I had enough supplies to last three people three days, before we would need to restock somewhere up the coast. This job was a two-weeker for one couple. When the bookings came in, if the couples’ names indicated they were two men or two women, the head office usually booked them with me.

Being gay myself, I didn’t mind the guys getting it on in front of me, and lesbian couples usually preferred my orientation. Less threatening than a straight guy who might want in on the action, I guessed.

Because when we’re miles off the coast surrounded by nothing but water for days at a time, the customers needed to be comfortable around me, and not just confident in my ability to sail, but also to leave them alone.

My yacht was only fourteen metres, or forty-five feet, long. There were three cabins and one communal lounge space, galley, and bathroom. There wasn’t a great deal of room to hide from one another, and I did get to know my clients quite well. I was always excited to meet my new clients, and usually within the first five minutes of meeting them, I knew what they needed me to be. If they wanted a vocal coastal guide, a storyteller with a funny yarn to make them laugh, or if they needed me to be seen and not heard.

So I was surprised when I stood at the marina entrance, waiting for two guys to turn up, that the only guy to arrive, seeming out of place and like he was looking for someone, was on his own.

“Are you looking for Tropic Heat Tours?” I asked.

He stopped, looked at me, and did a double take. “Uh, yeah. I think that’s it.”

“Stuart Jenner and Jason Hardgrave? Party of two?” I asked, hoping to clarify.

He smiled and extended his hand. “Stuart Jenner. Now a party of one. Is that okay?”

Oh. One? “Yeah, sure, that’s perfectly fine.” I took his duffle bag and shook his hand. “Foster Knight.” I gestured to the jetty and we headed toward it. “Everything okay with your friend?”

“The short version is he’s not coming,” he snapped.

Right then. Jesus. This was going to be an interesting and more than likely awkward two weeks if this guy was going to be an arsehole the entire time.

He sighed and his shoulders fell. “Sorry. It’s been a… I’m sorry. He decided to tell me last night he wasn’t coming.”

I looked at him as we walked toward the end of the jetty. He wore khaki shorts and a light blue button-down, short-sleeve shirt. He had brown hair, short back and sides, dark brown eyes, and a jaw that could cut glass. But he also had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept in years. He squinted at the sunshine, and I was reminded he’d broken up with his boyfriend last night and been up since God knew when. Or maybe he hadn’t sleep at all. “That’s okay. No apology needed,” I said, giving him my best smile. “How was your flight here? You’re from…”

“Brisbane,” he answered. “Flight was okay. Non-eventful, which is always good. Can I tell you that I am so looking forward to this holiday? Like you can’t believe.”

I stopped walking, and he did too. “Well, I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”

“Sun, sleep, swimming, sailing, seafood,” he replied. Jesus, he really did look exhausted.

“Then you’ve come to the right place.” I turned to my pride and joy. My home. “This is her.”

My yacht was a Beneteau Oceanis 45. She was sleek and streamlined, white with dark tinted windows, and her rear deck was whitewashed wooden slats. The name, White Knight, was painted on the back, and the abstract outline of a knight’s profile finished the design.

Everyone assumed the Knight reference was to my name, and it was, mostly. I never bothered explaining the play on words, not that anyone ever asked.

“Home for the next twelve days,” I said, stepping aboard. “Come on, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

He followed, taking in my yacht. His wide eyes and smile told me he liked what he saw. “Wow. The photos don’t do it justice,” he said as we climbed down the stairs into the cabin.

I gestured toward the lounge seating area, then to the galley. “Fully stocked fridge and pantry. Help yourself to anything at any time. I’ll be your chef extraordinaire. You pre-selected your menu, but we can change it up a bit if you want. It’ll just be you and me, so whatever you want. Just ask.”

He nodded slowly. “I suppose you ordered enough food for two clients. Sorry about that.”

I waved him off. “It’s no problem. Means more beer for you.” He clearly was feeling pretty down, so I grinned at him. “More everything for us. But we’re scheduled to dock at a few marinas up and down the coast, so if you want anything else, just let me know and I’ll grab it for you. Nothing’s a problem.”

“Okay, thanks,” he mumbled distractedly, looking around the interior. “It’s beautiful.”

I loved people’s first impression. It never got old. “She sure is.” I showed him the bathroom, then opened the door to the master cabin at the bow of the boat. “This is your room. You have your own en-suite.”

He poked his head into the room. “Is this the biggest one?”

“Yes. Not huge, but you are on a yacht, not in a hotel.” I tried to keep my tone light, but was he really put out with the size of the room?

“Oh, no,” he said quickly. “I just assumed you’d have the biggest room.”

Oh.

“Customer first, right? I have the room on the aft port side,” I explained, pointing back to one of the two rooms near the ladder. “I don’t need much. I’d prefer you to be comfortable.”

He stepped into his cabin and put his bag on the bed. He took the whole room in and seemed to sag a little. “Well, this is great, thank you.”

“Why don’t you get settled in. Maybe even take a nap. I’ll be taking us out through the harbour going south at first, and it’s always slow going until we hit open water.”

“Slow going?”

“Oh, sure. There’s a major sugar export terminal, an operational naval base, customs and water police depots, commercial fishing fleet, slipways and floating docks, shipping companies, fishing and diving tour companies…”

“Oh.” He laughed. “I didn’t realise it was so busy.”

I gave him a smile. “You good?”

He smiled back, tired, but the way his lips curved crookedly gave his hard face a softer edge. “Yeah, I’m good. But I am kind of tired,” he mumbled, playing absentmindedly with the strap of his bag as he looked at the bed.

“Then I’ll leave you to it,” I replied, doing exactly that. I went back up on deck, and kicked the engine over. She purred to life, I pulled in the dock lines, and pushed off from the jetty then slowly took us out of Marlin Marina.

The port was busy, but I poked along, taking my time to get outside the harbour. I loved this part of my job; just me in the cockpit and nothing else but the blue sky and aqua-coloured ocean. I’d travelled all over the world, but nowhere else compared to the tropics of North Queensland, the Whitsundays, and the Barrier Reef.

But what I really loved, like really loved, was when I could hoist the sails, kill the engine, and sail.

That was where my heart was. Being taken on the wind at the mercy of Mother Nature and the elements she commanded.

I loved the power of it, challenging the force of it. It would never get old. Ever.

I’d held corporate power before. I’d known that rush, that addiction. That soul-sucking, life-crushing vacuum. But this was power and freedom, and that was the biggest rush for me. And I’d never felt more alive.

I took us south as I said I would, only at half pace, around to the bottom of Fitzroy Island, and kept a steady pace down the coast. My schedule didn’t call for rushing anymore, and the only references to time I kept my eye on these days were the sun and the moon and tide charts. The only deadlines I had to meet were my own. If we got to our first stop today or tomorrow was neither here nor there. I had almost two weeks to show Stuart around the Whitsundays.

And as he slept below, I had to wonder what his story was. He’d arrived alone, and it was pretty clear it wasn’t his choice to do so. He was a good-looking guy; I couldn’t deny that. I just hoped these two weeks together weren’t awkward. I’d never done a one-on-one before. I had no idea what his expectations were, or his intentions.

But he was exhausted, I could see that much. So, once we were well clear of other vessels and without knowing how long he might nap, I let us heave to, which was sail-speak for taking a break. I sat at the wheel, one foot up on the side, and leaned back, breathing in deep lungfuls of salt air and letting the sounds of the ocean wash around me. Gulls sounded overhead and water lapped at the hull. It was a symphony behind the silence, and I could listen to it all day.

But morning would soon be afternoon, and still, Stuart hadn’t come out. I wasn’t sure if he was avoiding me, or maybe he found the fact it was just the two of us beyond awkward. But there was one sure way to get him out of his cabin without blatantly knocking.

I fired up the grill.

While the king prawns cooked, I diced up some mangoes and avocado and added some dressing with just enough chilli to make your lips tingle. And sure enough, just as I was plating up, his cabin door opened and a sleep-rumpled Stuart appeared.

“Oh, perfect timing,” I said with a smile, handing him a plate.

He took his lunch and scrunched his face up in that still-half-asleep way and shook it off. “Sorry. Thought I’d just snooze for a bit. Didn’t mean to fall asleep like that.”

“It’s all good.” I handed him a fork. “You haven’t missed much. I slowed us right down. I didn’t want to sail right past anything you might’ve wanted to see.”

I took two bottled waters from the fridge, tucked them under arm, collected my plate, and climbed the stairs to the cockpit. Stuart followed, and when he was up top, he looked around at the vastness of blue-green ocean to the starboard side and the gorgeous forested coastline, and he smiled. “Wow.”

I laughed and took my seat at the wheel, and he joined me on the long bench seat that spanned the width of the cockpit. The sun was bright and warm, the wind was a cool relief. “Not a bad view, huh?”

“Do you ever get sick of it?”

“Never.”

He smiled at that and bit into a prawn. “Oh my God. Did you just cook this?”

“Two minutes ago.” I took another mouthful and smiled as I chewed. Most people had the same reaction.

“It’s amazing.”

“It’s fresh prawns, caught this morning, and my aunt’s tropical salsa and dressing recipe. Takes all of three minutes.”

He waved his fork in the air while he chewed and swallowed. “Well, thank your aunt for me. This is heavenly.”

I chuckled. “I will. She’ll be pleased.”

He ate another bite and sighed, closing his eyes to the sunshine, and just enjoyed the warmth and the breeze and repeated this until his plate was empty. I could see him relax a fraction with every sigh, with every second he took to just breathe.

“Sleep okay?”

“So good,” he answered without opening his eyes. His head was back, his face basking in the sunshine, and it allowed me the opportunity to study him without being noticed. Yes, he really was good-looking. His jawline was an angle I could have measured with a set square. “Seriously, that bed and the rocking of the boat, and I was out like a light.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

He cracked one eye open. “So you sail the tropics for a living and you can cook like a chef, and people pay you a small fortune. Do you have the world’s best job?”

I grinned at him. “I think so. Others might disagree.”

He closed his eyes and smiled. “Others would be wrong.”

“Here, let me take your plate,” I said, standing up. He looked at me long enough to hand it over but soon closed his eyes again.

“I don’t know whether it’s best to bask in the sunshine or to take in the view,” he murmured.

“Both usually works,” I offered, disappearing below deck. It only took me a minute to load everything into the dishwasher, and when I went back on deck, he hadn’t moved. His legs were outstretched, crossed at the ankles, his arms resting on the backrest, his eyes still closed. He certainly wasn’t difficult to look at, and he seemed so much more agreeable now he’d rested a bit. Maybe even friendly. That crooked smile looked good on him.

I took my seat behind the wheel next to him and he slowly opened his eyes. “What’s on the agenda for this afternoon?”

“Much of the same, if that’s okay.”

“Very okay.”

“There’s an inlet with a small beach a few miles up that’s usually secluded. We can anchor there and swim if you want.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

“Well, I’m completely at your beck and call,” I added. “I’ve never done a one-on-one job before.”

He met my gaze and didn’t look away. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

He clearly had nerves of steel to look someone right in the eyes and ask them questions that could make things awkward. I got the feeling he used the same tactic to gain the upper hand in boardrooms or business meetings. I used to do the same thing. I stared right back at him, a smile tugging at my lips. “Not at all. Sorry your boyfriend bailed out though.”

He didn’t look away. “He wasn’t my boyfriend. Just an occasional acquaintance, if you get my meaning.” He sighed dramatically. “Apparently me paying for him to join me on a two-week cruise with all the sun, surf, and sex he could handle was crossing a line.”

I barked out a laugh. Okay, so maybe his game face was better than mine. “Sounds like Pretty Woman. Was he a hooker too?”

He snorted. “No, just a guy who…”

“You had a gentleman’s agreement with?”

“Sure. Let’s go with that.”

I chuckled, and he smiled. I wasn’t sure what to do with him for almost two weeks, but then I had an idea. “Because it’s just us, want me to show you how to sail?”

His eyes shot to mine, wide and full of spark. “Serious?”

“Why not.” I shrugged. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to put you to work or anything. Just the basics. I can’t fill in your time like your friend might have, but I can try.”