The Chartered Yacht – Part 2: At Anchor

The cove was so still that the boat seemed to hang in the sky.

The water was black glass, the stars reflected perfectly. A crescent moon lay low over the hills. Crickets sang on the shore. The only sounds were the creak of the hull and the lap of tiny waves.

They swam at midnight, off the stern, naked as children, shrieking at the cold. The water glowed faintly green with phosphorescence, every stroke trailing sparks. Vesna floated on her back with her arms wide, looking at the sky, and Goran swam circles round her, laughing.

"We are insane," she gasped.

"We are sailors."

"We are middle-aged."

"We are middle-aged sailors."

They climbed back aboard, shivering and giddy, wrapped in towels. He lit a lantern. Warm yellow light spread across the deck. She made hot tea in the galley and brought up two mugs, steam curling.

They sat in the cockpit under a blanket, shoulders pressed together, watching the stars.

"I'm happy," said Vesna.

"So am I."

"I'd forgotten how."

"Can I ask you something?" said Goran.

"Yes."

"May I kiss my wife? In the middle of the Adriatic?"

"Yes," said Vesna. "And if I say stop, you must sail us to every island in Dalmatia."

"There are twelve hundred."

"Then we'd better start."

He kissed her, slow and warm, tasting of tea and salt. She kissed him back with all the tenderness of seventeen years, her fingers in his wet hair. The boat rocked softly. The lantern flickered. Far across the water, a lighthouse winked once and was still.

When they parted, both of them were smiling.

"Green?" he asked.

"Green," said Vesna. "Very green."

They chartered the same yacht every year. The children say the boat is their parents' third child. They are not wrong.

More married couple romance: The Cruise · Couples Retreat · The Second Honeymoon