The Siren, KATHERINE JOHN [positive books to read .txt] 📗

“Thank you.”

“Imported from the Bahamas.” He grabbed another one from the fridge and gave it the same treatment, tapping the label against mine. “How’d the rest of your week go?”

I shrugged. “Good.” Truth be told, it had been tough in spots but nothing I wanted to discuss with him anymore.

“Not a very convincing performance,” he noted.

“Yours?” I asked, ignoring his comment.

“Great. With you guys working all week, I didn’t have any tours, so I took my nephews fishing and looked at a couple of boats for Cole.”

I bit my lip, recalling my argument yesterday with Cole about his refusal to pay for the additional Steadicam operator our cinematographer had urgently requested. “What kind of boat?” I asked, hoping it was a fucking canoe.

“Pleasure yacht. You should see the ones I’ve been looking at.” He let out a low whistle, then cut his eyes to me and abruptly dropped it. “But I can tell that may be a sensitive subject for you, so I’m gonna stop right there.”

I swigged my beer, wondering if he’d taken JeanieBabie24 with him to see the yachts. “Thanks.” I was beginning to feel a pleasant hum beneath my skin and was happy I’d tossed my no-drinking-on-the-job rule out to sea. “Sorry. He’s been stressing me out, but I can’t really get into it right now.”

“Gotcha.”

I indicated his beer. “Are you allowed to do that?”

“What?”

“Drink alcohol while driving a boat?”

He laughed. “We’re not in the States, and I won’t get drunk.” He knelt next to the sink and opened the cabinet below, fiddling with one of the drainage pipes.

“What are you doing?”

“Sink’s been draining slow,” he said as he unscrewed the pipe.

It was really hard not to be turned on by a man who could fix things with his hands. Most of the men I knew were more helpless than I was. I hopped down from my perch on the counter and squatted next to him, watching as he deconstructed the pipe into three pieces. I was a homeowner now, and I should know how to do this kind of thing. “Show me.”

His half smile said most girls wouldn’t be interested, and he thought it was cool I was. “It’s easy,” he said. “First you’ve gotta make sure the sink is drained; otherwise you’ll get wet. Then you unscrew the ends of the curved piece.” He finished doing it and showed me as he gently pulled it down. “Make sure that’s clear, then check the connecting pieces.” He removed a mass of something nasty from the pipe, which he tossed into the trash. “Easy.”

“Cool,” I said. It did, in fact, look pretty easy.

“You’re missing a beautiful sunset up there,” he said as he fitted the sink back together.

“Yeah.” I stood and stretched my legs. “But I’m close to the beer.”

He raised his brows. “And not so close to your friends?”

“Coworkers,” I corrected him.

“Mmm.”

“What’s that mean? Mmm?”

He shrugged.

“It’s not like they’ve exactly made an effort with me either,” I said.

“Okay.” He closed the cabinet and washed his hands in the sink.

“I used to make an effort. At my last job. But when I got fired, all those people I’d thought were my friends dropped me like a hot potato.”

“So, no more friends?”

I snorted. “What, are you my therapist?”

He raised his hands. “Just curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

He held my gaze. “I’ll take that chance.”

Heat crept up my spine. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be steering the boat?”

He shook his head, a twinkle in his eye. “We dropped anchor. Which you would know if you weren’t down here belowdecks, sulking.”

My jaw fell at his brashness, and I found, despite myself, I was smiling. “I like to think of it as pouting.”

“Come with me.” He turned and headed up the stairs.

“Do I have to?” I called after him.

“No,” he returned, without looking over his shoulder.

But he was right. I was acting like a child. So I ascended the stairs after him, shielding my eyes as I emerged into the Technicolor rays of the setting sun.

“Up here.”

I followed the sound of Rick’s voice upward again to see him standing in the raised cockpit. I climbed the ladder with my beer in one hand, allowing him to pull me up over the last few rungs onto the deck beside him. The platform was just big enough for the two of us and a shallow bench, so high it felt like we were floating above the boat. The sky glowed coral and violet, reflecting in the calm sea. “You were right,” I breathed. “This is spectacular. It’s like we’re inside the sunset.”

He smiled that slow smile. “A little better than the view from the galley.”

Below us, Felicity and Jackson leaned on the railing of the bow, looking out toward the horizon, their heads inclined toward each other. I’d noticed them spending more and more time together over the course of the week, which only made me more suspicious of Felicity’s motives. But truth be told, Jackson was pretty lust-worthy, and Felicity had been nothing but helpful and gracious all week, so perhaps my paranoia was unfounded.

Cole and Madison reclined on a lounger at the stern with their backs to us, thankfully. The last thing I needed was shit from Cole for hanging out with Rick, and I knew he’d relish the opportunity to dish it out. I observed them for a moment, wondering what two narcissists could possibly be discussing so animatedly. Themselves, likely. For once Madison’s phone was out of sight and she wasn’t posing. On second glance, I realized she was posing, only not for the camera, but for Cole, doubtless hoping a dalliance would thrust her further into the spotlight. Great.

But where was Stella? I leaned over the railing and gazed down to see her laid out on the front of the boat, asleep. My stomach suddenly flipped at the height. Dizzy, I reached out to steady myself and found Rick’s strong arms around me. “Easy there.” I felt his deep voice reverberate