Black Water

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Archie pushed the gearshift into third and set his hand on her knee. Coast Highway, southbound. Man in the moon big and close, like he was tilting his head for a peek down into the convertible. Archie glanced up, couldn't tell if the guy was smiling or frowning. Didn't care because Gwen's skin was warm through the dress, a few degrees warmer than the breeze gusting through the car.

He looked at the speedometer then at her. Saw her hair moving her face sketched in the orange glow of the dashboard lights. A silver champagne flute in one hand, a smile.

Archie pretended he'd never seen her before. Pretended he trying to look at something else-the squid boat off of Crystal Co in a pool of white light, say-only to have this Gwen creature drop into his world like some special effect. There she was. What luck.

He lifted the hem of her dress up over her knees and slipped his hand under. She eased back in the seat a little and he heard the breath catch in her throat. He caught the faint smell of her, windblown but unmistakable. Archie had a sharp nose and loved what it brought him. Like right now, the milk-and-orange-blossoms smell of Gwen, bass scent of his life. All the other notes that came to him-coastal sage and the ocean, the new car leather-were just the riffs and fills.

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