Page 44 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

But he doesn’t owe me an explanation of what he’s done in the past. We’re not together. We’re not moving toward anything except friendship. Despite that, I find myself wanting to know every fact about him. I want to know his scars and his tattoos and every person who’s broken his heart.

What I’ve seen of him is the surface, and he has depths I can’t imagine. I want to explore them all.

He doesn’t say anything, so I break the silence. “Let me guess. She wants you back? Pregnant with your child?”

“Definitely not the latter, maybe the former.” He shifts and rests his forearms on the opposite counter. “We hadn’t been together long when I decided to move to Florida. She wascoming with me at first but thought it was a temporary thing. We’d sail down, spend a few weeks in the Keys, head back to Boston. Then I bought a house. She wasn’t upending her life for someone she just met.”

The thought of someone else in bed with him on theTwisted Riggingturns my stomach. I know it’s happened, but I want the boat to be our spot. I want to be special to him.

“Why did you take the call, then? If it’s clearly over for you?” I hope it’s over for him.

The possessiveness I feel toward him doesn’t help anything.

“We very briefly lived together. Sort of. It wasn’t anything official. I don’t like other people on my boat for extended periods.” He waves his hand in the air. “Not important. It was winter. Anyway, I had her place as my shipping address on a couple of websites. I placed an order and didn’t realize until it was too late. I’ve been trying to coordinate with her to get it to my sister.”

“Oh, that’s logical,” I say. Because it is. “Were you together long?” It’s possible I was a rebound fuck to him.

“A couple of months,” he says.

They lived together?I don’t voice the thought because I don’t want to sound like I’m judging him. I’m not, but that’s a level of seriousness I’ve never achieved in a relationship. The goal was to marry Hamilton and I still couldn’t bring myself to live with him. I didn’t think Orion was the committing type. None of this makes sense to me.

He grabs a dish and loads the dishwasher. “I tend to burn hot and then burn out. I meet someone, convince myself she’s the one. Then a couple weeks later, it’s done.”

My gut absolutely clenches, a feeling so awful it might be permanent. I can’t imagine a future where it won’t toss and turn. This conversation will wreck me.

I’m right to keep my distance from him. I won’t survive this man deciding to walk away from me. It would be so much more. He would dismiss me and move on without a second thought.

I want to say something, but I’m frozen.

He finishes with the dishwasher and then stares at me. I lean against the counter because I need it to hold me up.

“Anyway, she wanted to hold my package until I go back to Boston. I told her my sister will swing by this weekend.”

“Good. It’s good to get your stuff.” I wipe the counter with a cloth he had out.

“Carina.” His voice is a plea.

“What?” I say, giving him my full attention.

He doesn’t answer—his eyes beg me to understand. I wish I couldn’t read him so well, because while I know what he wants from me, I don’t know what I want him to say. That I’m right and we have no future. Or he’s changed and we’re different.

I let the moment pass and return to cleaning up the kitchen.

sixteen

ORION

I don’t go outon the water the next day. I’ve spent so much of my life on a boat that the ground feels rocky beneath my feet.

Instead, I have the pleasant task of reviewing administrative work for the business here in Florida and the one in Boston. I have capable managers at both locations, but someone is required to sign off on certain things and that person is me. When I’ve traveled before I didn’t micromanage, and it never bit me in the ass. I want to be hands-on now.

I have plans for the company here. I want to expand. I’ve never lacked ambition, even if it doesn’t show the way people are used to. We currently cater to families on vacation, but I want to offer more. Luxury day trips with personalized menus and service. Overnight trips for a once-in-a-lifetime adventure. So I need more boats. I need to be constantly coming up with new ways to get repeat guests and always offer the best experience.

I could advertise to brands and social media influencers. I should reach out to the Foleys to get placement at Coastline Beach House. But I’m hesitant. It would be a terrificopportunity, but I’m not sold on working with Beckett. I’ll see if I can get more information from Carina or someone familiar with how the resort works. It would change my calculations if they referred guests who want to do sailing trips directly to Lost Craft Charters.

I’m doing market research and reviewing invoices for the boat repairs we always need when I get a text from Christian inviting me to the tasting room at his distillery. It’s three in the afternoon. I’ve been here since six in the morning, so I can leave. I wave goodbye to the office staff and drive the short distance to the address he gave me.

I didn’t know what to expect when I get there, but it wasn’t discovering Wendell Beach Rum Works is next door to Nebula Athletics Studio and Store.

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