Barefoot in the Rain by Claire Roxanne St

Author:Claire, Roxanne St. [Claire, Roxanne St.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Contemporary Women, Contemporary, Fiction, Romance, Erotica, Fiction / Romance - Contemporary
ISBN: 9781455508280
Publisher: Forever
Published: 2012-10-30T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Jocelyn’s heart stopped when she turned onto Sea Breeze, the sight before her so completely surreal she had to brake and blink to accept what she was seeing.

Guy was halfway across the street, dragging their old aluminum rowboat behind him. And Zoe was helping.

“What are you doing?” Jocelyn asked as she climbed out of the car.

“Oh, shit,” Guy said, dropping the rope. “Now we’re busted.”

Jocelyn slammed the car door and marched closer, dividing her attention between Guy, who looked a bit sheepish, and Zoe, who hooked a hand on her hip and flattened him with an I-told-you-so look.

“Where are you going with that thing?” Jocelyn demanded, not even sure how they’d gotten it down from the garage loft.

“We’re hiding it,” Guy said.

“Where? Why?”

He looked at Zoe for help, but she just waved an innocent hand at him. “It’s your gig, hot stuff. You do the ’fessing up.”

“We’re hiding it in the river,” Guy finally said, shuffling on old sneakers. It was the first time Jocelyn had seen him out of bedroom slippers. “You probably don’t know this, but there’s one behind those houses,” he added.

It wasn’t exactly a river, but a series of crisscrossing canals that cut into the western border of Pleasure Pointe. The waterways were dotted with tiny mangrove hammocks generously referred to as “islands” even though they were little more than mounds of muck and home to gators and snakes. Locals kayaked and fished in there, just as Guy had many years ago.

In that boat.

“I know what’s back there,” she said, shifting her attention to the boat just as a sudden and unexpected memory surged up. A snapshot, really, of a moment in that rowboat, holding a paddle, smiling up at Mom, who held a camera, laughing, calling out Say Happy Birthday, Jossie.

She put her hand to her mouth as the impact washed over her senses, so crisp and clear she could practically smell the brackish water and feel the warm wood of a paddle in her hand.

“Why are you doing this?” She directed the question to Zoe, who really should know better.

“So you don’t sell it in the yard sale,” Zoe said, obviously parroting Guy.

When Jocelyn opened her mouth to respond, her father held up his hand. “Don’t try to gift me, girlie, there’s is nothing you can buy me that will equal what this boat means to me.”

“It means something to you?” How was that possible? He had no memory of, let alone attachment to, this boat.

“Darn right it does.”

“What?” Jocelyn got close enough to see two bright spots of color on his cheeks, along with a light sheen of perspiration from the exertion. “What does it mean to you, Guy?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting back and forth the way they did when he was trying to mine for a memory and came up with nothing. He finally gave a look of sheer desperation to Zoe. “Help me out, Blondie. You know I’m not good with details.”

Zoe wiped a stray curl from her face, her skin also pink, either from sun or strain or mischievousness.

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