other activities. Her laugh slowly came to a stop, her smile faded. So did his. Good times.
She touched her notepad. “Well, those crazy days are behind me now.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Is not.”
He put on his sunglasses and concentrated on the water ahead. Her heart went pitty-pat again. Not a good sign. She felt an odd swell of pride as she studied him, captain of his boat, straight shoulders and lifted chin. Singing the words to “No Woman No Cry” with his slightly off-key voice.
She picked up the tape case to distract herself. “No wonder they laughed me out of that karaoke bar years ago. I thought this song was ‘Nose runnin’, nose wipe.’”
He laughed. “Is that what you were singing?”
“Well, could I help it if the darned screen wasn’t working right?”
“Well, you did trip and spill your margarita on the machine.”
“Only after you pinched my butt as I walked up there.”
He grinned, and then reached out toward her derriere. “I couldn’t resist.”
She held Sammy between them like a hairy shield. “Resist now, buddy!”
It didn’t have the desired effect. Dan laughed again. “Cassie, you really haven’t changed much.”
“I have, too!” She juggled Sammy and opened her notepad. “See! Look at all the items I’ve marked off my lists. I am an organized, sensible woman!”
He moved closer, making her feel not the least bit sensible. “And I’ll bet by the time you get off this boat, you’ll be crazy about me all over again.”
Lordy, she’d just gotten on the boat and she was already feeling kind of crazy. Not that she’d act on it. No way, uh-uh. She fumbled with her notepad. “See, there’s nothing about being crazy about you in here.” She moved her finger over Pick up doggie biscuits and Buy new pooper-scooper.
“I think I’m honored.” He scanned the list. “You don’t do anything that’s not on your lists, then?”
“Other than, you know, the basic daily stuff, no, not a thing, I live and die by these lists, these lists are what make me a responsible adult who doesn’t do impulsive things that could cause trouble for herself and others, and who doesn’t—I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” She backed away from him, took a breath and turned to her bad habits page. Beneath Cluttered desk, she wrote, Skimble scamble—again. She wanted to write Heart going pitty-pat over Dan—again but she held back, since he was watching.
He was assessing her with those hazel eyes of his. Then he took the pen and turned to a new page. He wrote Dan’s List and beneath that, Find out how much of the old Cass is buried beneath these silly lists.
She tugged the notepad back and wrote None!
4
DAN AND CASSIE FOLLOWED the shoreline of Keewaydin Island, a thin strip of land separating the inland waterway from the Gulf. Vacation cabins were sprinkled among the tall Australian pines, high up on stilts to prevent flooding during storms. She remembered where the land narrowed, the private little place known as Fantasy Island among the boating crowd. She and Dan couldn’t afford a honeymoon trip, so they’d camped out there over the weekend. Boy, had he made a fantasy or two come true.
She shook her head. Enough of those thoughts!
“Mosquitoes?” he asked, peering at her over the rim of his sunglasses.
“Yes, nasty little creatures.” She made a show of slapping her neck and then him for causing her errant thoughts.
“Geez, that one must have been the size of Sammy,” he said when she smacked a good one on his shoulder.
Sammy barked in agreement.
“It was,” she said with a solemn nod. “And there’s another one right there…” She started moving forward, but he grabbed her hand and linked their fingers.
“I’ll take my chances with the mosquito, thank you.”
“Fine. Let it suck all your blood out. I can use you as a flag to signal for help.”
He stared at her. “How can you talk like that and keep a straight face?”
She gave him an innocent look. She was startled by their joined hands and extricated herself. With a flush on her face, she forced her gaze out to the Gulf. “Wow, I forgot how beautiful it is out here.”
Green water stretched out to the west and seemed to drop right off the horizon. Two pelicans glided just a few feet above the water’s smooth surface hunting for breakfast. One of them dive-bombed the water with an ungainly splash.
He cut the engine and became very still. “I can feel them.”
“Feel who?” She looked around with a worried expression.
“The fish.” He took off his sunglasses and let the boat idle as he scanned the waters.
“Is this how you…sense them?”
“Shh…” He looked the picture of concentration. His eyes narrowed, zoning in on one spot, then another. His spread fingers followed his gaze, like one of those water-searching twigs.
All the boats in the area slowed their engines, and the men on board watched Dan, presumably waiting for the fishing god to choose his spot. She rolled her eyes. They sure did take this seriously.
“Shh,” he said again.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you were thinking.”
He pushed the gas lever and they headed for Shell Island, a spot of land where Capri Pass led to Marco Island. He found a place where the mangroves grew out over the water and dropped anchor. Everyone else tried to grab a place nearby, all fighting for position.
“I’ll bet you’re a popular partner for tournaments,” she said.
“I get a call or two. I used to have fishing-related companies sponsor me for the big tournaments, but now I sponsor myself. Then I get to keep all the money.” He opened a tackle box built right into the boat’s interior.
“I’m impressed. I didn’t realize you could actually make a living doing this.” She sat on the backbench next to him, studying the tackle in the shelves. “There are so many types of lures, so many colors.”
“Depends on what you want the fish to think it is: bugs, crabs or frogs.” She watched him tie the lure to his fishing line as though he’d done it a million times. Of course, he probably had. “Then you have to take water condition and time of day into consideration.”
“Sounds complicated.” She opened her bag and started pulling out the stuff she’d brought, and then readied her notepad. “Water bowl for Sammy, check. Sunblock, check. Fishing magazine, check. Mosquito repellent, check. Bottled water—”
“Good grief, Cass, did you bring your whole medicine chest?”
“Fifty-two percent of it. Dental floss, check. Bandages since we’re going to be around hooks, check. Spray bottle of water for when it gets too hot, check. Handi Wipes in case I have to touch a fish, check. I made a list of everything I thought I’d need. See? No more living by the seat of my pants.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, at least we’re saved if, horror of horrors, we have food between our teeth.”
“You remember what happened on our honeymoon, don’t you?”
His expression became sultry. “Quite often, actually.”
“Puh-leeze! I’m not talking about the great sex, the never-ending kisses, the baby oil incident or the skinny-dipping in the moonlight, I’m talking about the…the….” Her face flushed red-hot. “What am I talking about? Oh! I’m talking about forgetting the mosquito repellent, bringing only half of the equipment for the tent—”
“We remembered the wine—”
“But not the corkscrew.”
He tilted his head. “And the radio for romantic music.”
“But no batteries. And our clothes drifted away on the tide.”
He stepped closer and tugged at the sleeve of her shirt. “So we had to spend the rest of the weekend naked.”
She caught herself sucking on the butter rum. “And the tent fell down.”
“So we had to sleep under the stars.”
“With the mosquitoes.”
“So I had to cover you with my body all night.”
She swallowed hard. “And then it started raining.”
“And we made love in the rain.”
Her mouth went slack as he stepped even closer, her body heating at the memory of the rain washing over their slick bodies. Of making love with Dan, and worse, of loving Dan. “Dan, where were we going with this?”
His gaze caressed her mouth. “I can think of a few places.”
She knew he was going to kiss her. She also knew she wouldn’t stop him even though kissing Dan was definitely not on her list. Her heart went pitty-pat as she braced herself for the kind of wonderful kiss she remembered. And then something hairy bobbed up between them.
“Augh!” He backed up with a grimace, running his hand over his mouth. “He licked my mouth!”
Well, at least Sammy enjoyed the kiss. And that was far safer than Cassie enjoying it, which she knew she wouldn’t have. “You know how he hates to be left out.”
“I’m starting to remember.”
She snatched up the angler’s magazine and chewed the rest of her candy.
“What’s that magazine you have there?” he asked, taking it from her.
He kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of the boat, flipping open the magazine. “Oops.” The magazine fell into the water with a dull splash.
“Hey!” She leaned over the side and reached for it. Almost. Her fingers were a hair’s breadth too short. The magazine floated farther away. Just a little more, a tiny, little more…uh-oh. She couldn’t feel the floor of the boat anymore. She started to tip forward. She scrambled backward, her feet kicking in the air.
“I’ve got you.” His arms went around her waist. Unfortunately, he overcompensated a bit. And lost his balance. She supposed she could have helped, but she was distracted by the way his body pressed against hers. Because of that, and the way her body reacted in a flash of heat, she probably, very likely, twisted the wrong way. For a moment, he teetered on the edge, his legs and arms scrabbling for purchase.
She was fighting her own battle for balance, in more ways than one. If he grabbed her, he could easily send her over. Instead he pushed her backward…and tumbled right over the side of the boat. He landed in the water with a splash not very unlike the pelican she’d observed earlier.
“Oops,” she said when he came to the surface, water streaming over his hair and face.
“Oops? Is that all you can say? Oops?”
“While you’re in there, can you grab my magazine?”
Laughter from a nearby boat brought their attention to a young man holding his stomach. “Whatcha doing, Dan, trying to teach your sweetie how to fish by pretending to be one?”
“Hah, hah, hah,” Dan muttered, turning to face her. “Okay, sweetie, I saved your magazine.” He held up the sopping thing. “I hope my humiliation was worth it.”
Laughter began creeping into her voice. “My hero.” The more she fought the laughter, the harder it pressed against her sensibility until she was in a full-out gale. Oh, my, it felt good to laugh, so good, she wondered how long it had been since she had laughed like this. Even Sammy started yipping, running over to where she leaned against the side of the boat. She opened her notepad and added, Laughing at least once a day to her life goals list.
Dan swam toward the back of the boat and climbed up the ladder. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be distracting.”
She raised her eyebrows as he landed on the deck with a thud. “I’m not the one who fell in! I’ve behaved perfectly—you’re the klutz.” She tried hard to hold back any more laughter, turning and picking up the fishing pole he’d readied. “So, you going to let me cast this thing, or what?”
“I…you…argh!” He held out the magazine as though he were going to swat her with it, but tossed it to the bench instead.
“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” she said, remembering Pam’s earlier words.
He stalked up to her and pressed his wet, cool body against hers. If it was so cool, why was heat creeping through the layers of skin and muscle and zinging right into her bloodstream?
“I ought to throw you over my shoulder, take you down to the cabin and show you how cute I am,” he said in a low, husky voice that raised her temperature even more.
She looked up at him, all blustery with water dripping from his mouth. One drop landed on her own mouth, and she licked it off. Salty.
He lowered his head, and another drop landed on her lips. “I ought to kiss that look right off your face.”
The thought of that knocked her off-balance. Instead of the sober look she’d intended, a giggle erupted.
“Think this is funny, do you?”
She took a deep breath. “I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun.” Well, she could, but she wouldn’t, no way, uh-uh. “So, you going to show me how to fish or what, mister fishing god captain manly man?” She tried to pull the fishing rod between them, before she did something impulsive, but it snagged on something.
“I’m trying to decide whether to throw you overboard for shark bait or—”
“Er, Dan?”
“Don’t interrupt me. I’m trying to think up a juicier alternative.”
“But, Dan…”
“I know, I’ll tie you up with dental floss—”
