Something no one had ever accused her of being.
Pushing herself to catch up, she accidentally—sort of—knocked him into a wall. Still laughing, he snagged her arm, yanking her behind him, and kept the lead.
So she pulled out the big guns and fought dirty. She hit the floor with a soft, pained gasp.
“Oh shit,” he said. Whipping back around, he dropped to his knees at her side. “What is it? Your ankle?”
“Nope!” She was on her feet and running, laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. She had this! She was going to get the cabin with the porthole. Already grinning in triumph, just before she got to the door, she turned and sent him a smug smile over her shoulder.
Which was when he snatched her around the waist and manhandled her aside to get to the door first.
But the deal was that it was the first person to the bed. So she took a flying leap and hit him in the back, and . . . they both landed on the bunk at the same time.
They were laughing and grappling as they bounced, and suddenly she realized James was flat on his back sprawled with limbs akimbo, and she was on top of him, pinning him down. “Um . . .” She went still and stared at him, heart pounding, head spinning.
As for what he was feeling . . . she had zero idea. He was much better at hiding his emotions, but she sure as hell hoped he was feeling tortured by his feelings.
“Nice hat,” he said.
“Dammit.” She tugged the elf headpiece off. The bow too.
He hadn’t moved, just continued to stare up at her, the air seeming to crackle around them, and not from the incoming storm. Needing to cut the sudden tension, Hannah scrambled off him, sitting back on her heels on the foot of the bed. “You’ll still do anything to win, I see,” she turned to quip.
He sat up as well, smile long gone. “Good thing, then, that this time all I’m interested in winning is some peace and quiet.” Pushing off the bed, he headed to the door.
“You’re leaving?” she asked his back. “You’re letting me have this cabin without a fight?”
“We’re not kids anymore, Hannah.” His mouth quirked very slightly, but he didn’t smile. “And I’m not doing this with you again. Once was enough for me.” He paused. “Though I’ll admit watching you hitch up that sundress to race me is going to stick with me for many nights to come.”
She looked down at her sundress, mostly as a delay tactic, because he was right, of course. What had happened was all on her. “Look,” she said in a low voice, “I just need to give something to Harry, and then I’ll leave, and you and your parents can have the whole week to yourselves, okay?”
He looked surprised. “Okay.”
So he wasn’t going to try to keep her here. Fair, though also hurtful. She scooted off the bed and then nearly hit the floor when the boat rocked.
They stared at each other in shock.
“Are we—” She shook her head. “No. He wouldn’t. It’s probably just the tide coming in.”
“It’s too early for the tide.” He moved to the porthole. “Shit.”
She rushed to the porthole too, elbow to elbow with him. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah,” he said grimly. “We’ve set sail.”
Chapter Two
BOTH JAMES and Hannah hit the door running, racing back in the direction they’d just come, down the narrow hallway and up the stairs. James had no idea what her thoughts were, but his were hell no. No way was he going to get stuck on this boat with Hannah Banfield. No way, no how.
He’d been thrown off-balance when he’d first boarded and seen her standing there with Harry, as if the past six years hadn’t happened.
Like maybe Jason was still alive . . .
Just his brain messing with him again, of course. Because Jason was long gone.
James was no longer drowning in grief. He had his head above water. He was finally, finally starting to get used to his new normal, living in a world with his two best friends gone. One dead. One—Hannah—gone by choice.
And yet here she was, all five feet seven inches of sexy curves and curly honey-brown hair flying around her face, with milk chocolate eyes he’d happily drowned in more than once—a fact he was doing his best to forget. Above deck, he looked around, stunned to find Miami’s shoreline was already far away, and stopped short.
Hannah plowed into the back of him, and he reached back to steady her. When she held her own, he turned to her, the woman he was stuck at sea with, the first woman he’d ever fallen for. And while logically he knew he was long over it, over her, there was nothing rational about how just looking at her had made his heart roll over in his chest and expose its underbelly.
She gave him a look he couldn’t begin to interpret and then stalked to the cockpit.
Harry stood there, hands on the helm as he steered, chewing on an unlit cigar, looking fully at ease as he eyed the navigation systems.
“What the actual hell, Dad?” Hannah asked.
Harry glanced over at them. “Problem?”
“Are you kidding me?”
Harry flashed his stepdaughter a grin before looking at James. “Just got a text from your parents. They never got out of New York. Planes are grounded due to a massive snowstorm. They’re going to catch up with us in San Juan.”
A stay of execution . . .
“Take us back, Dad,” Hannah said.
“No can do, Smalls. We’ve got our own storm system moving in. No worries, though. If all goes to plan, we’ll stay well ahead of it.”
“Dad, this is silly. There’s no reason for you to waste the fuel and rations for only the two of us. Just take us back.”
At the emotion in her voice, Harry took his gaze off the horizon to look at her.
James did not. He’d already soaked up the sight of her in that adorably sexy sundress. Plus, he’d just quite literally been beneath her, which had stirred up a lot of things best forgotten. His brain knew this, it did. But the rest of him hadn’t quite caught up. He hadn’t seen her in years, and the last time he had was right here on this boat, when he’d watched her walk away from him.
“This isn’t happening,” she said, tossing up her hands. “Turn us around.”
“As I mentioned, James’s parents are going to catch up with us in Puerto Rico. Same with your mom, I’m sure.” He smiled around the cigar. “Damn, it’s going to be great to all be together again.”
“Dad, that’s at least three days from now.”
Harry looked over the instruments, did a quick calculation, and shook his head. “Actually, with the headwind, maybe even four.”
“Look, Dad . . . just don’t get your heart set on this, okay? You know how Mom can be.”
“No, this year she’s coming,” Harry said firmly. “I can feel it.”
Hannah didn’t say anything to this, just slid dark sunglasses on her face. But the worry wasn’t hard to read, concern likely with good reason. Leslie Banfield liked to make promises, but she wasn’t as fond of keeping them. Same as Harry. Growing up, James had hated that for Hannah.
She had her arms crossed over her chest. Clearly there was something more than just worry on her mind.
James knew this woman. Or at least he’d known the girl she’d once been. She was smart as hell, passionate, and incredibly dedicated to those she cared about.