“Come on!” Liam roars, the vein in his handsome forehead looking like it’s about to burst. He’s going to give himself an aneurysm if he doesn’t chill the hell out. Without a doubt he’s doing ninety percent of the work on this boat. The other ten percent is split between the rest of us and sheer dumb luck.
“Max,” he barks sharply, making the poor kid flinch. “I need that jib trimmed properly. Now. We’re losing speed out here.”
Oh god. Max looks like he’s about to burst into tears, his face crumpling under Liam’s harsh criticism. Just great.
“It’s okay, Max!” I shout over the wind, promptly getting a mouthful of salty seawater. “You’re doing great.”
Liam and Skipper Magee have a heated conversation and Liam takes the wheel from him, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes narrowed in fierce concentration. We’re so close to the port now.
Beside us, Alastair’s boat is matching us move for move.
“Do you want to win this fucking race or not?” Liam shouts, his voice harsh and commanding, and Max flinches like he’s been slapped.
I glare at Liam. What the hell is he playing at?
A crowd is gathered at the port, clapping and cheering us on. Sir Whitmore is front and center, his eyes locked on our boat, on Liam, on Max. Oh shit. If Max breaks down in front of his grandpaafter being berated by Liam . . . This is not good. This is so, so not good.
“Max, why don’t you take the wheel now?” I blurt out impulsively before I can second-guess myself. “Your grandfather does such amazing things for this charity—you deserve the honor of being the one to steer us across the finish line.”
I turn to Liam, my heart in my throat.Please don’t kill me.“Liam, let Max steer us in.”
The thunderous look on Liam’s face makes it clear what he thinks of that plan. “Are you out of your mind?”
Max’s crestfallen expression crumples even further. At this rate, the poor kid’s going to need therapy before we reach the shore.
Liam sees it too, and he looks at me, his expression torn between fury and what might be a flicker of human emotion.
I give him a pointed look, mouthing,Do it now.
“Hey . . . buddy,” he grits out, his tone strained but managing to soften. “Why don’t you come on up here and take the wheel? Show us what you’re made of.”
Max’s face lights up with a childlike excitement as he dashes to the helm, pushing Liam aside. His hands clamp onto the wheel with fierce determination.
Alastair’s boat isright there, but with Max steering, we’re losing ground. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My heart pounds so hard, I’m pretty sure the entire Isle of Wight can hear it.
And then, it’s over. Alastair’s boat pulls ahead, leaving us floundering in their wake.
Liam sighs and murmurs to me, “That little stunt just cost us the race.”
“Did I cost us the race?” I huff. “Or did I help us win something more valuable?” I nod toward Sir Whitmore, who’s cheering and waving at Max with a proud grin.
Liam follows my gaze, his jaw loosening slightly as realization dawns.
I elbow him in the ribs. “See? There are different ways to win. Smile and wave, Captain Sunshine.”
A faint smirk tugs at his annoyingly perfect lips. “Quite the strategist, aren’t you?” he drawls. “All right, Gemma. You’ve made your point.”
“Looks like Skipper Magee isn’t the only one you take orders from,” I taunt, unable to resist pushing his buttons.
If my jab affects him, he doesn’t show it. “You get off on bossing me around, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice deeper than I’ve ever heard it. “Makes you all hot and bothered, thinking you can put me in my place.”
I swallow hard, fighting the heat creeping up my cheeks. “Someone’s gotta keep that ego in check. Might as well be me.”
Liam studies me with that inscrutable look.
Finally, he speaks in that same low, controlled rumble. “Be very, very careful what you wish for, Gemma.”
CHAPTER 21
