Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“Maybe you were born to stand out.”
She’d winked at that, giving me one last hug before she was gone.
Then, the final charter had been rowdy but otherwise uneventful — a bachelor party for a Texas paper mill owner getting married for the fifth time. The guys drank more than a fraternity, and poor Leah was likely scarred from cleaning their cabins, but they ate what we gave them with pure delight and didn’t ask for any frills with their events. They just wanted to party in Italy, smoke cigars, drink a gallon of whiskey each per day, and bake in the sun.
Now, I laid with my head on Finn’s chest, smiling a little against the warm skin as I traced the firefly tattoo on his ribs. By one, the guests would be gone. By eight, the boat would be clean. And by this time tomorrow morning, we’d both have our bags packed and be the first ones off this damn boat.
We had one more crew night out obligation and then we were free.
And unlike two years ago when we were ending a yacht season, there wasn’t an ounce of fear or anger in me this time. There was no confusion, no concern for what the future might hold.
Because I knew we were in it together.
“What was the restaurant like?”
Finn inhaled, his chest rising and falling with my head on it while he rubbed my shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what was it like? How was it decorated, what was the food, what was the ambiance? What was your favorite thing about it?”
“A very layered question, I see.”
I leaned up, balancing my chin on my hands where they splayed his chest. “I want to know.”
Finn stared up at the bottom of Gisella’s bunk for a long moment, his brows pinched in concentration. “It was warm,” he finally said. “Cozy. Like stepping into a small pub in your hometown while the snow is coming down.”
I smiled. “That sounds nice.”
“It was all wood and candles and low-lit chandeliers. Everything was repurposed or thrifted, so none of the tables or chairs matched. But it worked somehow.” The corner of his lips lifted. “Reminded me of Gran’s.”
“Well, that was the point, wasn’t it?”
He nodded, his brows folding together again. “Breaks me heart, the way I trusted that bastard who killed me in the end. Gutted, I was. It hurt more than I can say, to put all that work into the restaurant that honored my gran only to have it stolen from me.”
“That’s his karma,” I said. “Not yours, okay? And maybe it was a sign from the universe. Maybe there’s an even better place out there. Maybe your gran knew something you didn’t and was… I don’t know, pulling strings from above.”
I laughed a little as I said it, not sure what I believed when it came to what happened to us after death. But Finn smiled at the story I’d painted.
“Maybe she knew, somehow, that leaving would be what brought me back to you.”
I bent down and kissed him for that one. “What was your favorite dish on the menu?”
“Easy. The beef and Guinness stew with colcannon.” Finn groaned and rubbed his stomach. “My sous helped me perfect the recipe. I brought in what I had from Gran, of course, but he added in some unexpected ingredients — gruyere cheese melted on top of the stew, roasted bits of pear in the potatoes. It shouldn’t have made sense, but it did. Felt like home in a dish.”
My eyes searched his, stomach tightening. “I wish I could have seen it, Finn. I wish I would have been there.”
“You’re here now,” he said, his lips finding mine. “You get to watch me stumble into the next disaster.”
I laughed. “Do you know what that will be?”
“Not quite,” he confessed. “But… I’ve a notion.”
“Care to share?”
“Not yet.”
I pouted, but he dug his fingers into my ribs until I laughed and squealed and rolled onto my back. Then, it was him over me, his hand brushing my hair out of my face as he looked down in reverence. “I’m sad I missed out on these two years of your life, too, you know.”
I shrugged. “Didn’t miss much. Just more of this.” My hands swept out toward the boat.
“You’ve been building your dream,” he countered. “I saw it the first day we were on board. You were a great stew two years ago, but now?” He shook his head. “I can see it, Ember. I understand why you love it so much. It… it just seems effortless from the outside. It seems like you’re really in your element.”
My chest squeezed. “It means a lot to me that you see it the way I do, that you don’t think I’m… I don’t know. Wasting my intelligence by serving others.”
“It takes an incredible human being to provide hospitality with a smile the way you do. It’s not just service; though, you’re excellent at that.” He paused. “It’s an art form. Truly. Cabins, interior, experience, service. It’s like this meticulous dance, and you move with such grace that it looks easy when I know for a fact that it is not.”