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“Things haven’t gotten any better between you two?”

I shake my head. “But at least they didn’t trade me because of it. Yet.”

“I was glad to hear you’re staying.” Tiny pleats form between her brows. “Wait. They still might trade you after the season’s over if you and my brother can’t see eye to eye?”

Quicksand is wrapping around my ankles and legs and is about to suck me under. “You know what? I’ve probably said too much already. It’d be best if you ask your brother about that.”

The remorse in her eyes quickly transforms into something that looks a whole hell of a lot like anger. She crosses her arms and taps her finger against her chin. “Still need a first mate? I’m available.”

Her fire kindles unwelcome heat inside me, and the answer bolts from me before I can haul it back. “Absolutely.”

Her smile returns to full-on dazzle mode. “Great. Nine thirty again?” My head bobs a yes on its own, and I don’t give a rat’s ass that she’s changed her mind out of spite for her bro. “See you then.” With a little wave, she turns and walks toward her Jeep. Mesmerized, I watch the way her body moves the entire way.

Oh shit. What have I done?

A bright beam of sun pokes at me through the porthole, and I roll over with a groan. My eyes are gritty, reminding me that I didn’t get much sleep last night. My brain was too busy turning over every possible way today could go wrong with Jackie here. My biggest fear? Harper will find out somehow, some way, and after my ass is chewed out by Coach, that ass is traded away.

I mentally give myself a swift kick to the head. What was I thinking?

“You weren’t thinking,” I growl to myself.

I brew myself a strong cup of java and stare out the window at the calm waters. The sight soothes my jangling nerves, and I check today’s weather report. Partly sunny with increasing clouds later today, so nothing to be wary of. The air’s a little chilly, but the kids should be bundled up, and they can always retreat to the salon if they get too cold. Having Jackie will allow me to concentrate more on the sailing and less on the kids’ comfort. Between the two of us, we’ve got this.

At 9:20 a.m., I’m on deck, and my head swivels constantly toward the parking lot, on the hunt for a broken-down dark blue Jeep. At 9:22 a.m., said Jeep rolls into the parking lot, complete with a shiny new tire on the front passenger side. I wanted to replace them all, but my mostly-absentee better judgment kicked in and decided that was overkill. Besides, the treads weren’t too bad. Judging by Jackie’s reaction the other day, I’m glad I held off.

A fresh cup of coffee in hand, I watch as she approaches. Her steps are quick, graceful, and they carry her small frame toward me in no time. When her gaze lands on me, she breaks out in a brilliant smile, and I straighten and smile back, my reactions unadulterated reflex. Excitement tap dances in my gut.

“Hey,” she greets, a little breathless when she reaches the Gail.

My cheeks tighten with my stupid widening grin. “Hey, yourself.”

Jackie peruses the Gail. “She looks shipshape and ready to sail, Captain Colby … or whatever it is sailors say when they’re about to take their boats out.”

“Ready to get underway,” I correct her teasingly, “but we’ll need to cast off first. Can’t do that until the kiddos are aboard.” She passes me her backpack, which I drop onto the deck before holding out my hand to help her climb aboard. A frisson of triumph snakes its way up my spine when she accepts my help without so much as a protesting peep. When she lands beside me, that cookies-and-lemons-and-flowers fragrance of hers drifts toward me, and parts of my body come to attention.

What did I say earlier about this being a supremely bad idea? Not that I plan to get any closer to that scent—nor does she want me to—but it’s going to torment me the entire time she’s here. I get what I deserve.

Retrieving my head from the cloud of perfume or shampoo or whatever the hell it is she wears that drives me nuts, I think to ask, “Your brother doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

Sea-glass-green eyes widen. “Of course not! It’s our secret, remember? Unless you told him.”

I rock backward. “Me? Hell no! I don’t want my ass kicked.”

“I highly doubt he could beat you,” she hmphs, and no lie, I thrum with pride. Her mouth turns down. “He could get you kicked off the team, though, huh?”

Just like that, the happy beats come to a screeching halt, and I grouse, “Thanks for the reminder.” Her expression crumples, and I panic. I’m an idiot! In my bid to wipe that crestfallen look from her face, I employ my fallback and crack a joke. “And just when I was about to name you executive officer. Looks like your new title is ‘deckhand.’”

She places her small hand on my bicep. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.” She doesn’t smile, but she’s not looking quite as stricken either.

I glance down at where her hand rests. “If you’re trying to get out of your demotion, it’s too late.”

Her fingers fall away, and I immediately miss the warmth of her touch. “Well,” she sighs, “I guess I’ll just have to work harder than the other deck people around here so I can be reinstated.” She pauses to stroke her chin. “Oh wait. You don’t have any other deck people.”

I fight to hold back a laugh. “Deck people? Sounds like a band name. The correct term is crew.”

“Right. I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the crew. All zero of them.”

I lean in and capture her eyes with mine, trying for all the world to look deadly serious. “Have you heard what happens to sassy sailors? They get tossed overboard. And the water’s a little chilly today.”