“He’ssomething,all right,” Caleb says. “I think he’s under a lot of pressure. Maybe in a little over his head.”
“What kind of pressure?” I ask.
“I think I speak for the whole crew when I say that yachting is one thing, but working a private ship is another animal entirely. My employers go through crew members so quickly that everyone’s terrified to work for them. And you wouldn’t believe the drama that goes on.”
“Among the crew?”
“Between theguests,”he stresses, and I can’t help but think of my soon-to-be in laws. “Screaming matches, drunken near overboards?—"
“Hookups with the crew?”
Caleb scoffs.
“Not if they want to keep their jobs. But don’t even get me started on the requests. Last trip, we had a guest demand mid-journey that we fly in organic marcona almonds she didn’t even touch. Another would only drink water out of a plastic bottle that was poured in front of her in case it waspoisoned.I’m not sure what it is, but there’s something about yachting that puts people on their worst behavior.”
“I’m going to go with ridiculous amounts of money and ambiguous maritime laws.”
Caleb shrugs—an impressive feat while he’s excavating urchin parts.
“Your guess is as good as mine. Seriously, some days I feel more like a babysitter than part of the crew.”
He shakes his head.
“Shit—I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
“Violation of the pirate’s code?” I ask, and Caleb flashes me another shameless smile.
“Oh, most definitely. If the captain hears about it, I’ll be waving to you from Davy Jones’ Locker.”
“Well, luckily for you,” I tell him, “I’m a steel trap. And what else are perfect strangers good for? Besides, obviously, makeshift foot surgery.”
But I can tell Caleb’s a little on-edge. I guess the same thingbetween us that made me spill my depressing guts got ahold of him, too.
“Speaking of,” Caleb grabs the Samaroli and pours a splash over my foot before giving my calf a gentle squeeze, “you’re officially urchin free.”
“Really?” I ask hopefully.
He lifts his hand to show me the excised spines and I grimace. One of them is as long as my fingernail.
“Really, really. Was that so bad?”
“Yes,” I tell him emphatically, but the adorable way his brow creases when he smiles is already melting away the memory of the pain.
“The pain should be gone in an hour as long as you don’t go too hard on it,” he instructs. “Might want to take a rain check on any long runs, dancing…”
“My friend is pregnant,” I interrupt him. “The only excitement we’ll be getting up to tonight is the buffet.”
Caleb looks towards the near-derelict excuse for a hotel.
“You might want to take a raincheck on that too. I don’t want to get any phone calls about you choking on a fish bone.”
“Maybe you should escort me, just to be safe,” I joke, then reel it in as soon as I remember I’m talking to a cover boy who knows me only as a flailing idiot. He pauses and inhales sharply, the smile on his face twisting into an awkward line.
“Trust me, I’d love to,” he says. “But I’m chained to the ship tonight. Barely escaped long enough for this run.”
Caleb stares at me a little too long, and I realize, with a flutter in my stomach, that his golden-brown hand still hasn’t left my calf.
“Will you be in town long?” he asks.
