The marina was well lit, which Cassidy was always grateful for, and was the reason she left her boat behind the Trading Post even though the walk was longer. Some of the business docks only had weak yellowish bulbs behind them and could be unsettling at night, especially at two-thirty in the morning.
“What can I do?” Mac asked as Cassidy started untying a line from its cleat.
“Get in and don’t get in the way.”
“Damn. Yes, ma’am.” He climbed into the boat and balanced himself, but the dip from his movements and his inebriated state threatened to send him to his knees. Once stable, he whistled to Fred, but Fred was already in the boat.
Cassidy climbed in, as well, pressing against his chest to move him a few paces backward out of her way. “Just sit.” She navigated him to the stern bench. Small boat; large man.
She was aware of him watching her as she prepared the boat. Catching his eye, she indicated to the floorboard next to him. “Fred’s vest.”
Mac’s eyes shifted from her to the delighted dog. Cassidy tried not to resent how easily Mac got the vest on him. Damn it, Fred.
“How do you know your way back?” he asked, releasing a vested Fred and relaxing back against the cushioned bench.
Maneuvering behind the console, she eased the boat away from the marina. Cassidy scanned the inky waters as she answered, “The boat has instruments, but Elijah taught me; we’ve lived here for years. Some of it is instinct by now.” She leaned over and glanced up at the clear night sky from beneath the canopy. It was warmer tonight.
“Wouldn’t driving be safer?”
“Safer than what?” She glanced back at him, but she didn’t have the luxury to pay much attention to him as she navigated. “More drunks on the roads than out on the water—case in point, Mr. Boyer.”
“I’m not on the road.”
“You would have been.”
“Would’ve slept in the Scout,” he said.
“Now you tell me,” she remarked dryly. “Besides, this cuts the time in half.”
“Hm.”
Cassidy lifted on her toes to watch the dark shadows of branches as they passed by.
“And you do this every night you close the bar?”
“Yes. Well, now I do. Before…” She caught herself. Mac didn’t care; he had told her more than once her story wasn’t important to him.
“Before?”
“Never mind.”
“Out with it, Day, you already started.”
“It’s the stuff you don’t want to hear,” she pointed out, side-stepping so she could lean over to check clearance on the side of the boat. She glanced over her shoulder at him again. He was now lying on his back on the bench. Fred was panting in his face.
“I’m wasted. Out with it. I won’t remember even as you tell me.”
Cassidy shrugged, returning her attention to her task. “Before, Elijah would come and get me.”
“Perfect couple.”
She bit her lip, not responding, not that a response was necessary. He’d said it without a mocking intonation; wistful.
She increased the throttle as she cleared the inlet.
Mac passed out. He slept the entire way across the lake. He remained passed out while she secured the boat. After removing Fred’s vest from him, she sat sideways on the center bench and watched Mac sleep, her dock lights providing her with illumination.
The man was attractive; she acknowledged it over and over again. His dark looks and build portrayed strength and control, and his sulky, provocative demeanor was alluring. She didn’t know why a man so opposite from her effervescent and adoring husband would capture her imagination. She didn’t understand how he could make her react to his voice the way he did.