Chapter 8 Sam
SAM
I wonder if I’m green. I feel green. The boat rocks gently, sloshing around the full Scottish I had for breakfast, and I fight the urge to rush to the side and empty my stomach into the dark water of the loch.
I can’t be the first and likely only person on this boat to puke. I’ll never live it down.
The kid, Maggi, isn’t helping all that much as she skips around, completely unfazed by the rocking.
I can hear her mom occasionally tell her to settle down or laugh, and I’m fairly certain it’s the one thing keeping me distracted enough from how I’m feeling.
If I make it through this ride without making a fool of myself, I’ll send her flowers or maybe cheese as a thank you.
The thought of cheese makes me gag into my fist instantly.
“You alright?” Dougie thumps me on the back as he sits heavily next to me.
I turn my head slowly to look at him, and his face says it all. I definitely look how I feel.
“So, no,” he states. “Do you want me to get you some water?” I shake my head and point at the half-empty bottle next to me. The thought of even consuming water right now sends my stomach rolling. “How ‘bout some tablet?” He chortles when I retch in response.
Dougie swears by the Scottish confection as if it were the antidote to whatever ails you. As someone who doesn’t enjoy overly sweet food, the thought of eating it right now is the last thing I want to be thinking of.
“Sam!” a little voice squeals as pink shoes appear on the ground in front of me.
“Maggi,” another hisses. The shoes disappear, and by the time I raise my head, I see Rosie, dragging her daughter away.
I wish I could say that seeing Rosie made me feel better, but looking up has the world tipping on its axis, and I drop my head into my hands and groan. This is a nightmare.
The worst part about this is the fact people are paying attention to me.
I liked attention when I was on the pitch.
I despise it for things like this. It’s not that I can’t be vulnerable.
I am fine with that. It’s having attention on me when it should be on others, in this case, Sarah and Colin.
Everyone should be focused on them, not on whether I’m about to pass out, puke, or tip into the loch while puking over the side.
“I can take him down to the captain’s quarters,” someone says softly.
Dougie shifts beside me. “You’ll need help keeping him balanced.” He stands and grabs my arm.
“Poor dear. They really should have some seasickness medication on board.”
“Not sure people get all that sick on the loch.” Dougie scoffs.
My eyes remain on my feet as I manage to shuffle along with Dougie and the woman but I can picture the way he’s looking at me. It’s definitely not with pity.
The stairs prove to be the worst part. Each step down, my knees threaten to give out on me, certainly not helped by the fact we have to travel down in single file, meaning my balance is nonexistent.
“If you want to tuck him away in here,” someone else says.
“I’ve put out a cold bottle of water, a cold cloth, and a few ginger chews.
Usually we’d suggest staying on deck with your attention on the horizon, but,” they pause, and I can feel too many eyes on me.
“Not sure he’d be able to keep his head up long enough for that to work. ”
They’re right.
Between the three of them, I’m lowered onto a small bed.
“There’s a bucket next to you, dear,” the woman says, and I feel the cool cloth being draped across my forehead. To my surprise, it's an instant relief.
“Is he okay?”
Fuck. Me.
My breath catches at the sound of her voice, momentarily replacing the nausea, with something far more pleasant.
“Dealing with a wee bit of seasickness.”
“I’ve got some Gravol in my purse.”
“Some, what?”
“It’s…” A hand settles on my cheek. “Sam, do you want some Gravol?”
I take a deep breath, trying to steady everything in my body. “Yes,” I manage to get out feebly.
Her hand leaves my face, and then I hear the crinkle of a package and the end of the bed dipping.
“Open,” she commands as her fingers tap my bottom lip, and I do as I’m told immediately.
Two tablets drop onto my tongue, and then the cool rim of the water bottle is resting on my lips, followed by water dribbling into my mouth.
I do my best to swallow it all, but seconds later water is trailing from the corner of my mouth, and before I can get myself together to deal with it, Rosie is. She’s in full-blown mom mode. This is not the way I fantasized about her being in my bed as I fell asleep last night.
I mumble a thank you, or at least I think I do.
It’s hard to tell what I’m actually doing versus what I’m saying at the moment, considering a lot of my energy is going into keeping myself from being sick.
But I do know that I’m aware of a light touch on my skin as I relax into the bed and fall asleep.
I can still feel a gentle rocking, but it’s not doing the same violent things to my insides as it had been earlier. I’m still hesitant to open my eyes. Movement somewhere nearby cancels out my hesitation, though, and my eyes snap open.
Rosie is sitting on the desk chair, a soft smile on her face as she reads the book propped open on her lap. I should close my eyes and then make a sound to announce that I’m awake. But I can’t seem to close them.
If she walked out of the forest behind my cottage, I’d be convinced that she was a figment of my imagination.
Bright red hair, blue eyes, and the kind of body that I know would feel right under my touch.
A baobhan sith1, here to lure me into the woods.
Sick or not, I’d follow without a second thought.
“Hey, Rosie.” The private nickname slips out, and my heart stutters to a stop. I expect to see her look up in confusion. But when those blue eyes land on me, I see only warmth.
Her lips curl in a smile as she stands and approaches me. Without a word she removes the cloth that is still on my forehead and rests the back of her hand where it had been. It takes a monumental amount of control not to lean into her touch.
“How are you feeling?” she asks quietly.
Truthfully, I’m groggy, but I don’t feel nearly as nauseated as I had earlier, which means the Gravol did its job.
“Better,” I croak.
“Do you want to try sitting up?” She drops her hand to my shoulder when I nod and uses it to steady me as I push myself up slowly. “Water?”
“Please.” I nod, leaning back against the wall for support and taking a slow breath, trying to calm my heart now that it has started to beat again.
She hands me the bottle, not bothering to try and do it for me. “I’m guessing you don’t spend much time on boats,” she says, sitting on the edge of the chair.
I shake my head slowly as I swallow another gulp, appreciating the cool liquid as it slides down my throat. “Spend the majority of my time on solid land.”
“Guess it’s a good thing the rest of the planned activities don’t involve water.” She stands, and I can’t seem to look away as she stretches her arms behind herself.
I could get lost easily in the curve of her waist or the swell of her breasts. For now, though, I’ll have to get lost for a while physically since she definitely caught me looking. I feel like a piece of shit when she looks away to gather her bag and moves toward the door.
“We should go. We’ve been docked for an hour.” She offers me a tight smile before disappearing out the door.
My head thumps against the wall as her retreating steps tap up the stairs.
“Dumbass,” I curse myself, pushing off the bed and standing slowly before following.
1 Pronounced bah-van-shee, is a Scottish Highland faerie who lures men into the woods and sucks their blood as she dances with them.