Page 5 of Come Sail Away

Chapter Two

With the sails up and drawing, a good ten to fifteen knots southerly wind had them up and moving quickly as the boat gently leaned in and found her stride. Tacking back and forth, he headed upwind back toward the marina. The boat essentially steered herself requiring mild tension on the steering wheel and needed only the slightest touch to keep her on course.

Sully wished the same easy touch applied to him—and his flipping heart. Holy shit, he was tense and nervous, his palms sweaty in a way that had nothing to do with the Florida heat. For some reason, Harper was making him anxious and excited and uncertain. All characteristics that were foreign to him.

Perhaps he was intimidated by her obvious career success. She had continued in her brainiac endeavors after high school and had actually contributed something to society. Whereas he… Well, he was just a singer. Frivolous entertainment. They weren’t in the same league at all.

Not that he regretted the choices he’d made. He didn’t. Singing was what he was meant to do. He made people feel good. He allowed them to let go of their everyday troubles and just enjoy music.

It’s just that, well, oil and water didn’t mix. He rolled off people in passing; she was the necessary element needed to survive. He laughed to himself that he’d thought of them as a science-related analogy, even if it was cliché.

Did she even know he made his living singing? He’d enjoyed listening to her so much earlier that they hadn’t talked about what he did.

“Ok, I’ve become a sailing fan,” she said, jerking him back to reality. “It’s so quiet and peaceful.”

“Exactly. Plus, I like that the sailor actually controls the process. How well someone handles the sails changes the experience dramatically.”

“Hmm. I’d say you’re pretty good, then.” She pressed her lips together as if she would say more, but didn’t.

“Thanks. I like to get on the water as often as possible.”

When they reached past the breakwater and approached the marina, he tried to eke out every last drop of enjoyment of their ride before getting back to reality.

As soon as the boat was tucked into her slip, Harper called her friend—evidently the owner of the boat she was using—and filled him in, letting him know she was safe but the boat would need maintenance.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know what the problem is,” she said into the phone before disconnecting.

“The marina office is this way,” Sully told her, pointing as they walked in the proper direction. Then he nodded toward where her boat was tied up. “Looks like they made it back before we did.”

Harper adjusted her satchel over her shoulder. “I hope it’s an easy fix.”

They strolled along the wooden walk, the sound of their steps echoing off the weathered boards. The harbor office, a bait and tackle shop with snack concession space were in the white building straight ahead. When they reached the door sporting the sign Mimosa Marina Office above it, he motioned for Harper to enter before him. Robert’s assistant sat behind the counter, sipping a root beer from a glass bottle.

Barefoot Bay always did have a way of suspending time,Sully reminisced.

He wrapped his knuckles on the counter. “Hey, Josh. Any update on theSundancer?”

“No,” Robert said, answering for Josh as he came up behind the front desk. “The mechanic had already left for the day by the time we returned. I’ll have him look at it first thing in the morning,” Robert said. “It looks like you’re going to have to spend the night here on the island, miss. And we unfortunately don’t have shore power—all those slips are taken.”

“Oh great. So staying on my boat isn’t an option? Nothing will have vacancies at the last minute.”

Robert frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Sully jumped in. “I’m sure we’ll find something. I’m staying at Casa Blanca Resort & Spa. We’ll start there.”

“Right. Okay.” She looked at Robert. “You have my cell number and information. Please let me know when you hear anything.”

He nodded.

“Thanks, Robert.” Sully waved and escorted Harper to his car. He checked his watch: 6:00 p.m. He had two hours before he had to be onstage. The owners were good friends of his and this was a special gig he did for them. Something he’d started years ago before he’d “made it.” “Let’s go see what Lacey can do for us.”

“Lacey?”

“Oh, sorry. Lacey Walker. She owns Casa Blanca.”

Harper raised a brow. “You’re on a first-name basis with the resort owner?”

They both slid into the car and buckled up. “Yes. She and her husband Clay are awesome. Very friendly people.”