I wake with a start. The consequence of working the early shift at the bakery is that I rarely sleep past sunrise. Add in a slight vodka headache and the unfamiliar rock of the boat, and I doubt I’ll fall back asleep anytime soon.

I peek at the man next to me. He snores lightly with his jaw relaxed. Bare-chested, but still in his chinos. The top button is undone and so low that I can see that V in his muscles—drawing my eyes lower still. A smile touches my lips. He’s too attractive even while sleeping. Especially now that I know how he kisses.

I slap my hand over my face. I was all over him last night.

What if he was drunk?

What if he really didn’t want to kiss me?

What if he didn’t really want me to touch him?

I bite my lip and roll over, closing my eyes and trying to still my thoughts. But my brain works against me and keeps coming up with more questions.

What if he wakes up and everything goes back to the way it was before? Where we stand inches from each other but neither of us reaches out.

My stomach twists, and suddenly the air seems so stuffy in here—like it’s too heavy for my lungs.

What if he wakes up and there’s doubt in his eyes?

I slide out from under his green bedsheets and find my jeans and sweater folded on a chair in a nice, neat pile. He’s always so considerate.

What if last night was just him being nice? He let me touch him because he was too kind to send me away.

I pull on my clothes, slip into the hallway, and close the door softly behind me. I tiptoe past the other two cabins and the galley. Dev’s asleep on the galley floor, wrapped in blankets and snoring loudly. It’s the only noise—otherwise the boat is quiet.

I open the hatch, and a burst of cold morning air greets me. I suck in a breath, letting it fill my chest. The sky is a stretch of light-gray clouds that cover the sun and darken the water. I step out on deck and then stop. Sebastian.

He turns and looks at me, eyebrows raised. He looks so much like Dean. He’s different too, but their similarities catch me right now. The same cleft chin, the same blue eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I glance back down the hallway. “I didn’t know anyone else was up. I—”

“Nah, come up.” He speaks quietly but gives me a lazy smile. That is one thing that’s different than Dean, who’s always got this half-grin like he’s thinking about teasing me. Maybe Dean is the evil one after all.

I cross to where Sebastian stands, not quite sure what to say to him.

“Want some water?” Sebastian nods toward the cooler. A Laura’s Bakery box sits on top. “Or a cock cake?”

Oh, no. No. “Dean told you about that?” I want to bury my face in my sweater.

“That one’s too good not to share.” He laughs softly. “Same with the cupcakes. I could live off those. Although I’ve been trying to even it out with something healthy every once in a while. Dean’s always buying these huge bags of spinach. Dude’s got some weird taste buds.”

“I could make some lower-fat ones.” I pull my sweater tightly around me. “I didn’t think that twenty-something men would be overly worried about the calories.”

“Never discount a man’s vanity.” He shrugs. “Actually, my mom was pretty strict when it came to that stuff. I can still hear her voice in my head when I fail to eat my daily vegetables.”

“Hear her v-v-voice?” Crap. It’s been a while since I stammered. I swallow back the lullaby, but open up my throat, taking in a breath of cool, humid morning air.

“Maybe that sounds odd,” Sebastian says. “It’s like she’s still here. Still looking out for us.”

His mom. Dean’s mom. I wish I’d gotten to meet her. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have wanted to meet me, but the way Sebastian talks about her, it sounds like she was a really good mom.

He looks off toward the island that we’re anchored near. Hills covered in trees are bright green against the gray day, a thousand different shades of green down to a rocky shoreline. I suppose, like his brother, Sebastian can’t see the green.

The water laps steadily, and we both stare at things far away, Sebastian toward the island. I turn toward the horizon—the long stretch of water that leads away from Portage.

“I’m glad I got to meet you,” he says suddenly.

I blink at the comment, trying to figure out exactly what it means. Because of the cock cakes? Because of Dean? And why does it sound like he’s leaving?

Sebastian turns to look at me, his mouth opening, and then he glances over my shoulder.

“I’m glad you got to meet her too.”

Dean. I’d know he’s there even if he hadn’t spoken. I always know. Like we’re bound so tightly that I can’t help but feel his presence.

He crosses the deck. He’s pulled on a hoodie, slightly unzipped so his collarbone peeks out. And his hair sticks up on one side. Like he didn’t bother to comb it before coming to find me. I take in every inch of him—from crimped hair to bare feet. And all the things hidden. More than what’s under his clothes. Our past twined together. The need that courses through my veins at the sight of him. The thought of what happened between us last night.

And now there’s no going back. Especially when he cups my cheeks and leans down to place a soft kiss on my lips. One that deepens almost instantly—as if he can’t help it. Then he stiffens, and his tongue slides across my bottom lip before he pulls back.

A morning kiss. No liquor. No darkened rooms. Just a simple kiss on the deck of a sailboat. One that says last night wasn’t a mistake.

I breathe out a sigh of relief as he steps back and glances at his brother. “Sorry, man. Couldn’t help it.”

“Didn’t ask you to.”

Dean nods. His gaze traces my face from lips to hair and back again. Then his forehead wrinkles, and he turns toward Sebastian.

“That should have been one of the first things I said,” Dean says to his brother. “The part about meeting her, I mean. That I’d like to meet her.”

I’m not sure what they’re talking about, but whatever Dean said makes Sebastian set a hand on Dean’s shoulder. And then they hug. This warm, brotherly hug that makes me smile.

Afterwards, they exchange a few words and then Dean reaches for the pastry box and holds it out to me.

I shrug and take a pumpkin cupcake. “I suppose I’ll have one.” I drop my voice so Sebastian can’t hear and lean close to Dean’s ear. “Although this cock cake is certainly less appetizing than the one I had last night.” I step back and put on my best innocent smile.

Dean stands there, blinking at me, taking a full minute to process what I said. Then the corner of his mouth ticks up. “Did you just make a cock joke?”

Every time I turn around, I like Ella more. It’s not just the blowjob and cock jokes.

Although I have to admit, those are helping.

It’s that there’s always more to her. Something surprising. Something deeper. Something that lures me in.

And now, she moves into my touch. When my hand settles on her hip, she rotates into it. When I lean down to kiss her, she pushes up to her toes. Just that little detail—her pushing up to her toes… Fuck, it makes my whole chest expand with this strange mixture of craving and contentment.

We sit side by side on the gunwale for a solid hour. Eating cock cakes and talking about my southern route. She asks questions. Real questions—how I was preparing, where I was docking and for how long, how much it costs to get through the Panama Canal. Not just questions that people ask when they want to be polite. Real fucking questions.

Sebastian disappears below deck to shower and work out. I think his arms might break off if he doesn’t get to do a certain amount of morning push-ups. But it gives me more alone time with Ella. That sexy hair of hers is tangled from sleeping, which just reminds me of how she was pressed up against me. And every single time those dark eyes fall on my lips, I lean forward and kiss her. I don’t miss a single opportunity.

But out of the corner of my eye, I watch the darkening sky. The density of the clouds. A slight change in wind. We shouldn’t stay here much longer. I might have pushed it in the past, but with Ella on the boat, I don’t want to risk anything.

Besides that, I’ve got a charter this afternoon. It’s funny how far away that feels right now.

So I finally slip off the gunwale and head down to the galley to wake up Dev, who’s passed out on the floor, snoring so loud that it’s practically rattling the pots and pans. I swear, the guy does everything big and loud. Except for wake up, because I have to lean down and shake him a few times. But then he grunts and lumbers up, glaring at me before he stalks down the passage to my cabin.

I set some coffee brewing and look around—surprised to see exactly how many empty liquor bottles clutter the small galley.

“Oh my God, I smell coffee.” Renee shuffles into the room, face red and blotchy. Apparently everyone had a late night. She wrinkles her nose at the table full of shot glasses.

“Coffee.” I gesture toward an empty mug on the counter next to me. “Then maybe you can help me with this mess so we can get headed back before the rain.”

“Sure.” She brightens. I have no idea why asking if she’ll help clean up a mess makes her brighten, but it smooths out some of her color, and she moves to stand next to me, taking the mug and holding it out when the coffee’s done brewing.

After I fill her cup, she digs around in one of the drawers to find a spoon and some non-dairy creamer. I was surprised we even had any. She fixes her coffee and takes a drink. Then wrinkles her nose.

“Sorry it’s not milk.” I pour myself a cup. Bitter. Black. Perfect.

“No, it’s fine.” She sets down her mug and taps her nails on the counter. “I was just thinking of the coffee they have at Salt’s. Worst ever. He runs the same grounds through three times. Maybe more.”

“Salt’s must be an interesting place to work.” Dock gas stations always are. It’s probably half indescribably boring and half listening to people complain about boats.

She takes another small sip. Which gets another nose wrinkle. “It’s just temporary.”

“Ella makes it sound like you don’t care for working there.”

She jabs a finger at me. “She told you about the sailing.”

Damn. I said I wouldn’t say anything, right?

“I promised to keep it quiet,” I offer. It’s the best I can come up with.

She shrugs. “It’s fine. Boyfriends get an exception. Everyone knows that.”

Boyfriend.

The word takes me by surprise.

Is that what Ella called me? Somehow I don’t think so. As much as I’d like to push the issue with Renee and find out every detail, it doesn’t feel right. Ella will call me that when she’s ready. Making it an issue isn’t going to get us there faster.

I focus back on Renee when I realize she’s still talking. My Ella-distraction level is off the charts.

“So I get a sailing lesson per week,” Renee’s saying. “And a paycheck. And I don’t have to get up when it’s still dark like Ella does.”

I take a slow drink of my coffee, watching her over the mug. “Come work for me.”

“What?” She shakes her head. “No, I can’t do that.”

“Why not? Sebastian’s leaving, and I need someone to take his place. Someone I can trust.”

“You hardly know me.”

True. But she’s missing something. “Ella trusts you. What’s a better endorsement than that?”

She shakes her head. “I can’t promise much.”

“Can you promise the rest of the summer? About two months. We can work out the details.”

She blows out a long breath, eyeing me. “What about Dev?”

“He’ll either thank me endlessly, or he’ll get over it. Either way, it’ll be fine.” I lean back against the counter, swirling my coffee. “There’s no pressure, Renee. Say ‘no,’ and I’ll shrug and top off your mug.”

She bites her bottom lip. It’s something Ella does, but on Renee it looks like indecision. She and Ella don’t look much alike, actually. I’d never pick them out as sisters.

“There’s something else.” Her gaze drops to the mug. “Something I haven’t told Ella.”

Okay, I didn’t expect that. “You don’t have to tell me if—”

She holds up a hand. “I haven’t been sleeping well. Or really at all. But I’m tired all the time. I just… Doctors are doing some testing, but it’s not clear what’s going on. And I don’t want anyone to worry. I remember what it was like when mom went through tests like this and everyone was worried.” She combs a hand through her hair and then looks at the ends, finally dropping them and focusing back on me. “I’d need some days off. The appointments are in Upper Bay.”

“We’ll work it out,” I assure her, instantly worried for her. I may not know her very well, but she’s been nothing but spirited and kind since coming aboard. And it makes me worry for Ella, too.

“There’s one other thing,” she says. “You can’t tell Ella about the appointments.”

My jaw clenches before I can stop it. I don’t like the idea of keeping anything from Ella. “I think she’d want to know. She’d want you to tell her.”

She takes a drink and wrinkles her nose again. I doubt she’s going to ask for a second cup.

“I don’t like keeping things from Ella,” I explain. “And more important than that, she would want to be there for you.”

Renee gives me a small smile. “Don’t worry, Dean. I’ll tell her.” She crosses the room and starts to gather up the empty shot glasses. “Just not until I know more.”