I don’t know you well enough to trust you.” Immediately, she wished she’d chosen a more diplomatic answer.
Jesse only laughed. “I hear you, Professor. No offense taken. Have a seat.”
They’d reached the very edge of the dock and, obviously, there were no chairs in which to sit. Jesse gestured to the weathered wood planks beneath their feet. “Okay, why not?” Gail said, giving him a tentative smile as she lowered herself to the dock. She took off her sandals and let her bare toes dangle over the ocean.
Jesse plopped down next to her, his leg touching hers from hip to knee. Slowly, he turned his head and looked down at her.
The only sounds were the faint bustle of the yacht club’s restaurant behind them, the water licking at the pilings and the occasional screech of seabirds. The pressure of his body against hers made her feel safe, alive. Jesse and Gail simply looked at each other, Jesse’s expression relaxed and kind, his dark hair gently fluffing in the breeze. An understanding was passing between them, Gail realized. The moment was important. It was intimate. Suddenly, the most pressing need in Gail’s world was kissing him again.
Jesse leaned in close.
“So, do you know a lot about the ocean?” No sooner had those words escaped her mouth than Gail began laughing at herself in embarrassment. A beautiful man brought her to a beautiful place to kiss her—exactly what she wanted—and she goes and asks about the marine ecosystem? She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.
“I do, but mostly by osmosis,” Jesse answered, as if he saw nothing strange in her inquiry. “A lot of my family and friends have been fishermen or made their living off the ocean in some way.” Jesse brushed Gail’s cheek with his fingertips. “You seem embarrassed, but it’s not an odd question—I mean, look around. The ocean is kind of hard to ignore in these parts.”
Gail laughed. “Thanks,” she said, grateful he made her feel so at ease. She really should try to relax. She should try to just accept herself, awkwardness and all. Gail knew who she was—she was a woman who’d spent her life with her nose in a book—and, at thirty-six, a personality transplant probably wasn’t in her future. So what if she wasn’t smooth? She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, from this kind of man. There was no shame in that.
Gail took a deep breath. “Jesse…” She gazed out toward the horizon line before she turned to look him in the eye. “You’ve probably noticed by now that I’m not much of a seductress.”
He chuckled.
“I’m a nerdy intellectual. I’m not used to hanging out with, uh, men like you.”
“Tour guides?”
Gail laughed again. “Actually, I was referring to extremely good-looking men with earrings and muscles. It’s a little nerve-racking for me. Plus, I really suck at small talk.”
“It’s not my favorite, either.”
That’s when Jesse gently bumped his shoulder against hers, a gesture of solidarity so tender it shocked Gail. Clearly, he was trying his best to let her know he understood her. She liked that. A lot. She grinned up at him.
“The truth is, I prefer to talk about things that are real and matter to me,” Jesse said, his voice a little wistful. “Protecting the ocean is certainly one of those things.”
“What are some others?”
He cocked his head thoughtfully. “My house. Giving everything I can to my work. My friends.” He glanced down at her. “Then there’s diving, sailing, good food and salsa dancing—and enjoying the company of an intelligent, funny and beautiful woman when that rare opportunity arises.”
Gail felt herself blush. She looked away.
“You’re a lot more than a nerdy intellectual, Gail.” She felt Jesse reach for her hand. Was it really only yesterday that her scowling neighbor could barely stand the idea of shaking hands? “And I’d like to hear the details—where you grew up, what you teach, what life is like back home, oh, and, of course, how long you’ve been burdened by an unhealthy obsession with Ernest Hemingway.”
Gail laughed again, thinking to herself that Kim would love this guy. She reminded herself to call Kim that evening. Gail would probably start the conversation with “You’re not going to believe this…”
Gail began to tell Jesse about her life. She mentioned that she was up for tenure. She talked about the long process of earning her PhD, and her students at Beaverdale College. She’d only just started on the Curtis years when she felt footsteps clomping on