Page 67 of Meet Me in Tahiti

No hiding. No vagueness. No dodging the truth.

The truth was, he’d fallen for someone he wasn’t supposed to. And though it hadn’t started with intent—it had started with stargazing and shared jokes and akind of gravity he couldn’t explain—it had ended with her in his arms in the middle of the tropical rainforest.

He owed it to the agency to own it. His fingers moved steadily across the keys.

I’m writing to report a breach of conduct on my part during the current charter aboard the M/V Latitude. While I have maintained my duties with full attention to guest safety and service, I did develop a personal relationship with one of the guests, a Ms. Tessa Reed, toward the latter part of the trip.

He paused, swallowing against the dryness in his throat.

There was no reckless behavior while we were at sea. However, I understand this violates the standards of the company, and I accept full responsibility. I have not discussed this with my crew, nor have I involved them in any way.

He sat back and reread the lines. It wasn’t everything—didn’t mention how real it felt, or how hard he’d tried to stay on the right side of the line. But it said enough. Enough to be accountable.

He finished it.

I will step down from this role if that’s your recommendation. I only ask that any consequences fall solely on me and not on the rest of my team, who remained professional throughout.

Russ read it one more time, then hit Send.

And just like that, it was done. No fireworks, no clarity. Just a quiet, heavy sort of calm. He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy breath.

She meant something to him. She meant the worldto him, in fact. Enough to risk this. Enough to face his indiscretion.

He stared out the small porthole into the dark horizon, then reached for his phone.

Chapter

Nineteen

Russ steppedout onto the aft deck with his phone in hand, the stars spread wide overhead, the water glassy and still. The only sound now was the low hum of the anchor line and the occasional creak of the boat’s rigging settling into the night.

He stared at the contact on his screen for a moment.

Walker, George.

He hadn’t said a word back on the beach. He’d just watched Russ return with Tessa, his face unreadable, then later joined the rest of the crew at the bar tables like nothing had happened.

Russ had nodded once. Walker had turned his back on him.

Now Russ swiped the call button.

The phone rang once. Twice. Then?—

“Yeah,” came the gruff voice. “Callen?”

“Hey, Cap,” Russ said, voice low, keeping his tone respectful. “Sorry to call so late. I figuredyou were still up.” Walker’s boat was anchored about five-hundred yards away, in the same cove as his.

“I am. These end-of-the-week parties last all night, sometimes. I swear…” A long sigh came over the phone.

A brief pause followed, filled only by the sound of the ocean between them.

“I sent an email to the boss tonight,” Russ said. “Told him everything. That it was me. That I take full responsibility and that the crew had nothing to do with it.”

Walker didn’t answer right away. Russ let the silence stretch, knowing he had to let the older man absorb it.

“I wasn’t planning on breaking protocol,” Russ added. “Didn’t plan on any of it, actually. But it happened. I tried to keep things separate, clean, quiet. Didn’t quite manage.”

Another beat of silence, and then Walker’s voice came through, quieter this time.

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