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."

The car pulled to a stop at the bottom of the circle across from the marina gate. Lorne touched the Accept on his phone to confirm the fee, added a tip, then got out and gave Catherine a hand.

They stood on the sidewalk, and she wrapped her arms around him, laying her cheek on his shoulder, looking up into his eyes. "Don't ever be ashamed of your body. The only things you should ever feel shame about are your actions. Never about you. Never." She squeezed him tighter, aware of his fragility and trying to understand its source.

She felt him relaxing. "That's better." She eased her squeeze and looked toward the marina. "Let's go aboard, I'm excited to get to know you in other ways."

He led the way to the gate, put his thumb on the pad and his eye up to the scanner. The lock clicked, he pushed the door open, ushered her through, and they headed arm-in-arm down the ramp. A few slips along, he stopped. "Here she is, Tastevin."

"I drool over this boat from my patio and balconies." She turned and pointed across the marina at the three-storey townhouse. "That's my place, the one with all the flowers on the rails."

"Small world, amazingly small. Would you care to step aboard? Or would you rather head home?"

"Head home? Are you crazy? You're not going to back out of this anymore, Lorne. Whatever it is. I'm not giving up. Let's go aboard and work at moving beyond it."

"Simply checking." He shrugged. "I don't know how to read a woman's intentions." He led the way through the transom gate and into the cockpit, thumbing pads and getting green lights as he went. The companionway lock clicked, and he pulled the doors open, slid the cover forward and took Catherine's hand to lead her down the steps into the main saloon.

"Yup! A lot bigger than Dad's. This is huge. How big?"

"A centimetre less than twenty metres. It's easier on registration and other regulations being under twenty." He looked at her with a crooked smile. "I exaggerate the size, call her twenty."

"That's not unusual. Most men exaggerate size." She smiled at him and giggled.

He took her on a tour of the boat, starting aft and ending forward in the master cabin. "There's an ensuite head here where you can refresh. Let me get clean towels. The shower is over there, do you want to shower first?"

"No, I want to shower with you."

"I meant before we... Before."

"I know, silly. Only teasing." She removed his blazer and tie and laid them on the settee. "I love that you wearing suspenders, rather than a belt. So few wear them." She undid his shirt buttons, playing with his chest and abs along the way.

He continued to stand mesmerised as she slipped the suspenders off, undid the waist clasp, pulled the zipper down and allowed his trousers to fall to the cabin sole. "No underwear?"

"No, I stopped years ago. I kept getting tangled, so I carried on with the regimental tradition of my kilt." He glanced down as he shuffled his shoes off and stepped out of his trousers.

"I've never seen you in a kilt. Didn't know you were Scottish."

"Wilson is one of the three most common Scottish names." He shrugged. "Most miss it because it doesn't start with Mac."

Catherine slid his shirt off, picked up his trousers and laid them on the settee, then stood back looking at him and waiting.

Lorne stared at her for a while, then blew out a deep breath and asked, "Would you mind if I undressed you?"

"I've been expecting you to." She sighed. "I'd be delighted if you did, though, at this stage, Lorne, you needn't ask." She stepped out of her shoes and toed them aside, then stood eyeing him up and down as she waited.

"Where should I start? I'm not very good at this. Truth be told, I've never done it before."

"Never done what? Undress a woman?"

"That, never. Nor let a woman undress me. I've never gone beyond kissing, except in my imagination."

"I don't see that as a problem. I'd love to teach you. I had no idea you were so innocent. We can stop now if you wish."

"Do you want to stop?"

"Good God, no! What I want is you to relax and begin doing all the tender things you've dreamed of with me over the years." She saw the tears rolling down his cheeks and pulled his face down to hers to lick them away. "You're such a tender sweetheart, such a gentle soul. Come, I'll guide you."

He untied the silk scarf and removed it from her neck, then stood staring at her, speechless.

"The dress has hidden zippers up the sides, under these flaps. Undo them and peel it inside-out from the hem up over my head. It's simple."

He released the body-hugging black dress at the sides and peeled it up as she raised her arms.

"Let me show you how to undo my bra. It's easy, watch." She shook her released breasts, rubbed them to relieve the itch from their confinement, and smiled as she saw his eyes following them.

"May I? May I touch them also?"

"Of course, you may, that's one of the reasons they're there. They're meant to be touched, to be caressed, fondled, licked, sucked."

Catherine pulled her panties down and stepped out of them. Lorne's shoulders quaked. She wrapped her arms around him and gently rocked, cooing in a soft voice, "It's alright, everything's fine. Let it out."

His sobbing gradually eased. "I've dreamed of this since I first saw you all those years ago. Now I don't know what to do."

"You don't need to know, Lorne. Love is natural. Making love is instinct. Stop thinking about it and let it happen." She kissed his neck. "Nothing has to happen. Let's get into bed and cuddle. Hold each other. Be together and... We don't have to do anything except be together."