9. Sail

sail

. . .

T he sun rises over the harbor, not that anyone could see the sun. The thick gray clouds screamed doom and gloom. Fishing vessels motor out of the marina and head toward the ocean. All determined to bring in as much as they could before high winds brought them back to land. Sail looked at the sky and frowned. It was going to rain. It was just a matter of time when the storm would roll in.

After sighing, he walked toward the diner. Last night, he’d asked Galvin to go get a drink with him, only to be shot down. Shot down was probably harsh, but still she told him no. Not many told him no and it caught him off guard. He didn’t have a handy retort for the rejection and stood there in the courtyard looking at her apartment door, expecting her to return and tell him she was joking.

She hadn’t.

He’d met his brothers outside and endured relentless teasing about the schoolboy crush he had on the new waitress. Most of the ribbing came from Tidal and Crew. Dune was far to mature—and annoyed—to engage with his brothers.

Sail opened the door to the diner minutes after his cousin Penny unlocked the door. The bell chimed and he called out. “It’s just me, Penny.”

Only, it wasn’t Penny who came out of the kitchen, it was Galvin. She yawned as their gazes met and she quickly closed her mouth.

Galvin looked tired, but gorgeous. Sail, in fact, had a crush on her. Even though he knew he should stay far away from her. Someone like her didn’t need the baggage he came with.

“Morning,” he said as he sat down at the counter. “I didn’t expect to see you here this morning.” He’d hoped though, which was why he was there instead of eating breakfast with his parents and brothers. Never mind, his father hadn’t looked at him much since he’d come clean about screwing up at school. The tension at home was his fault and the less time he spent there when everyone was awake was for the better.

“Do you ever eat at home?”

Her question caught him off guard. Was she sick of seeing him? He hoped not and nodded slowly. “Yes. My mom is a very good cook.” Sail had no idea why he offered the last bit of information.

“Do you cook?”

Sail started to shake his head but stopped. “I can cook, but I don’t. I lived in a frat house, and no one really cooks. We just fend for ourselves or eat at one of the places on campus.”

She eyed him. Was she suspicious of him? Or just tired.

Tired, definitely.

“Coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

“Do you mind if I have some?” Galvin poured herself a cup, added cream, sugar, and took a drink. Sail stared, watching her close her eyes as the warm liquid trailed down her throat. He was jealous of the coffee and the mug she held tightly between her hands.

Galvin took another sip, set the mug down, and cleared her throat. “Do you need a menu?”

“Nah,” Sail said, shaking his head. “I know what I want.”

Galvin pulled the pad from the of her apron and motioned for him to order.

“Three eggs, over easy. Sausage and bacon.”

“Home fries?”

“No thanks. I’m working later and trying to make it to lunch. If I eat carbs, I want to eat again in two hours. If I’m out on a tour, it doesn’t look too good if the guide is stuffing his face with the snacks meant for the guests.”

“Okay.”

Galvin didn’t entertain his reasoning. She ripped the chit from the pad and stuck it on the wheel for the cook, and then left Sail to sit there. Instead of asking her for a Coke, he got up, went around the counter, and got his own.

“What are you doing?” Galvin ran back to where he was. She took the glass from him and finished filling it. “Please go sit.”

Before he turned away, he saw her wipe at her face.

“Hey,” Sail said softly, trying to get her attention. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you please go sit?”

He did as she asked but was confused. His family owned the restaurant. Surely, she knew he was allowed to go behind the counter and help himself. Sail didn’t get a chance to explain himself—if that was the issue—because she refused to look at him.

Sail counted the seconds until the line cook yelled, “Order up.”

Galvin added the necessary garnishes and carried Sail’s plate to him.

“Hey,” he said as his hand held her wrist. Their eyes met. He told himself if she flinched or moved in the slightest, he’d let go. But right now, he enjoyed the way his fingers felt against her skin. Mostly, he could feel her pulse increase.

Slowly, her eyes met his. Her eyelids fluttered, but her orbs screamed torment. Sail gently let go of her wrist, but left his hand near hers, enjoying the pull he felt toward her. “What’s wrong?”

Galvin swallowed hard. “I need this job,” she said in a hushed tone.

“And you think I’m somehow jeopardizing it by getting my own drink?”

She nodded and her eyes shifted away. Sail considered pulling her chin toward him but resisted. As much as he loved flirting with her, he wasn’t about to make her uncomfortable.

“Look, no one is going to get into trouble if I get my own drink. My parents aren’t those kinds of people. But if it makes you more comfortable with me being here, I won’t do it again.” Sail tilted his head, hoping to catch her gaze.

He did.

She smiled shyly and gave him the tiniest of head nods.

“Now that we have that settled, why are you working this early ass shift?”

“Penny had an appointment this morning and asked if I could open for her.”

“You must be tired.”

Galvin shrugged. “I’ll take all the extra shifts I can get right now.”

Sail wanted to continue their chat while he ate but the chime over the door sounded, and the morning rush began. He finished his breakfast, left enough money to cover the bill and a generous tip, and headed to work. As he passed by Galvin on her way out, he said, “I’ll see you later,” and subtly touched her hip with his fingers.

Spencer “Speed” Albright, nicknamed for his on the water antics when it came to this jet-ski, and Arthur Wilson, who went by Wilson and preferred the one named moniker above all else, were already on the tour boat when Sail arrived at work. Both men were long time employees of Blue Lobster Adventures, and best friends to Sail’s older brother, Dune.

Ana, who worked the ticket booth, followed him down the dock, rattling off how many tours they had booked for the day. Sail grumbled as he looked at the sky and shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to be caught in a rainstorm and he felt deep in his bones it was bound to happen.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked as he boarded.

“Boss says so,” Speed said while Wilson mumbled the same sentiments Sail felt.

“I’ll watch the radar,” Ana added. “If the storm moves in faster than predicted, I’ll radio and let you know to head back.”

“Dune will be pissed,” Speed said. “He hates losing money.”

Sail pointed to the sky. “People hate being on the water when it’s storming. There’s nothing worse than people panicking while we’re in the middle of the ocean.”

“I do love me a good hurricane,” Wilson said. Sail was about to call him out on the bullshit statement but remembered that a hurricane in Seaport was nothing like one in Miami. Down south, they were devastating. Ruining homes, businesses, and livelihoods. Sail loved being in Miami because it was always warm, and he could sail whenever he wanted. But when it was storm season, he had to pay attention to everything. One wind shift, and he could easily be washed out to see.

They got to work, making sure the bar was stocked, all the life jackets were accounted for, and the bathroom cleaned. The wind picked up first, giving Sail anxiety. He continuously checked the weather app for updates, but everything remained green.

When he reluctantly told Ana to go ahead and open, the first drop of rain fell, and then the next. Sail sighed and they all took cover under the enclosed awning. Thankfully, the boat was moored and not moving much, especially since Ana got seasick.

“Is there an umbrella in here?” Sail asked as he began rummaging through the small closet.

“No, I don’t think so,” Speed said.

“Although, with Caroline working here, there might be.”

Caroline Taylor was Dune’s pregnant fiancée. They had yet to meet, as she was in New York working with an interior designer on the house Dune intended to build for them. According to their mother, Sail was going to love Caroline. Honestly, he wanted to bow down to the woman who tamed his big brother and figured he’d like her no matter what. Especially since she was going to make him an uncle.

An uncle with strict rules according to Dune. With number one being: no drinking around my kid.

Joke’s on everyone because Sail hadn’t had a drink since Dean Holmes booted his ass from school.

Sail pulled his phone out, launched the weather app, and watched the storm move over the map. The worst hadn’t even hit yet. “I think we book it out of here,” he said to the three of them. “Lock her up and head for some shelter.”

“You’re the boss,” Wilson said, even though Sail wasn’t. He’d take as much flak from Dune as any of them, but there was no point in waiting the storm out on the boat when they could be elsewhere.

Sail slipped out of his hoodie and handed it to Ana to use as an umbrella. The four of them stepped out and while Ana ran toward the ticket booth, Sail, Wilson, and Speed made sure everything was tied down and zipped up. Then they ran, ignoring the no running on the dock sign.

Wilson and Speed headed for their cars, while Sail went into the ticket booth to help Ana close and make phone calls. If the storm passed, they’d open up, but as of now they were going to suspend all tours. Customers were given a chance to get a refund or rebook. Being that it was early in the week, most rebooked.

“Have you met Galvin yet?” Sail asked Ana after they made their last round of calls.

“No. Is she your girlfriend?”

The idea made Sail smile. He ducked his head to hide his grin from Ana. “No, she’s new to town. Works at the diner.”

“Really? She must not work when I’m there.”

“She’s nice.”

“Okay?”

Sail took a deep inhale. “I’m wondering if maybe you don’t go introduce yourself. Like I said, she’s new to town and I don’t think she’s actually met anyone, aside from my family.”

“Are you suggesting I befriend your paramour?”

“Paramore? Isn’t that a band?”

Ana rolled her eyes. “Para-m-o-u-r,” she said, spelling it out for him. “It’s French for lover.”

“She’s not my lover.”

“Yet.”

“Ever.” He hated making such a bold statement. “She’s made it very clear she’s here to work and doesn’t have the time for the likes of me.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know you the way the rest of us do.”

Sail scoffed. “I’m sure she’s heard the rumors.”

“What? That you’re a good guy? A decent man?”

Sail frowned and shook his head. “That I’m a loser who got booted from college for drinking.”

“But you’re not that guy, Sail.”

“At least I’m not trying to be,” he said to her. “I don’t know . . .” Sail paused and shook his head. “From the second I laid eyes on her I told myself I have something to prove.”

“Why not be yourself?”

“Because I don’t know who I am right now,” he said with a shrug. He supposed he had time to figure all that out since he couldn’t return to school until January.