Lyn felt the vibrations of the engines traveling through the deck, into the pit of her stomach. At least that was what she was trying to tell herself. She couldnβt be nervous could she?
The night was still and the moon was full. They were sitting at table for two, lit only by candles, on the top deck. When he offered to take her out, it was not dinner on a ship that she expected.
He was dressed in a suit and tie, she in a long black dress and heels. He was tall dark and handsome. He showed up at her house with a pink rose in hand and a smile on her face. It reminded her of the tales the girls used to dream, where they would meet a stranger in an unexpected locale, then be swept off their feet in romance. Lyn had not been swept, but the ambiance was certainly having its effect on her.
The moon lit the way for the ship to follow, casting a silver glow on the river. Its bow broke through the glistening stillness, leaving a wake of moonlight behind it. Over the lapping of the waves and the sound of the engine, barely a sound could be heard, except for the soft chatter of the two on the deck.
They talk of everything, but talk about nothing. The wine soothes their nerves and they find themselves more at ease. The wine warms her, and she can feel her tension melt away. She watches the reflection of the flickering flame in his eyes. It looked like the moon dancing on the shipβs wake.