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)
“What about you, Em?” Leah asked. “You going to have any fun before this season is over?”
“I’m the chief stew,” I reminded her. “My job is to stay professional.”
“Eli will be crushed to hear that,” Bernard said. “Poor thing is like a lost puppy when it comes to you, just following you around like a mutt begging for scraps.”
“Oh, my God, stop, he is not,” I said on a laugh.
“You’re blind if you don’t see it,” Leah said. “He’s been into you since the first charter. And I don’t see why you can’t have some fun, if you want to. I bet he’d be a great lay.”
I flushed so hard Bernard ran his hand over the condensation from his cocktail and rubbed it on my cheeks.
“Oh! If not him, maybe Palmer?” Leah suggested next. “He’s hotter than a Montgomery summer.”
“Palmer isn’t interested in any boatmances,” Gisella snapped, still irritated by the whole conversation, it seemed. “He’s a bosun.”
“Exactly. Gisella is right. We’re both here to do our jobs and get paid — that’s it.”
But Bernard was eyeing Gisella curiously. “And just how do you know what Palmer wants?”
She waved him off. “Doesn’t take a genius to read the neon signs.”
“Uh-huh.” Bernard narrowed his gaze, but then snapped his smile back to me. “What about Cap? He’s newly single. Very daddy-like. Could spoil you rotten, too. You don’t mind an age gap, do you?”
“And on that note,” I said, standing up and stretching my back. “I’m going to take a stroll by the water.”
“Should we send Eli to join?” Gisella teased.
I gave them all two big thumbs up, and their chorus of laughter followed me all the way down to the water.
The warmth of the sand gave way to cool relief as I stepped closer to the shoreline, my feet sinking into the soft grains with each step. The breeze off the Mediterranean carried hints of sea salt and lemon, and I let it lift my hair off my shoulders, breathing in deep as I walked.
The laughter from our lounge chairs slowly faded behind me, muffled by distance and the rhythmic sound of the waves lapping against the shore. Out here, away from the teasing and the cameras, it was quiet. Still.
I wrapped my arms around my waist, not from any chill — because the Amalfi sun was generous — but from the ache that was blooming in my chest.
Six charters behind us and just a few left now. It was almost over.
And what a season it had been.
There were so many moments I thought I might break under the pressure — under the expectations, the long hours, the chaos. But somehow, I hadn’t. I’d kept things afloat, managed every detail, every guest tantrum, every crew conflict. I’d stepped up as a leader and earned the respect of the captain and crew. I was damn proud of that.
And still…
My father’s voice haunted me.
“This isn’t a real career, Ember. It’s a phase. A detour. You’re smarter than this.”
I blinked hard against the sting that came with the memory. It didn’t matter how many times I reminded myself that he didn’t understand; that he’d never even tried to. It still hurt. Worse than that, it made me doubt.
Was he right?
Was I chasing something fleeting? Something unworthy? Was I wasting time instead of building the kind of life that would make him finally look at me with approval instead of disappointment?
My eyes lifted from my toes in the sand to the horizon. Everything in me wanted to believe I wasn’t wrong. I wanted to trust that surge in my heart for this job, this life, for the people I’d grown to love and the passion I felt for what I did.
It meant something.
But even as I stood rooted in that truth, doubt whispered like the tide around my ankles, washing over me, pulling me back, tempting me to give in.
I sank into the sand where the surf kissed the shore, arms draped over my knees, toes half buried. I watched the waves, letting their rhythm soothe the war in my chest. I wanted to just have fun. It was a beach day, for fuck’s sake. And when I was with the crew, the alcohol buzzing through me made me silly and happy and carefree.
The moment I was alone, it made me sad.
I didn’t hear him approach, too lost in my own thoughts, but I felt the moment his shadow passed over me.
Finn settled into the sand without a word, close but not touching. I didn’t look at him, not right away. I just kept watching the sea, heart thudding at the nearness of him.
I felt his eyes on me.
Always, I felt him.
And just like the sea, he unsettled me — familiar and wild, beautiful and dangerous, capable of saving me or pulling me under.
“Hello, Firefly.”