Coast Guard Lieutenant Commander Scott Everly had gone six long months without sex, although in all honesty it felt more like six years. Unintended celibacy weighed heavily on his mind and body as he paddled his kayak through the mangrove channel, using vigorous physical exercise to sublimate his baser needs. He’d tried it all. Jogging, strength training, boxing, but in spite of his daily workouts, insomnia plagued him. Digging deep, he pushed himself harder, rowing full-out until his shoulder, back and chest muscles ached with just the right kind of sweetness. “Better than sex,” he lied to himself. “Who needs sex when you’ve got all this?” The early Monday-morning sun bathed warm rays, the color of Florida grapefruits, across the deep green, tree-shrouded landscape. It was good to be home again, even if it was only for three weeks. He was on leave, although the joke in the ranks was that a Coastie never went on vacation; they were born ready for action. While he loved his commission in D.C., he missed Key West and his family something fierce.
