“Knock, knock,” I call through the screen door. There’s some shuffling down the hall by the kitchen before Captain comes around the corner.

“Come in, son!” He waves me through the door with his good arm, nearly swinging it into the wall.

“Should you be moving around so much? It’s only been a week.”

“Don’t you sound like Jane.” He leads me into the living room and flips on the TV. “Here to watch the game? They’re playing the Yankees tonight.”

“I’m not, but I’ll gladly watch the Red Sox steamroll New York.” I head for the kitchen. “Can I get you anything from the fridge?”

“A beer,” he says, the light banter of the pre-game show hosts filling the air as he finds ESPN.

I pause in the doorway. “Are you allowed to—”

“A BEER.”

“You got it!” I hustle over to the fridge, grab two cold ones, and book it back to the couch. “So, uh, how’s bedrest treating you?”

“Lousy. Man gets a little bump on the head and a broken arm and suddenly the world is reduced to your bed and bathroom. And then Jane’s been feeding me weird things that she promises will ‘help my recovery,’ whatever that means.” He looks at me. “It’s a broken arm, not the flu.”

“I’m sure that’s frustrating.” Actually, it sounds kinda nice. A day in bed with someone force-feeding you healthy meals? I could use a day like that after the seventy-hour week I just pulled.

“Sweet potatoes…”

“Sir?”

“She’s feeding me sweet potatoes!” he cries, flailing his good arm around. Unfortunately, it’s also the one with the beer.

“Sorry to hear that, sir,” I say, dodging droplets of Yuengling.

“And something weird called KEEN-wa.” He shudders, sending the lager sloshing around in its bottle again.

“Come on, quinoa’s not that bad. It’s a grain, or a seed…” I frown. “Maybe a vegetable?”

He scowls at me. “Whatever the hell it is, it’s nasty stuff. Don’t eat it, even if it supposedly heals broken bones.” He settles back down into the sofa with a grunt. “I’ll tell you, Koa, I miss the water already.”

“It’ll be there when you get back.”

“That’s what Jane keeps saying.” He sits up and snaps his head toward me. “How are things going? How’s our first week been?”

“That’s what I came by to talk to you about, sir.”

He shakes his head. “Enough of this “sir” business. You’re captain now.”

I shift in my seat. “Then what do you want me to call you?”

“Gerry?”

An awkward pause follows, filled only with the commentator’s score predications. There’s no way I can call this man by his given name.

“…or Captain’s fine.”

I relax. Captain I can do.

“Now, tell me about this week.”

And suddenly I’m tense again. “Our first week wasn’t great, s—Captain.”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ve pulled ten-hour days, hit all the right spots, coordinated your boats to not overfish an area. We’re just not getting the haul I thought we would, especially after that catch last week.”

Captain scratches his jaw. “I doubt it’s anything you’ve done. Maybe it’s more like what you can’t do?”

“Sir?” I say, slipping back to habit.

“Don’t go getting upset, I’m not saying your abilities are lacking, but you’re one man. A captain needs a first mate, or at least a sternman. Have you hired anyone?”

I spread my hands out. “Haven’t had time.”

“I get that, but this is important. You can’t do this yourself. You need someone to bounce ideas off of, keep you sharp, watch your back.” He purses his lips and narrows his eyes. “I’ll find someone for you.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I know what I’m looking for and I’ve got the time now, don’t I?”

I shrug. “Well, thanks. Have anyone in mind?”

“Not yet. Most men who fit the bill are employed or have boats of their own.” He sits back and takes a long pull on his Yuengling. “I think I’ll ask Jane when she gets back from the airport. She always knows about these kinds of things.”

“Expecting company?”

I’m startled when his entire face lights up. “I didn’t tell you? My granddaughter is coming up for the summer!”

“Oh, well, uh…” I struggle for the right response. By the way he’s beaming, it’s like the Pope’s stopping by for tea. “Congratulations?”

“It’s a bid deal since my daughter’s family doesn’t visit often—although we don’t get down to Manhattan much either. But anyway, my granddaughter’s coming up to help us while this arm’s broke, and she’ll be here three whole months. Though I’m sure a city gal like her will be bored in a few weeks.” He stops and studies me with a frown. “She’s about your age, I should think. Twenty-four?”

“Try adding three years.”

Captain shrugs it off. “That’s nothing. Well, hey, you’d be doing me a huge favor if you show her around town, introduce her to people. You know, show her that Portland’s a cool and hip place.”

I stifle my laugh. Bless the man, he’s trying. “I’d be happy to,” I say, though I’m not sure if I’ll be able to follow through on my promise. First of all, Portland is cool and hip, but I’m not into that scene. I’m more afraid of a bar full of hipsters than getting caught in a tropical storm. And second, I doubt I’d have anything to offer a twenty-something New Yorker. Last time I checked, “lobster fisherman” wasn’t trending.

He gives me a grateful look. “Thanks, sonny. You might have met her once or twice. She was up here about five years ago with her sister and parents.”

I definitely remember their last visit. The Raes are a hard family to forget. From what I’ve gathered over the years, the Boothe’s only child had met some monied, big-deal surgeon in Manhattan and never went back home to Rhode Island. Then the Boothes moved to Maine, widening the gap between them and their daughter. I guess I don’t really remember the parents, exactly, just the sleek Mercedes they drove up in when they visited the harbor to check out Captain’s “adorable boats.”

But I do remember their daughter. She was gorgeous. Light blonde hair, honey-brown eyes, legs for days. If that daughter’s coming to town, I’m more than happy to help.

“I think I remember her,” I say slowly. “Nancy or Nellie?”

Captain shakes his head. “You mean Nora, my eldest granddaughter. I’m talking about my sweet little Summer. She would’ve been halfway through college when you met her.”

I think back, trying to remember another daughter that day on the docks. Again, only images of the beautiful Nora float through my mind…

Oh, wait. Now I remember another girl, the one that was quietly hiding in the background as her family surveyed the boats. She was a skinny, gangly thing with too much eyeliner and too little personality.

I shift uncomfortably on the sofa. Can’t say I’m thrilled with getting stuck with Sleeping Beauty’s forgotten sister, but I’m also not worried anymore. I’ll just show her around a few hipster bars and then forget about her.

Captain grabs the remote and turns up the volume. “Game’s about to star—”

“Hello!” two voices cry in unison from the hallway.

Captain flings down the remote and jumps to his feet. He grabs his beer off the end table and shoves it into my free hand. “This is yours, son. I never took a sip!”

“Gerry?” Jane calls as she rounds the corner. She takes one look at the two beers in my hands and turns to her husband. “Are you doing something that I’d disapprove of?”

“And what might that be, dear?” he asks innocently, stepping forward to place a wet kiss on her cheek. “Just two men watching the game, that’s all.”

“I can smell the beer on your breath.”

Captain stares at her, then turns on his heel and strides down the hall. “Where’s that granddaughter of mine?”

I shrug as Jane focuses her displeasure on me. “He’s impossible to argue with, you said so yourself.”

The voices down the hall get louder, and soon I can pick out a lighter voice sprinkled in with Captain’s low tones. “…it was fine,” the young woman says as they round the corner. She has her arm on Captain’s as she smiles up at him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m here for you, remember?”

I know I only have a few moments before she spots me, so I take advantage of every second. Summer may be Sleeping Beauty’s forgotten sister, but she’s definitely related. Wavy, light blonde hair grazes her toned shoulders as she looks up at Captain, her golden-brown eyes crease as she smiles. They’re framed behind black-rimmed glasses, giving her an intelligent, down-to-earth vibe that I find ridiculously sexy. And her legs…

I drag my eyes up and down them, following the long curve of her thigh over her knee and down her sculpted calf. They go on forever in those frayed Daisy Dukes.

But the main difference between this version of Summer and the gangly teenager I remember is her body. Gone is the skinny, sullen girl, and in her place, an alluring woman with soft curves and beautiful features. Looks like Summer’s grown up.

“I’m just so happy to—” she stops as she notices me on the couch. Her eyes glance over me before widening. “Oh.”

Jane steps forward with a smile. “This is Koa Rendell, the captain of your grandpa’s fleet. And this is my granddaughter, Summer Rae.”

I stand up and slowly make my way toward her. She’s even prettier up close. High cheekbones, dark eyelashes, rose-pink lips. “Pleased to meet you,” I murmur, taking her soft hand in mine. Her neck turns bright pink as she mutters a quick hello. She snatches back her hand and ducks her head as the blush creeps up to her face.

“I’m glad you two are meeting,” Captain says, oblivious to the awkward tension in the air. “Koa’s kindly agreed to show you around town, my dear. Show you what Portland’s got to offer a young gal like yourself.”

“Him? Me?” Summer takes a nervous breath. “But I barely know him.”

“It’ll be fun,” Captain says, glancing between the two of us with growing unease. He shoots his wife a worried look. “Right?”

Jane doesn’t answer at first, she’s too busy watching her granddaughter die from embarrassment. Her eyes dart to me before focusing on her husband. “Oh, I think it’s a wonderful idea, Gerry.”

He claps me on the shoulder. “Told you so! You two can try out the new restaurants and bars, maybe even a concert or two? I think a Journey tribute band is coming to town in July.”

Summer’s face is firetruck red as she watches her summer evaporate before her eyes, and I’m right there with her. This woman’s smoking hot, but I’m not about to be saddled with a pampered city girl for the next three months. I’ve got more important things to do, like make our season’s quota and refurbish an eighteen-foot sailboat.

“I should be going,” I interrupt just as Captain mentions some flea market outside of town. Yeah, not interested. “I should run the numbers and see how much we need to make up this week.”

That snaps Captain out of playing Mr. Social Calendar. “Right, I’ll walk you out,” he mutters, motioning me toward the hall. “Tell me, are you using both nets and pots? Because maybe it’s time to…”

I glance over my shoulder at Summer one more time before we turn the corner. She’s still standing there, mouth slightly open, eyes wide as saucers, as we silently sum each other up. She looks nervous as hell at the thought of being glued to my hip all summer.

Don’t worry about it, honey. You get one day, and then I’m back on the water with the salty wind in my face and a knotted line in my hands.