Page 61 of Off the Hook

He grabbed a bow line and hopped up onto the plywood, grainy and gray from the elements. I held my breath, hoping it would hold. Coulter glided confidently across the plywood barefoot and looped the rope around a mangrove branch, flipping it into a quick knot. He was grinning from ear to ear when he came back to offer me his hand.

I stood up, unsteady on my feet and started to reach for his hand, but he wagged a finger at me before pointing to my picnic basket. “Pass me that first.”

“You sure this thing is secure?” I asked, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to test the old wood’s limits by adding another hundred and thirty pounds to it.

“It’s strong.” Coulter jumped, landing with a thud to prove his point.

“I trust you,” I smiled, handing him the basket.

“I know you do,” Coulter grinned while I stepped a foot up onto the dock and then pulled me up into his arms. “And I trust you again.”

The breath left my body in a sigh, and in that moment I understood what it was to swoon into a man’s arms. “I’m sorry, Coulter. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” he said, stroking my hair. “I’m not stupid. If you hadn’t believed in me, I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened. You didn’t doubt me, Faith. But I doubted you. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who overstepped professional boundaries and let myself get involved in an inappropriate relationship.”

“Inappropriate, huh?” He reached for my breast, staring deep into my eyes while he slid his hand over my nipple and pinched it through the fabric.

Ignoring the dampness he created in my bikini bottom, I swatted his hand away. “Yes, it was inappropriate. I convinced myself that it was okay at the time because, in my mind, the DNA cleared you. But I should have known better.”

“Well I’m certainly glad you didn’t.” His thwarted hand reached into basket for the foil-covered neck of the bottle of Prosecco. “In fact, I think we should celebrate your poor judgment.”

While he twisted the wire cage off the top of the cork, I remembered. “I forgot to pack glasses.”

“Then from the bottle it is!” Coulter declared just as the cork popped. He handed me the bottle. “Ladies first.”

“Such a gentleman,” I smiled.

As if to prove me right, he dutifully unpacked and arranged the picnic items in an attractive spread.

“Not bad at all for an impromptu picnic,” I said, grinning ear-to-ear.

“It’s amazing,” he said, “just like you.”

“You’re too kind,” I laughed before swigging from the bottle again.

“I’ve been told that before,” Coulter chuckled as he pulled out his pocket knife and cut off a piece of cheese, rolling it in a slice of prosciutto and teasing my lips with it. “But that's a character flaw you’re going to have to learn to live with if you're going to date me.”

“I’ll try to adapt,” I said, parting my smiling lips to take a bite.

“So what made you abandon your principles for me? I mean, aside from my dashing good looks and my charm?”

I finished chewing my food, smiling as I answered. “Your humility.”

Coulter laughed, reaching for my hand. “No, really.’

“The more I got to know you, the more I liked you. Then I started to fantasize about what would have happened if you weren’t a suspect and I just met you in a bar one night.”

“Rando dude in a bar isn’t nearly as exciting as murder suspect,” Coulter said before crunching on a cracker with cheese.

“You’re certainly exciting. Hopefully we can avoid suspect status from now on though,” I sighed. “I think we could both do without that stress again.”

“No shit,” Coulter said. I hated that we had put him through so much.

We munched on the charcuterie spread, content in the silence that was broken only by the soft sound of water lapping on the hull of the skiff. An osprey squawked as it flew overhead, a fish in its talons. “It’s so incredibly peaceful here. I can see why it was your parents' escape.”

“I still can’t believe they never brought us here, though. We would have loved this place when we were kids.”

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