Dawn felt the big boat move, and tensed, remembering again where she was. She sat up straight, and looked out the window, watching the jetty recede, and the people still milling about on it get smaller. The boat rocked faintly, and she swallowed. It was not as bad she had originally thought, but what on earth would she do if this thing capsized? She couldn't swim, and she knew no one on the boat. She opened her pocketbook and searched for the little notepad and pen. Extracting them, she began a perfunctory listing of the things and people she observed on the boat. She had developed this habit when she was a very young girl, when she had had to find a way to relieve anxiety.
She became so absorbed that she failed to notice that someone had joined her on the banquette until his newspaper brushed her leg. She looked up blankly, and then her mouth dropped open.
"Brad?" Her startled eyes flew to his. "What are you doing here?"
"Same thing you're doing," he replied brightly. "Going to Nantucket."
He stared at her for a second, and then lowered his head. Dawn was too startled to realize his intent until she felt his mouth brush hers.
"Good morning, Didi!" He smiled at her. "I've only been wanting to do that, and more, for a year!"
He watched her face in amusement as she tried to assimilate what he had said and what he had done. He bent his head again, but this time she moved away, and his lips landed on her cheek.
"Hey, no fair!" he complained, chuckling good-naturedly.
"Stop it, Brad!" she whispered, so low, he could barely hear her. "What do you think you're doing?" She glanced around her as she spoke, but no one seemed to even be aware of their existence.
"I won't stop," he said, "but I can wait till we get to the island. After all, I've already waited a whole year. A couple more hours can't hurt."
He smiled at her and went back to his newspaper, while she watched his face surreptitiously. When she thought he was unaware of her scrutiny, she took in the full lips, the high cheekbones, the sandy blond hair, the sinewed arms and strong legs, the dimple in his cheek...he knew she was looking at him! He was smiling. Dawn felt her cheeks flame, and she dragged her eyes away to look out the window. Suddenly, she remembered his words from a few minutes ago. What did he think?
"Just exactly what do you think is going to happen this week, Brad?" she asked sharply, turning back to him. "Why do you think I'm here?"
Brad's eyes slowly took in the woman sitting next to him. She was his height -- five ten, milk-in-coffee-colored skin shimmering next to his pale skin. She was soft and round, and the scent of her, under the sensual perfume she wore, lit him up like a Fourth of July firecracker. He felt the sparks in the tips of his fingers, and the heat seared him and stirred his loins. He did not understand why, and after about the first four months, he didn't care why, but Dawn made him burn, and glow, and want, and need. She also made him laugh and cry. She often left him speechless.
"I think," he said at last, "that I will get what I've wanted for a whole year!" He stopped speaking and just watched her, an amused expression on his face.
"And what have you wanted for a whole year, Brad?" she wondered, meeting his gaze squarely. The fire that she saw flaring out at her had her trembling slightly and gripping the notebook and pen she held in her hands.
"You!" was his succinct and heated response. He deliberately turned back to his paper, and left Dawn to fret and worry the rest of the trip over. In fact, she was so preoccupied worrying about Brad's answer that she had no energy left to be nervous about being on the boat. She did manage to get her breathing under control by the time she was being ushered off the ferry.
"Right this way, beautiful!" Brad said, his hand at the small of her back. She let his gentle touch lead her to his car, a Toyota Camry, waiting in the parking lot. As he ushered her around to the passenger side, she scolded herself.
"You're forty-five years old, girl! He's young enough to practically be your son. You just feel flattered by his attention, that's all. Nothing else is going on! And nothing will happen but what YOU want to happen!"
The pep talk helped her stiffen her spine and buckle herself into her seatbelt, but when he stretched over her, ostensibly to check that her door was properly closed, because the door light remained on, her heart jumped right back into her throat, and she could feel the rapid pulsing of it in her veins.
He talked about nothing and everything between the boat dock and the small Bed and Breakfast she had chosen to stay in. It was tucked away from the main road, down a side street, far enough from the center of town that she could work up a good sweat getting there and back, should she ever wish to do so. She had finally settled on Nantucket because it was somewhere she had never been, it was an island, so it would help her recapture some of the feeling she missed so much in her own island home, and she knew Brad, and wanted to see, if she were brutally honest with herself, how he would behave with her on his own turf.
She had always harbored the sneaking suspicion that he was setting a trap for her, but here, on this island far away from the high school where they were both teachers, she could not see how anything he did could harm her. And she wanted to prove to herself that she was not REALLY attracted to him, but in the unlikely event she was proved wrong, no one would know but her...and Brad.
She let him help her out when they got to the big old house with the expansive lawns. It was a big, old, butter yellow house, which was one reason she had chosen it. The sunny colors of the rooms had also been an added attraction, as had the fact that they served a full breakfast every day at nine o'clock. She watched Brad take her suitcase up the wide front steps to the beautiful glass and wood door. It was ajar, and he strode in confidently, stopping at the wide reception desk in the front hall. He rang the little bell sharply, and immediately a tiny old woman with creamy hair stepped from the cubicle in the rear to the desk. Her face lit up in a sunny smile when she saw them, and she whisked the open register around, saying brightly,
"Hello there. You must be Ms. Jamison. Welcome, my dear. Please sign here!"
She indicated the space where Dawn was to sign her name, and then handed her the key to her room.
"Up those stairs to your right, second door on the right. You have your own bathroom."
Dawn thanked the pretty little old lady with a smile and followed Brad up the wide staircase to the second floor and into the room she had been given for the week. It was an utterly charming and very feminine room, all in buttercup yellow and dusty rose. Brad put the suitcase on the chair and turned to her.
"Dinner later?" he asked. "My mom wants to catch up with you on all the latest news from New York."
