Page 35 of Forget Me Not

When I saw her this morning, I couldn’t stop my dick from hardening any more than I could stop Hope’s Grace from breaking down. She blushed and that little moment in the bathroom came full circle. What I wanted to do to her. How I wanted to punish her for being so fucking stubborn.

She’s becoming a damned nuisance.

Okay, she’s not bad. In fact, she’s fucking fascinating, which is the problem.

And also her pretty smile and perfect ass.

If she were anyone else, it would be so easy to lose myself in her for the next few weeks. Spend my days forgetting my problems, buried in the most beautiful woman I’ve ever fucking seen.

Unfortunately, I don’t think Nova is the type to be down for a summer fling and this strange, budding obsession has already gone too far.

I was looking for her this morning when I stopped in for breakfast at the restaurant. Fucking looking for her. I don’t do that.

Not to mention, come September first, I’m on the first flight to Alaska and Port Nova will just be another stop on my list.

Carry Brandt, a guy I used to run trawlers with way back in the day, somehow managed to end up in the same bar in Boston I was, some sixth months ago. Told me about the opportunity to man a crabbing vessel for the upcoming king crab season. I immediately shut him down. I prefer to fish alone and I’ve heard stories of the men who fish the king crab up in the Bering Sea. It’s dangerous, probably one of the roughest jobs you can get in my field.

Then . . . as I always do, I started to get bored.

I spoke to him the next month and finally, I agreed when I started to get that itchy feeling to get fuck out of Maine.

In less than two months, I’ll be the captain of the Stargazer—a crabber with seven guys underneath me.

I’ve never been in charge of people. I don’t even know if I’m capable, but . . . if it gets me out of Maine, I’m willing to give it a try.

Does anyone even live in Alaska?

I always thought the residents of the cold, unforgiving North had to be a myth, but I guess I was wrong.

King crab. Don’t know shit about them. Crabbing is rougher, but a challenge will be nice. I like the hard jobs no one else wants to do. The ones that beat you up and make you really appreciate going to bed at night. The adrenaline coursing through my veins, the spray of the sea, and the knowledge that you really don’t know where you could end up tomorrow?

Fuck, sign me up.

Not to mention, the pay is top tier in my line of work. I could put it toward a bigger boat. Save up enough money to fish lobster in the summer and crab in the winter.

And it will get me the hell out of here. I’ve been feeling stuck, like I’m running in place the last couple months. I’ve never stayed in one place too long and I’ve been in Maine two years, now. It’s time to move on and as rough as the Bering Sea sounds, it might be just what I need.

Not everyone wants the fucking American dream. White picket fence, two and a half kids, and the same woman every night for the rest of your life nagging you about not taking out the garbage or working too much, even though the bills have to get paid, somehow.

No. Fuck that. That’s not me.

I’ve seen the world and all it has to offer and the one place that continues to amaze me is the ocean. I’ve always found I’m most at home on the water where no one can force you to do anything, and the biggest threat is the water itself.

I’m more at home on the ocean than I ever have been in a house, in a warm bed.

I’m just about to step up the stairs leading from the beach when a dog barks, waking me from my internal rant. We lock eyes, he wags his sand-colored tail and then darts straight for me. Before I can move out of the way, the yellow lab—probably the biggest fucking dog I’ve ever seen—knocks me off my feet and I land on my ass in the sand.

Fuck, that’ll hurt tomorrow.

“Oh my God, Toast!” a woman scolds and the sound of footsteps rush toward me. “Are you okay?”

I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, a face looms over mine and I swear the dog killed me. Hair like a wild golden halo surrounds her face, her eyes are blue and green like the ocean and the sweetest lips I’ve ever seen.

Fuck . . . I can’t catch a break.

She glares at me, ready to tear into me, but she doesn’t get the chance when the dog jumps between us and starts licking me playfully.

“Toast!” Nova scolds, lugging the dog back by the collar around his neck. “You’re embarrassing me.”

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