The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(59)
“Ryan? Are you okay?” Steffi asked.
“Yep.” His eyes stung, so he looked away. “Lots of firsts.”
He tucked two bottles beneath his armpits and grabbed two of the four plates, then turned to go above deck.
“Firsts and bests.” She’d said it just loud enough that he knew she meant for him to hear her.
He took one step toward sunlight, heart pounding, then looked over his shoulder with a grin. “Mine too.”
A sudden need for air made him bolt outside so the breeze would fill his lungs again. He handed both girls a plate and water bottle, then took a seat and braced to face Steffi, now that he’d admitted something he’d never planned to say.
Chapter Twelve
Mine too. Steffi smiled to herself as she replayed Ryan’s words a third time. She’d earned his forgiveness in these few weeks. She should be grateful for that and not push. But those two words had offered a hairline crack of hope, and like a field mouse, she’d find a way to squeeze through it for a chance to snuggle up to the warmth of Ryan Quinn.
She went above deck and handed him his plate, which he’d piled high with chicken, then sat beside him. Close, but not touching, although it took a lot of concentration not to let her knee wander to her left. She tormented herself with the idea of an “accidentally on purpose” graze, and then by wondering if he would flinch, move over, or allow their knees extended contact.
Her gaze locked on that inch between their thighs, her heart pounding madly, desperately, egging her to move her leg. She could blame it on the rocking of the boat if he tensed. But he might let it linger . . . he might be remembering . . .
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, gesturing to the chicken breast she’d yet to touch.
Molly’s fried chicken had been Steffi’s favorite for years, but sexual frustration filled her stomach now, killing her appetite. Why had she ever given up the right to hold his hand, sit on his lap, and enjoy his kisses? He’d loved her, but she’d run from him without even knowing what she hoped to find.
“Where are the cookies?” Emmy asked.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Ryan answered, licking the salty grease from his fingers. Steffi tore her gaze from his mouth. “Cookies come after we swim.”
Emmy glanced over the edge of the small craft and grimaced. “Are there jellyfish?”
“Not usually.” Ryan tipped his head, studying his daughter.
“What about other fish?” Lisa asked.
“Of course there are other fish in the sea.” He smiled at the ancient idiom, but Steffi knew it had no real meaning for young girls. She’d also come to doubt the truth of that idea, too. “But they won’t bite.”
“How do you know?” Emmy asked.
“Because you’re bigger than most of them, and I’ve done this a million times without ever getting hurt.” He sighed, signaling that he’d reached the limit of his patience.
“The first time your dad brought me out on this boat, I was scared to swim, too. I mean, we are far from the shore, and you can’t see what’s down there. But then I decided I wouldn’t let fear make me miss out on something fun.” Steffi stood and dumped her plate in the trash. Without waiting for the others, she stripped out of her shorts and T-shirt, clambered to the stern’s ledge, and dived into the water, shouting, “Fish bait!”
When she broke through the surface, she gasped. The chill made it feel as if every cubic inch of water in the inlet was crushing her chest. She sucked at the air to catch her breath.
“Holy cow,” she sputtered. “It’s freezing!”
Three sets of eyes stared at her from over the port-side railing. Ryan crossed his arms but wore a wide grin.
“Come on, don’t leave me hanging here by myself!” Steffi stammered through chattering teeth, which probably didn’t encourage anyone to join her.
“No way.” Emmy’s emphatic headshaking showed she was more convinced than ever that deep-ocean swimming was less appealing than a math test.
“How about you, Lisa?” Steffi hoped Lisa would persuade Emmy to overcome her fear in the same way that keeping up with Steffi’s brothers had forced her to do so. So far, that tactic hadn’t helped Steffi lessen Claire’s anxiety, but, surely, she could get these two girls in the water.
Sadly, a wordless shake of Lisa’s head upended Steffi’s ploy.
“Ryan?” She shivered, her body refusing to adjust to the cold water. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing if she couldn’t convince them to jump in. Not to mention how unappealing she must look with blue lips and head-to-toe goose bumps.
“Can’t leave the girls aboard by themselves.” A taunting smile appeared. “Sorry!”
“You will be sorry,” she teased, trying in vain to splash them all with water. Her benumbed arms lacked real power, so the water barely sprinkled them. Undaunted, she swam around as if enjoying it all, doing somersaults and floating on her back—anything to pique Emmy’s curiosity.
A few minutes later, the girls lost interest in watching her, so Ryan lowered the swim ladder. “You can’t win ’em all.”
Mere seconds shy of becoming a human popsicle, she swam to the stern. When she boarded, he wrapped her in a towel. Face-to-face, he pulled it snugly around her, then brushed her wet hair back from her cheeks and whispered, “Thanks for trying.”