I recognized Vanessa the moment I spotted her across the room.
Four summers had passed since I’d last seen her, but she was just as I remembered: long wavy hair, exotic good looks, slinky figure. My pulse ticked up a notch.
I was sitting at the bar with some buddies from the boat (I work on a commercial fishing trawler), and we were having a few beers to celebrate our first night ashore in two weeks. Vanessa sat in a booth with a man who looked like he knew how lucky he was. When Vanessa saw me, she broke into a bright smile of recognition and beckoned me over.
“Hey, Deanie!” she exclaimed, half-rising for a kiss and a hug. Her hair, fragrant and soft against my face, was the color of malt whiskey. “Join us, will you? Eddie,” she said, turning to her companion, “this... Read More
Only for Members
Your privacy is guaranteed