Lovewrecked - Karina Halle Page 0,30

the dance floor and closed her eyes, swaying to the music by herself, lonesome among a sea of couples.

Don’t know why that sight affected me so much, but it did.

I went back out there and took her into my arms before she could say anything.

I’m glad I did too, because she was toasted and leaning into me like deadweight.

So I held onto her, both because I needed to keep her up, and because I liked holding her. She was so soft and warm and tender that it moved something deep inside of me, and no, it wasn’t my dick. Although I can’t say I wasn’t hard as hell. Thankfully, she was too drunk to notice. I don’t even think she remembers any of this.

After the dance, I knew the right thing to do would be to get her to bed.

Daisy had other ideas though.

She had bolted from the dance floor in the backyard and run all the way down the beach to the water.

“Come skinny-dipping with me!” she cried out, trying to undo the tie at the back of her neck. I hate to admit that I was a complete pig and just stood there, watching her struggle, hoping that the top would fall loose and those gorgeous tits of hers would be on display.

But her breasts stayed covered and she gave up. Probably for the best. Not sure what I would have done if I was presented with them. I’m getting hard just thinking about them right now.

“Tai?” Richard asks, making me jump in my seat.

“What?” I say, clearing my throat, instinctively about to get to my feet and look at the bow, but my hard-on makes me stay put.

Richard watches me carefully, then glances over at Daisy who is sipping her wine and still staring at the waves, the sky a splash of purples and pinks. Gorgeous sunset, infuriatingly gorgeous girl.

He looks back to me, brow raised. “I was saying, I wonder about our VMG.”

Right.

VMG is Velocity Made Good, a nautical measure of how fast you’re going in the actual direction of your waypoint based on speed, distance to target, and a little trigonometry. Richard loves the trigonometry part.

“It’s about 0.5 at the moment,” I tell him, which isn’t great. It doesn’t particularly matter if you’re rocketing at eight knots heading west if your destination is east. At the moment, the wind is trying to push us away from Fiji, which means just after dinner we had to do some course correcting. Hopefully the winds will switch when a new front comes in. And hopefully that front isn’t too bad.

I limit myself to one glass of wine, even though what I really want is a highball of whisky, maybe with a squeeze of lime. I need to stay sharp, especially if I’m going to be waking up at 3 a.m.

With Daisy.

Yes, I’ll need to be especially sharp for that.

The alarm goes off at 2:45 a.m.

I can’t remember the last time I had to get up at this hour, maybe when Holly and I sailed to Marlborough Sound.

The thought of my ex-wife makes my brain stutter. I’m relieved that I don’t seem to have any complicated feelings along with that thought, after all it’s been a few years since our divorce. It’s just an odd feeling sometimes to have so many memories wrapped up with one person, a person that’s no longer part of your life. It’s unfair. If they don’t exist in your life, they shouldn’t exist in your memories.

But life isn’t like that, is it?

I get out of bed before my thoughts get any darker. It doesn’t help that I had the world’s most uncomfortable sleep. Even with earplugs in, which I hate, it was hard not to listen to Lacey and Richard talking as they did their night shift. Plus the couch is awful to sleep on, too short for me, and my lower back is already sore.

No wonder I’m a fucking grump, I think as I head over to the stove to boil water for the coffee. Complain, complain, complain.

While the water is boiling, I stick my head up top.

“Good morning,” I say to Richard and Lacey, who are in each other’s arms. Lacey is asleep, snoring, Richard has one hand on the steering wheel, barely holding on.

“Oh thank god,” Richard says softly. “I was afraid I couldn’t hold out any longer. I never even stayed up this late at university.”

That doesn’t surprise me in the least.

“Go to sleep,” I tell him. “You’re officially being