Page 368 of Manhattan Bossholes

I frowned. Was she nervous?

Olivia saw me watching her. “How long have you had this boat? Is this a new hobby?”

“I bought it a few years ago. But I’ve been sailing since I was a boy. My mum’s da was a fisherman.” I smiled into the wind. There really was nothing like being out on the water. “Are you feeling queasy? It’ll calm down once we’re out there,” I assured Olivia.

“No, I…my parents.” She grimaced. “I used to love boats.”

Shit. I felt like a fucking idiot. She’d told me her parents had died in a boating accident.

“We can turn back,” I said, quietly enough that Catie couldn’t hear. “I’ll make up an excuse.”

“No,” Olivia said stubbornly. “I’ve been on boats since. One of the families I nannied for loved yachts. If I do it often enough, then it won’t…” She tilted up her chin. “I want to do this.”

I felt a fierce swell of affection for her. I’d always had a weakness for brave women.

“Here,” I said, beckoning Olivia over to me. “I’m going to show you how to steer. You’ll feel better if you’re in control.”

I scooted back, so Olivia could sit in front of me. “You want to straddle the wheel and look forward.”

She did as I instructed, and I realized that an unintentional benefit of my plan was essentially having Olivia in my lap. She was short enough I could see over the top of her head, with her curls brushing against my lips.

“See how my arm is on top of the wheel? Slip your hand under mine. I’ll guide you.”

She nodded, all focus, and did as I said.

I wonder if she’d be this sweetly trusting in bed? a traitorous part of me wondered. Or would she be stubborn and fiery, fighting me every inch of the way?

I crushed both thoughts, focusing on instructing Olivia so she could feel comfortable again. “Keep it slow and steady. The key is small, gentle movements. A delicate touch goes a long way.”

“Like sex,” Olivia said, and then she clapped her free hand to her mouth. “Forget I said that.”

Not a chance in hell, I thought.

I cleared my throat. “Any questions so far?”

“Yes. Is it a problem that I can barely see over the wheel? What if I hit something?”

I laughed and continued explaining the ins and outs of sailing to Olivia until she started to relax. When we were out on the water, I cut the engine. Olivia even steered for a bit by herself, although I stayed seated behind her, ready to take over if she needed help.

When she handed the wheel back to me, she looked over her shoulder with an elated grin. “That was amazing.”

Her face was just inches from mine, her cheeks flushed and her eyes full of life. I had the sudden urge to just lean forward and kiss her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

And that scared the shit out of me.

I leaned back to give her room to stand up. “Can you help me with the sails? Then we can ask if Catie wants to learn how to steer.” I winked. “Don’t worry, she won’t get to try it by herself for a few years yet.”

“Sure.” She stood and moved away, spreading her arms in an easy stretch as the wind whipped her hair. It looked like she was hugging the world. “Ah, this is good. Days like this, I remember why this is the best job in the world.”

“Is it, though?” I blurted on impulse. “Even when people aren’t...well…firing you, you still have to deal with challenging parents. You don’t get to stay in one place, or have a home of your own.”

“I have a home,” Olivia protested.

“If you lived there all the time, not just between jobs, would it be enough?” I asked.

She didn’t answer, but the look on her face told me it wouldn’t.

“If you don’t want to put down roots there, it’s not a home,” I said.