Page 40 of Falling Overboard

“What happened with the captain?” I asked, closing the cabin door behind me.

“He whisper-yelled a pretty impressive number of profanities at me and then told me to never do something like that again.”

The relief was instant and overwhelming. He still had his job.

Hunter shook his head. “I don’t even know what happened. I was ready and then I got distracted and next thing I knew the ship was hitting the dock. I feel like such a tool.”

“I thought he was going to fire you.”

“Me too.” He looked very, very worried.

It made me wonder why he needed this job. Everyone on board had their own reasons for agreeing to work these ludicrous hours and do the constant, extreme physical labor. Like Georgia, who supported her elderly grandmother’s nursing home costs by herself.

Money was usually the primary reason.

“I can’t be distracted like that again,” he said.

“You can’t,” I agreed. “Distractions are dangerous in yachting.”

He was silent for a moment, his face somber, and he said, “I’m learning that the hard way.”

So was I.

Hunter had hogged the bathroom, so I was running a bit behind in getting ready for the crew’s evening out. I ran upstairs in my bare feet, carrying the high heels I planned on wearing. I only had a couple of dresses appropriate for a night on the town and tonight I’d worn the black one.

When I got to the deck, almost everyone was there. The first thing I noticed was that Hunter was whispering something in Emilie’s ear and she was giggling. She sat so close to him that she was practically in his lap.

He’s a flirt,I reminded my disappointed gut.You knew that.This was a natural state of being for him.

I had to get over this attraction I felt for him and find a way to just be his friend. It could work. I liked hanging out with him. I would have to make some internal boundaries so that I could keep myself on the right side of propriety.

Kissing him could only lead to disaster. Not only for my job but for our friendship. Because the last time I’d let myself fall for someone, it had destroyed me. I didn’t want that to happen again. Hunter didn’t seem anything like my ex, but I knew that appearances could be deceiving.

It didn’t matter how hot and sweet and funny Hunter was. I couldn’t imagine myself ever being in the market for a boyfriend again. My heart had been destroyed too many times already.

Everyone was pregaming, as the Carmines had left a large amount of expensive champagne behind and yachties were notorious for not letting a single drop of liquor ever go to waste.

Georgia handed me a flute. “Lucky! Are you actually coming out with us?”

“Yes.” I took a small sip.

“Does that mean the apocalypse is nigh? Should I be praying and going to church to save my soul before it happens?”

“Youshould probably be doing that anyways, apocalypse or no,” I teased her and she grinned at me.

“Who are we waiting on?” she asked. “I’m usually the last one.”

I glanced around to see who was missing. “François.”

“Did someone say my name?” the first mate asked as he walked out of the main salon.

“Yes, we were complaining about you taking so long,” Georgia informed him.

“This beauty does not happen naturally.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I have to be on the same boat as him. I need to drown my sorrows. I am going to get so dehydrated tonight.” Then she turned and loudly said, “Let’s go!”

A large van was waiting for us. When I got to the dock, I attempted to put my shoes on and cursed myself for picking ones with ankle straps.

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