Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
“She’s fine.” I wish I could say the same.
I stand up and scratch my eyes, just in case any tears sneaked out when I wasn’t paying attention.
“Can you take her leash for a minute? I just want to take in the view and get a few quick shots.”
He takes it and stands with her so gently while I circle around the observation room, taking in a near 360 degree panorama of the mountains and silver waters reflecting the sunset. I hold up my phone, snapping photos and a few short clips.
“This is seriously amazing. I’ve never seen a ship built like this,” I say.
“Same as the house. I brought in designers who gave it my personal touch.”
I smile like a total fool.
Of course he did.
This man is a force of nature, always leaving his mark on the world.
I just wish he didn’t do it so effortlessly with me.
I walk the room slowly, and then we step outside to the main deck. The cool breeze is the sharp slap in the face I need to smother the weepy burn digging at my eyes.
A tan muscular man with greying black hair and a big smile approaches.
“This is Captain Juan,” Shepherd says. “He’ll bring us to the whales today, safe and sound.”
Juan smiles, displaying white teeth. He’s in his forties, I think, and he has the kind of wiry strength you see in guys who get their exercise from their day jobs rather than the gym.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lancaster. You brew a mean cup of coffee.”
“Destiny, please, and that’s actually my dad. He’s in charge of Wired Cup.” I smile warmly enough, but my heart twists.
I haven’t said a word to my father since he was basically ready to come at Shepherd for robbing the cradle. I shouldn’t keep delaying the inevitable—especially when we’ll be broken up soon enough—but lately it’s just been too much to deal with.
“Ah. Please pass along my compliments.” His smile is wide and easy, like the glinting sun on water. It should help defuse the tension, but it doesn’t.
Shepherd and Captain Juan talk logistics for a few minutes and I try to say a few words. But my heart isn’t in it when I know this is it.
The beginning of the end for my heart.
“Leave the navigation side to me,” Captain Juan says warmly before he steps away. “You two just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
Easy, right?
God, it should be.
“Okay to leave her here for a minute?” Shepherd asks.
I nod and he ties Molly’s leash to the railing as we head to the front of the ship, standing together as the engine rumbles to life and hums beneath us.
“Away we go,” he says, reaching for my hand. “You need anything else? I thought you’d be more excited.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry.
“Oh, no. All good. I’m just enjoying the breeze and—this view. Wow,” I lie.
Whatever eliminates the chance of breaking down in a messy heap of tears at his feet.
He half smiles, clasping my hand tighter before he looks back at the horizon.
As we chug into the bay and head north at a good speed, I glance behind us at the rapidly shrinking Seattle skyline.
We live in such a beautiful place with the ocean on our doorstep and the mountains cradling this city.
If this is it for us, it’s a picture-perfect finish.
I really should shut my mind up and appreciate every second.
The wind streams across my face as we plow through the open waves, the edge of coolness softened by the summer evening.
I hold up my fingers, feeling the way the breeze slips through them like invisible silk.
Seagulls cackle overhead, and for a second, I can believe we’re alone in the world.
Nothing but us.
Shepherd and Molly and me. After we head back to her, Molly leans her head against my hip, enjoying the rush of air through her fur.
“Thanks again for doing this. I hope it isn’t interrupting your work too much,” I say, wondering if he’ll tell me anything.
“Dess, I would’ve dragged you here. When I heard about the whales, I couldn’t let you miss it.” He glances at me kindly and then looks back, leaning on the railing.
When did our conversations become so stilted?
It’s like the air clogs with everything we’re not saying, and nothing else can get through.
“I’ve been dreaming about this since I was a kid,” I tell him. “They’re so rare. I mean, it’s such an unlikely experience, you know? This group is the first one that’s been spotted in Washington waters all year, I think.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “You’ve got to seize your chances. Grab them and hold the hell on.”
My heart twists again.
“...do you think we’ll really see them today? I know it’s never guaranteed, especially with how fast the weather changes up in the islands.”
“Guess there’s some thunder and wind later, but we should have a good window of opportunity.” Shepherd walks over to the lounge chair where he set his bag down and pulls out his tablet. He shows me the pulsing green dot that looks like our last whale report, not far from Friday Harbor on San Juan Island.