Page 71 of Seasoned
“He did?” Adelaide said, pleasantly surprised that Hector had gone through the additional expense.
“If we’re going to do this, we have to do it right,” Hector said.
She wanted to kiss him again but refrained, opting instead to show her appreciation by squeezing his arm.
Hector climbed into the boat and offered a steadying hand to help her on board.
“I have plenty of refreshments below. Beer, wine, and snacks. Just help yourself,” John said.
Because of the cool air out on the water, Hector threw a spare jacket he’d brought along over Adelaide’s shoulders and wrapped one arm around her. Within minutes, they pulled into San Diego Bay with John at the helm. TheFreedomglided through the water, and Adelaide and Hector stood in the boat, the air drifting over them.
John pointed out sights of interest, such as the great view of downtown San Diego, with the sun hitting the buildings and casting a golden hue across their exteriors. They passed by landmarks such as the Maritime Museum, Coronado Bridge, and Old Point Loma Lighthouse.
At one point, John let Adelaide take the wheel and she guided the boat through the waters, all while receiving cheers from the three men aboard.
“Sea lions!” Decker suddenly yelled, pointing.
Sure enough, a few of them played in the waves.
“Hector, look!’ Adelaide moved to the handrail and watched the animals, who seemed to put on a more elaborate show for them as they passed by.
When she turned to Hector, he snapped photos of her, and she decided to play to the camera. Removing the jacket, posing with puckered lips and bedroom eyes as the wind blew through her hair and whipped tendrils across her face.
“Tease,” he said huskily.
The trip ended with them sitting on the cushioned bench, Adelaide backed up to Hector, whose arm stretched along the top of the seat. With one foot curled under her and a glass of wine in hand, Adelaide wound down as the water lapped against the hull and serenaded them in the darkening day.
Regretfully, they couldn’t remain out on the water all night. When they docked at the marina, Adelaide blew out a heavy sigh.
“We have to go,” Hector said quietly, nuzzling her neck.
Before they disembarked, she gave Decker and John a hug and thanked them profusely for an enjoyable evening before Hector took her hand and they walked slowly back to the car.
The ride to the house took place mostly in silence with Adelaide flipping through the photos in Hector’s camera and smiling at each one. Decker had also taken several candid shots of them and texted them over. She particularly liked the one with them seated close together at the end, quietly sipping wine with the water and buildings in the background. She might blow up the image and frame it.
Back at the house, they walked into the bedroom, where they took a leisurely shower together, kissing and touching with all the intimacy and affection of a couple who’d known each other for a very long time. Finally, they dressed for bed—Adelaide in a nightshirt and Hector in pajama bottoms—and climbed under the covers. Adelaide flung her arm across his broad chest and rested her head in the crook of his arm. Eyes closed, she savored this happy place, her spirit full and content the same way a hearty meal might fill her stomach.
“Addie?” Hector said in a low voice.
“Mmm?” She was already half asleep, and shifted more comfortably against him.
“I never wanted the divorce.”
Her eyes opened and she stared into the near-darkness of the room. “I didn’t, either,” she admitted. “I wanted our situation to change, and when it didn’t, I thought it was better for us to break up.”
They both became quiet.
Hector broke the silence. “I still love you.”
For a minute, she didn’t know what to say or do. She’d never thought she’d hear those words from Hector again.
Carefully, Adelaide eased back so she could see him in the dim light. Damn, her man was beautiful. Even in the moonlight-kissed darkness, she saw how handsome he was. That solid jawline, his thick dark hair, and those eyes that seemed to see deep within her, searching for all her secrets.
Hector had never been a very expressive man. Every time he told her he loved her had been a gift, because for him, his actions more than his words indicated his feelings. The lack of communication had been hard for her to comprehend at first because she was prone to verbalizing her feelings—needed to hear those words after growing up in a household where hearing the wordsI love youoccurred as often as rain in the desert.
She smiled, caressing his jaw and neck, and the solidness of his shoulder—reveling in the fact that she could touch him again.
“I love you, too, Hector. You make me so happy. You’re still the man of my dreams.”
