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move, I have to be sure it’s more than just sex. I’m not a one-time and done kind of girl. I’d be crushed if I got past how we started and gave myself to you only for it never to happen again—if that was all you wanted.
    “The island’s three miles in circumference, right?” I need to get my mind off of you and me and all that implies.
    “It is.” You step toward me and hold out your hand. “I’ve never been all the way around. Let’s go explore.”
    There are a lot of things on this island I’d like to explore.
    My fingers tingle as I take your hand. We head to the far side of the clearing and duck into the trees. “Whoa. How are we getting through here?” Mangrove roots arch and turn, forming cage-like structures at the base of each tree.
    “We climb and watch for water. I don’t want you sinking.” Your hand slips up my arm and clamps down just above my elbow. “Hold tight.”
    I twist my fingers in the side of your t-shirt and follow you, stepping where you step. You help me up and over the mangrove roots. It takes us a while, but finally, we emerge from the tangled trees into tall grass that gives way to a sea of water lilies.
    “There’s water under there,” you say, pointing to the lilies. You grip me even tighter. “I don’t want to scare you, but watch for gators. You never know.”
    My eyes skirt around us, delving into the tall grass and lilies. “Maybe we should go back.”
    “Look over there,” you say, ignoring my suggestion. “It’s a boat house.”
    The ramshackle wooden structure looks like an abandoned shack to me, not a boathouse, but I step lightly behind you through slick mud, admittedly curious about what’s inside.
    Bugs buzz in the trees, and the relentless sun beats down on my face. It has to be nearing noon. I slip; one foot shoots out from under me. You lunge for me and pull me against you before I fall.
      “Thanks.” I’m pressed into you, your hands flat on my back holding me tight. Your eyes are hazy, expectant.
    I reach up—my hand shakes—and brush a curl back from your forehead. I caress your cheek with my eyes; run them over your nose and down to your lips. Should I?
    In my hesitation, you to set me back on my feet before I have a chance to act. “Close one,” you mutter. I’m not sure if you mean my slip, or the almost kiss.
    You forge ahead the few yards to the boathouse and peer inside. “Hey! Looks like we’re catching our dinner.”
    I catch up and find you digging around through fishing gear inside a big canoe. “I thought you said the kitchen was stocked.”
    “We’re on an island!” You’re beaming holding a net in one hand and a fishing rod in the other. “Let’s get out on the water and see what we can catch.”
    I can’t help but laugh at your exuberance. A flash of what you were like as a young boy comes to mind. All curls and big brown eyes. “Did you go fishing with your grandpa when you went camping?” I step in the canoe beside you and pick up a red and white bobber.
    “Yeah,” you say bending and opening a tackle box. “My sister was like the fish whisperer. Every time her bait hit the water a fish would jump on.” You take a rusty hook out of the box and hold it up examining it.
    “You weren’t as lucky?” I toss the bobber up and catch it.
    You chuckle. “I have crap luck at fishing. Let’s hope you’re better.”
    “Don’t count on it. Thank God for grocery shopping assistants, huh?”
    Your wide grin mesmerizes me. You narrow your eyes, holding a question in them.
    I lift my brows. “What?”
    “I hoped I could make you happy by bringing you here. I guess I never realized that I’d get something from you.”
    Now I narrow my eyes at you. “What are you getting from me?”
    “I haven’t smiled this much in a long, long time.”
    “And I haven’t even kissed you yet.” The words slip out before I realize what I’m saying. My eyes widen, and I suck in my lips.
    You laugh and pull me in for a hug.