That’s a tall order with Richard and Lacey though, and Daisy can take the loosening up thing a little too far.
Judge her all you want, but you loved the way she was falling all over you at the wedding.
I elbow that voice in my head to shut up.
For clarity’s sake, there’s truth in that.
When the wedding reception really got going, Daisy got going as well. As in drunk. At least she was a happy drunk and was running around taking photos of everyone. I kept watching her, wondering if she’d eventually get around to taking a photo with me.
Had to say, I think I might have been jealous of the attention she was giving everyone else.
It was almost as if she smelled those jealousy fumes coming from my direction, because then she turned her attention to me and would not let up.
I pretended it bugged me. I’m good at that.
In reality, I liked it.
She wanted photo after photo and I obliged her. I liked the feeling of her arm around my neck, I liked watching her smile and laugh and blush, I especially liked the feel of my cheek against her breasts, as playful as it was. Her skin is on a whole other level—warm, silky and sinfully soft.
Then she asked me to dance.
It was a slow song, some sappy Ed Sheeran, and I said no.
I guess I could see where she was going with all of this and I got cold feet.
Can’t really say why, just that it’s been happening to me a lot lately when an opportunity with a woman comes up. Those roads I don’t want to go down. Even when it’s just for a night, they never end up being what I want them to be, they’re always far more complicated than that.
She looked so sad and heartbroken for a moment, but she laughed it off.
I went back to the bar and watched her, thinking she’d turn her sights on someone else.
Instead she went to the dance floor and closed her eyes, swaying to the music by herself, lonesome among a sea of couples.
Don’t know why that sight affected me so much, but it did.
I went back out there and took her into my arms before she could say anything.
I’m glad I did too, because she was toasted and leaning into me like deadweight.
So I held onto her, both because I needed to keep her up, and because I liked holding her. She was so soft and warm and tender that it moved something deep inside of me, and no, it wasn’t my dick. Although I can’t say I wasn’t hard as hell. Thankfully, she was too drunk to notice. I don’t even think she remembers any of this.
After the dance, I knew the right thing to do would be to get her to bed.
Daisy had other ideas though.
She had bolted from the dance floor in the backyard and run all the way down the beach to the water.
“Come skinny-dipping with me!” she cried out, trying to undo the tie at the back of her neck. I hate to admit that I was a complete pig and just stood there, watching her struggle, hoping that the top would fall loose and those gorgeous tits of hers would be on display.
But her breasts stayed covered and she gave up. Probably for the best. Not sure what I would have done if I was presented with them. I’m getting hard just thinking about them right now.
“Tai?” Richard asks, making me jump in my seat.
“What?” I say, clearing my throat, instinctively about to get to my feet and look at the bow, but my hard-on makes me stay put.
Richard watches me carefully, then glances over at Daisy who is sipping her wine and still staring at the waves, the sky a splash of purples and pinks. Gorgeous sunset, infuriatingly gorgeous girl.
He looks back to me, brow raised. “I was saying, I wonder about our VMG.”
Right.
VMG is Velocity Made Good, a nautical measure of how fast you’re going in the actual direction of your waypoint based on speed, distance to target, and a little trigonometry. Richard loves the trigonometry part.
“It’s about 0.5 at the moment,” I tell him, which isn’t great. It doesn’t particularly matter if you’re rocketing at eight knots heading west if your destination is east. At the moment, the wind is trying to push us away from Fiji, which means just after dinner we had to do some course correcting. Hopefully the winds will switch when a new front comes in. And hopefully that front isn’t too bad.
I limit myself to one glass of wine, even though what I really want is a highball of whisky, maybe with a squeeze of lime. I need to stay sharp, especially if I’m going to be waking up at 3 a.m.
With Daisy.
Yes, I’ll need to be especially sharp for that.
The alarm goes off at 2:45 a.m.
I can’t remember the last time I had to get up at this hour, maybe when Holly and I sailed to Marlborough Sound.
The thought of my ex-wife makes my brain stutter. I’m relieved that I don’t seem to have any complicated feelings along with that thought, after all it’s been a few years since our divorce. It’s just an odd feeling sometimes to have so many memories wrapped up with one person, a person that’s no longer part of your life. It’s unfair. If they don’t exist in your life, they shouldn’t exist in your memories.
But life isn’t like that, is it?
I get out of bed before my thoughts get any darker. It doesn’t help that I had the world’s most uncomfortable sleep. Even with earplugs in, which I hate, it was hard not to listen to Lacey and Richard talking as they did their night shift. Plus the couch is awful to sleep on, too short for me, and my lower back is already sore.
No wonder I’m a fucking grump, I think as I head over to the stove to boil water for the coffee. Complain, complain, complain.
While the water is boiling, I stick my head up top.
“Good morning,” I say to Richard and Lacey, who are in each other’s arms. Lacey is asleep, snoring, Richard has one hand on the steering wheel, barely holding on.
“Oh thank god,” Richard says softly. “I was afraid I couldn’t hold out any longer. I never even stayed up this late at university.”
That doesn’t surprise me in the least.
“Go to sleep,” I tell him. “You’re officially being relieved.”
I head back down while he wakes up Lacey, and go straight to Daisy’s cabin.
I knock, but there’s no answer.
I swear I saw her set an alarm on her phone. She probably should have used an actual alarm clock like the one I have. You can’t trust phones in a dire situation.
“Daisy?” I call out.
I open the door and peer in at her.
The sidelight is on.
She’s sleeping on her back, mouth open, drooling.
I have to stifle a laugh.
On her chest is her phone, rising and falling with each breath.
She’s so not made for this.
“Daisy,” I say louder, reaching over and shaking her shoulder until her phone slides off her.
“Huh, what?” she mumbles, rolling over until she sees me.
Then wipes the drool from her face.
“Shit. Sorry. What time is it?”
“Time to get up.”
“I must have turned off my alarm,” she says, looking embarrassed. She’s cute when she goes red.
“It happens. Come on.”
I wait until I see her reaching for a hoodie, making sure she doesn’t fall back asleep. I could let her keep sleeping. I’m totally fine up there alone for the rest of the night.