Unknown Diners

Chapter Four

Lorne's iPhone pinged when the car he had paged pulled to the curb. Catherine took his hand as they started across the sidewalk. "We've not yet decided to whose place we're going." She tilted her head up to receive his kiss. "Where's yours?"

Pierre quickly stepped past to open the car door as Lorne began replying, "A block and a half from the Olympic Village Skytrain station." Then he continued loudly enough for the driver to hear, "the Exchange, Wylie and First."

They snuggled and kissed as they drove off, remaining quiet until Catherine said, "Funny, we're almost neighbours. I'm on Marinaside Crescent, a short walk from the Yaletown station."

"If you have a Creek view, you likely look out on my boat."

"You have a boat? You've never mentioned being a boater."

"No, I guess when I'm doing wine and food, I do wine and food. None in my boating world know I'm a wine writer."

"Yes, you're certainly single-minded in your focus." She gave him a wry smile. "So what type of boat?"

"She's a cutter-rigged sloop."

"Oh, thank God! If you'd said you're a powerboater, I would have given up on you." She giggled and tilted her head up to kiss him as she squeezed his hand, which hadn't let go of hers since they got into the cab. "My father has a sailboat. I love sailing. There are so few of them down there in the marina now. They're mostly huge powerboats. Dad calls them gin palaces."

He stroked her hand, prompting another kiss. "Would you rather go to the boat?"

"I'd love to. I haven't been aboard a sailboat for so long."

Lorne glanced up to see where they were. "Turn down Burrard, across the bridge to Pacific. We're going to Quayside Marina, foot of Davie, beyond Urban Fare." After he saw the driver nod, he caressed Catherine's hand as she snuggled into his chest. He moved his other hand to cup the back of her head.

"Is it big enough for what I have in mind doing with you?"

"It depends on what you have in mind. She's now the smallest sailboat in the marina since the eighteen-metre ketch left a few months ago."

"Smallest? Over eighteen metres? Most think Dad's is huge at fifteen metres." She sat up and smiled at him as she ran her hand across his chest, then ventured lower, exploring the hard rippled muscles of his abdomen through his shirt. Lorne jerked, and she abruptly stopped.

He turned away, his shoulders quaking. "Sorry, Catherine... I... I didn't mean to... it just... it won't go away... Sorry... So sorry."

She rubbed the back of his head, stroked his arm and tried to comfort him. "Tell me what's going on, Lorne. I'd love to help you with it."

"The priest... The effing pervert... Since then, I've had problems with..." He turned his head to look at her, a tortured expression on his wet face. "It's why I've shied away from women. We don't want to get into that, it's far too horrid."

She pulled his shoulder to gently turn his body toward her and eased his face down for a kiss. Then she sat staring at him, speechless for a long while, trying to sort things in her mind. Oh, God! What have I triggered here? He seems so ashamed. Must be why there was no response all those years ago.

Lorne finally broke the silence. "We can call it an evening and go back to simply being good friends. I really do enjoy you as a friend. You've been my favourite woman ever since I met you. I love you dearly, Catherine. I'll help you find a proper man."

"What the hell are you babbling about? I've found a proper man. A very proper man. The priest was a fucking pervert... Pardon my language, but the past doesn't matter. We can work through this."