Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Galvin took another sip, set the mug down, and cleared her throat. “Do you need a menu?”
“Nah,” Sail said, shaking his head. “I know what I want.”
Galvin pulled the pad from the of her apron and motioned for him to order.
“Three eggs, over easy. Sausage and bacon.”
“Home fries?”
“No thanks. I’m working later and trying to make it to lunch. If I eat carbs, I want to eat again in two hours. If I’m out on a tour, it doesn’t look too good if the guide is stuffing his face with the snacks meant for the guests.”
“Okay.”
Galvin didn’t entertain his reasoning. She ripped the chit from the pad and stuck it on the wheel for the cook, and then left Sail to sit there. Instead of asking her for a Coke, he got up, went around the counter, and got his own.
“What are you doing?” Galvin ran back to where he was. She took the glass from him and finished filling it. “Please go sit.”
Before he turned away, he saw her wipe at her face.
“Hey,” Sail said softly, trying to get her attention. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you please go sit?”
He did as she asked but was confused. His family owned the restaurant. Surely, she knew he was allowed to go behind the counter and help himself. Sail didn’t get a chance to explain himself—if that was the issue—because she refused to look at him.
Sail counted the seconds until the line cook yelled, “Order up.”
Galvin added the necessary garnishes and carried Sail’s plate to him.
“Hey,” he said as his hand held her wrist. Their eyes met. He told himself if she flinched or moved in the slightest, he’d let go. But right now, he enjoyed the way his fingers felt against her skin. Mostly, he could feel her pulse increase.
Slowly, her eyes met his. Her eyelids fluttered, but her orbs screamed torment. Sail gently let go of her wrist, but left his hand near hers, enjoying the pull he felt toward her. “What’s wrong?”
Galvin swallowed hard. “I need this job,” she said in a hushed tone.
“And you think I’m somehow jeopardizing it by getting my own drink?”
She nodded and her eyes shifted away. Sail considered pulling her chin toward him but resisted. As much as he loved flirting with her, he wasn’t about to make her uncomfortable.
“Look, no one is going to get into trouble if I get my own drink. My parents aren’t those kinds of people. But if it makes you more comfortable with me being here, I won’t do it again.” Sail tilted his head, hoping to catch her gaze.
He did.
She smiled shyly and gave him the tiniest of head nods.
“Now that we have that settled, why are you working this early ass shift?”
“Penny had an appointment this morning and asked if I could open for her.”
“You must be tired.”
Galvin shrugged. “I’ll take all the extra shifts I can get right now.”
Sail wanted to continue their chat while he ate but the chime over the door sounded, and the morning rush began. He finished his breakfast, left enough money to cover the bill and a generous tip, and headed to work. As he passed by Galvin on her way out, he said, “I’ll see you later,” and subtly touched her hip with his fingers.
Spencer “Speed” Albright, nicknamed for his on the water antics when it came to this jet-ski, and Arthur Wilson, who went by Wilson and preferred the one named moniker above all else, were already on the tour boat when Sail arrived at work. Both men were long time employees of Blue Lobster Adventures, and best friends to Sail’s older brother, Dune.
Ana, who worked the ticket booth, followed him down the dock, rattling off how many tours they had booked for the day. Sail grumbled as he looked at the sky and shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to be caught in a rainstorm and he felt deep in his bones it was bound to happen.
“Are we really doing this?” he asked as he boarded.
“Boss says so,” Speed said while Wilson mumbled the same sentiments Sail felt.
“I’ll watch the radar,” Ana added. “If the storm moves in faster than predicted, I’ll radio and let you know to head back.”
“Dune will be pissed,” Speed said. “He hates losing money.”
Sail pointed to the sky. “People hate being on the water when it’s storming. There’s nothing worse than people panicking while we’re in the middle of the ocean.”
“I do love me a good hurricane,” Wilson said. Sail was about to call him out on the bullshit statement but remembered that a hurricane in Seaport was nothing like one in Miami. Down south, they were devastating. Ruining homes, businesses, and livelihoods. Sail loved being in Miami because it was always warm, and he could sail whenever he wanted. But when it was storm season, he had to pay attention to everything. One wind shift, and he could easily be washed out to see.