Sailing at Sunset - Cindi Madsen Page 0,32

fridge stocked with groceries, frankly, I don’t like fish.”

The lure hit the top of the tackle box as Josh gaped at her like she’d sprouted a unicorn horn. “How can you be a Newport native and not like fish?”

Since she didn’t have a great explanation for her off-kilter taste buds, she simply shrugged.

“Unacceptable. Obviously you’ve never had one cooked the right way. Now we have to catch one so I can grill you the best fish dinner you’ve ever had.”

“Or maybe I just don’t like fish, and I know what I want.”

“You said maybe.” Josh stood and extended her the handle, his large hand wrapped around the maroon rod. “So just maybe you’ll like the way I make it.”

With a huff, Danae took the offered pole. “Fine, I’ll try it. Fishing and…” She shuddered. “But when I don’t like it, don’t take it personally.”

Sorting through dozens of memories stored in her brain, she searched for the day Dad had taught her how to cast.

Hold that button down until you whip the pole forward, NaeNae. The faster and harder you fling it, the farther it’ll go.

She drew back the pole and cast out her line. Pride streaked through her when the plunk of the hook landed way out in the midnight-blue water. “Did you see that? I thought for sure I’d snag the sail or my own clothes or something equally as disastrous. Turns out I still got it. The casting part, anyway.”

Thanks, Dad.

“Farthest cast I’ve seen all day.” Josh’s fingertips brushed her forearm and Danae’s surprised inhale gave her an extra dose of fresh air. “You good? I thought I’d do another sweep and see how the rest of the crew are faring. Then I’ll circle back around.”

“Totally,” she said. “Do whatever you need to.”

A tiny string in the center of her chest tugged, as if it were attached to Josh. Then he practically melted into the inky sky, his dark profile blending in with the others until she could no longer tell who was who.

A handful of minutes passed in silence. Danae tipped onto her toes, attempting to see over the cabin to the other side of the ship.

It was no use, though. She wasn’t tall enough in her flats—might not even be tall enough in her heels. She reeled in her line and recast, simply for something to do. Then she paced back and forth a yard or so, idly wondering how long it would take to form a groove in the pale wood.

At the ten-minute mark, she added some dance moves to her pacing, tapping out a rhythm with the soles of her shoes as she did her best to convince herself she didn’t miss Josh. How could she, when he hadn’t been gone that long and she barely knew the guy?

Still, something had shifted between them this afternoon. First, when he’d teased her about rolling down the bluffs to save time, and again in the lighthouse, as they’d discussed her dad and the stress his passing had caused, and he’d mentioned his divorce. A big part of what had made it easy to be that open was their mini adventure in the stairwell.

Once you reached adulthood, there weren’t many magic moments to seize hold of. Having Josh there to anchor her so she could get a prime view of the multicolored swirl and timeless beauty of the architecture involved in the staircase had left her in awe. Of how people had done so much with simpler tools, and that thanks to his encouragement and strong grip, she’d done something risky. For her anyway.

“How you doing?”

Danae jumped, then rolled her eyes at her flighty reaction. It was the second time Josh had scared her.

He snickered, and she tightened her grip on the pole in her right hand and smacked his arm with her left. Considering the stretch, it hardly had anything behind it—not that she wanted to hurt him.

His solid shoulder made her doubt she could.

“Has anyone had any luck?” she asked, fiddling with the handle on the reel. The end was loose, so she’d have to find a screwdriver later, but right now, she was enjoying spinning it round and around.

“A couple of nibbles. I think Paige and Vanessa are both determined to show one another up. They were both asking for the best tactics and bait and all sorts of questions, rapid-fire-style, until I felt like I was being interrogated.” The chuckle that came out at the end of the sentence made it clear he’d