Chapter 3
3
B eck was surprised to see a girl standing in the salon. She'd turned up out of nowhere and said she'd find her way since he was on the phone.
Find her way?
He pulled his eyebrows together. "Who are you?" he asked. "No, not you," he said into the phone, taking hIs eyes off the girl for a second.
"Hang on, no, someone else. Yeah, I hear you." Beck was getting frustrated by the call because of the poor reception on their end. He put his hand over his phone and turned back to find out what she wanted. She wasn't there. "Where the hell have you gone?" he called out.
How could she disappear so fast? He went over to the stairs, but there was no sign of her. It was a skeleton crew today, with only a few aboard, so it would be easy for someone to wander around Intrepid without being seen. He'd have to get off this call and look for her. She appeared young, a bit scruffy, and he wondered if she was homeless. The last thing he needed was someone on board causing trouble.
The people he was talking to were getting excited and he needed to deal with them as well, "Fuck, look, I said what I think and you've got to handle it. I have to take care of a situation here and we have another phone call scheduled for 4 p.m. EST time–we can finalize it then. I'll be in touch later." Plus he had another call scheduled in twenty minutes.
Beck took the stairs, two at a time. He needed to find this girl and get her off Intrepid . She wasn't on the stern swimming platform, and how had she even gotten on the boat in the first place?
"Hey! Has anyone seen a girl on the boat?" He shouted but no one was within hearing distance.
Damn, he had to find her. He went down the stairs and heard sounds coming from the crew deck and walked into the kitchen. And there she was, eating a muffin like she didn't have a care in the world. He stormed up to her and she glanced up at him, not intimidated in the least.
He stared down at her, trying to decide what to say and to temper his anger. Her eyes, a most intriguing shade of amber, stared up at him. They threw him off a bit, unlike anything he'd ever seen, and he shifted his feet trying to remember what he was about to say. She continued to munch on the muffin and raised her eyebrows, sharp and defined, inquiring. He was at a loss for words, but his mind ran furiously. He couldn't fathom why she was so calm and stood there eating a muffin.
"Who the hell are you?" He demanded.
She finished the muffin and took a sip from a cup of water she had in her hand. This further aggravated him.
"I asked you what you're doing here. You can't just come on somebody's boat without permission. Do you not know that?"
He leaned into her, most people would shrink away from him, but not her. She remained steadfast and watched him. He could've sworn there was a slight smile curving her lips.
He stepped back. Was she making fun of him?
Who was this slip of a girl who looked no more than 18 or 19? Maybe she was homeless and he softened knowing what that was like. Still, stowing away on someone's boat was not right.
He looked her over. Maybe she was afraid to talk, but he doubted that by the confidence that she exuded. The big army bag was next to her feet, khaki pants rolled up to her calves, and toes painted a bright orange contrasted against the thin leather straps of her flat sandals.
Her bright red tank top was vivid against her deep tan and a sweater that had seen better days was pulled between the handles of the multicolored sack she'd slung around her neck. Beck was struck by the color of her hair, reminding him of the moon reflecting off the ocean in the dark of the night. It was bundled up on her head with wispy strands floating around her face.
It was her eyes though. Shades of amber. Vibrant and bright. Never had he seen anyone so perfect.
She still hadn't said a word and continued to look at him without an ounce of concern. What was she waiting for? Why didn't she speak?
He cleared his throat. "OK, so spill. What are you doing on the boat?"
She held her palms facing him. "Are you finished now? Your tirade over?"
Her voice trickled down his spine like liquid heat and settled in his hips. Holy shit. Beck stepped back, a deep sensation he hadn't felt before grew and unsettled him. He couldn't be attracted to this slip of a thing! He could be her father for fuck’s sake.
But he was attracted to her.
She delicately wiped the crumbs off her fingertips over the sink. Took one last sip of water, and washed both cup and plate, placing them on the drying rack. He watched her every move, so precise and perfect.
She turned and leaned her hip against the counter. Those eyes of hers bore deep into him, stealing away the words he was about to say.
His phone pinged and he grabbed it. "I have to take this. Don't you move."
He pointed at her and answered the phone. He did his best to hurry the call and turned to her when finished.
She was gone.