Page 70 of The Trouble with Players

“If I can handle you, I can handle anything.”

“Handle me?” he asked, stepping behind me and linking his arms around my waist. “I think it’s the other way around.” He pressed soft kisses to my neck as I steered us toward a small island Gina and I had been to many times before to watch fireworks or have bonfires with the locals.

“Am I gonna get to drive on the way back?” he asked.

“Depends.”

“On what?” he asked as I circled the island to the dock on the backside of it.

“On whether or not you admit this is better than baseball in the dark.”

He laughed. “So, baseball wasn’t a hit?”

I stifled a smile. “Kicking your ass was fun, but I think you’re gonna like this better.” As we neared the dock, Crew made sure the buoys were out. I slowed the boat, pulling us parallel to the dock. I switched off the motor. There were no other boats which meant we had the small island to ourselves, at least for the time being.

I jumped onto the dock. “Okay, throw me that rope.”

Crew tossed me the rope, and I tied it to the cleat. I moved to the bowline and he tossed me that rope which I tied.

“You’re good at this,” Crew said.

I laughed. “It’s not that hard.” I climbed back on board and went down to the galley where the bed and kitchenette were located.

“Is there seriously a bedroom on this thing?” Crew asked, peeking down from the top of the stairs.

“Only the best for Marty Richmond,” I said, as I grabbed a blanket from one of the compartments and came back up. “Come on.” I climbed off the boat and onto the dock. “There’s a new moon,” I said, unable to conceal my excitement.

“What’s that mean?” Crew asked as he followed me to the beach.

“It means it’ll be darker,” I explained, bumping him with my shoulder.

“Does the boat have lights?”

I looked at him, unsure if he was joking or serious. “You’re not scared of the dark are you?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re a big baby hidden in the body of an athlete.”

He turned with a devious look in his eyes and swept me up in his arms and over his shoulder like he had on the baseball field. “Could a big baby do this?”

I squealed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he asked incredulously. “Could he do this?”

I screeched as he lifted me Dirty Dancing-style over his head. “Put me down!”

He laughed. “I could do this all night.”

“You’re such a liar. Put me down!” I kicked my legs, but it didn’t stop him. Instead, he began trudging unsteadily through the sand with me over his head. “Crew! Put me down!”

“Why? I’m havin’ the time of my life,” he taunted, even though his steps in the sand didn’t feel stable.

“Jesus, Crew. You’re not a baby,” I cried in one nervous breath. “Now, put me down!”

“I think I missed what you said.” He stopped with me balanced above his head. “Could you repeat that?”

“I said you’re not a baby. You’re the strongest guy I know.”

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