Read Online Terms of Surrender by Leslie Kelly - Free Book Online

she’d like on her. Well, one other thing. Him.
    “Thank you,” he said simply.
    She liked that he didn’t make an issue of it. She would have been disappointed if he’d gotten all he-man instead of letting her do what she’d wanted to do—repay him for helping her with her car.
    It simply reinforced what she already suspected about Danny. He was extremely confident in his own masculinity, not the type to feel threatened by something like a woman making the first move or buying him a cheeseburger.
    Oh, how she liked him. And she suspected that, by the end of the night, she would like him a whole lot more.

4
    Saturday, 5/7/10, 05:25 p.m.
www.mad-mari.com/2011/05/07/quickone
Comment #74
    Okay, one last comment for the day, then I’m turning this phone off and not checking in again. Just wanted you all to know that tomorrow’s Sunday Sinner post might be a little late.
    I also might have a whole lot of inspiration for writing it.
    At least, if I’m lucky.;-)
    See ya!

    BEING IN THE NAVY, USED to being moved around and living all over the world, Danny had never bought a house of his own. He either lived on base, or sometimes off base in an apartment. He’d invested in only two things of substance—both of which were mobile. One was, of course, his classic car, which he, with the help of his dad and brothers, had spent a full year restoring.
    The other was Jazzie Girl, his 27-foot cruiser, which he kept at one of the local marinas. Simple, yet graceful with her 40-foot mast, she was his escape clause when he wanted water instead of air. Flying was his first choice, always, but sometimes he just liked hoisting the sails and exploring the Chesapeake.
    He saw by the look on Mari’s face as they pulled into the marina that she liked the water. He had the feeling she would especially like it on a breezy afternoon like this one, when they’d skim over the bay like a stone skipped on a flat pond.
    “These are beautiful,” she said, staring from vessel to vessel, many of which were much larger—and far more grand—than his. The late afternoon sun sent gleams of gold over the beautifully curved structures which danced on the water. “I’m so excited, I’ve never been sailing.”
    Surprised, he asked, “Seriously? Where do you live?” It was something they hadn’t even gotten around to discussing. God did he hoped she didn’t say Kansas or Buffalo or anywhere far away.
    “Near the harbor in Baltimore,” she admitted with a self-deprecating shrug, obviously realizing this entire area was a boating mecca. “I’ve just never known anyone who had a boat. Remember, I was an army brat, not a navy one.”
    “Well, let’s find out if you have sea legs. There she is,” he said, pointing toward his slip.
    They walked closer and she murmured, “ Jazzie Girl? ”
    He groaned a little. “My sister harassed me into it. She said since I didn’t name my firstborn after her, she should at least get the boat.”
    Mari started, glancing at him with a raised brow. Knowing what she thought, he quickly raised a hand, palm out. “I meant my car. I definitely don’t have any rug rats out there.”
    Nodding, a slight smile on her beautiful, sweet-tasting lips, she said, “Not one of those sailors with a different family in every port, then?”
    “Definitely not.”
    Helping her on board, he got busy preparing for their trip.
    “Need help?” she asked as he began rigging the main sail.
    “Nah, it’s routine. Why don’t you go down to the galley and put the food in the cooler?” They’d stopped on the way over and picked up a bottle of wine, as well as some fruit and cheese.
    “Good idea. Then I can be on the lookout for hatchets or sharp knives while I’m alone down there.”
    He gawked.
    Chuckling, she said, “Haven’t you ever seen Dead Calm? ”
    Vaguely remembering the thriller, about a psycho killing people on a boat, he replied, “Don’t worry, no hatchets, no knives—except plastic ones, which should be