Devlin was not going to lose another night’s sleep over the woman.
The first had been changing his boat’s name for her. What was up with that s**t anyway? Stupid idea.
Yet, as he stared out at the Belle through his front window, she seemed to be sitting placidly, content with her new name.
He was so tired that he almost felt nauseous.
Closing his eyes only made it worse.
Lying down for five minutes felt like five hours and getting up wasn’t any better.
A walk. Maybe some movement would clear the woman out of his head.
Devlin headed out the door, patted Belle on the tip of the bow, and strolled along the waterfront.
It was past ten, and while Eastlake still hummed with Seattle’s traffic, three blocks down the hill, the silence wrapped around the small marinas tucked between clusters
