Bring the Heat, Margot Radcliffe [best novels to read to improve english .TXT] 📗

vessel, Molly, and deserve your respect when you enter my control room.”

“Um, you do know that the captain dies at the end of that poem, right?” she asked, quirking a light brow.

“Always a smart-ass. Come here and give me a hug,” he growled, opening his arms for her.

Crossing the small room, she stepped into his embrace and the euphoric sense that he’d made the right decision swept over him again, taking any residual doubts with it. He was where he belonged and the final piece of the puzzle was in his arms. It’d been painful all those years ago to end their relationship, but it had been for the best. His parents would have eaten her alive before sending her back home so fast they never would have had a chance. Even now the threat was there, but at least Oliver was out on his own. They no longer had a say in what he did, but it didn’t mean they wouldn’t try.

“I’m so glad you came,” he told her, his face in her hair, the fresh scents of sun and citrus invading his nostrils.

“Me, too,” she told him, leaning back to grin up at him.

Not kissing her right then was hard, but today they were just old friends. Tomorrow and the days following, he hoped to be more, but for now, however, friends. Friends who knew what the other friend looked like naked, yes, but friends, nonetheless.

He resisted the urge to brush a piece of hair out of her eyes, almost resenting it when she did it herself. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded and he knew it was automatic, the thing people had to do to make other people feel more comfortable with their pain. “I’ve been better, but I’m managing. Thank you for this opportunity,” she said, shaking her head. “It couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“Just tell me you’re not going to get back together with that asshole,” he said, trying to lock gazes with hers, but she looked away, unable to hide the sadness in her brown eyes.

“Of course not,” she laughed, but the sound was forced to his ears.

“Molly,” Oliver told her, giving her shoulders a squeeze, “he did you dirty, so don’t let a little broken engagement ruin your vacation. Look at me—I’ve avoided three engagements myself and have never been better.”

“No, I know that,” she said with another little laugh, “but we were together for a long time. It’s just hard.” She met his eyes, a corner of her mouth quirking. “And what do you mean by vacation? You’re putting me to work on this boat!”

“You know you can work as much or as little as you’d like.” That was his plan, anyway.

“I knew you were going to be a good boss.”

“Oh, no, I’m driving the boat, but I’m not managing people. And you’re above deck now, baby,” he reminded her with a grin. “We’re doing this month in style.”

Shaking her head at him, she planted herself in front of the wheel to gaze out onto the water just like he’d been doing when she’d entered the room.

“Damn, it’s really beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, her voice hushed as she took in the ocean stretched out in front of them, the sun rippling across the calm surface of the water. “I’ve been landlocked in Denver for so long I’d forgotten.”

She turned to him then, a free and easy smile on her face that seemed erased of the bad memory of her ex. It had been the thing that inspired him to make this move now. Aimless for years and simply following his parents’ directives, seeing her broken engagement on social media had rattled loose a part of him he’d buried. The part that had bought this yacht in the first place, the one that needed to finally start over on his own terms, and Molly had been the last piece of the liberation. The one who’d gotten away, if he was being honest. The lovely, caring person his family would have obliterated if given the chance.

“I didn’t think I’d ever be on a yacht again,” she said, her hand brushing over the control panel. “I’m ready to get greasy in the engine room again, though.”

He laughed. Molly had been the boat engineer of the yachts they’d worked on after college, but he wanted this to be a vacation for her, too. She deserved it after that jerkbag of a fiancé cheated on her. Molly, who was sweet and kind and perfect, was the last person who deserved that kind of shabby treatment.

“This job will be a piece of cake for you after working on satellites and rockets.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Why do you think I’m here?”

Oliver laughed. “Come on,” he urged, motioning for her to follow him out the door. “Let’s check out the rest of the boat and get the provisions ordered. We sail at sunrise.”

“I assume you’ll be in charge of the provisions,” she queried as he led her outside and back down to the aft deck toward the engine room, “or else we’ll be eating out of a jar of peanut butter with only vodka to drink.”

“Sounds like a great vacation to me,” he shot back, grinning over his shoulder at her. “But yes, you can’t be trusted with any food items.”

She shook her head, knowing her reputation preceded her. “So the motor is completely redone?” she asked as he opened the door to the heart of the boat.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I did my homework and found the most reliable manufacturer in the world so I don’t expect any problems.”

“NavalTech?”

He nodded.

“Good boy,” she teased, giving him a jovial pat on the back.

“I’m insulted that you would ever doubt me,” he told her, waving her through the doorway before him.

The engine room floor was textured metal, cool on his bare feet. Molly whistled in approval when she saw the setup—shiny fuel tanks, fuel pumps, vents, propellers, and tons of other buttons and tubes he