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Lacey does one of her patented eye rolls. “Great. Now the boat will probably sink from the extra weight.”
I glare back at her. “Doesn’t matter. The suitcases are waterproof. My stuff will stay dry even if we do sink.”
“Ah, perhaps this isn’t the best talk before we say goodbye,” Mrs. Wakefield says nervously.
I turn and give her a quick smile. “Sorry. I’m sure we’ll be fine. We’re in your son’s capable hands.”
The last part wasn’t sarcastic, but even so, I can hear Tai scoff.
And so the goodbyes commence.
I have to admit, I’m tearing up as I say goodbye to my parents. It’s not that I don’t think I’ll see them again, of course I will, but I haven’t had this much quality time with them since…well, ever. Even when I’ve come home for Christmas and Easter, it feels like a formality. Like something I’m supposed to do, and I’ve always gotten the impression that they’ve felt the same way. Like God is ordering them to have me over, rather than me being someone they want to see.
And these last few days have been about getting to know these new versions of my parents, as an adult, the versions that they become when they aren’t at home, surrounded by a million damn apples.
Then it’s time for us to set sail.
The cockpit is rather small but there’s enough space for all of us, with Tai behind the wheel. The lines are tossed, Richard running around and putting them all in their proper places, and the motor is turned on to a hearty purr, and then we’re pulling away from the dock.
The small crowd of our loved ones on the dock wave at us and we wave back as the boat makes its way out of the small bay and into the harbor.
It’s bittersweet and exciting all at the same time. There’s something so invigorating about being on the water in the early morning hours, the breeze in your hair, setting sail for a far-off land.
“Should I do anything?” I ask no one in particular as the boat sloshes through the water.
“Stay out of the way,” Tai says.
I put my hand on my hip and give him a look.
Okay, so there’s no denying that this view of him is making my ovaries explode. I never knew I could be attracted to sailors, especially since they tend to be preppy types.
But Tai is the opposite of preppy. He’s more pirate than anything.
Sure, he’s in worn jeans and a grey t-shirt with a grease stain on it, what seems to be his standard uniform, and he’s got a ball cap on and a pair of aviator sunglasses hooked on the collar of his shirt. But it’s the way his big, roughed-up hands handle the steering wheel, the commanding stance he’s taking, the way his eyes are raking over the water in front of us, all of it equals some new level of kink I never knew was in me. First it was him eating an apple, now it’s him being a big boss pirate daddy commandeering a ship.
Then his eyes meet mine and I expect to see a hint of a smile in them.
I smile, anyway.
He doesn’t smile back.
“I meant what I said,” he says, his voice on edge. “Just stay out of the way.”
I blink. Wow.
He’s a mean pirate.
I narrow my eyes at him for a moment before tossing my hair over my shoulder and turning around.
I’m immediately reminded of how small this boat is and that Lacey and Richard both heard what he just told me.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and try to put your suitcases out of the way?” Lacey suggests, another attempt to get me pushed aside.
“But don’t put them in either fore or aft cabin,” Tai says, then pauses. “That means front and back.”
“I know what they mean,” I snipe at him. “I’m not an idiot.”
I’m just waiting for one of them to laugh at that, but to their credit, they don’t. It’s way too early to be starting off on the wrong foot.
And to think, you have ten more days of this.
Shit.
“Come on,” Lacey says. She goes to the hatch and pushes it back, walking backward down the stairs and into the belly of the beast.
I follow.
And I’m impressed.
Somehow the boat doesn’t seem as small down below. While up top felt a little cramped, I guess how the cockpit is set up a little forward on the boat, down here it feels more open, and everything is made of this gorgeous teak wood. This boat should be in a museum.
“Wow, this is nice,” I say. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
There’s a kitchen, or galley as they say, to the right of me, a navigation table and seat to the left. In front of me there’s the lounge area with two small couches and a table, and beyond that there’s a glimpse of the cabin at the front. There are Maori masks with paua shell eyes on the walls, along with a few of Tai’s personal touches that give it this lived-in feel.
