CHAPTER 20
TATE
“That was incredible!” Riley exclaims. The teenager’s face is flushed with excitement as he helps me tie off the line. We just got back from a double-handed sail on the practice dinghy. It was windier than anticipated today, so we caught some major speed. Also ended up in the bay more times than I would’ve liked, but you’ve got to be prepared for that in competitive racing. That’s why I love it so much. Always guaranteed a wild ride.
“I can’t believe how fast we were going,” the kid gushes.
“That was awesome,” I agree, hopping onto the pier.
“When can we take the Optimist out?”
I snicker. “Yeah, hold your horses, kid. Not until you have a few more lessons under your belt.” The boat we used today is far easier to handle. She’s stable and basically unsinkable, whereas the Optimist dinghy capsizes easily.
“It’s hard to right the Optimist,” I remind him.
Riley’s quick to protest. “I can handle it.”
I study him for a moment. He looks back hopefully, shoving his blond shoulder-length surfer-boy hair behind his ear.
I shake my head. “No. You can’t. Not yet. But soon.”
“I’m telling Evan,” he threatens with an evil grin. “I’ll turn on the waterworks and cry about how sad I am that my Big Brother’s best friend is depriving me of my dream of racing on an Optimist.”
I respond with a loud snort. The kid’s got balls, I’ll give him that. Riley is the product of the soul-searching journey of reformation Evan decided to embark on a while ago. In other words, Evan needed to prove to Genevieve he was willing to stop being a boozing, brawling jackass and grow the fuck up. One way he did that was by enrolling in the local Big Brother program. He totally lucked out with Riley, who’s a great kid.
“All right,” I tell him. “Next lesson, we’ll practice positioning at different angles, teach you some racing tactics. There’re a couple different strategies you can use when rounding marks. And the next race you enter, don’t partner with Evan. He’s lousy.”
Riley hoots. “No shit.”
“If you’re doing a double-handed race and need a partner, hit me up. I mean it—drop the zero and get with the hero.” I wink at him.
I don’t offer myself up like that to just anyone, but I like Riley. I like his enthusiasm. A lot of these kids who take dinghy lessons just want to go fast on the water. They don’t want to think too deeply about the ins and outs of sailing. But Riley’s different. He’s thirsty for knowledge.
I clap him on the back. My favorite part of this job is working with the kids. The teens. Adults are fun too, but their eyes don’t light up the same way.
“I’ll see you next week.”
“Cool. Later, Tate.”
He dashes off, and I head back in the direction from which we came to double-check the boat is securely moored, as the wind’s still blowing hard. Sometimes it sucks working on other people’s boats; I’m always scared I’ll fuck something up and be on the hook for it.
In the yacht club’s employee quarters, I strip out of my damp uniform and change into my street clothes. A few minutes later, I cross the parking lot toward my Jeep, checking my phone while I walk. I find a couple messages from the twins. And one from Cassie.
Cassie: You, me, a bed covered in rose petals, and my virginity on a silver platter?
I bust out laughing. I swear, this chick … Since the night we agreed to the fling, she’s been persistently trying to get me to bang her.
Me: No.
She instantly replies.
Cassie: You’re mean.
Me: Just taking it slow. Window time later?
Cassie: Can’t. You took too long to reply to my message, so I made plans with Joy. We’re going to see a band at the Rip Tide. It’ll probably be past your bedtime when I’m back.
Me: Text me anyway. Maybe I’ll still be up.
Cassie: Only if you take the V-card.
Me: Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a one-track mind, ginger?
Cassie: Anyone ever tell you you’re a tease?
Me: Who’s teasing? I’m pretty sure I made you come twice last night.
Cassie: I was faking it, Gate.
I grin at the phone and toss it on the passenger seat, then start the car. I can’t believe I’m the one depriving someone of sex. Me, of all people. But despite Cassie’s insistence that we don’t need to make a big deal out of it, I feel like I should do something for her first time. Something special. Maybe not rose petals, but certainly not a quick bang while her family is right down the hall. That just feels wrong. It’s all I would’ve been able to offer her this week, though. I’ve had early mornings, a packed sailing schedule, and late shifts at the dealership. Which means I’m always exhausted by the time I scale her wall and tumble through her window for an hour or so of mutual orgasms. Exhaustion is not conducive to good sex, and since I’m determined to make sure her first time is beyond good, I’ve been trying to stall her until the weekend.
Unbeknownst to Cassie, I took Saturday off. I’m planning to take her out on the water for the day. Anchor at my favorite cove. Spend the night …
My heart beats faster, and my palms suddenly feel slick around the steering wheel. Jeez. You’d think I was the virgin here.
At the Jackson house, I start prepping dinner. I throw a couple baked potatoes in the oven, then pop outside to turn on the barbecue. I’m doing shrimp skewers on the grill tonight. It’s too bad Cassie’s out with Joy. Would’ve been nice to cook dinner for her.
I falter, wondering where that thought came from. Cook dinner for her? I’m pretty sure I’ve never made dinner for a woman other than my mother. I force myself not to overthink it, though.
While the barbecue’s heating up, I head to the dock to ensure the boats are secure because it’s still so windy out. Then I walk back up to the house, reaching it just as Cassie’s mother appears around the side of their house. She’s clad in a long summer dress with sunglasses atop her head.
“Hi.” I lift my hand in a wave. Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken this long for our paths to cross. It’s been days since she arrived in town, but it seems she spends most of her time inside the house. Or shopping in Charleston, according to Cassie.
She startles at the sight of me. Eyes widening.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” I call out. “I’m Tate. I’m housesitting for the Jacksons. And I’m friends with your daughter.”
Cassie’s mom still hasn’t spoken. Just keeps staring at me. I note the resemblance between her and Cassie, in their wide-set brown eyes and red hair, but while Cassie has a rounder face, her mother’s is narrower, giving off a different vibe. Colder. Or maybe that’s her personality.
She shakes herself out of her surprise and offers a smile far warmer than I expect. “Oh hello. I’m sorry. I was in my head. I’m Victoria.” She stretches out an arm. “You can call me Tori.”
I stride forward to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“How long are you housesitting for?” Tori asks, her appreciative gaze still fixed on me.
Yeah. She’s totally checking me out. Which is awkward as fuck, considering I’m hooking up with her daughter. “Gil and Shirley return Labor Day weekend, so I still have another month here.”
“Lucky you.”
“Yeah, it’s not a bad gig,” I admit. “It’s my fourth summer doing it. I look forward to it every year now.”
The Jacksons don’t pay me much while I’m here—I’m responsible for my own food, gas, all the usual expenses—but I don’t do it for the money. It’s worth it to get out of my parents’ house for a couple months. Living at home at the age of twenty-three cramps my style sometimes, but at the moment it’s convenient, allowing me to save more money. Save up enough and eventually I can finance a boat that I’ll probably call home.
“Anyway, I’ve got dinner going, so I need to check on it. Have a good evening, Mrs. Tanner.”
“Tori,” she corrects.
“Tori,” I repeat clumsily.
She smiles. “It was nice to meet you, Tate. Don’t be a stranger.”
Inside, I find a missed call from Gil Jackson. Frowning, I quickly do the math, then realize it’s not a cause for concern. With the time difference, he’s sixteen hours ahead of me, making it 9 A.M. in Auckland.
I check on the baked potatoes, then return Gil’s call.
“Hey, Gil,” I say after he picks up. “Sorry I missed your call. I was outside chatting with the neighbor.”
“Oh, how is Lydia?”
“She’s good. But I was talking to her daughter. Tori?”
“You mean Victoria Tanner?” he asks in amusement.
“She said to call her Tori.”
His laughter, a deep baritone, sounds in my ear. “Oh boy. I think someone has a crush on you,” Gil jokes.
“No,” I groan. “Don’t even kid about that. Anyway, what’s up? Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great here. I wanted to check in and see how things are going on your end, discuss a couple matters. We haven’t touched base in a few days.”
“All good here too,” I assure him. “I was just down at the dock securing the boats. The wind was really gusting on the bay today, and it’s supposed to storm tonight.”
“Thank you. Have you taken the Lightning out yet?”
My dick actually twitches. “What? Oh. No. I haven’t even touched her.”
“Are you crazy? Take her out for a ride!”
“Are you sure?” I gulp. “I mean, she’s super expensive.” Alarmingly expensive. The idea of anything happening to her makes me nauseous.
“Tate. Son. You can handle a boat better than anyone I know. Take her out. Enjoy yourself. I promise you, it’s a thrill like nothing you’ve ever experienced.”
I don’t doubt it.
“In fact,” he says, “your sailing expertise is the other reason I called.”
I crinkle my forehead. “How’s that?”
“Shirley and I just closed on a house down here.”
“You did? Congratulations.” My brain is scrambling to connect those two dots. What my sailing ability has to do with them purchasing a house in New Zealand. “Are you leaving the Bay?”
“No, no, but we will be splitting our time going forward. Half the year in Auckland, the other half in Avalon Bay. Shirley loves it down here, and the house we found is breathtaking. It’s on a bluff overlooking the ocean. Just magnificent. We want to do some sailing while we’re here. Cross the Tasman to Australia, explore the Gold Coast, see the Great Barrier Reef. Which means I need someone to bring the Surely Perfect over.”
I’m startled. My gaze immediately travels beyond the French doors to the sailboat at the dock before I remember she’s not the boat in question. The Surely Perfect is at the yacht club. And he wants someone to sail her?
“Bring her over?” I echo. “You mean to New Zealand?”
“Yes. Gotta hire someone to sail her. Shirley and I were discussing it last night, and she says, why not Tate, he has his captain’s license. And I thought about it and realized, yes, why not? That boy could handle a solo voyage in his sleep.”
I feel winded. I flop onto a kitchen stool, shrimp skewers forgotten on the counter. “I don’t know about in my sleep,” I say slowly. “But … yeah, I could probably manage it. How long would a journey like that take?” I’m playing it cool, but this would be a massive undertaking.
“It’s a long way, no doubt. You’d be leaving from the Port of Miami, and according to the folks I consulted, if you’re averaging eight to ten knots and the weather permits, you could do it in two months—I would help you chart out a course that makes the most sense for you. The wife and I are returning to the Bay next month and we’ll be here through the holidays. Planning to return to Auckland in January,” Gil continues, “which means we’d need her down here by New Year’s. So, realistically, you could set sail in September if you wanted. Take three months. Four, even. It’s entirely up to you.”
I shake my head, dazed. “Are you serious right now?” I demand.
He laughs. “Quite serious. And, of course, you’ll be paid accordingly.” He proceeds to name a sum that makes my head spin. It’s enough to put a down payment on a sailboat of my own. Not a Hallberg-Rassy, but definitely something higher end.
“You’ll also have a credit card for expenses, so if you need to restock any supplies when you make port, it’ll all be covered. Your only concern will be getting our girl from point A to point B.”
“Can I think about it?” Obviously, I want nothing more than to shout out yes! But I can’t just drop my entire life and sail to New Zealand. I have a job, responsibilities. Especially to my family. I hate letting Dad down. And I literally just agreed to run the dealership alone so my parents can take September off.
“Take your time,” Gil says. “You can let me know the weekend we get back. If it’s a no, that still leaves us plenty of time to hire somebody else. There’s a company we can use that hooks you up with a captain. But we’d prefer to see you do it. I know you’ve always wanted to do a major crossing, and, selfishly, I’d rather pay someone I like and trust than a complete stranger.”
“Wow. Thank you, Gil. I mean it. I really appreciate the opportunity.”
“Of course, son. And don’t forget to take the Lightning out for a spin.” He chuckles. “You’ll thank me for it later.”