Chapter Eighteen

Perry

I wake to the sound of seagulls cawing overhead. Shifting a bit with a groan, I'm instantly aware of something warm and soft underneath my head and shoulders. Something brushes against the very top of my head.

I blink my eyes open and look down to see my body covered with one of the emergency thermal blankets I keep locked in one of the benches. I'm lying in the center of the boat deck, looking up at a clear blue sky and inhaling the familiar scent of the harbor.

The plush warmth beneath me stirs, and I still, eyes widening. Slowly, I begin to remember what happened to put me in this position. Lola and I went to the island, and we headed back but got caught in a storm…

"Perry?" Her sleep-roughened voice rumbles beneath me, making me very aware of what's going on. I'm sleeping with my head in her lap. No doubt if I leaned back far enough, I'd be staring into her bright green irises.

Nope. Not doing that.

I'd try to pretend like I'm still sleeping, but she's already felt me move and can probably hear how my breaths have quickened. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" She shifts again, and it feels like she's sitting a little taller. I'm hyper aware of every movement she makes, whether I want to be or not.

I clear my throat and attempt a response. "Yeah. I think."

"You fell and hit your head." Soft fingertips graze over a sore spot on my forehead. "Do you remember anything?"

She's making zero attempts to shove me off her lap, but I should move. I need to move. Otherwise, the slow, tantalizing way she's twining my hair in her fingers paired with how pillowy she feels beneath me will be etched on my psyche forever and I'll never be able to pretend I'm not attracted to her.

Closing my eyes, I shift to sit up and rub the spot on my head with a wince. "I remember slipping on the deck during the storm. And…" More comes back to me in waves. Me waking up in this exact same spot, squeezing Lola's hand, telling her she was…fetching? I want to groan at my idiocy. I must've hit my head harder than I thought.

I brave a glance at her and instantly regret it. Lola's blonde and pink hair is wild and mussed, her jean overalls wrinkled with one strap undone. It looks like black mascara is smudged under eyes, and her cheeks are chapped pink, probably from the bite of the wind.

"Your head hit the side of the bench, I think."

My eyes track to the spot she points to. "Yeah, you might be right." Flicking my gaze around the dock, the dock she obviously got us back to safely, I ask, "Did you have any trouble getting back to the harbor?"

A soft smile plays at the corners of her mouth. "No, actually. I prayed that I'd see those lights you mentioned, and after the rain died down a bit, they shone clear enough for me to get us back to the harbor."

Pride swells within me for no other reason than that she listened to my instructions. It's definitely not because I think she's amazing for manning my boat when I became incapacitated. Even though she is.

"And did you stay out here with me? All night?" With my head in your lap? I don't add that last part, but I want to.

"Uh, yeah. Guess so." Her eyes drop to her now fidgeting hands. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. Gosh, I feel so stupid. It's just that you asked me not to go, so I told myself I'd rest with you for a few minutes, but apparently, I fell asleep." Slowly, she meets my gaze again. "Do you have a headache? You should probably see a medic for the cut."

"No. No headache." Not a bad one, anyway.

She nods before looking across the harbor. I shouldn't keep staring at her like I'm counting the freckles above her pert nose or memorizing each flutter of her lashes, but I can't drag my eyes away because I am doing those things. She literally saved our lives last night only to get back here and make herself my pillow. She deserves more than a simple thank you.

I clear my throat while trying to find the right words. "You did great, Lola."

Green eyes flash my way as she tilts her head curiously. "I thought you'd be furious that I drove the boat back."

"Not at all. You took control when I couldn't. Your quick thinking got us back safely."

Again, that one side of her mouth curves in a flirty sort of way. "You might have jarred something loose up there when you fell." She motions to my head. "You're being awfully complimentary right now, Captain. If I didn't know better, I'd almost think you were trying to thank me."

My responding smile feels lopsided. Boyish. Wrong. But I can't contain it. Not when she's teasing me and looking so cute with her disheveled pink hair and pouty lips.

"I do have the ability to compliment others," I say as an uncharacteristic playfulness begins to build inside me. "In fact, I was just thinking about how pretty you look in the morning light."

Her lips part in surprise and her cheeks turn red. Emboldened by her reaction to such simple words, I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"How's that for a compliment?"

The smile slips from Lola's lips as her eyes search mine. "It was nice. And…it felt like you meant it."

"I did mean it." My admission comes automatically. I could say more nice things to her, give her a glimpse into my brain and tell her all the ways I admire her, despite how infuriating she can be. As if we're connected by a line, we slowly buoy toward each other. Tension crackles between us, powerful and blinding.

Then I hesitate, remembering that she's not here to stay. Her job is temporary, and so that's all we can ever be to each other. And…I don't do temporary.

I swallow and lean back, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. Her beauty and charisma are enough to draw me in and make me want to love her, but I can't love someone who will leave me again. I won't.

Bertie's nails click against the fiberglass, followed by her gruff pants. She jumps in my lap, pressing her paws against my chest. "Good morning, girl," I croon and kiss her furry head.

Lola reaches out to pet Bertie too, and it's then I realize our sweet moment of flirtation is gone. I fumble to my knees and push to my feet. "Well, I'd better button her up and let my clients know there wasn't a catch this morning."

I'm met with silence as I slip down into the cabin and pretend to do something important. I can't face Lola after that heated moment where I stupidly thought I could be charming.

Lola's low murmur and the tip tap of Bertie's nails on the fiberglass up top tell me the woman who rescued me is likely saying goodbye to my dog. If I'm lucky, she'll leave without questioning why I went from grateful to awkwardly flirty, then bolted.

"You'll see a medic, right?" I look up to see Lola peering down at me from the top of the ladder.

"Yes." Our eyes hold for a beat too long until she finally nods.

"Okay. Then I guess I'll see you around."

A grunt is my only response before I duck down to check the gauges on the wall behind the ladder. Thankfully, she takes the hint and leaves. Even if I hadn't seen the obvious hurt and confusion in her eyes just before she left, the hard slap of her sandals on the gangway would be proof enough of her irritation.

But it's better this way. For me and for her. In time, I have no doubt she'll see that too.