Lucille pointed the wooden spoon at Dora. “What you waitin’ for?”

Dora stood on the dock, staring into the current of the Cove. Even with Nate on holiday, Dora still acutely felt the weight of her responsibilities. She felt more and more sure of her decision to proceed with the divorce. This opened a Pandora’s box of decisions. Where would she move? She’d have to find a school for Nate, a job for herself. This was a watershed moment in her life.

A large fish jumped and landed in the water with a noisy splash, creating ripples that fanned out farther and larger across the water as Dora watched. She sighed—the ripples of her decisions would have long-lasting consequences as well.

The growl of outboard motors broke her dark thoughts. Lifting her head, she saw the tip of a blue-and-white boat heading toward the dock. Squinting, she spotted Devlin waving at the wheel and immediately broke into a grin and waved back.

As the big boat drew near, Dora couldn’t help but notice it was a very nice one. A Boston Whaler, at least twenty feet in length with a pretty, bright blue canopy. Devlin always liked his toys, she thought as she stood on the edge of the dock with her arms outstretched, ready to catch the rope.

Dora loved boating—she was good at it. When the girls came to Sea Breeze for the summers, it was Dora who drove the boat while Carson and Harper rode the inner tubes or water-skied. Dora wasn’t much for getting wet. She preferred the feel of the wheel in her grasp and the throttle of engines at her control.

The boat’s engine bubbled in the water as Devlin slowly brought the boat alongside the dock. Dora deftly caught the rope and secured it. Her legs stretched precariously between the dock and boat as she tied the line. She almost lost her balance for a moment, not having the control she did when she was younger. She blushed and looked up at Devlin.

He was busy tying up the line in fast, sure movements. He was stocky but moved across the boat like a dancer. Knowing boats, she appreciated his speed and confidence. That, she knew, came only with years of experience.

Devlin looked up from the boat, grinning behind his dark sunglasses at seeing her. A worn Ducks Unlimited cap tamped down his blond, windblown hair and his skin was tanned. Devlin was an outdoorsman, as comfortable on the water as on land, and Dora found that very attractive. She smiled back and tossed him the canvas bag, then reached out to accept Devlin’s hand. At his touch she felt an electric-like charge, calling to mind the conversation about natural urges she’d had earlier with Lucille. He must have felt it, too, because he squeezed her hand again before releasing it.

Devlin went to the cooler and retrieved two beers. He put them in koozies and handed one to Dora.

“Make yourself comfortable, pretty lady,” he told her as he rushed back and forth across the boat untethering the ropes. When he was done, he went to the wheel.

Dora opened her can, then moved to stand close to him under the awning. He reached out to slip an arm around her and tugged her closer.

“Glad you’re here,” he said, giving her bottom a modest pat.

Dora laughed for the pure joy of going out on the boat with Devlin on such a perfect day. “Me, too.”

It was still early. The sun was rising overhead in a cloudless sky. Devlin slipped his arm away to lean back, half standing, half sitting against the captain’s chair. He reached for the throttle with one hand, while the other was on the wheel as he slowly revved the motors. They growled and gurgled as he guided the Whaler through the narrow marsh creeks.

Dora held on to the rocking boat as she moved to sit in the second seat beside him. She held her beer, but her fingers itched to drive the boat. She knew a captain didn’t like to give up his wheel and she didn’t want to press—at least not on their first outing.

As the boat took off, she thought back to when they were young and she and Devlin had been out on his boat. He used to let her drive. When her hands were on the wheel, he’d come up behind her and put his hands on her waist. He’d told her he was steadying her, but as they bounced along the waterway he’d leaned closer, wrapped his arms tighter around her, and buried his lips in her neck. Her toes curled as she remembered the rush of feelings.

She remembered how great a kisser Devlin was. Day after summer day they went out on the boat alone to explore the winding creeks and deserted hammocks, stopping at frequent intervals to explore each other’s bodies with equal excitement and adventuresome spirit.

Dora opened her eyes and studied the man at the wheel from behind her sunglasses. Was it really twenty years ago? Where did the time go? He’d aged some, as she had. She could see the weather-beaten texture of his skin, the first gray hairs at the temple. Their bodies were fuller, softer. Her gaze traveled to his mouth and she smiled furtively. He still had those beautiful lips.

They had traveled years apart, too, she realized. Yet today, back on a Boston Whaler in these familiar creeks, with Devlin, she thought, I feel sixteen again.

Devlin guided the Whaler out of creeks into the wide and heady Intracoastal Waterway. Once there he slowed the boat to a stop, stepped aside from the wheel, and waved his hand, indicating Dora should come closer.

“Come on, honey, let’s give you a chance at the wheel. I seem to recall you were pretty good at handling one of these things.”

Dora burst into a grin. He’d remembered! Clearly she wasn’t the only one taking a trip down memory lane. She set her beer into a holder and began walking across the boat when another boat roared past them, sending huge wakes their way. Dora lost her balance in the rocking boat and tottered with her arms stretched out wide.

Devlin grabbed her waist. “Hold steady, girl.”

Dora clung to his arm a moment, like it was her anchor. When she got her balance, he released her and she clumsily walked the few feet to the wheel and grabbed hold.

Looking up, she spotted the speeding boat weave past another boat in the queue ahead. It was filled with four teenagers, all insolent, bronzed, and beautiful.

“Damn hooligans. Someone ought to arrest those boys, speeding like that,” she blustered.

Devlin laughed beside her. “Aw, hell, Dora. We were just like that. What goes around, comes around. Come on, sugar. Let’s show ’em how it’s done.”

She glanced over at him. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his shades but knew there was a boyish sparkle of mischief in them.

“You’re a bad influence on me,” she said.

“Always have been”—his lips spread to a grin—“Mrs. Dora Tupper.”