Following Me(64)

“This is Alma,” Brennan said, gesturing to the boat.

“Alma?” Devon asked with an arched eyebrow.

Brennan shrugged. “She was named after my grandma.”

“This is…your boat?” she asked slowly, trying to keep it all together.

“Well, it’s my dad’s boat, but we’re going to use it today.” Smiling, he jumped onto the deck like he was more familiar with it than the land.

He extended out his hand to her, and she took it, steadying herself before taking the first step onto the boat. It rocked as her weight shifted it, and she all but fell into his arms. He caught her easily, laughing.

“We’ll work on your sea legs,” he said, holding her steady.

“I’ve been on a boat before,” she said defensively.

“When was the last time?”

“I don’t know.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Like two years ago.”

“Way too long. I’m glad I could remedy this,” he said. “Come on, let me show you around.”

His boat included way more than her parents’ lake boat, which was big enough for a couple of people, not much more, to jet around the lake. Brennan had pointed out that this was less of a boat and more of a cabin cruiser. It had plenty of space for hanging out on the deck, and it also had a cabin area with a small kitchen and dining room as well as a door that led to an even smaller bedroom with a double bed taking up the majority of the room. When her eyes landed on the bed, she knew that she should look away, but somehow, she couldn’t. Even when she had been staying at Brennan’s, she had slept on the couch.

She scooted out of the room and went back onto the deck. It was hard to keep her mind out of the gutter. Her life had been filled with that for a long time. She didn’t want to f**k this up. She had so much more to figure out first.

They spent the afternoon enjoying each other’s company, leisurely cruising around the harbor and watching the sailboats depart. It was lazy and comfortable and exactly what Devon needed.

Day faded into night, and the soft crash of the waves hitting along the boat lulled them into silence. Lying on a blanket out on the deck, Devon cuddled up into Brennan’s arms, leaning her head on his chest. He rubbed his hand back and forth along her arm. As the boat swayed to and fro, she felt herself slipping away toward the sleep that had so often evaded her.

“Hey,” he whispered before kissing her forehead.

“Hmm?” she mumbled.

“You can’t sleep yet.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she said with a big yawn.

“Good.” His hand moved from her arm to her waist, pulling her in close.

“Brennan,” she whispered, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for today. You don’t know what it means to me.” She bit her lip and broke his gaze.

“No, thank you,” he whispered, pushing her hair off her face and bringing her back to face him. “I’m not sure I would have gotten through this past week without you.”

Devon smiled shyly. “Why is that?”

He sighed softly before bringing her face down to meet his lips. She kissed him until she was breathless. When they broke apart, she melted at the sight of him lying beneath her. How had she gotten so lucky after everything that had happened to her?

“Devon,” he whispered. He scooted his body up, so he was facing her, seated on the floor of the boat.

“Yeah?” she asked, mirroring him.

“I don’t really open up to many people, so this is kind of big for me,” he said, taking her hand in his.

Out of nowhere, Devon’s heart rate picked up. She wasn’t sure if it was just because she hadn’t been completely honest with him or what, but it made her uneasy.

“This, uh…isn’t my dad’s boat.”

“What?” Devon asked, confusion creasing her temple. “Then, whose boat is it?”

“What I mean to say is that it was my dad’s boat,” he said softly.

Devon stopped fidgeting and stared into his handsome face. Was. That was such a final word. “What happened?”

“Three years ago, he died in a car accident on the Fourth of July. Sideswiped by a drunk driver,” he said, gripping her hands. “They took him in an ambulance to Northwestern Memorial. It was the hospital he had worked in as a doctor for thirty years. He died before I got there.”

Devon gasped. “Brennan…” she whispered, clutching his hand more tightly. What could she say? What could she possibly say to heal that wound? No wonder he had been sick and in a terrible mood the week before the Fourth of July. How could she have ever blamed him?

“I don’t know why, but when I look at you, I sometimes see myself. I feel like I understand you…like we could understand each other. I don’t know if that even makes sense.”

“It does,” she said quietly, tears welling in her eyes. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t even want to ask, but she had to. “What happened to your mom?”

“They were divorced. I was an only child. She lives in California with her new husband and brood of children,” he said, distaste seeping into his voice. “She was only really interested in me after he died. At least, she was until she found out he left me everything, and I wasn’t going to give her a dime. Now, she doesn’t even send birthday cards.”