Page 5 of Falling Overboard

From this crew, no less.

“Wasn’t going to.” I absolutely had just been about to, but she didn’t need to know that. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “I don’t think I can tease you. Especially since the captain just said that you’re forbidden.”

She tripped a little over her own feet, another adorable thing to add to the list. “Yes. Forbidden. As is everyone else.”

I didn’t care about anyone else. No one else on this ship could be anywhere near as interesting.

My dad had done this just to screw with me.

We went up to the top deck, where crewmembers were cleaning. Lucky explained that they had to chamois every surface and keep the exterior pristine because of how much damage the salt water could do.

One of the men stopped and immediately leered at Lucky. She looked disgusted and took a step away from him. It had been a long time since I’d wanted to punch someone but if he didn’t stop looking at her like that I might not be responsible for my own actions.

He spoke with a French accent so thick that he sounded like a cartoon character when he said, “Belle Lucky, have you come to help us? I have an itch that I cannot quite reach. Maybe you can.”

Lucky turned to me and said, “This is François. He’s the first mate and sometimes engineer. He’s from France and acts like he’s not marriedwith a child even though he is. He might be the reason for the new rule.”

I could hear her distaste for him and hoped he was smart enough to keep his hands to himself. I had three sisters and it had always been my instinct to protect. I didn’t have any right to protect Lucky but having come across her in such a vulnerable state ... that response kicked in. I wanted to keep her safe.

Two other crewmembers joined us and Lucky continued the introductions. “This is Pieter and he’s from South Africa. Kai is from New Zealand. Everyone, this is Hunter.”

While I was shaking their hands, knowing I wasn’t going to remember any of their names, a third man came over. “And this is Thomas, the bosun,” she said.

I had no idea what a bosun was and didn’t ask.

“From London,” Thomas said, while pumping my hand enthusiastically. “Pleasure to meet you, mate.”

I didn’t get the same bad vibe from him, or the other two, as I did from the French guy.

“Where are you from?” Kai asked me. Where had Lucky said he was from? I couldn’t quite place his accent.

“New York,” I said.

“Another Yank! You must be happy about that,” one of the crewmembers said to Lucky. She gave him a tight smile and I wondered what that was about.

I shifted my knapsack on my shoulders and Lucky said, “I should have let you put that down first thing. Let’s go stow it and I’ll show you to your cabin.”

The bosun guy said, “Come find me after you’ve settled in and I’ll show you the actual ropes.”

That probably meant he was my boss. “I will.”

Lucky took me through the ship, telling me about the rooms like I was a guest. I had to smile to myself that she couldn’t appreciate the irony. But I didn’t want to hear about Ming vases. I also didn’t want toembarrass myself as I started this new job and sensed that she would be helpful if asked. “I’m terrible with names. Can you tell me the names of the crew again, and who is who?”

My memory had always been terrible, as had my ability to refrain from being distracted.

“François is the wannabe adulterer, short with dark hair. Pieter is the lanky guy with light brown hair. Kai is the one with the tattoos on his arm and black hair. Thomas has curly brown hair,” she said.

I repeated the names to myself as we went down some stairs.

“Do I need to remind you of my name?” she asked, the teasing lilt in her voice unmistakable.

“Lucia Salerno. Lucky. It’s not a name I’ll ever forget.” I didn’t mean to flirt with her and so I felt bad when she missed the bottom step and nearly smacked into the opposite wall.

“Careful!” I said, again pressing my lips together so that I wouldn’t smile. She was interested. I wouldn’t be having this effect on her if she weren’t. I couldn’t see her face as I was behind her, and I wondered if she’d flushed that attractive shade of pink again.

We went into a tiny kitchen. She said, “This is the galley and that’s our chef, Andre. He’s from Brazil and makes the most incredible food you’ll ever eat.”

Another name. The chef glared at us and nodded as I said hello.

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