him? Was there anything more embarrassing? So much for her efforts to be normal for a change. So much for trying to fit in.
Alex frowned. “You okay? Your ears just turned really red all of a sudden.”
Juli touched her chilly fingers to one earlobe, holding the ginger lumps in her other palm. “I’m fine, really.”
“Are you going to eat that ginger or just fondle it?”
“Will fondling it be enough to get rid of the seasickness?”
“No. And neither will eating it. If you’re already seasick, there’s not much we can do about this round. We’re trying to prevent the next round. Are those bands tight enough?”
Juli fiddled with the odd little wristbands he’d slipped over her hands just a few minutes earlier. Small plastic beads pressed between her tendons, performing some sort of acupressure miracle Alex swore by.
“Tight enough for what?” she asked.
“Your wrists seem awfully small. Can you feel pressure?”
“Sure. Am I supposed to have circulation?”
“Preferably. I’d rather not have to amputate your hands at sea.”
Juli turned her wrist up to look at it. “Do they come in other colors? Seems like they could market pink ones for women, maybe yellow ones for kids—”
“Why don’t you phone me the next time you decide to stow away on my boat and I’ll be sure to have a full palette of colors for you to choose from.”
Juli grinned and grabbed the tea back from him, taking another sip as the wind ruffled her hair. The warm air above deck certainly felt better in her lungs than the stale stuff down in her cabin. Of course, that may have been because the air below deck smelled like regurgitated breakfast.
“Did Cody handle it okay when you told him about the boot?” she asked as she took another sip of tea.
“Cookie.”
“What?”
“He wants us to call him Cookie out here. And yes, he was fine with the boot. He offered to let you use the other if you need it.”
“That’s sweet.”
“That’s Cody.”
“He seems like a nice guy.”
“The best,” Alex agreed, easing himself onto the deck chair beside her.
“You seem very protective of your crew. Kind of paternal, really. You have kids?”
“No.”
“And you never got married?”
Alex stared at her. “Drink your tea and eat your ginger so you won’t have to take Cookie up on the boot offer.”
“Thanks for having him bring Uncle Frank up here.” Juli patted the top of the urn. “I promised he’d get to see the ocean as much as possible on this trip.”
“Don’t mention it. That thing’s latched, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not a fan of cremated remains flying around my boat.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Juli took another swig of the brew, then opened her palm and eyed the sticky lumps. “Candied ginger root?”
“Plenty of sailors swear by it.”
“My mother puts it in tuna casserole.”
“You don’t say.”
Juli tossed the lumps into her mouth and chewed, watching Alex as she washed the gummy, spicy mess down with another mouthful of tea. Reclining in a deck chair beside her, Alex might have appeared relaxed to the casual observer.
But Juli wasn’t a casual observer. She saw the odd glance he’d exchanged with Cody when he brought the tea. She heard him murmuring something to Phyllis earlier when the two of them went rooting for the acupressure bands. Heard the sharp notes of worry in the older woman’s voice. Something was up with these guys. Nervous cartographers? Was this really a high-stress occupation? It didn’t seem likely.
Or rather, it didn’t seem likely that was truly what they were doing out here. But why would they make up a lame story like that?
“You done?” Alex asked, taking the mug from her hand.
“Done. Thank you. For taking care of me, I mean.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Really, I mean, I’m a stowaway on your ship and all. You don’t have to be this nice.”
“I do have to. I don’t want you to puke again. It’s a rental. There’s a
Alex frowned. “You okay? Your ears just turned really red all of a sudden.”
Juli touched her chilly fingers to one earlobe, holding the ginger lumps in her other palm. “I’m fine, really.”
“Are you going to eat that ginger or just fondle it?”
“Will fondling it be enough to get rid of the seasickness?”
“No. And neither will eating it. If you’re already seasick, there’s not much we can do about this round. We’re trying to prevent the next round. Are those bands tight enough?”
Juli fiddled with the odd little wristbands he’d slipped over her hands just a few minutes earlier. Small plastic beads pressed between her tendons, performing some sort of acupressure miracle Alex swore by.
“Tight enough for what?” she asked.
“Your wrists seem awfully small. Can you feel pressure?”
“Sure. Am I supposed to have circulation?”
“Preferably. I’d rather not have to amputate your hands at sea.”
Juli turned her wrist up to look at it. “Do they come in other colors? Seems like they could market pink ones for women, maybe yellow ones for kids—”
“Why don’t you phone me the next time you decide to stow away on my boat and I’ll be sure to have a full palette of colors for you to choose from.”
Juli grinned and grabbed the tea back from him, taking another sip as the wind ruffled her hair. The warm air above deck certainly felt better in her lungs than the stale stuff down in her cabin. Of course, that may have been because the air below deck smelled like regurgitated breakfast.
“Did Cody handle it okay when you told him about the boot?” she asked as she took another sip of tea.
“Cookie.”
“What?”
“He wants us to call him Cookie out here. And yes, he was fine with the boot. He offered to let you use the other if you need it.”
“That’s sweet.”
“That’s Cody.”
“He seems like a nice guy.”
“The best,” Alex agreed, easing himself onto the deck chair beside her.
“You seem very protective of your crew. Kind of paternal, really. You have kids?”
“No.”
“And you never got married?”
Alex stared at her. “Drink your tea and eat your ginger so you won’t have to take Cookie up on the boot offer.”
“Thanks for having him bring Uncle Frank up here.” Juli patted the top of the urn. “I promised he’d get to see the ocean as much as possible on this trip.”
“Don’t mention it. That thing’s latched, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not a fan of cremated remains flying around my boat.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Juli took another swig of the brew, then opened her palm and eyed the sticky lumps. “Candied ginger root?”
“Plenty of sailors swear by it.”
“My mother puts it in tuna casserole.”
“You don’t say.”
Juli tossed the lumps into her mouth and chewed, watching Alex as she washed the gummy, spicy mess down with another mouthful of tea. Reclining in a deck chair beside her, Alex might have appeared relaxed to the casual observer.
But Juli wasn’t a casual observer. She saw the odd glance he’d exchanged with Cody when he brought the tea. She heard him murmuring something to Phyllis earlier when the two of them went rooting for the acupressure bands. Heard the sharp notes of worry in the older woman’s voice. Something was up with these guys. Nervous cartographers? Was this really a high-stress occupation? It didn’t seem likely.
Or rather, it didn’t seem likely that was truly what they were doing out here. But why would they make up a lame story like that?
“You done?” Alex asked, taking the mug from her hand.
“Done. Thank you. For taking care of me, I mean.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Really, I mean, I’m a stowaway on your ship and all. You don’t have to be this nice.”
“I do have to. I don’t want you to puke again. It’s a rental. There’s a
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