She contemplated the idea of getting a dog over her second beer. It was probably a bad idea, since she lived in the city. Even if it was a little dog. It would be lonely in her apartment all day. She certainly was lonely in her apartment all night. Stop it, Kate, she told herself. Self-pity is a sign of weakness.

Kate leaned to put her empty can back in the pack and was getting her third when she realized that Jake wasn’t sleeping anymore. She reached over and tilted his hat up, and he gazed sleepily back at her.

“Hello,” she said. “Want a beer?”

“That would be nice.”

She dropped the hat back over his eyes and cracked him a beer. He held out his hand, and she wrapped his fingers around it. He guided it back under his hat, and she cracked another can for herself and leaned back on the cushions. The sky was a brighter blue than before, and the sun had moved so that her end of the boat was partially in the sun. The heat warmed her white blouse uncomfortably. She drank her beer and envied Jake, cool without his shirt. One more unfair thing about civilization.

The third beer went down faster than the second because of the heat. Kate’s head began to swim a little, probably because the sun was hot. She sat up and opened a fourth.

When he heard the crack of the pop-top, Jake lifted his hat for a moment and glanced at her, shrugged and lay back again.

Kate rolled the cold can against her throat and down the front of her blouse and thought about how unfair life was. It was really hot in the sun, but could she go topless? Noooo. And why? Because she was female. Life was sexist. And really, really unfair. She looked over at Jake, cool and comfortable and shirtless, and decided to strike a blow for women everywhere. This is for all the hot women, she thought, and took off her blouse. She was wearing a peach satin and white lace bra, the most conservative underwear Jessie had allowed her to buy. It covered, she reasoned, a lot more of her than a bikini top. She felt much better. She tossed her blouse into the center of the boat and leaned back to finish her beer.

Jake tilted his hat up when he felt her blouse hit his legs.

“Cooler?”

“Much.”

“Try not to take anything else off. You’ll scare the fish.”

She waved her beer can at him and nodded, dabbling her hand in the water. “Here, fish.”

“Kate, did you have any breakfast this morning?”

“Nope.” She took another healthy swig of the beer.

He leaned forward and picked up the cooler, moving it out of her reach.

“Give me your beer,” he said, and she moved to hand it to him, feeling her breasts tighten against the lace as she leaned forward. They felt wonderful.

Jake looked down as he took the can from her.

“Nice bra.”

“Thank you. It’s new.”

He laughed. “Go back to sleep, kid. We’ll go in when you wake up.”


So much for sexless. Jake shook his head as he watched her. There was a lot of woman under that blouse. And there must have been something about Kate he’d missed, because he hadn’t pegged her as a satin-and-lace type. Plain white cotton would have been his guess, although he hadn’t guessed; Kate’s underwear had never occurred to him because he’d never thought of Kate undressed.

She’s repressed, he thought. She wears all that tailored tan clothing and then wears sexy underwear underneath it. But maybe repressed wasn’t the right word. Maybe she was schizophrenic. It would explain why guys like Lance were splatting up against her like bugs on a windshield. The signals were there, and then she shot them down. Jake shook his head again, bewildered by her and at the same time smug that he, at least, was impervious to her charms. Still, he carefully avoided looking at her as she lay curled up, asleep, at the other end of the boat.

No point in pushing his luck.


An hour later, Kate woke up when Jake shook her foot to bring her out of her doze. She sat up and stretched clumsily, and he tossed her blouse to her. She put it on, missing the armhole the first time.

“Time to go home,” he said.

“We should have brought lunch,” Kate said.

“How do you feel?”

Kate considered it. Light-headed. Relaxed. Slightly turned-on. “I’m drunk.”

“I’d guessed that. Button your blouse.” He untied the boat and began to row back to shore. Kate concentrated on her blouse, watching her fingers push the buttons through the holes. I wonder who thought of buttonholes, she thought. And I wonder what she was doing when she thought of them. Visions of trains plunging into tunnels flashed through her head. She was still occupied with making the connection when Jake beached the boat, hauling it up onto the stones while she still sat in it. She climbed out, clumsily pulling the poles and the cooler bag with her.

“Wait a minute,” he said and pulled her around to face him. “Who taught you to dress yourself?”

She had missed a couple of buttons. Big deal. She stood close to him while he straightened her shirt, popping the buttons out through the wrong holes and sliding them back through the right ones. Once his fingers touched her skin, and she instinctively leaned into him just a little, pressing slightly against his hands. He stopped for a minute and said, “Steady, kid,” and then finished buttoning her blouse before he turned her around and sent her up the path with a little shove.

“Don’t go too fast,” he said. “I’m right behind you.” He picked up the gear and took her up a different, much shorter path-one that brought them out above the cabins instead of past the hotel. Then he dropped the gear on her porch and asked her for her key.

“It’s in my bra,” she said and fished for it. It had slipped under her breast, but she found it and gave it to him, warm from her flesh.

“I’m surprised there was room for it in there,” he said and unlocked her door.

She walked to her bed, wheeled around, waved to him to thank him, and fell backward onto the mattress. He picked up her feet and threw them up on the bed and then put his hands under her arms to haul her up onto the pillows.

He looked so cute bending over her with that mustache. She threw her arms around him and drew his face close to hers.

“You’re the brother I never had,” Kate said thickly.

“I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel,” Jake said, and then she passed out in his arms.


? ? ?

Jake went back to the hotel, shaking his head. The woman needed a keeper-any keeper but him. The memory of her-soft and round, with her arms around him- was disturbing. Remember, he told himself, her body might be warm, but she has ice cubes in her eyes and a business plan for a heart.

A vision of Kate smiling at him in the boat rose before him. Well, maybe she was more than that. She was friendly. And she was good company. And she didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives. In fact, she thought of him as a brother. It made him feel both relieved and insulted because after all she was a damn attractive woman. And not nearly as icy as he’d thought. Her blue eyes had been melting when she’d smiled at him right before she’d passed out, cold as a haddock.

It didn’t matter. He was going to stay away from her, that was the safest strategy, he resolved. She would be fine. She was playing golf this afternoon. How much trouble could she get into?

Then he remembered who she was playing golf with and sighed. She really did need a keeper.


An hour later, Kate woke up, still high from the beer, and went in search of food to counteract the alcohol. The big glassed-in dining room was crowded when she found it, so she was surprised to find Penny alone at a table for two.

“Oh, goody. Sit down, Kate. Please, sit down.” There was something gratifying about being that welcome, and Kate smiled as she joined her. Although not overly bright, Penny was truly a warm, open person and Kate wondered how she managed. With all the experience she must have had with men, how did she stay that trusting?

“No Chad?”

Penny shook her head. “He was Saturday. Today is Sunday.”

“Like days-of-the-week underpants.”

“Yeah.” Penny giggled.

“Are you sure you want to get married?”

“Yes.”

Kate waited for more explanation, but Penny just smiled at her-a smile as open and warm as the sun. The waiter brought Penny’s salad.

“You want a salad, too, don’t you Kate? Greg, could you be a honey and just hurry another salad over here for Kate?”

“You bet, Penny.” The waiter beamed at her and shot back to the kitchen.

“It seems a shame to take you off the market,” Kate said. “You bring such happiness to so many this way.”

“I want a baby.” Penny smiled at the thought.

“Oh. How about a husband? Want one of those, too?”

“Oh, sure.” Penny seemed a lot less enthusiastic about the husband than the baby.

“Penny, I don’t mean to pry, but do you love this man you’re marrying?”

“Allan? Oh, sure.”

“Does he, um, know you’re here?”

“Oh, sure. He knows I like to dance and stuff, but he’s very busy with his business. He knows I don’t cheat or anything. Just dance and talk…you know. He likes me to have a good time.”

“Oh.”

Greg was back with Kate’s salad. He never took his eyes off Penny while he served it to her, and Kate had to guide his hand at the last moment to keep the plate from sliding into her lap.

“Thanks.”

“Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”

“Lunch,” Kate suggested.