On the dock, Silas checked out the boat again. “You pick this out yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“How’d you find this?”
“Online.”
Silas looked impressed. “This might come naturally to you; it’s a fine boat.”
“It looked fast.”
The old man chuckled.
Mac wasn’t paying attention. He was fighting the urge to turn and look at the lake house.
“Well, let’s get to it. Give me permission to board your vessel, son?”
Mac smiled at the tradition; Cassidy had used it, too. “Yes, sir.”
Nodding as though it hadn’t been a foregone conclusion, Silas scampered onto the sideboard and hopped down, looking more at ease and natural on the slightly rocking craft than he did on land. Mac followed, his eyes darting up the hill as he turned toward the captain’s console, which happened to be facing inland.
Nothing. No one outside. Her car was in the drive. She was home.
“Son, I need you to concentrate,” Silas interrupted.
Mac tore his gaze from the house.
Silas narrowed his eyes at him.
Mac bent his head and rubbed the back of his neck.
“One question,” Silas said. They both knew what he was talking about; who, rather.
Mac gave him a look. It was impossible to ask only one. Rubbing the back of his neck, he asked the one he needed to know the answer to most. “She okay?”
Silas sucked on his top teeth for a minute before answering, “Still got a bruised face. Hair’s cut off but looks good on her; that girl can’t look bad even looking bad.”
Mac drank it in, disappointed when Silas stopped talking. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You meant here.” Silas tapped his chest. “No. No, she’s not okay.”
Mac stared, willing the man to continue.
“That was the answer to your question.” Silas turned away. “Now give me a tour.”
Mac glanced around, feeling the thump inside his chest cavity. He couldn’t throttle the old man; he was his only connection to information right nowandthe only one willing to teach him how to work his boat.
Remembering where Cassidy had started, he asked, “Back to front? What did she say? Stern to bow?”
Silas nodded in approval.
Mac led the tour even though he had a suspicion Silas knew the boat better than he did, even though it was his first time on it. They didn’t inspect it the way he and Cassidy had. Silas didn’t need to poke into everything, although he did take a look at the engine to admire it, and he was curious about the head. While Silas fiddled with it, Mac’s eyes were drawn to the dent below the bed, the memory flooding him both hot-blooded and sorrowful. Made him want to tear up the hill and drag her down, show her the dent, remind her of that moment. Re-enact it. Fuck, he missed her.
And she was so close.
Hating him.
Silas followed Mac’s line of sight. “Can easily pop that out.”