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“What the hell is port side, Tully?” He cried. “Use terminology I understand.”
“Left. Portside is left.”
“Why didn’t you just say that? Why does language change when you’re on the water? That makes no sense.”
“There’s actually an etymological reason why nautical terms are used,” I began.
“I don’t care,” he said. “Not right now. I’ll care when I’m on solid ground and not driving a boat. Sorry.”
I snorted. “Babe, you’re doing great.”
“You have more confidence in me than is warranted,” he said, but after a while I could see just how much his cheeks were raised, how he was smiling.
“You can do anything you put your mind to.”
He shook his head. Of course he’d disagree with me.
“You’re driving a boat, Jeremiah.”
He turned and grinned at me.
I grabbed the wheel. “Don’t look at me. You gotta watch where you’re going.”
He pulled both hands away. “Oh. Sorry.”
I kept him caged in my arms, my eyes on the bow. “We’re gonna leave the shelter of the break wall here and go through Van Diemen’s Gulf, up between the Tiwi and Vernon Islands, but from there we’ll enter open water and skirt the coastline around Croker Island to Oxley Island,” I said. “Read the navigation and tell me—”
“No thank you,” he said, pushing my arm away and wobbling his way back to his seat. His hair was tousled by the wind and he looked so handsome in the sunlight. Even if he was holding on to his seat for dear life. “You said open water,” he yelled over the sound of the engine. “That’s where I opt out. Thank you for the offer though.”
He was so adorable.
But I knew when not to push. He’d had a few minutes of fun, but he was clearly out of his comfort zone. And it was probably just as well, because crossing into open waters needed all my attention.
The gulf was spectacular today. The water calm and a magnificent array of blues and tropical greens.
It made Jeremiah’s eyes stand out even more, dark sapphires against topaz.
I had to go over to him. I held his face up and smacked a kiss on his lips.
He pulled back in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“I just had to tell you you’re beautiful.”
He pointed to the helm. “Hold the wheel and watch where we’re going. You can tell me I’m beautiful when we’re on dry land.”
I laughed and went back to the wheel, and he sat there and got all flustered and embarrassed, still holding onto the bottom of his seat with both hands. But he smiled as he took in the view. First of the Tiwi Islands and then the coastline as we made our way out to Oxley Island.
I knew he wasn’t a fan of boats, but on a calm and sunny day like today—perfect boating conditions—he was enjoying it. Well, enjoyin’ it as much as he could with both hands gripping onto his seat.
I’d imagine in rough seas it’d be a very different story, but the water was as smooth as I’d seen it. The sun was bright, the warm breeze played with his hair, and I even caught him closing his eyes a few times as he smiled into the wind.
I wish I’d thought to take him out on the water before now.
But I knew I had a slim chance of ever gettin’ him out here again, so I enjoyed it while I could.
I was disappointed it didn’t take us longer to get there.
But as we came around the top of Oxley Island, I slowed right down and brought us in closer. I was assured there was an old jetty near the weather station that was still intact.
