We had a lazy day floating on Gerard’s boat, and after a while he steered into a sheltered cove. He set the anchor and came over to join me, where I lay sunning on a blanket. The smell of sea air, the clear, sunny day, and a hunk of a skipper seemed like a perfect way to spend a Saturday.
“Arrrr matey, do ye thinks I be a good buccaneer?” He put on a deep pirate voice.
“Oh yeah, cap’n, do ye think I be a good cabin boy?” I tried for an innocent look as I said it. He peeled off his shirt, and I had to force myself to look from his pecs to his face.
“Ya know, sir, rule of the sea says, the cap’n always goes down on his ship.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That be ‘down with his ship,’ matey.”
“Not on Lady Bertha. Rules say, ‘the skipper goes down on his ship.’ I’m the person channeling Lady Be
