Florida in September was warm and balmy, I discovered as we, my sister-in-law Alice and I, disembarked from the plane outside the terminal at Orlando. We were to meet our husbands, Marty and Carl, who had headed out on a 'manly' trip on their motorcycles two weeks prior from Colorado. We flew to meet and ride with them down to the point of the peninsula and camp along the way.

I saw Marty standing near the motorcycle dressed in jeans, boots, and leather jacket, and felt a rush of heat. His black hair and beard, with just a touch of grey, seemed to complement the sleekness of the black tank and chrome pipes — a sexy image that would invade my dreams for the next two weeks.