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her to her new home while four males and three females seemed at a loss. Of all of them, Nikki’d been the only one to act like an adult. If Mace’s job was tough before, now it had just become impossible.

    Nikki stood in the galley shortly after sunrise. Ocean had instructed her to work there for the morning—which really irritated her because she’d wanted to watch the boat pull away from land. Everybody works on this vessel, he’d reminded her.
    Hands on hips, she glanced at the number of boxes that needed to be stored. Why her? She didn’t have a clue where food should go in a floating kitchen. After opening a cupboard— after several unsuccessful searches elsewhere—she got her answer. Each tightly closed door housed specific provisions, and each section was labeled with black marker. “This won’t be too hard,” she said quietly, and started opening drawers and the yet-unsearched cupboards to familiarize herself.
    Ocean had said he’d send someone to help as soon as they left the dock. It couldn’t be too soon; there were a million boxes.
    “What are you doing?”
    She was so into her work, the voice made her jump. Mace’s voice. Again.
    She turned to face him. Standing just inside the galley doorway, he wore a white tank and loose jean shorts. He looked amazing. His feet were bare, and the wind had fixed his hair into its usual style, but messed up, like fingers had roamed through it repeatedly. For a moment she let herself imagine her own hands doing the job. Whoa, there.
    Heat rose to her cheeks, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring in awe at the kitchen. She wondered why—it seemed dark and cramped to her. Her eyes trailed the space. Surely he wasn’t impressed with what she’d accomplished so far. Cabinets, cupboards, and drawers held only a minimum of supplies—left over from the last trip, she supposed. “I really haven’t done anything yet.”
    “Nikki, we’re about to pull away from the dock.” His words were stiff and tinged with a bit of panic.
    “I know, and I wish I didn’t have to miss it.”
    His eyes widened and he headed straight for her, voice rising. “We’re about to pull away from the dock.”
    Then it registered. Horror stricken, her gaze bounced around the kitchen again, seeing not supplies, but future flying projectiles. “Oh no!” She lunged toward the nearest counter and began slamming doors—some of which popped back open. She used her knees, feet, and even rear end to close drawers and cupboards.
    Mace started on the other side and must have been doing better than her, judging by the slams she heard. Hearing the motor rise, they flew into high gear. And by the time they felt the first surge of movement, the only cabinet left open was across the kitchen from both of them. To her horror, it was filled with cups and glasses.
    Mace’s eyes met hers as the motor rose again and both of them were thrown forward. She pushed off the counter as the boat lurched back and forth, and the cups rose to teeter on their edges then fell into place. She jumped into action, Mace at her side. His outstretched hands filled her vision. We’ll make it, she thought. But the boat lunged again and sent the jostled cups out in a flurry toward them.
    Both were grabbing and reaching like mad as glass after glass and mug after mug flew like buckshot toward them. Arms full, Nikki used her head to slam the door shut.
    A long pause of relief. An exhale of all that air. Eyes returning to normal size. And then … laughter. First it bubbled from Mace, then from her. They both sank to the floor, breathless and loaded down with unbroken cups. “That was close,” Mace said and started setting his armload down in a neat row on the floor. He began a second row with hers.
    “Good thing you came along when you did.”
    He chuckled.
    And it warmed her from the inside out. It was so good to hear a chuckle, a laugh, anything from him that represented joy instead of pain.
    “Ocean would have