“What if you’re fishing?”
“Same hold. But we pack it full of ice. No water.”
She squinted up at the large cranes overhead, the spotlights and antennas secured to the top, and a chill caught her off guard. “Those lights are to help you see in the dark? Or see if there’s a wave coming?”
Brendan came to stand beside her, dropped a kiss onto her shoulder. “Yeah. I can see when they’re coming, baby.”
“Did you know . . . that’s how Henry died?” Why was she whispering? “A rogue wave just knocked him right overboard. Mick told me.”
“Yeah, I knew.” He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’m not going to pretend things like that don’t still happen, Piper, but it happens a hell of a lot less these days. Training to be on deck is more comprehensive, the machinery we have leaves less room for human error. Boats are better designed for safety now, and with all of the recent updates, mine is one of the safest.”
Piper looked up at him. “Is this why you brought me out here?” she asked quietly. “To show me why I don’t have to worry when you’re gone?”
“It’s one of the reasons. I don’t like you crying.”
She swallowed a sharp object in her throat. “When I heard there was an accident, I just kept thinking of the boat flipping over. Can that happen?”
“Rarely. Very rarely. Especially for one this large.” Brendan studied her face for a beat, then moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Close your eyes.”
She forced herself to relax. “Okay.”
“Just feel the way the boat moves like it’s part of the water. That’s how it’s designed, to compensate for waves. Like an airplane going over turbulence. There are bumps, but they never stop you from moving.” His hand snuck around the front to lift her chin. “You see how low the railings are on this boat? And those openings at the base? That’s so the water can just pass right over and through. It can’t hold water from a wave or make the weight uneven.”
“But . . . because they’re so low, isn’t it easy for a man to go over the side?”
“It hasn’t happened yet to anyone on my team.” He let go of her chin and pulled her closer. “I can tell you when I worked on the crew, before I was a captain, my legs became part of the boat. You learn to balance. You learn to read the water, to brace, to loosen. I’m in the wheelhouse, so it’s near impossible for me to go overboard, but I’m responsible for five men, not just myself anymore.”
“Which is harder?”
“Responsibility.”
Absently, she reached up and stroked his beard. “They’re right to trust you.”
She felt him swallow against the back of her head. “Do you . . . feel any better?”
“A little. Standing on the boat makes it seem more substantial.”
It’s a clear day, though. Not a rain cloud in sight. Storms are a different story.
He was making such a sweet effort to allay her fears that she kept silent.
“What else do you worry about?” Brendan asked against her ear.
Piper shrugged but didn’t answer. One wrong move, and they could veer into dangerous territory. Maybe she should make another Little Mermaid reference—
“Piper.”
“Oh yes?”
“What else do you worry about?”
Her sigh allowed the truth to sneak up her throat, but she played it off like her concern was minor. When it was definitely not. In fact, she was starting to think it was the kernel center of the whole piece of popcorn. “I’m not, um . . . built for this whole worrying business, Brendan. Keeping the home fires burning. Wrapping a cardigan around my shoulders and pacing the docks, clutching a locket or something? Does that sound like me? No. You know I’m too high maintenance for that. I’m . . .”
He stayed quiet, just held her.
Which was bad, because she started to ramble.
“You know. Just hypothetically speaking. Once a year, you go out to catch crab, sure. But all the time? Going to bed thinking you might not come back, night after night? Uh-uh. I’m not . . .” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m not strong enough for that.”
“Yes, you are. I know it asks a lot, but yes, you are.”
“No. I’m not. Not every woman can do this. She—” Ugh. Piper rolled her eyes at herself. How truly pathetic she was being, bringing up another woman. But as soon as the words started to flow, a pressure in her chest started to lessen, like a brick had been sitting on top of it. “You had a fisherman’s wife. She was born here, and this was normal to her. You can’t really expect me to live up to that. I will . . .” Disappoint you. Disappoint myself. Disappoint Henry. “A little less than a month ago, I had no responsibilities. No worries. And now, now . . . this huge one. It’s huge. This guy I care about a lot, like, a lot, has the most dangerous job in the universe. And I don’t have a job at all. I don’t even live here. Not permanently. Like, we are not a fit, Brendan. It won’t work, so stop—”