He shut his eyes and in front of her typed the words, f-i-r-e e-x-t-i-n-g-u-i-s-h-e-r.
“The boat already has them,” Molly laughed.
“Not enough.”
Molly gave him a playful shove, but damn if it didn’t send a little stream of heat over his skin. Maybe he hadn’t thought this trip through, after all. Here was a woman he’d always been attracted to, but due to life, time and distance, whatever relationship they might have had off the boat seven years ago never materialized. In its place, a casual friendship had developed, but now she was here with a broken heart and had never given him any indication that she wanted anything more than friendship. Yet he was having a difficult time remembering that as her light scent drifted over him and her pink lips closed on the delicate rim of the crystal champagne glass.
Well, he thought grimly, blue balls aside, he’d made worse decisions in his life.
“So what’s your plan?” Molly asked. “I know you’ve got something up your sleeve and we’re not just taking this puppy out for a vacation spin this month.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t want you to do anything else besides keep the boat in working order, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, I’m not suggesting that,” Molly agreed. “But as I understand it, you quit the job your parents insisted you keep.”
Because people in the Kent family worked, was the refrain, even though Oliver’s yearly salary was eclipsed by the monthly interest he lived on from his grandparents’ trust fund and his own private investments. His father was now CEO of the largest investment firm in the country, a company that used to be owned by his father and so on, which meant Oliver had to work there, was groomed to take over the company when his father was ready to retire.
But yes, Oliver had quit. He’d walked away from his family legacy and duty. And he wasn’t sorry at all.
That Molly knew he wasn’t just going to drift around on the yacht indefinitely, that he had plans for something more, was nice. At least someone didn’t think he was an absolute wastrel.
“I’m going to start a yacht manufacturing company,” he admitted, a little hesitantly, because he’d yet to actually say the words out loud to someone.
Molly sat up straighter in her chair. “Wow,” she said, mouth open, a little stunned. “That’s awesome.”
“I don’t know about that, but it’s a lucrative market and after rebuilding this boat I have an idea of what it takes. I know all the players. And I really want to make something, you know?”
The job he’d given up was basically just moving money around and he fucking couldn’t stand it. He wanted to explore the world, meet and work with different types of people, build grandiose, magnificent eco-friendly ships that would sail forever. And he wanted to do it on his own instead of riding the coattails of his family.
Molly’s head tilted as she considered him and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Like I said, I’m proud of you, bud.”
“So you won’t mind if we take some detours to tour other boats and talk to some boat makers?”
“It’ll be my pleasure to help any way I can, Oliver,” she told him.
Holding up her glass, she said, “To fresh starts.”
Oliver clinked his glass against hers, meeting her eyes. “To us.”
CHAPTER TWO
MOLLY DIDN’T QUITE know what she was doing waking up on a yacht with Oliver Kent, of all people. The bright morning sun was streaming in the windows, and her hand brushed over the silky duvet on her bed as she thought back to when they’d been together. While working on yachts in their early twenties, Molly had fallen hard for Oliver, but even then she’d recognized that his life was far removed from anything she could have fit into once they were off the boat.
So even if she had been heartbroken that he hadn’t asked her to stay together or offered to come with her to Colorado when yachting season was over, her life had gone on. And, unexpectedly, they’d kept in touch over the years and now that her gutter person of an ex-fiancé was revealed, his offer of a yacht trip felt like a miracle. She could heal after her carefully crafted life imploded.
And if sometimes she still had flashbacks of walking into her bedroom and finding her fiancé mid-thrust into their neighbor, well, that was why she was here on the water headed for the calm, sparkling blue sea of the Caribbean.
Luckily, the small team of engineers she worked with had just launched their latest satellite into space, so her current leave of absence wasn’t too much of a burden to her beloved coworkers. Even they had called bullshit on the accusations Max had lobbed at her—that she was too devoted to her job and didn’t have time for him, that she never wanted to hang out with his friends, that she wasn’t open in bed, that she shut him out, ad infinitum. All the flimsy excuses of a man caught and unable to hold himself accountable.
But she was taking advice from her friends and was not going to start her Caribbean adventure with her ex’s untrue poison in her ear. Now was her time for relaxation and renewal. With Oliver Kent, who was perhaps the single most handsome person she’d seen in real life. So yeah, total heartbreak and devastation aside, she’d definitely traded up.
Oliver had always been able to make her smile, especially back then when their superlong workdays were taken up by demanding physical labor and endlessly cranky and demanding charter guests. For a girl from a small town in Colorado, she’d been in awe of the yachting world, the interesting jobs of the guests, the exotic locations, not to mention
