Jack woke to the smell of coffee--strong and familiar--and for a moment, he forgot where he was. His body felt unusually relaxed, muscles loose in a way they hadn't been in months. Then memories of the previous night crashed over him like a rogue wave.
Cassie. The storm. What had happened between them.
He reached across the berth, expecting to find warm skin and tangled blonde hair, but his hand met only rumpled sheets. Jack sat up, squinting at the sunlight streaming through the porthole. He'd slept later than usual, which was unlike him. The boat wasn't moving--they were still anchored where they'd weathered the storm--but he could hear movement above deck, a dropped item followed by a muffled curse.
Pulling on clothes, Jack climbed the steps to find her attempting to coil one of the lines on deck. Her technique was still far from perfect--the rope twisted awkwardly in her hands--but he could see she was genuinely trying. She wore his shirt, the sleeves rolled up past her elbows, the hem barely reaching mid-thigh. It looked both ridiculous and infuriatingly good on her.
A mug of coffee and half-eaten toast sat on the cockpit bench beside a navigation chart she'd apparently been studying. She hadn't set sail, but she'd clearly been preparing for departure--the covers were off the instruments, the deck partially cleared, the morning checklist he kept taped by the wheel unfolded and visible.
"You always sleep like the dead after storms?" she called, not looking up from her task. "Or was it the other activities that wore you out?" There was a teasing lilt to her voice, but he also detected something else--a hint of genuine confidence that hadn't been there before.
Jack cleared his throat. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep." She shrugged, the movement causing the shirt to slip slightly off one shoulder. "Figured I'd try to be useful." She held up the tangled rope with a self-deprecating smile. "Still haven't mastered this part though."
Jack moved beside her, noting that while her coiling technique was poor, she'd at least attempted to organize things properly. She'd remembered where most items belonged--a small but noticeable improvement.
"Let me," he said, taking the line from her hands. Their fingers brushed, and he ignored the jolt that ran through him at the contact.
"I made coffee," she said, nodding toward the mug on the bench. "Probably tastes terrible, but it's hot and caffeinated."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Don't look so shocked." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not completely helpless." She paused, a slow smile spreading across her face.
Jack picked up the coffee and took a cautious sip. It was a little too weak, but the gesture itself was unexpectedly thoughtful.
"I tried to make sense of the charts," Cassie continued, moving to where she'd left the navigation materials. "So these little squiggly lines are depth, right? And we're heading here?" She pointed to a spot on the map that was, surprisingly, not far off from their actual destination.
"Close," Jack said, leaning over to correct her. "Here. The Dry Tortugas."
She leaned in, genuinely attentive. "And how long will it take?"
"With good wind, we'll be there by noon."
Cassie nodded, absorbing the information with surprising focus. "I also checked the barometer? Clear skies ahead, looks like." She gave him a sidelong glance. "Though after last night, I'm not sure I mind storms so much anymore."
There it was--the acknowledgment of what had happened between them. Jack had half-hoped they might politely ignore it, maintain the fragile equilibrium they'd established before the storm. Before his control had shattered like glass.
"Cassie--" he began, not entirely sure what he was going to say.
"Relax, Captain Let's Pretend That Didn't Happen," she said, eyes on the chart. "I'm not trying to have a deep discussion about our sexual chemistry. Unless you are?"
She glanced up, smile wicked. "Didn't think so."
"I'm not going to make a big deal out of it if you don't. Though I do think we should discuss a few things." She paused, her expression suddenly serious. "Like, for instance, how many times I'm allowed to bring up your face when you--"
"Don't," Jack warned, feeling heat creep up his neck.
Her serious expression cracked, dissolving into laughter. "Oh my God, you should see yourself right now. You look like you're about to dive overboard."
Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Is this how it's going to be now?"
"Don't worry," she said, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "I'll only tease you about it..." She paused dramatically, running her tongue slowly across her bottom lip like she was on stage instead of a boat. "Let's say... once an hour. Twice if you're being particularly grumpy."
She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "Although," she murmured, "I do think I've earned an official title. First Mate of Nocturnal Entertainment or Specialist in Seamen Relations have a nice ring to them, don't you think?"
Her fingers traced light circles up his chest. "Of course, if you prefer, I can serve under you in a more... hands-on capacity, Captain."
Jack opened his mouth--possibly to object, possibly to combust--but she cut him off with a wicked grin. "You know," she added thoughtfully, tapping her chin, "we really should update the ship's chain of command. You can keep 'Captain,' obviously. But I feel 'Chief of Penetrative Strategy' is still available."
Jack choked on his coffee. "Jesus, Cassie."
She batted her lashes. "Language, Captain. There could be impressionable dolphins listening."
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. "Remind me why I let you stay on this boat?"
She leaned back, smug as a cat in a sunbeam. "Because I bring excitement, Sir. Excitement... and deeply unprofessional HR violations. Now, just so we're clear on org structure, am I reporting to you directly, or is this more of a horizontal command chain? I thrive in horizontal positions..."
Despite himself, Jack felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "I preferred you when you were more scared and also terrible at everything."
"No, you didn't," Cassie replied confidently. "And now you're stuck with me being both incredibly charming and somewhat less of a disaster around the boat. Your worst nightmare."
She moved to gather her breakfast dishes, and as she passed him, she added casually, "Besides, I think I've earned a glowing letter of recommendation for my sailing résumé, don't you? For my future captains to consider."
Jack turned to look at her, caught off guard by her casual mention of leaving. Wasn't that what he wanted? A return to his solitude, his carefully ordered world? Then why did the thought suddenly sit like lead in his stomach?
Cassie noticed his expression and grinned, her usual mischief returning. "Don't worry, that's still a few days away. Plenty of time for you to admit how much you'll miss me." She winked. "And plenty of time for me to keep distracting you from your previously perfectly scheduled brooding high seas solitude."
Jack shook his head, though something warm unfurled in his chest. "Just help me get the boat ready."
"Aye aye, Captain Emotional Avoidance," she replied with an exaggerated salute.
