8. Shut in
SHUT IN
ROSALIND
“ D on’t close the hatch all the way, okay?”
I pointed at the deck hatch below. “It sticks, and sometimes I struggle to open it. The latch is kind of weird.”
Lars nodded, consumed by rigging the switches. Our ship was a little wonky and well-loved. It was older than my oldest brother but a hearty little bugger. I loved the wood hull and the beautiful construction on every surface. It looked different to the newer ships with their clean, white lines and few hints of cherry wood. The Lauder had grace and character that few ships could match.
“I can fix the latch,” Lars said. “After this.”
“Okay,” I said. “You don’t have to. I told my Dad about fifty times to fix it. Mac said he would, but he got distracted by Mary’s constant badgering.”
Lars stifled a laugh.
“Mary is..”
“A funsuck? Tell me about it. She’s my sister-in-law. That’s why she and Iona get on so well. She’s a headcase. And I know, I know. She had cancer. It was awful. I felt all the sympathy in the world. It’s the way she constantly snipes at Mac that bothers me.”
Lars turned, looking from where he sat. He wiped his brow. We were sweaty. This humidity did not suit our northern blood.
“I get it. When they wed, Keir and I were… we weren’t quite sure what that was about. I know he loves her to bits and is loyal to a fault, but I also struggle with her. All she does is pick fights with his mates.”
“Exactly! I mean, you’ve barely seen him, right? And he’s your friend!”
“I’ve seen much more of Niall. Yes. Mac and I have been friends for a long time. It’s hard to believe we’ve grown so far apart. He was Keir’s best mate growing up. Now? They’re not that close anymore. Mac is a good bloke. Mary can be… complicated.”
It was the understatement of a century.
I changed the subject. “Do you need any water or anything?”
“Sure.”
I stood from my perch on the couch, where I wrapped my wire lettering.
“No,” Lars said. “I’ll go get some.”
“Do you know where things are?”
“I’ve been on this ship since I was in diapers. I’ll find a glass,” Lars said. “So many happy memories here running about with your brothers.”
I smiled. “I love her. She’s such a wonderful ship. I only wish I wasn’t exiled here alone. The AC doesn’t work well. She needs a bit of work. Since Keir bought his new cruiser, both boys have just wanted to zip around with him.”
“It’s a blast. I am very jealous.” Lars stood, using his shirt hem to wipe his face.
His plenty-fit abs were on full display for the long duration of his brow-wipe. I didn’t mind it. The view was fine. I was a little shallow with men. I preferred them hot, but I much preferred a brain to all else. In a way, Lars was the type I wished I’d go for. He wasn’t aggro enough for me, but he was fit and nerdy. I realised I should try to let my view of possessiveness as a virtue go. While it was hot in the bedroom, it led to disaster. I didn’t want a man to own me.
He dropped his shirt and stared, realising I’d been gazing at him as a thirst trap. I dropped my eyes and flushed bright red. I didn’t want him to know I’d been looking, but I also couldn’t help myself.
“Gonna… go get that water,” Lars said.
“Sure,” I said.
I sat, thinking about how awkward I’d made it. What did I even say to alleviate it?
Yes, Lars, I was drooling over your abs, but I swear it’s nothing at all. Just ignore me.
Or maybe I could make it even worse.
Yes, I noticed you were fit and wouldn’t throw you out of my bed if you wanted to take a rebound roll in the hay, but we can just be friends.
I didn’t even know where the impulse came from other than I was horny, had been without a single vibrator for months, and wanted to climb any fit man within fifteen feet like a tree. I’d debated hate-fucking Callan a dozen times in the past two weeks, if only to ease my persistent horniness. Thankfully, whenever I contemplated it, I’d text my sister Frankie, and she’d give me a talking-to.
Down girl .
Lars took forever, so I worried he’d gotten lost or, worse, shut the door too hard. I went to join him and found him choking down a massive glass of water, once more wiping his brow. Fuck. Me.
“I… wasn’t sure if you’d found it,” I stammered. “And… you did.”
“Yes,” he said, taking a break. “Sorry. I’m a mess. It’s so fucking hot.”
“Right? It is lovely in the sun, but the heat gets you.”
“I’m going to grab something, and we can work on your laptop.” Lars nodded to my computer, which rested on the kitchen table off the galley.
“Sure,” I agreed.
I needed to get it together.
Lars returned with a USB key. “If you plug this in, you can work while I do the rest.”
I took the key, “Oh, okay.”
“It’s a Bluetooth dongle.”
“A dongle,” I giggled. “Yes, of course.”
Lars rolled his eyes. “Yes, a dongle. You can work on the beats now, and then we can test it—probably in an hour.”
“Before you sweat some more, do you want me to grab food? We could eat dinner at least,” I offered. “I can just call in an order at the yacht club and pick it up?”
“I will take you up on that offer.”
Another dab. Did he know he was doing it? Did Lars understand what it did to me ? Maybe he wouldn’t honestly mind a little early evening shag?
“I have a menu, but it’s above deck,” I said. “I stashed it up there when I ordered breakfast?—”
I proceeded to the steps up and saw the door shut. Panic set in. I jiggled the handle, pulled on it, and called out, “Uh, Lars, did you close the door completely?”
Lars replied, “Since the AC was on.”
“Lars, it sticks. It’s stuck.”
Panicked, his face came into view. We were stuck.