She smiles. “I was just thinking about how damn impressed I am with the way you father those girls. You’ve so completely got your shit together.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Oh, no. I definitely do not have all my shit together. Not even close.”
“Anyone who sees those babies of yours dressed to the nines will agree with me.”
I’m still trying to get my mind around her plans. “How does this sailing thing work? How do you know where to go, when to go, what you’ll find when you get there? Is it safe for a single, gorgeous woman to sail into these ports of Third World countries? I’ve been losing sleep thinking about you out there on the open ocean alone. I have to admit, it freaks me out.”
“This won’t be the first time I’ve done it. I sailed quite a bit when I was young, with my dad. And I often spent my breaks between ship gigs sailing on my own.”
“What do you mean between gigs?”
“I worked under contracts that last between four and eight months. When I can, I take off a month or two in between, rent a sailboat wherever I happen to be, and just chill.”
“That’s so… It’s just such a different way of life than I ever knew about. I mean, I know people live on boats, I just never met one who did. It all seems so exotic to me. Where did you go as a kid?”
“Oh, man, a lot of places. From about eight years old on, I spent every school holiday on a boat with my dad. Short holidays, we’d sail to different places in the Great Lakes and dive, and we spent three summers at sea. The summer between fifth and sixth grade, we flew to Seattle, rented a sailboat, and sailed to Hawaii.”
“Oh my God.”
“It took a month to get there, a month to get back, and we spent a month sailing to the different islands.”
“That’s incredible.”
“I think that trip hooked me. We couldn’t do it as often as we wanted because Dad had to shut down the business.”
“And your other two trips?”
“Summer between eighth and ninth grade, we flew to Florida and sailed to Brazil.” She smiles, remembering. “I begged him to skip over to Africa, but we didn’t have time, and the social climate wasn’t safe. Then, for my graduation from high school, we flew to Portugal and sailed north, hit Spain, France, Ireland, Norway, and on the way back, we stopped in Iceland.”
I stare at her, mouth agape. “That’s seriously unfathomable. I can’t even imagine it.”
“Sure, you could. It’s really just a matter of learning something new. If you can manage medicine and something as crazy and unique as the human body, you’d get your head around a sailboat in a heartbeat.” She shrugs. “It’s just something you’ve never been exposed to.”
I let out a breath and shake my head. “The stories you must have. I want to hear them all.”
“A lot of good memories,” she says with a smile. “Really, all good. You’d think being cooped up together would cause issues, but I’ve found the exact opposite happens. You get closer. My dad instilled a lot of wisdom in those months we only had each other. Wisdom that’s made my life so much better than it would have been had I been sitting in the house playing video games.”
“I could see that. You’re forced to figure out a way to get along.”
She nods. “Never felt forced between me and my dad, but I’ve had a number of roommates on the ships I would have liked to smother in their sleep.”
“You had roommates?”
“I’ve shared seventy square feet with another person for the last ten years. Not to mention being around thousands of guests. This houseboat is the most room I’ve had to myself in what feels like forever.”
“I guess that makes having a whole sailboat to yourself alone at sea pretty compelling.”
“I don’t think it’s the space I particularly love. It’s more the freedom to move around at will.”
This is seriously fascinating. “How do you choose your destinations?”
“I do a lot of research. Check on weather and political climates and crime rates. I have friends all over the world, people I’ve either met working on the ships or during day trips I’ve taken at ports of call. I check in with them when I’m headed their way, not just to schedule a meetup, but to get a local’s take on the situation where they live.”
There were those “friends” again. I’m irritated with myself for feeling so insecure about her interactions with other men.
“I keep a variety of self-defense weapons on board—pepper spray, mace, flare guns, and several dive knives. I’ll also equip my boat with an extensive security alarm. They alert when doors, windows, or hatches are opened. There’s also motion detectors and deck vibration alarms, so if someone steps on board, I’m alerted. There are sensors to signal the engine being started, glass breaking, the boat moving from its mooring, disconnected mechanical equipment, and they have GPS tracker systems, like LoJack for boats.
“All the security features they’ve come up with gives me peace of mind for sailing alone. In reality, the chance of something happening out on open water is rare. I’m at a much lower risk of violent crime on a boat than I am in my normal daily life. I wouldn’t be traveling anywhere near waters with pirates or countries with severe strife, because desperation breeds crime, but I’ve heard enough stories to always keep my guard up.”
I’m awed by her depth of knowledge and her practical, well-thought-out approach to this dream. “I’m impressed. Really impressed.” But this information also drives home just how completely different we are. “Your life has been so adventurous. I guess I could see why you wouldn’t want to settle down.”
She studies me a minute. Something’s going on inside her, but I can’t tell what. “And I guess that’s a no-go for you.” She looks at the deck and nods. “I can respect that.” She meets my gaze again. “I don’t like it, but I respect it. You’ve already lost someone. I could see having an aversion to losing another.”
“That hasn’t been a problem with other people I’ve dated, but with you, yeah. I can already see how easily I could fall for you. And losing you would be a serious blow.”
Her gaze goes soft, and she curls her fingers into the front of my shirt and slides her hand toward my belly. It’s a gesture that has already programmed desire to spike inside me.
“You’re different for me,” she says. “You’re not the typical guy I’d go after. And I’m really curious to figure out what it is about you that makes me…”
She stops.
My heartbeat picks up speed. I’m standing on a cliff edge, leaning forward. “Makes you what?”
“A little crazy.” She sighs and looks down the street. “I find myself thinking about you all the time. I’ve lost interest in other men. I’m obsessing over Laiyla’s relationship with Levi, trying to figure out how she’s okay with staying here when she’s always loved traveling for work.”
She shrugs. “I feel like I’m in as much of an identity crisis as Violet. I mean, I know that neither of us fits the description of someone either of us needs right now, but the truth is, I never need anyone. Least of all a man. I never have.” She meets my gaze, serious and intense. “But, that said, there’s no denying that I want you. I want you more than I’ve wanted anyone in longer than I can remember.”