Chapter 6: Cord’s Bottom
The Pier 19 Ladder
Naples Pier
10:22 P.M.
“You’re touching my ass,” he said as I gave him a push up the ladder.
I sort of giggled and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” In truth, his bottom was tight and perfectly squeezable in my right palm as I shoved him upward.
He kept climbing, then froze halfway up. The ladder was creaking and swaying under our combined weight, sounding like it was going to give out, sending our bodies plummeting to Green Palm Beach. Cord was motionless, stuck to the rungs like he’d been glued there.
The breeze had turned into a wind that whipped us, chilling our bare chests and whistling between our legs. It licked hungrily at us. How his Stetson didn’t fall off was beyond my comprehension.
The moon and stars painted u
