Luke turned the wheel so the wind would once again fill the sails and we continued down the coast. I climbed up into the main sail and lay against it with my feet on the boom. I whipped off the towel and stood naked in the sail. We were far enough out that no one could see except Luke.
“You’re a torturous wench,” he said.
“Don’t look. Don’t torture yourself,” I teased.
It made me feel free, me against the sun and the sea. The swim made me feel better. I fanned out my wet hair to help the wind dry it. I spread out my arms and closed my eyes. I was angry at Ryan, and at myself. I wished he could see me now and feel jealous, and then I realized he probably wouldn’t. He would figure it was typical Morgan and her craziness.
“Let me know if you decide to tack,” I said.
Luke laughed, he liked my craziness. He would always tease me about what kind of underwear I was wearing at work and I would flash him when no one was looking. It had gotten to be our shift joke. Luke had no shortage of women in his life, so our antics, were just that. I finally wrapped the towel back around me and climbed down.
“Can I have that beer now?” I asked.
“Help yourself,” he said “but you need to go home tonight so no tequila for you.”
“Do you have tequila?” I teased “and what, you don’t want a naked girl on your boat, spending the night?”
“Not a naked girl I have no chance with. A naked girl whose heart’s all tangled up with someone else.”