There was the strangest feeling in her chest, as though a hundred butterflies had come to life, fluttering their wings inside her ribcage. Behind her, Poppy and Charlie were still chatting, this time about their worm farm.
‘Keep telling me that, and I might just start to believe you.’
‘You should believe me. I grew up with parents who did nothing but think of themselves. That’s the coward’s way out.’
It was as though he was revealing little parts of himself, piece by piece, and she was doing the same. Every time they were together the armour was coming off, revealing vulnerable skin that could so easily be pierced. She’d never felt so comfortable and so exposed at the same time.
He steered the car through the gates to the parking lot, pulling into a space facing the harbour. The water was lapping against the side of the boardwalk, the moored boats gently rising and falling with its movement. As soon as they stepped out of the car there was tranquillity to the air that surprised Juliet. The only times she’d been here before was for dinner cruises – when the whole boardwalk was full of chatter and expensive voices.
Not now, though. It was as though somebody had put a little spell on the river, holding back the flow of years and progress. It was timeless in its beauty.
‘Is that your boat?’ Poppy asked, pointing at a tiny fishing vessel. ‘Can we even fit on there?’
‘That’s not our boat.’ Charlie looked almost offended. Then his face softened as he pointed over to a large sailing boat moored up by the pier. ‘That’s Miss Maisie. Our boat.’
For a moment he looked so much like his father, he took Juliet’s breath away. The same piercing eyes, the same expression of wonderment. It wasn’t difficult to imagine Ryan as a child, playing on these planks, climbing over the boats and getting up to all kinds of mischief.
The man himself had climbed out and was unloading the back of his car, pulling out two bags and slinging them over his shoulder. Then he led the way to the jetty, reaching out to slow Poppy down as she sped along the gangplank.
An old man was waiting for them by the side of Miss Maisie, a blue cap pulled down on his head where a few wispy grey curls escaped from beneath. He looked at Juliet with interest, as if he was trying to place her.
‘Hey Stan,’ Ryan said, reaching for the old man’s hand. ‘She looks perfect. Thanks for getting her ready at such short notice.’
‘You always were the impulsive one,’ Stan told him. ‘And I see you each brought a lady along. Remember to keep the language clean on there, young Charlie.’
Charlie giggled, making Poppy laugh too. The two of them stood stock still as Ryan slid their life jackets on, fastening them firmly as he gave them instructions on how to behave on the boat. Then he passed a larger life jacket to Juliet, smiling as she struggled to tighten the straps across her body. He reached out, putting his hands over hers, gently guiding her as the jacket became firm against her body.
‘You ready?’ he murmured, dragging his own lifejacket on.
‘I’m ready,’ she told him. And she was. Ready to get on the deck, to feel the air lifting her hair. To put the distance between them she needed, because right here, right now, she was a hair’s breadth from wanting to run her palms all over those tight biceps of his.
‘So what are we waiting for?’ Poppy asked impatiently. ‘Christmas?’
A few minutes later, Stan was throwing the rope to Juliet as Ryan steered the boat out from the jetty. She coiled it around her hand and arm, the way he’d shown her, before hooking it onto the side in a large loop. Ryan called out instructions to her as they reached the open water, smiling at her as she tried to follow them as best she could. Even when she stumbled on the deck, all he did was give her the once-over with his eyes, satisfied she was okay.
It didn’t take long for the boat to work its magic on her. Feeling the air rushing over the deck, and the almost magical sensation of floating on the water, was enough to make her heart pound in the best kind of way. She could see the same response in Poppy and Charlie, as they sat on the deck the way Ryan had shown them, their eyes tightly closed as the wind blasted their faces.
‘You okay?’ Ryan mouthed at her. She nodded, a smile curving her lips. It was impossible to feel anything else right then. She felt exposed in the best kind of way. Free of everything she’d left behind on the wharf. It was just the four of them and the water, and right then nothing else mattered.
No wonder he loved the sense of freedom he got from being on the open bay. It was as if anything was possible. She felt the sudden desire for them to keep sailing until they reached the horizon line, and to disappear from sight. To reach the ocean and keep on goi
ng, until they sailed into some foreign land.
‘How old were you when you learned to sail?’ she shouted, her words half-swallowed by the hissing wind.
‘I can’t remember. My grandpa started to take me out pretty much as soon as I could walk. I kind of grew up knowing how to sail just by watching him, the way other kids grow up knowing how to sing or dance. Of all the things I left behind when I moved away, I think I missed this old gal the most.’ He tapped his hand against the wheel.
‘You look like a man in love,’ she teased.
‘You can’t help but fall in love with Maisie,’ he said. ‘She has this irresistible lure. You watch out, you’ll be falling at her feet before too long.’
He’d pulled his sunglasses over his head, trying to keep his hair from blowing in his face. Even with the distance between them, she could see the sun sparkling in his eyes.
‘She’s very seductive,’ Juliet agreed. ‘It’s like she’s making all these promises. Whispering that she can take you on adventures and journeys you’ll never believe. It’s hypnotic.’
Ryan laughed. ‘She’s a siren all right. She entranced my grandpa and then turned her magic on me.’ He inclined his head at Charlie and Poppy, who were talking excitedly, their hands gripping the rail the way Ryan had shown them. ‘I think he might be falling for her, too.’
‘It would be hard not to,’ Juliet said. ‘Hard not to fall for the beauty of this bay, either. Do you know I’ve lived here for six years, and the only time I’ve been out on a boat has been in the evening.’