Page 1 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

one

ORION

I don’t wanther on my boat. Fuck. I don’t want anyone on my boat. But especially not Carina Webb, the woman I’m not allowed to disappoint.

It doesn’t matter if my personal vessel was accidentally added to the inventory of my newly purchased boat charter company. I’m in charge on the boat and pay everyone’s salary, but even with that authority, I’m still told it would be a mistake to cancel on Carina. A major faux pas. A black spot on my name before I’ve even been in town twenty-four hours.

I stand at the end of the dock, next to the stern of my beloved sailboat, theTwisted Rigging. The Florida sun is already beating down even though it’s only midmorning. I watch a blond figure walk down its length, past the few dozen other sailboats in this small marina, assuming it to be her.

I tried negotiating my way out of this earlier. Nathan, the deckhand who had shown up ready for duty, made the situation as clear as the water surrounding this island. “Captain, she’s basically Wendell Beach royalty.”

“Orion is fine.” I’ve never been formal with my crews. “And what does that mean?” I scrambled, cleaning up the galley.

“She owns the yoga studio. And everyone loves her clothes.” Nathan gestured like it was self-evident. I blinked at him, wondering how a yoga studio was the center of a beach town, especially one with more tourists than residents. “She’s friends with the Barneses and Foleys. She did a whole sea turtle thing last year.”

With the additional context, I sent Alex a text.

Me

The booking office messed up so I’m chartering Carina Webb today. You know I hate people on my boat. Give me one good reason to not cancel on her.

Alex Barnes

She’ll be the easiest charter you’ve had. She’s likely bringing her friend Haley. Haley’s food will change your life.

And I’ll ban you from Paradise if you upset Carina.

My skin itches with the threat. It’s more than exclusion from the bar he and his family have owned for generations. The message is clear: fuck up this charter and my future in Wendell Beach is in jeopardy. Alex is close with the Foley family who own Coastline Beach House, a luxury resort at the south end of the island. And part of my strategic plan is to get an exclusive contract with them.

I’ve been independent my entire life. Sailing around the world. Never staying more than six months in one spot. Sure, Iend up with my family in Boston for a few months at a time. But I’m tired of the cold and the shuffling. I want a new anchor point. A place to be year-round.

I’ve always craved the heat, so Florida was an easy choice. I could have gone anywhere in the state. But I know Alex and the influence his family has on the tourist industry. I’m not quite starting from scratch here. I have connections. I bought the sailing company and a house to remodel. If ocean kayaking was going to get me killed, I might as well be warm.

After docking late last night, I haven’t even had time to go to my house yet. The one so close to the beach I can throw a rock over my neighbor’s yard and hit the sand. I had planned to go today, but when I woke up this morning I had an email confirming the Nebula Athletics charter.

Four women. They will provide the booze and food. They want to spend the day paddleboarding and sailing on theTwisted Rigging. The boat was technically available for charter since I told the Lost Craft Charters office manager I would be arriving today after sailing her south myself, unwilling to let someone else touch her.

I tried to tell everyone she is my personal vessel and not available for charter. They apologized for the mix-up and talked in circles about why Carina was such a VIP we couldn’t put her on a different sailboat. They said they might have been able to make other arrangements if I had spoken up sooner. But during my weeks at sea, I’d only been skimming my email.

“She’s the nicest boat on the island,” Nathan said. His flattery worked, to my annoyance.

So, I’d ground my teeth, hidden the lotion and tissues and all evidence a thirty-five-year-old single guy had been alone on this boat for weeks. Then loaded up the sail locker with inflatable paddleboards.

I had a second to peek at her Instagram profile. Just long enough to get the sense none of it is candid. As she walks closer, I check her out in the most professional way I can. My eyes go to her feet first. No shoes on the boat. I can tell how my day will go based on a client’s reaction to the rule. She has on what looks like a pair of lightweight sneakers.

Practical.

It doesn’t mean anything. I’ve had guests tell me their sneakers cost the same as my new car payment.

Her legs are long and tan. I really shouldn’t be noticing them, but I suddenly can’t help myself. It must be the weeks at sea, because I’ve never ogled a guest before. I reset my mind. I will be professional all day and then get out my kayak to blow off some steam when she leaves.

She’s carrying an oversized tote bag, which can’t be heavy because she’s holding it with ease. Someone else must have the alcohol and food. I prefer to get those things on board quickly, so everything is stowed long before we sail.

She’s finally close enough I can get a good look at her face. I should have looked more carefully at her Instagram. I should have prepared myself better. She’s absolutely stunning. Her sunglasses cover her eyes, and I’m hit with the need to know what their color is. She smiles and I wonder what her lips taste like. She’s tall, so she doesn’t have to tilt her head up much to look at me. She has a stray lock of hair framing her face from her otherwise neat ponytail. I fight the urge to push it behind her ear.

She extends her hand for me to shake. “Hi, I’m Carina Webb.” Her soothing voice reminds me to stay in the moment. “I know I’m early. I’m here for the Nebula Athletics charter.” I shake her hand, holding on to it longer than I should, appreciating her soft skin.

Her face is already flushed pink. It’s barely ten a.m., but the sun bakes everything early. I make a mental note to find sunscreen. And why doesn’t she have a hat? Shouldn’t that be the first thing to grab before heading outdoors in Florida? “I’m Orion Edwards, captain of theTwisted Rigging. Let me take your bag. Your shoes can go in this basket, and I’ll show you around.”

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