The sloop had bowed into another trough, and then rose for another wave, a much steeper one. The boat pulled to the side, Hank struggled to right it as he kept his eyes on Emma. Then he saw the smile he’d been waiting for—that acquiescing smile. She winked at him as she released the bag held in her hand.
Another deep trough, another steep wave—Hank pulled against the wheel, his eyes darting to the growing swells, then back again to his wife. But she was not there.
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