Page 42 of Falling Overboard

The first was that the captain had been pretty clear about his rule and these two had just forced the rest of us to be their accomplices.

The second was that I was jealous as hell that I couldn’t kiss Lucky like that.

Someone closed the van door and we set off. I still wanted to know why she was trying to save up. “So is spending money the only reason you don’t like going out?”

“You know how other people have FOMO? Fear of missing out? I have the opposite. JOMO. Joy of missing out.”

That made me grin. I loved the way her mind worked.

And I definitely loved being pressed against her. She was so soft and warm.

And utterly distracting.

“I don’t know why people have to go to a bar to have fun,” she added. “Have they ever tried watching movies and eating ice cream with no pants on?”

“Most of my favorite activities don’t involve pants,” I said as seriously as I could. I was joking but also not joking.

She ignored it and answered my initial question. “But money is probably the biggest reason why.”

“You got six thousand dollars today,” I pointed out.

“Sometimes it can be feast or famine when it comes to tips. Most charters won’t be like the one we just had. The Carmines were very easy and pleasant.”

“So the tip wasn’t typical.” I hadn’t thought much about the tip, but it mattered to her and I was discovering that the things she thought were important had suddenly become important to me, too.

“It depends. Usually it ranges from about fifteen hundred to thirty-five hundred for a week. There are some that leave more. I worked with a girl on my last ship who earned her entire year’s salary in one tip from a three-week charter. But there are other guests who don’t leave tips at all.”

She still hadn’t told me why the money was important.

The stew I had decided was definitely Georgia called out, “We’re almost there!”

“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked.

“Paddy’s Pub. It’s an Irish pub.”

“We’re going to an Irish pub in a French beach town?”

“The drinks are cheaper, and there’s more locals and yacht crews than tourists. Plus, Thomas likes a girl who works there, Siobhan. He’s the one who made the call. And nobody else cares where we go as long as there’s liquor. Thomas keeps waxing poetic about the joys of pub crawls. I’ve asked if we can do a bakery crawl but nobody else wants to.”

I laughed. “This is our date, so you can choose whatever you want to do and I’ll happily go along with it.”

Whoops. I hadn’t meant to say that. There was just something about her that made me want to tease her relentlessly.

With my words and ... in other ways.

“Are we back to that?” she asked and had the cutest exasperated expression on her face. Instead of discouraging me, it made me want to do it more. “I don’t think it’s a date if there’s seven other people here.”

“We haven’t defined the relationship yet. You’re free to date five other guys at the same time if you want.”

I knew it wasn’t a date. But I wanted it to be.

We pulled up to the pub and we were the last two to get out. I stretched, as it had been very cramped back there, and then I offered her my hand to help her. I was pretty sure she was going to twist her ankles on the cobblestones in those ridiculous shoes.

She hesitated for a moment and then slid her hand in mine and I felt that touch everywhere. I loved the way our hands fit. I held on to hers for a moment longer than I needed to and then turned to shut the van door. She made me feel like I was fifteen again, getting overheated from just a hand touch. I pulled my shirt away from my body several times, trying to get some air circulating.

When I saw her noticing what I was doing, I attempted to come up with a believable excuse. “It is so hot. I don’t understand why people like summer so much.”

“I have a theory about that,” she said as we walked behind the rest of the group.

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