Chapter 14 #3
A jolt of panic shoots through my spine like I’m a teenager caught with a cigarette. I whorl to face Caleb and practically fall out of the captain’s chair.
“I was just looking… checking out the, uh—“
I step backwards and my butt bumps into a button on the instrument panel. Three little beeps trill behind me and Caleb lunges forward. I jump out of his way.
“Oh god,” I say, “I’m so sorry! Did I mess something up?”
He presses something on the screen and the beeping stops. What if I just sent the ship into self-destruct mode? Now he’s really going to hate me.
Caleb turns around, squaring his hips to face me for the first time since our horrific encounter in the elevator.
“Sorry to be the one to tell you this, Stella, but you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that if you want to sink this ship.”
My heart is pounding with equal parts panic and humiliation. I was so caught up with the Jules drama, I almost forgot how royally I messed up with Caleb. How doable it would be to hide under my King-sized bed for the remainder of the trip? Would Gia and Allie deliver me food?
“Look, Stella…” he starts, at the exact same time as I say, “We should—"
“We don’t have to talk about it,” I say rapidly. “Whatever that was earlier was a mistake. A temporary brain aneurysm. It could have happened to anyone.”
“Right. A mistake,” he says, voice lowering. “You’d be surprised how often women fall into my mouth in elevators.”
I feel my cheeks reddening. Is it possible for your whole body to blush?
“This isn’t funny,” I scold him. “Did you even think about what would happen if we got caught?”
“Honestly, Stella, I don’t remember a lot of thinking on either of our parts.”
I’m instantly transported back to the scene of the crime, where I practically threw myself at him.
For what may have been the first time in my adult life, I was totally impulsive in that elevator.
No thought for consequences; only the blinding desire to have my body pressed up to his.
One that I’m going to have to shove down deeper than the Marianas Trench if I’m going to survive this next week on board with him.
“I know this may come as a shock to you, Caleb, but I’m not here for a hookup. I’m here for my sister,” I remind him sternly. “The last thing I want to do is compromise her chances at happiness.”
And I still mean it. Even if she was a complete jerk tonight.
“You don’t have to convince me,” he says. “That absolutely cannot happen again. Do you think I want to lose my job?”
“There are few things on this planet I know less about than what you want, Caleb,” I growl. But even though I mean it as a jab, it comes out in a sort of breathy purr that makes both of us tense up. We both stand frozen for a few seconds, avoiding eye contact.
“Let’s just agree to pretend this never happened, alright?” he finally says. “Clearly we’re both under a lot of pressure right now.”
“Should be easy enough for you,” I say playfully. “You’ve had plenty of practice pretending not to know who I am.”
He raises his eyebrows, and I don’t think I’m imagining it when he leans forward, just a little.
“Well, you might want to keep your eyes to yourself,” he warns playfully. “Even bat-blind Arthur can see you ogling me on the aft deck.”
“Ogling?” I protest. “There has certainly been no ogling.”
“No? Because a little birdy told me you thought I was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen…”
I’m going to kill Jules. If she ever wants to speak to me again.
“I never said that,” I seethe.
“Please, Stella.” Caleb smirks, and my insides do that annoying treacherous thing where they feel like they’re going to combust. “You’re worse at lying than you are at kayaking.”
“Whatever I said is irrelevant,” I tell him. “From now on, we’re going to stay away from each other.”
I’m not sure if I imagine his voice catching when he says, “Fine by me.”
I stand frozen for a moment, not sure what comes next. What does it look like to have a mutually agreed upon, if ill-begotten, truce with Captain Conceited?
“So…” he says awkwardly, shifting to his other heel. “Should we start now?”
“Right!” I blink, taking a big step back and throwing my gaze to the floor. “Sorry.”
But as I’m gathering my things to go, I catch another glimpse of the blinking map behing Caleb.
“We’re pretty close to Narara island, right?” I ask him.
“Not too far—it’s about twelve miles north of here. Why?”
I pause, the seed of a hairbrained idea forming in my mind. The Warrens are decidedly out of touch in every sense of the word—with Jules and me, with the environment, and with most operative aspects of real life.
But maybe, instead of sitting on the moral high horse Jules is so sick of, there’s something I can do about that.
“No reason,” I say in as innocuous a tone as possible, “but I do have one more question.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
Caleb smiles slyly, and I shove down the flutter that blooms in my stomach.
“As a captain,” I start, “if you were dealing with a particularly difficult guest, what would your strategy be to… steer them in a more favorable direction? Hypothetically.”
When Caleb was still hot runner and I was still blissfully ignorant of the chaos about to ensue, he said something about feeling like a glorified babysitter.
Yet the Warrens treat him like some kind of superhero.
Maybe he has some insight on how to deal with them that I haven’t quite figured out yet.
“So, we’re talking about you, here?” he asks rogueishly.
I narrow my eyes at him.
“Very funny.”
Caleb furrows his brow, and for a moment, I don’t think he’s going to answer. But he takes one long stride towards me, nearly closing the distance between us, and lowers his voice.
“Hypothetically,” he says, “I’d never let them think I was criticizing or corralling them. I’d gently guide them towards the safest decision, while making them think it was their idea.”
“You wouldn’t kindly ask for what you wanted?” I ask, moving my eyes from the map to the stubble on Caleb’s chin. My fingers tingle imagining what it would feel like to run them across it.
He shakes his head.
“Or appeal to reason?” I ask.
“Especially not that.”
I nod, a (likely ill advised) plan taking shape.
Joanna’s Marine Conservation Center is the perfect excuse to expose the Warrens to something actually meaningful, and it’s right here.
If I can somehow get Arthur and Patricia to go to Narara, maybe, just maybe, I can get them to think about something other than themselves for a change.
Instead of judging them and whining about their behavior, I can actually do something about it. And, as an added bonus, put some physical distance between myself and Caleb.
“Caleb—"
“What’s crackin, all?” Jim’s familiar voice interrupts, and I practically jump out of my pajamas. He sidles up beside us carrying a tub of what I assume are walkies in need of repair.
“Stella, you’re up late! Captain showing you how to handle his rig?”
I try to smile, but pretty sure the expression on my face is closer to that of a preschooler in her first-grade picture. Smooth. Just please don’t let Jim make any more references to Caleb’s “rig”…
“I was just showing her some maps—“
“I was just leaving—”
Caleb and I declare unconvincingly at the same time. Jim looks back and forth between us, bushy eyebrows raised.
“I suddenly regret asking,” he says, dropping the tub onto one of the leather seats.
“Well, I’m off to bed,” I choke out mechanically, turning like a poorly-configured Roomba.
“Night!”
“Goodnight, Stella,” Caleb says.
That was too close, I think as I amble down the stairs.
What if Jim suspects something? What if Caleb tells Jim and Jim tells Harry and then Jules and I are used as chum on his dad’s next fishing expedition?
I take a few deep breaths and remind myself to chill.
Caleb has just as much to lose on this as I do.
And if I’m going to pull off mission impossible tomorrow, I’m going to need every ounce of focus I can get.
Let’s just hope the captain can hold up his end of the bargain.