Page 73 of The Second Chance in the Mediterranean
“Please.”
Will turned his head to me. “See ya in the galley, Marce.”
He vanished in a flash and Seb sat down next to me on the floor. “Do you always have to scare my yoga buddy off?”
“He likes an excuse to leave.”
“One of these days I’ll be making you do yoga with me again.” Seb had tried it a few times while we were out at sea but declared it a bit too boring.
I rolled over, putting my head in his lap. “How was your watch?”
“Good. Absolutely nothing to report, just the way I like it.”
We had six crew members doing shifts and two of us for the interior. Will handled most of the stew responsibilities, mostly just making sure people cleaned up after themselves and didn’t make a total mess of the galley. I still handled the crew meals. Feeding the eight of us every day was easy, and in my spare time I was deep-cleaning the facilities and finding all kinds of interesting forgotten-but-still-good ingredients to use up.
“What’s our latest ETA?” I asked Seb.
He shifted next to me, sprawling out on the floor and closing his eyes. “Tomorrow around noon.”
“I can’t believe we’re coming back to Antigua, where we first met.”
I could hear the grin in Seb’s voice. “Sure, I remember you seeing me for the first time.”
“Ha.”
He propped himself up on an elbow. “I’m happy to re-create it tonight. If you walk into the cabin at exactly”—he looked at his watch and frowned in mock concentration—“6:53 p.m., I’ll make sure to be stepping out of the shower”—he leaned toward my ear—“soaking wet, and well, it may not be an exact re-creation, because I’ll probably be hard just thinking about you walking in—”
I shoved him away from me with a laugh. His smile was wide and happy, his eyes dancing in mirth as he took in my blush.
* * *
I wasthe last one up on deck after breakfast the next morning. Most times I set out breakfast and people came and went as they pleased, but today was our last morning, so I took orders and made everyone a hot meal. Since we could now see the islands and the weather was sunny and beautiful, the crew was out on deck, dining alfresco.
As I climbed the stairs, I juggled my plate and my mug of coffee and battled with the desire to look up.Themiswas in all her glory, fully rigged and moving at a fast clip. We were sailing so well, we’d be getting in earlier than expected.
Seb spotted me and pulled out a chair next to him. As soon as my plate was down, my eyes snapped around, taking it all in. To our port side was Antigua, the island rocky and green. We were just a few kilometers away, having made our turn and sailing down the west coast of the island.
I spun around. On our starboard was Montserrat, and as I looked out beyond her, towardThemis’s stern, I saw St. Martin.
Seb squeezed my thigh when I sat down. “Almost there.”
“Did you ever go to Montserrat?”
He shook his head.
Dom spoke up from across the table. “I haven’t been, but it doesn’t have a very good harbor. No docks, certainly not big enough for us anyway.”
“I’ve been,” Gio announced. “It’s an active volcano. Pretty rugged, a hell of a hike.”
“Did you like it?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Cute town, small as hell and not much to see.”
“Hey, Marce,” Seb interrupted. “That must be Jolly Harbour, where we were anchored last year.”
Sure enough, we could see all the sailboats anchored, and even a big superyacht. We glanced at each other and burst out laughing. “NotOdyssey,thank God.”
“No, but it looks pretty similar. I was almost scared for a minute.”
