They studied the menu. When the waitress arrived Linda ordered a sushi platter while Marissa went for grilled yellowtail with pineapple-mango salsa.

Linda observed, “All we need is something involving bananas, rum and coconut all blended up and served under an umbrella.”

“Sunshine and a pristine beach would help.”

Linda’s gaze traveled from Marissa’s hands to her hair to her mouth. “I thought you were gorgeous in the lifeboat. I still think you’re gorgeous.”

As she fiddled with her napkin, Marissa asked, “That last night? You turned off the light. Why?” She looked up to study Linda’s face.

“That was for me. I felt safer, like I wouldn’t go away as quickly, in the dark. Because you couldn’t see me. Later I wished I hadn’t turned it off because I wanted to see your face when you . . .” She shrugged and glanced meaningfully at the crowded nearby tables. “Why did you think I turned it off?”

Oh dear lord, Marissa thought, I’m a goner. She keeps healing the little hurts, even the ones I gave myself. “So you didn’t have to look at me.”

“Seriously? That’s not what I meant at all.” Linda’s leaned forward, her voice low. “I held the vision of your face in my mind during so many dark hours. Not because you were some kind of unreal saving angel or guiding muse but because you showed me what it looked like to live and try. I remembered what you said about contempt and I wanted to be absolutely sure you could respect me, even if you couldn’t love me . . . the way you had. So I had to keep trying, because you never gave up.”

“Do you want me to love you the way I did? I didn’t really know you. Damn.” She smiled brightly at the waitress who paused to set down Linda’s lemonade and top off Marissa’s iced tea. “This might not be a great discussion to have in such a public place.”

“Yeah,” Linda agreed. One hand uncurled on the table top. “You’re too far away.”

“Sit next to me,” Marissa invited. She scooted over and then half-turned to find herself within the arc of Linda’s long arm, which stretched across the back of the booth. Given how Linda’s nearness was going to her head she was glad she’d not ordered a drink.

In a low voice, she said, “When you wrote in the book that you weren’t sure that you’d fallen in love with ‘Ginger’ in Tahiti—with me—more than you loved the way I made you feel, you could have been quoting me. I wasn’t sure either. I know that I adored how I felt around you. And that I loved it when you smiled, and were happy. Sometimes there were shadows in your face and I wanted to chase them away.”

Linda inclined her head and Marissa tried not to focus on how much she wanted to burrow her lips into the pulse point on Linda’s throat. “And you did. You did so well that I realized I couldn’t live with them anymore. I had to learn to chase them away myself.”