Shipped(60)

“The only reason I took the job with Seaquest was because the life insurance money ran out, and I could work from home and wouldn’t have to be around people. At that point, I was completely numb. I tried to shut out the grief over my mom by closing myself off from the world. Do you want to know what finally changed things for me?”

“What?” My voice is barely above a whisper.

Dappled sunlight falls across his face, highlighting his flushed cheeks. “I met someone. She’s about five-six, golden brown hair, devastating smile. The kind that warms you from the inside out. And she made me so mad. Not two weeks after I started the job, she called to grill me about a story I posted on Facebook. She insisted I edit it because I didn’t get the wording right.”

He adopts a mock falsetto voice. “?‘It isn’t the “Panama Canal” cruise. It’s “Panama Canal and the Wonders of Azuero.” Fix it, please.’?”

My muscles go limp and my knees nearly buckle.

Because he’s talking about me.

“Finally, someone who wasn’t walking on eggshells. She actually snapped at me, and it was like she snapped me out of my fog. I may have been unnecessarily combative after that, just to get a rise out of her, but I started to feel again. Irritation, at first, but then more. After a while, I began getting out of the house. Seeing a therapist. Playing hockey. I adopted Winnie—best decision ever. I actually started looking forward to waking up in the morning.”

Graeme steps closer, but I’m glued to the spot. Heat sizzles through my veins when he reaches up to run his knuckles along my cheek.

“And staff meeting Thursdays? They became my favorite day of the week. Because I got to see her face.”

My heart is hammering and my lungs seize. The sound of guests approaching rumbles closer, but I don’t look away.

I swallow past the lump that’s lodged in my throat. “After this cruise, they’re my favorite day of the week too.” Reaching up, I run my fingers lightly along the hand that’s cupping my cheek. Graeme’s eyes widen and his lips part.

Gathering every ounce of resolve I can muster, I step away just as Nikolai and Dwight crest a nearby hill. We continue through the highlands, fastening our platonic coworker facades into place. But an unspoken understanding hangs in the space between us, heavy and undeniable…

This just went way past any bet.



* * *



When I step off our coach bus at the Tortoise Breeding Center back in downtown Puerto Ayora, the afternoon sun sears my eyes, making me squint.

Graeme’s earlier confession swirls in my brain alongside the jumbled feelings of my own heart. Since the highlands this morning, we haven’t exchanged much more than loaded glances. At lunch I got roped into a conversation with some of the passengers, and he was already sitting with Gustavo on the bus when we all boarded at the restaurant.

I need to focus on my proposal, but I can’t. I need to talk to someone. I need to talk to Walsh. I look around—she’s standing by the bus, texting.

“Hey.” I nudge her, and she nearly jumps out of her skin. I frown. “Are you okay?”

Slipping her phone into her back pocket, she waves me off. “Of course.”

“You’re not. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

I brace my hands on my hips. “Who is Bad News Bears? Is it Miles, that bartender who gave you his number a couple weeks ago?”

She makes an exasperated sound. “You’re like a dog with a bone. No, he’s just some guy I met. Super hot.”

“But?”

She rolls her eyes. “You know the type. Emotionally unavailable. Flaky. But did I mention super hot?”

I’m not buying it. The way she’s looking away and shifting her weight—it’s like that time she borrowed Mom’s car and brought it back with “just a scratch.” And the scratch ended up being the bumper dangling half off.

“Walsh—”

“Excuse me, Henley Evans?” A petite woman wearing a red Seaquest Adventures polo taps me on the shoulder.

“Oh, Analisa, hi.” After the highlands, I’d completely forgotten about our appointment. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

“Of course, it is my pleasure.” Her Spanish-accented voice is as warm as a sunbeam. Her dark hair swishes around her chin and she stretches up to give me an air kiss on the cheek. “I was delighted to hear that one of our marketing managers is visiting.” She peers behind me. “And you must be Graeme. I received your email last night.”

My mouth falls open as Graeme steps even with me.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says. Analisa air kisses him on the cheek, too.

Wait a second. It was my idea to contact Analisa. My meeting. A tick starts in my jaw and I curl and uncurl my toes inside my shoes.

Graeme’s smile falters when he catches my expression.

Analisa spreads her arms wide. “Well, this is exciting! Two office staff here on the same day. Are you ready for a private tour of the breeding center? My husband works there and I volunteer for their outreach events—”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” says Graeme. “But was this tour already scheduled for Henley?”

“Yes, is that okay?” says Analisa. “I thought it would be easiest to combine our meetings and give you both a tour at the same time. Then we can talk more about our operations in the region and I can answer any questions you may have.”