Furious Jeffrey Higgins (english love story books TXT) 📖

“Two cabins in the stern and the stateroom in the bow; and we say fore and aft, not front and back.”

Brad led me forward through the galley to a small passageway. He paused and opened two cabinets, containing a refrigerator and a washing machine. The passageway opened into the largest berth—our stateroom. A queen-sized bed sat atop a raised platform and light streamed in from two overhead hatches and rows of windows along the sides. Cabinets lined the starboard side, and a forty-inch digital television hung from the bulkhead.

“It’s more luxurious than I expected,” I said, “but it’s a smaller space than we’re used to. Won’t we get cabin fever?”

“We have three berths with locking doors, a comfortable salon, and plenty of room on deck. You won’t have any difficulty getting away from me.”

“Do you ever want to get away from me?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know, but . . .”

“But what?” he asked.

“I called you the other day, and you weren’t at work.”

Brad put his hands on his hips and scowled. “I already explained that. I was in a pharmaceutical meeting.”

“You work with all those pretty, young nurses . . . women without my depression.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Brad said.

“I feel like you’re not telling me something.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Brad said, avoiding my gaze. “Let’s finish the inventory and head to the hotel. I want an extravagant dinner before we shove off tomorrow.”

I followed him into the galley where Ali had opened cabinets filled with canned goods. The freezer overflowed with meat in vacuum-sealed packages, and fruit and vegetables packed the refrigerator.

Ali bent over, pulled a panel off the deck, and opened a hidden compartment below. I peeked over his shoulder at rows of canned goods, oils, dish soap, shower gels, shampoo, bottled water, beer, sodas, flour, sugar, cornmeal, condiments, spices, oils, butter, rice, crackers, pasta, beans, nuts, granola bars, chips, jelly, tuna, and soup. Too much food for land and barely enough at sea.

“We could feed a navy,” I said.

“You’ll be surprised how fast we go through it. Once we enter the Indian ocean, if it didn’t come with us, we won’t have it.”

Brad turned to Ali. “Everything appears to be here. I won’t count all the cans.”

“Not necessary, Mr. Coolidge. I checked them myself.”

“Good,” Brad said. He pulled a stack of Indonesian rupiahs from his pocket and handed them to Ali. “This is for your efforts, my good man. Please give me a minute alone with my wife.”

Ali thanked him and climbed the companionway.

Brad took my hands in his. “I know I surprised you with this trip and you did not have time to prepare, but I’m the captain and I’ll take care of everything. You’re in expert hands.”

“Okay.” I almost thanked him, but this trip was something he wanted to do, something he had challenged me with, and he had waited until the last minute to tell me about it. Thanking him for being my knight in shining armor seemed wrong.

“Listen, if this is too hard for you, I won’t force you to go. We can stay at the resort and lie on the beach for a few days.”

“Really?” I asked.

“I’m not a monster.”

“But the lease?”

“It’s only money.”

I exhaled. “Thanks for saying that, but no. I said I’d go, and I will. I need to do this.”

Brad smiled. “You’ll be glad you did. This is one of the best yachts ever constructed. Tomorrow, after we clear the harbor, I’ll explain all the emergency procedures to you.”

“Emergency procedures?”

“What to do if I fall overboard, operating our communication equipment, basic skills.”

“You better not fall overboard. I could never sail this alone.

“Don’t be paranoid. I’ll take care of you. Nothing bad will happen.”

CHAPTER FIVE

I padded across the teak floor in our bungalow at the Royal Indonesian Resort and stepped onto the balcony. I gazed past a stand of swaying palm trees and across the beach to the Indian Ocean. The sun melted and spread across the horizon as the water darkened and the sky burned shades of amber and scarlet.

“This may be the most beautiful island in the world,” Brad said, coming up behind me.

I nodded but stayed silent. It did not feel right staying in a five-star hotel on a tropical beach while Emma lay dead in her grave. Would that ever change?

“Are you okay?” he asked. The muscles in his jaw tensed as he awaited my answer.

“Being on the water scares me, but I would rather be out there than here. Somehow, spending a month on a sailboat seems more appropriate. Maybe my aquaphobia makes it a punishment, my penance for failing my daughter.”

“You’ll get your wish tomorrow.”

“I have no choice. If I lose my fellowship, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’ll check the forecast then let’s get some sleep. I want to leave at dawn.”

Brad undressed and climbed into bed with his laptop while I sifted through clothes in my suitcase. I had packed in a hurry, not knowing what I would need. The island heat lingered throughout December, so I brought bikinis, shorts, and short-sleeve shirts.

Thinking about the yacht raised my blood pressure. I had not been on a sailboat in twenty-one years. I remembered sailing on the Charles River with my father, when he had borrowed his friend’s thirty-one-foot Catalina and we had navigated out of the river into Boston Harbor. A perfect day, with no clouds, no humidity, and no worries. At least that was the picture frozen into my memory—before everything changed.

I closed my suitcase and sighed. Whatever I had packed would have to suffice. I washed off my makeup, brushed my teeth, and changed into a long tee shirt. I carried my laptop with me and slipped into bed beside Brad.

“Shit,” Brad said.

“What?”

“There’s a monsoon moving into the Bay of Bengal.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“We’re taking the northern route to India, passing south of Thailand, because the northeast winds will be behind us, but if they reach gale force in the bay,