Free Distracted by Madeline Sloane

bicep. She roughly rubbed it in and then, wiping the
excess lotion on her shorts bottom, turned the chair so Spence was
facing the ocean. She squirted more than she needed on his back,
spelling the word “jerk.”
    She slapped his back a couple of times and tossed the
bottle onto the cockpit table. “Okay, all done.”
    “Aw, come on, Erin. You haven’t finished my back.
I’ll get burned.” He wheedled, “I’m making dinner, remember? You
want me to grill steaks?”
    She stared at the boat’s wake, biting her lip. Why
was she so angry? It was unreasonable, she knew, for her to feel
nervous when close to him, or threatened by a thought of other
women aboard his boat.
    She stepped forward and quickly rubbed the rest of
the lotion into his skin. “There. Now you’re done. And I want
mushrooms and onions on my steak.”
    Spence watched as she picked up a beach towel and
tote bag and headed for the bow of the boat. She spread the towel
on the trampoline, pulled a visor and glasses out of the bag, and
laid on her stomach, her head resting on her crossed arms.
    He would never understand women, he thought, suddenly
craving his cigar. One minute they’re fine, the next they’re
not.
     
     
     

Chapter Seven
     
    Six days into the passage, Spence pointed towards the
coastline. “There’s St. Augustine.”
    Erin shaded her eyes and followed his pointing
finger. In the distance she could see bumps on the western
horizon.
    “Are we stopping there?”
    “Would you like to?”
    Erin nodded her head. “Yes. I think I’m going stir
crazy, looking at your goofy face all day. I need to see other
people.”
    Spence smiled. “Goofy? Well, at least I’m not a sour
puss.”
    “I’m not a sour puss. I just need to walk around on
dry land. And I could use some things. We left so quickly, I left a
lot behind.”
    “That’s the point, sweetheart. Travel light.”
    “Well, there are some things a woman needs. And right
now, chocolate is one of them.”
    Spence nodded wisely. “Ah yes. Things a woman needs.
Can do.”
    Spence and Erin were not exactly a well-oiled team,
still a few hours later they managed to drop the sails and motor in
to the St. Augustine Municipal Marina. A quick call on the VHF
reserved the huge catamaran an outside slip, making it easy and
convenient to dock.
    After helping to secure Fusion to the pier, Erin
grabbed her purse and headed for the marina’s chandlery. Spence
checked all of the through-hull fittings for leaks and, finding
none, he turned off the power. They agreed to meet at the front of
the marina. The sun would be setting within an hour, so they would
have time to walk the neighborhood and find a restaurant.
    Erin was fidgeting by the time he arrived at the
marina store. “Come on. Hurry up.”
    Spence took her hand. “What’s your hurry?”
    She tried to tug her hand free. He held it
tighter.
    “I want to look around before its dark.” She lifted
her chin and sniffed. “Do you smell that?”
    “What?”
    “Trash. Exhaust fumes. People.”
    “You like that?” He shook his head wonderingly.
    “No, not really but I miss it. Remember, I live in
the city.”
    They strolled towards the historic district, admiring
the Spanish architecture. Dozens of small shops lined the streets,
many with tables arranged outdoors. Erin stopped to admire the
preserved alligator heads, carved coconut faces, postcards and
citrus-themed snow globes.
    They walked past several restaurants until Erin froze
in front of The Columbia. She inhaled the exotic aromas of the
famous Spanish restaurant, then pulled Spence inside.
    “Hello. Dinner for two? Do you have reservations?” A
lovely, dark-haired young hostess greeted them as they walked in
the plush restaurant.
    “Two, please. No, we don’t have reservations.” Spence
smiled engagingly, offering his hand to the hostess. She smiled in
return.
    “One moment; let me check.” She consulted a chart on
her podium, then made a mark and picked up two menus.