Watching the waves as they rolled up the shore, Denise gathered her courage.

“Was it because you regretted what happened?”

“No,” he said quietly, his hands on her skin again. “It wasn’t that at all.”

“Then what was it?”

Without answering directly, Taylor followed her eyes, tracking the waves. “Do you remember back when you were a kid? Around Christmas? And how the anticipation was sometimes even more exciting than opening the presents?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what it reminds me of. I’d been dreaming about what it would finally be like . . .”

He stopped, considering how best to communicate what he meant.

“So the anticipation was actually more exciting than last night?” she asked.

“No,” he said quickly. “You’ve got it all wrong. It was just the opposite. Last night was wonderful-you were wonderful. The whole thing was so perfect . . . I guess it makes me sad to think that there’s never going be a first time with you again.”

At that, he grew quiet once more. Denise, musing on his words and the sudden stillness in his gaze, decided to let the subject go. Instead she leaned back against him, comforted by the reassuring warmth of his encircling arms. They sat that way for a long time, each lost in thought.

Later, as the sun began its midafternoon march across the sky, they packed up their things, ready to head home. Taylor carried the blanket, towels, and picnic basket they’d brought with them. Kyle was walking ahead of them, his body covered in sand, carrying his pail and shovel as he weaved through the last of the sand dunes. All along the footpath, a sea of orange and yellow blossoms bloomed, their colors spectacular. Denise bent and plucked a blossom, bringing it to her nose.

“Around here, we call it the Jobellflower,” Taylor said, watching her. She handed it to him, and Taylor wagged a finger at her in mock reproach.

“You know it’s against the law to pick flowers on the dunes. They help protect us from the hurricanes.”

“Are you going to turn me in?”

Taylor shook his head. “No, but I’m going to make you listen to the legend of how they got their name.”

She pushed away the hair that had blown into her eyes. “Is this another story like the dram tree?”

“Sort of. It’s a little more romantic, though.”

Denise took a step closer to him. “So tell me about the flower.”

He twirled it between his fingers, and the petals seemed to blend together.

“The Jobellflower was named for Joe Bell, who lived on this island a long time ago. Supposedly, Joe had been in love with a woman, but she ended up marrying someone else. Heartbroken, he moved to the Outer Banks, where he intended to live the life of a recluse. On his first morning in his new home, however, he saw a woman walking along the beach in front of his house, looking terribly sad and alone. Every day, at the same time, he would see her, and eventually he went out to meet her, but when she saw him, she turned and ran away. He thought he’d frightened her off for good, but the next morning she was walking along the beach again. This time, when he went to see her, she didn’t run, and Joe was immediately struck by how beautiful she was. They talked all day, then the next, and soon they were in love. Surprisingly, at the same time he was falling in love, a small batch of flowers began to grow right behind his house, flowers never seen before in this area. As his love grew, the flowers continued to spread, and by the end of the summer, they’d become a beautiful ocean of color. It was there that Joe knelt and asked her to marry him. When she agreed, Joe picked a dozen blossoms and handed them to her, but strangely, she recoiled, refusing to take them. Later, on their wedding day, she explained her reason. ‘This flower is the living symbol of our love,’ she said. ‘If the flowers die, then our love will die as well.’ This terrified Joe-for some reason, he knew in his heart that truer words had never been spoken. So he began to plant or seed Jobellflowers all along the stretch of beach where they’d first met, then eventually throughout the Outer Banks, as a testimony to how much he loved his wife. And every year, as the flowers were spread, they fell deeper and deeper in love.”

When he was finished, Taylor bent and picked a few more of the blossoms, then handed the bunch to Denise.

“I like that story,” she said.

“I do, too.”

“But didn’t you just break the law, too?”

“Of course. But I figure that this way, we’ll each have something to keep the other in line.”

“Like trust?”

“That too,” he said as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

Taylor drove her into work that night, though Kyle didn’t stay with her. Instead Taylor offered to watch him at Denise’s house.

“We’ll have fun. We’ll play a little ball, watch a movie, eat some popcorn.”

After hemming and hawing, Denise finally agreed, and Taylor dropped her off right before seven. As their truck pulled away, Taylor winked at Kyle.

“Okay, little man. First stop is my house. If we’re going to watch a movie, we’re going to need a VCR.”

“He’s driving,” Kyle responded vigorously, and Taylor laughed, well used to Kyle’s form of communication by now.

“We’ve also got one more stop to make, okay?”

Kyle simply nodded again, seemingly relieved that he didn’t have to go into the diner. Taylor picked up his cellular phone and made a call, hoping the guy on the other end wouldn’t mind doing him a favor.

At midnight Taylor loaded Kyle into the car, then went to pick up Denise. Kyle woke only briefly when Denise got in, then curled up onto her lap as he usually did. Fifteen minutes later everyone was in bed; Kyle in his room, Denise and Taylor in hers.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier,” Denise said, slipping off the marigold work dress.

Taylor found it difficult to concentrate as it fell to the floor. “What did I say?”

“About you being sad that there will never be a first time again.”

“And?”

In her bra and panties, she moved closer, nuzzling up to him. “Well, I was just thinking that if we make this time even better than last night, your anticipation might come back.”

Taylor felt her body sidle up against his. “How so?”

“If every time is better than the last, you’ll always be looking forward to the next time.”

Taylor put his arms around her back, becoming aroused. “Do you think that’ll work?”

“I have no idea,” she said, beginning to unbutton his shirt, “but I’d sure like to find out.”

Taylor slipped out of her room just before dawn, as he’d done the day before, though this time he stopped at the couch. Not wanting Kyle to see them sleeping together, he dozed on and off for another couple of hours until Denise and Kyle came wandering out of their bedrooms. It was nearly eight o’clock-Kyle hadn’t slept that late in a long time.

Denise scanned the room and immediately understood the reason. From the looks of things, it was obvious that he’d been up late. The TV was at an odd angle, the VCR was on the floor beside it, cables snaking out everywhere. Two half-empty cups sat on the end table with three cans of Sprite alongside them. Pieces of popcorn were scattered on the floor and on the couch; a Skittles wrapper had wedged itself between the pillows on the chair. On top of the television were two movies, The Rescuers and The Lion King, the cases open, videos on top.

Denise put her hands on her hips, taking in the mess.

“I didn’t notice the mess you two made last night when I came in. It looks like you two had yourselves a good old time.”

Taylor sat up from the couch and wiped his eyes. “We had fun.”

“I’ll bet,” she groaned.

“But did you see what else we did?”

“You mean aside from spraying popcorn all over my furniture?”

He laughed. “C’mon. Let me show you. I’ll get this stuff cleaned up in a minute.”