I tilted my head slightly, and his lips brushed my ear. Air rushed into my lungs as that tiny, accidental caress sent shimmers of unexpected pleasure down my spine.

“Do you see that?” He reached across my shoulder with a pointed finger.

“The waves?” I looked out to the ocean, following the path he’d given me.

“This is where the cold Labrador current meets the warm Gulf Stream. It makes the shoals shift in unpredictable ways that can cause ships to wreck.” His voice was soft in my ear, his lips close but not touching me.

“How many do you think have been wrecked over the years?” The waves seemed almost harmless in the distance.

“The experts around here estimate about two thousand.”

“The Graveyard of the Atlantic,” I remembered, watching the waves. So beautiful, yet so dangerous. “You think there are still shipwrecks happening out there?”

“Right now? I hope not. But yeah, they happen around here more than we’d like, that’s for sure.” He dropped his arm and moved so he stood beside me, both of our hands on the railing. His clenched the metal as he took what looked to be a steadying breath.

“It seems almost foolish, doesn’t it? To know how dangerous the water is and still choose to sail it? That seems like the definition of insanity to me. Once something shows you how deadly it can be, I choose to believe it and steer clear.” The wind swept over the backs of my thighs, and I immediately missed the heat of him while simultaneously cursing my decision to wear a dress.

Pain flickered across his features, and my stomach lurched. I’d touched a nerve somehow.

He caught me watching him and forced a sad smile. “Sorry, my mind drifted. My parents died in a boating accident when I was seventeen.”

“Oh God. Jackson, I’m so sorry.” My stomach halted its lurch and just plain plummeted as my hand covered his. “I didn’t mean…” I didn’t even have words to cover my utter insensitivity. Seventeen. He’d been so young.

“Don’t be. You didn’t know.” He looked back over the water as his fingers splayed on the railing. Mine fell into the gaps, and he tightened slightly, leaving our fingers laced. “Dad knew the waters really damn well, but the weather came in faster than forecasted and…” He exhaled slowly. “I lost them both off the coast of Maine. The thing about the ocean is she can lull you into thinking you’re her equal. You understand her tides, her waves, her currents, and you begin to feel like you’re partners, as though the love you feel for her is somehow returned.”