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)
He swallowed, his brows folding together and lips parting like he was ready to set them free. Before he could, what sounded like a herd of horses barreled down the stairs behind him.
“Ah, so this is where they hide all the beautiful people!”
Finn flinched as a large hand clamped down on his shoulder and squeezed, shaking him a bit from behind. That hand was attached to a very tan, very muscular arm — and a man with a smile so bright it was blinding.
He had long, dark blond hair with streaks that the sun had turned a brassy gold, and where Finn was sharp and put together, this kid wore a t-shirt that had been ripped into a tank top, the arm holes of it gaping so much his entire rib cage was visible beneath it. That “shirt,” if you could call it that, was paired with board shorts that looked so worn they were practically see through.
“I’m Elijah,” he said, still grinning ear to ear as he took his hand off Finn’s shoulder and held it out to shake his hand and then mine. “But you can call me Eli.”
“Hi, Eli,” I beamed right back, thankful for the distraction from the man standing next to him. “I’m Ember.”
“Finn.” Finn introduced himself.
“Right on. You the bosun?” Eli asked.
“Chef.”
“Cheffy!” Eli grabbed his shoulders and shook them cheerily. “You’ll be my favorite member of the crew, then.” He patted his belly as if he had a big gut. In reality, it was a stone wall of ridiculous muscle. “Eli loves to eat.”
I smirked at his reference to himself in the third person. I liked this kid already.
“I’m a deckhand, by the way. This is my first boat of this size, though. I fear I’m a bit green. And you?” he asked me next.
“Chief Stew.”
My chest swelled with pride at that title and introduction, and I swore I felt Finn’s eyes boring into the side of my head when I said it. He knew how much I’d wanted this, how long I’d worked for it…
How I’d chosen it over everything.
“Of course, you are.” Eli saluted me with mock seriousness before picking up the bag he’d slung off when he’d barreled into the crew mess. “American?”
I nodded.
“Irish,” he said, dragging his finger to Finn.
“Indeed.”
“South African,” Eli added, pointing to himself. “With captain up in the bridge, we’ve got half the world here.”
He was so smiley and goofy it was hard not to smile right back, and I knew without a doubt he would be the biggest partier of the crew.
He’d probably also be the biggest flirt.
I didn’t mind that, either.
“Right,” he said, nodding his chin toward me. “Where should I set up, Queen Ember?”
Yep — I officially wanted to kiss that giant, muscular, smiley sonofabitch, because now I had something to focus on other than the anxiety bubbling in my stomach over the fact that the producers had surprised me with my ex on board.
“I’ve got you down here,” I said, pointing to my right. “Back starboard cabin. You’ll be with one of the other deck hands.”
“Lekker,” Eli said, and then he saluted me with a wink as he passed.
“You’re down that way, too,” I told Finn, muttering a curse word internally when I saw his name on my clipboard. How had I not put the pieces together? Probably because there were plenty of men in the world named Finn, and I certainly never expected to ever be reunited with this particular one.
Especially on a yacht — since he was supposed to be in Dublin running his own restaurant.
That gave me pause, stomach somersaulting as I wondered what happened to that dream of his.
It was that dream that had sent us crashing into the cold hard Earth two years ago.
Because he’d neglected to tell me about it until we were leaving, until I assumed we’d be leaving together and found out I was woefully wrong. I would be continuing my career in yachting while he went back to Dublin to open his own restaurant. Part of me wanted to go with him, but unless I wanted to get into sailing, there was no yacht season in the Irish Sea. Besides, Dublin was cold and wet. It wasn’t for me.
No matter how much I thought Finn was.
I wondered how he’d ended up back in this world.
Did he want to be here, or was he here out of necessity?
I resisted the urge to look at him, knowing I couldn’t get those answers just by staring into his eyes, and I definitely wasn’t ready to ask the questions out loud. I kept my focus on the task at hand, picking up my phone to text a few additions to the provisioner and ignoring the way my body heated and raised to full alert as Finn squeezed past me and made his way back to his room.