Chapter 2 #2
Jules was always so helpful. He was lucky to have her assigned to his charters so often. “I already did,” Russ said. “It looks great. Go crash. We’re setting off early tomorrow.”
He took one last look at the dark water, lapping gently against the boat, then headed up for a last check of the bridge, the soft creak of the stairs echoing in the quiet.
Tessa turned over for the third time in her bed, then sighed and kicked the sheet off entirely.
They’d sailed a short distance around the island of Moorea this afternoon and anchored for the night in a tranquil cove.
They’d jumped into the sea and used the rafts to float about in the warm water for a couple of hours, splashing and exploring.
It had been—amazing, actually. She shouldn’t have worried.
But now, as the catamaran swayed gently beneath her, the motion made her feel like she was floating midair—not enough to make her sick, just… unsettled. Or maybe that was her brain.
Sleep, contrary to what she’d been told, wasn’t coming easily on a boat. Not when her body was convinced it was moving and her mind was doing laps around the thoughts she’d promised not to bring on this trip.
She tossed the sheet back over her legs, stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, then gave up.
Pulling a sweatshirt over her tank top and pajama shorts, she padded up the narrow stairs to the top deck, the quiet hush of waves wrapping around her like a lullaby that hadn’t quite worked.
The quiet hit her first. The muffled sound of laughter and chatter was gone, since the group had retired to their rooms earlier.
The stars hit her next—so many of them. The sky was absolutely glittering, a black velvet canvas dotted with light. In Miami, stars competed with the glow of the city. Here, the celestial bodies owned the night.
She exhaled slowly and leaned against the rail.
She hadn’t expected to feel lonely. Even having a steady boyfriend for six months, and even having developed such a great group of friends so far from home, she was used to independence.
Used to solo projects at work, solo meals, solo workouts, solo playlists.
But something about this kind of quiet—this kind of open ocean night—made her feel small in a way she hadn’t expected.
“You’re up late.”
She startled, spinning slightly at the hushed voice.
Captain Russ stood a few feet away, a coil of rope in one hand, vibing with the kind of easy calm that probably came from hundreds of nights like this one. He’d taken off the captain’s hat hours ago, she’d noticed, and it turned out it wasn’t the hat that made him so handsome.
“Sorry, Captain,” she said quickly. “Didn’t mean to sneak up.”
His mouth tipped at one corner. “It’s Russ. Please. And you didn’t. I saw you the second you stepped out.”
“Oh,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. She thought she’d been alone.
He tied the rope with two quick tugs and secured it to a cleat before straightening. “Can’t sleep?”
“Not really.” She hesitated. “I didn’t know the ocean could seem so active when everything else is so quiet and still.”
Russ nodded slowly. “Most people think the sea is peaceful. But it’s never completely still. That’s part of why I like it.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “Because it’s always moving?”
He met her gaze, steady and unreadable. “That, but also because it never lies.”
The words hung in the air a moment longer than she expected.
She swallowed. “Well, that’s… poetic. ”
He smirked, almost like he regretted saying it. “Sorry. Long day.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m usually the one saying unusual things late at night.” She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward against the railing again.
He moved to stand beside her, just far enough away that she didn’t feel uncomfortable, just close enough she could feel the space between them.
“Have you ever been on a trip like this before?” he asked with interest.
“You can’t tell?” she said, grinning. “I mean—I almost freaked out about the no-shoes rule when we first boarded.”
“I thought so.” He grinned. “I was just being polite.”
She laughed. “Well, thank you, but no, I never have.”
“And do you mind the no-shoes rule now?” he asked. “I thought I saw you make a face earlier.”
She chuckled.
“Sorry to make you go shoeless, but it’s standard operating procedure on boats like this. The teak floors can scratch and get marked up easily with the sand and dirt that gets tracked in on everyone’s shoes.”
“Okay, well, I’m glad there’s a good reason for it.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Honestly, it took me a few hours to get used to not wearing my sandals around, but I’m good with it now. I guess it’s kind of—I don’t know—freeing? And when in Rome…”
He nodded. “Now, that’s the spirit. And how about seasickness? Have you had any?”
“No, not yet, at least. ”
“Good,” he said. “You’ll sleep better tomorrow, by the way,” he added, his voice lower now, more casual. “Most people find their sea legs by day two.”
“Is that right?” She smiled at him. “Well, thanks, Russ. I’m going to hold you to that.”
He glanced at her again, chuckling, and something about the look he gave her made her heart tick a little faster.
“Get some rest,” he said after a moment. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow. You’ll want energy for snorkeling, hiking, swimming with sea turtles and rays later this week.”
Tessa blanched slightly. “Rays? You say that like it’s nothing.”
He smiled. “Have you ever been snorkeling?”
She shook her head. “Never.” She’d been hiking, camping, swimming—in lakes and in rivers.
She’d even skidded down natural rock water slides in the mountains.
And of course, she’d been to the beach in Florida, many times, mostly to work on her tan—if you could call it a tan.
But tropical rays weren’t exactly a thing in Ohio.
“Well, these waters are amazing. You’re going to love it.”
“I’ll have to take you at your word on that, too, then.
” She smiled nervously. To her, it sounded like a lineup of possible drowning scenarios.
Then again, it was one of the reasons she’d signed up for this trip.
She was turning thirty, after all, and bucket lists made were bucket lists to be fulfilled.
He smiled again, and she noticed how his eyes lit up when he did. “Don’t worry. I’m very good at pulling people out of the water.”
“I’ll try not to test that.” Something about his words—or maybe his demeanor—made her relax, though. He certainly looked capable of fishing someone out of the water. She only hoped it wouldn’t have to be her.
He gave a small nod, then turned toward the helm. “Night, Tessa.”
She watched as he left, an odd sense of relief filling her that he was the man in charge. “Night, Captain. I mean—Russ.”
He turned back and grinned.
She stayed at the rail for at least another minute after he disappeared below deck. Staring up at the stars, still glittering brightly, she felt the boat rocking gently in the evening breeze. A yawn escaped her, and her eyes finally felt heavy. She turned and headed back downstairs.