Page 37 of Falling Overboard

Hunter and I were, for lack of a better term, two ships passing in the night. He would have been so proud.

Over the rest of the week, I found myself often wondering whether or not Hunter and Georgia were taking advantage of all those quiet late nights together. Those thoughts caused a pang of jealousy so deep and so sharp that it surprised me. In former relationships I’d never been the jealous type, even when I’d had reason to be.

Which was a pretty big indication to me that this new schedule was for the best. I had dreams, a plan, and I needed to be working toward that. To help get us the biggest tip possible.

I shouldn’t have been thinking about Hunter.

He didn’t help matters, though. He made an effort to find me and spend time with me during my dinner breaks. Those breaks were never consistent—my routine was based entirely on the guests’ wants and needs—but every time I had the chance to grab myself a bite to eat, he was there. Asking me about my day, how things were going, telling me what he had been working on. He always sat next to me and pretty much ignored the rest of the crew.

Our conversations were superficial, surface level, but I still enjoyed talking to him. The puns he’d throw my way. The way he would tease me.

I told myself it was a coincidence that we ate dinner at the same time, but deep down I knew it couldn’t be.

Then I went and broke the superficial rule. “What do you and Georgia do when you’re up late together?” I found myself asking.

“Work.”

“What kind of work?”

“The kind on the lists that you and Thomas leave for us to do.” He studied me for a moment and then asked, “Lucky Salerno, are you jealous?”

“What?” I quickly responded, hoping my cheeks weren’t currently betraying me. “No! Why would you think that?”

“My mom always says if it walks and quacks, it’s a duck.”

I was very much a duck but didn’t tell him that.

And if the dinner conversations weren’t distracting enough, I found that him just existing was enough to send me into overdrive. I would wake up early in the morning, hurrying to turn off my alarm so that it wouldn’t bother him. When I stood up I always stole a glance at him. His hair tousled, his face relaxed, his marvelous torso on display, and more times than I could count I had taken a very cold shower and stood in the stream until my heart calmed back down. The shock of that water on my heated skin was the best solution I’d found so far.

Hunter Smith was the very definition of the wordtemptation.

Drop-off day came quickly. We were heading to the harbor at Saint-Tropez. During our midmorning snack half of the crew decided to go out that night to Paddy’s Pub on the marina. We wouldn’t pick up another charter for a couple of days, so this was their chance to party.

I intended to celebrate the end of this charter by staying in my cabin and eating chocolate while watching a movie.

Captain Carl came in the room and we all fell silent, but he’d obviously overheard us. “You’re intending to go out tonight as a group?”

Kai was the one who nodded and answered, “We are.”

“Good, good. Crew unity is important. It’s something I used to always tell Marika. You should be looking for ways to bring the crew together.” Now the captain was pointing his remarks specifically at me. I remembered Marika complaining about it on more than one occasion, but she’d never done anything to fulfill his request.

“I clean the boat and wait hand and foot on his guests. I don’t need to be the cruise director for the crew, too,” she had grumbled.

I straightened my shoulders, ready to do as he’d asked. I would find a way to make us more united. Organize some kind of team-building activity. Maybe tomorrow.

But it meant I would have to go out with the group tonight. I couldn’t make them run some obstacle course or climb a mountain if I wasn’t willing to go to a bar with them.

Hunter wasn’t there so I decided to find him and let him know about our plans. In part because I knew I’d be more likely to go if he was going, too.

That probably should have concerned me.

I could have called him over the radio but didn’t. I wanted to see him.

And I got my wish. He was in the garage with the water toys, shirt off, doing pull-ups on an overhead bar. It was a glorious sight, all those powerful muscles contracting and tightening. I could have set up a booth and sold tickets and raised all the money I needed for my bakery in a single day.

Realizing that I was currently bordering on stalkerish, I cleared my throat to let him know that I was there.

He hopped down and grabbed his shirt, putting it back on. “I know, I know. Shirts on during charter.”

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