Snark and a bad ’tude, like she wouldn’t hesitate to kick someone’s ass if she needed to. Didn’t get hotter than that. He crouched next to her so that he was level with her face, not that he could see it since it was still pressed to her legs. “You’re not supposed to—”

“—moor here,” she said, very carefully not moving a single inch. “Yes, you ever-so-helpfully mentioned that yesterday.”

“I was going to say you’re not supposed to look down when you’re seasick. It makes it worse.”

“Oh.” She hesitated and then turned her head to look at him. “And you’re not supposed to be nice when I’m not. But thanks—oh crap. Oh shit,” she whispered miserably as the boat rocked.

Jacob instinctively reached out and rubbed a hand over her back. “Have you tried Dramamine?”

“Yes. It doesn’t work. I’m getting a patch today.”

“That’ll help,” he said.

She nodded and sat up. “I’m sorry I’m here. I just need to stay docked for the day, okay? I know the cabin’s for sale and no one lives there, so I don’t see a problem with that.”

Other than she was getting off not having to pay the fees, which he suspected she couldn’t afford. “Just so you know, the cabin’s no longer empty,” he said, fully intending to also say that she could keep her boat on his dock as long as she needed.

But she made a sound that might have been a snort of laughter or a sob. A little terrified it was the latter, he rose to his full height just as she gasped, and then moaned, and…and threw up.

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An inch from his shoes.

Welcome home, he thought, reaching for her, supporting her with one arm while with the other he tried to gather her hair. Problem was, she had a lot of it, and more than a few of the silky strands stuck stubbornly to the stubble on his jaw as she tried to weakly shove clear of him.

“So much for improving on your first impression of me,” she gasped. “Looks like you were lucky enough to draw the short straw on my crazy. Again.”

“Shh.” Her skin was waxy and green, so he held on to her, afraid she’d slide overboard and drown. “Give yourself a minute,” he said.

She sighed miserably and didn’t look at him. “How many Dramamine do you think it’d take to just kill me?” she asked.

Jacob couldn’t make a return quip, not on that. Not since just about every time he closed his eyes these days all he could see was Brett’s coffin being lowered into the ground.

“I’m so sorry.” She sighed and straightened, still looking wobbly. “But hey, it must be your lucky day. I missed your shoes. Don’t worry. I’ll clean this up and be gone in no time.”

If only he believed that. “Wait here,” he said. He left the boat and strode to the cabin to get her some water and also to find a hose to help her clean up.

But when he got outside again, she and her boat were gone.

Which left nothing to distract him from what he had to do today, and at the thought, the unwelcome nerves returned with a vengeance, tap-dancing in his belly again.

She’d thrown up on the hot guy. Good Lord, Sophie thought weakly as she quickly cleaned up and then maneuvered the boat as far from the little cabin as she could get.

Easier said than done.

They’d had a violent summer storm over the past few days, which had made her seasickness so much worse. Especially since she’d had to move around, aka sneak around, to find places to moor.

The waves were larger than she’d ever navigated before. Feeling naked without a seat belt, she wrapped her ankle around the seat base so she wouldn’t go flying out.

Because that would be more embarrassing than what had just happened. If that was even possible.

The problem was that she was crap at driving the boat. It was nothing like a car. When she steered, it didn’t immediately react, and that guaranteed that she was always in the middle of correcting her previous maneuver. Compounding the problem was that because of the way the wind hit the water, she had to steer into the waves, riding up and over them just as the wave crested.

Not good. Several times The Lucas became airborne for a moment before slamming down, rattling her teeth. She did her best to battle her way through the brutal onslaught of choppy water, but every time she hit a bump, the shock of it jerked her hand on the throttle, speeding her up, slowing her down…

And in five seconds she was nauseous again.

None of which mattered right now because hello, she’d thrown up on Hottie Lake Patrol Guy.




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