Ocean Jewel by Cassie Mint

One

Roxy

Istroll along the edge of the harbor, salt air whipping at my cheeks. Excitement bubbles in my chest as I hitch my backpack higher on my shoulders, the fabric straining with hastily stuffed clothes and arts supplies.

Two weeks on the water. Two whole weeks with my older brother Jake, the man who practically raised me. Who I’ve barely seen for the last six months.

And two weeks with him.

Jake’s best friend. The man I’m not supposed to want. The man who’s dominated my daydreams since I was a teenager.

Damian Flint.

Seabirds cackle and wheel overhead, the wind ruffling their white and gray feathers. I shield my eyes against the bright morning sun, scanning the boats bobbing against the jetty. Jake was rushed when he called me a few days ago, always being torn in all directions by work, but I swear he said ‘sailing’ trip.

I don’t see any sails. Not on boats big enough for us to live on. The thought of the three of us squeezing onto one of these tiny clinking sailboats, Damian’s hard chest pressed against my back… I clear my throat, fanning my cheeks.

Get it together, Roxy.He doesn’t see me that way.

He never will.

“Roxy!” The cry is faint, the voice snatched away by the coastal wind. I turn and peer around the boats, scanning everything from battered fishing trawlers to compact luxury cruisers. “Over here!”

A glimpse of movement catches my eye: my brother waving his whole arm, standing backlit by the morning sun. I beam and start to run, my heavy bag thumping against my back.

Jake.I’ve missed my big brother so much.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for him. He’s worked so hard for so long, and now that his documentary film-making career is finally taking off—I’m proud enough to burst. For the last six months since his big breakout film, he’s barely slept in the apartment we share for a single night. His phone is constantly buzzing and pinging; he’s lived out of a duffel bag for weeks on end. When he does tear through our apartment like a hurricane, I barely have time to hug him and shove a piece of toast in his hand before he’s gone again.

Usually, I’m left behind when work calls him away on shoots. I’m nineteen, after all. I graduated high school last summer, and now it’s time to figure out my own path. And if some nights our apartment is so full of echoes and shadows that I can’t sleep… well, I’ll get over it. I’ll buy a night light or something. But this time, Jake called me from the airport, bursting with excitement for this next big project.

A documentary for a big name channel, all about people who choose to live offshore. And two weeks at sea, paid for by the channel. With room for Damian to come on as project manager, Jake said, so proud and excited. Damian, and little old me.

He didn’t need to sell me the rest. My brother could have told me I’d be spending two weeks sleeping in a ditch, and I’d have gone if Damian would be there. Curled around me. Glancing at me with those dark eyes, his gaze lingering just a few seconds too long.

I shiver, biting my lip as I slow to a walk beside Jake’s boat. It’s big—some kind of expedition yacht. A sturdier, more rugged version than its luxury siblings. The metal sides loom out of the water, towering above me, and I have to tilt my head back to see the railings surrounding the top deck.

“Rox!” Jake clatters down a wooden plank, his face stretched into a goofy grin. He meets me in a few strides of his long legs, scooping me up in a hug and swinging me around, heavy backpack and all. I laugh, face squashed against his chest, the zipper of his sweater digging into my cheek.

“I missed you so much.” He puts me down and ruffles my dark hair, messing it up even worse than the sea breeze. His hair is just as dark as mine, sticking up from the way he constantly drags his hands through it, and his jaw is dusted with stubble.

Behind him, a figure appears at the top of the ramp, strong arms crossed over a broad chest. My mouth runs dry. “I’m glad you’re here, Rox. Now I can keep an eye on you.” Jake winks, turning to call over his shoulder, “Right, man?”

“Right.” Damian’s voice is much calmer than Jake’s as he strides down the ramp to the stone jetty. He’s always been the steady force, anchoring Jake’s creative chaos. Damian Flint is unflappable. Stern. The most solid man I’ve ever met.

I stare at him, heart skittering in my chest.

“Hello, Roxy.” He smiles at me, polite but distant. Jake finds it hilarious, how formal Damian is with me. The way he never teases me, never lets the two of us be alone. Both men are in their thirties, but Jake still ribs him like they’re in college. “How are you?”

I lick my lips, my voice coming out in a whisper. “I’m good, thank you.”

This is the problem. My crush on Damian has been festering inside me since I first really looked at a man. It’s a real, solid thing inside me: a heavy, dense lump that sits in my chest and crowds out my lungs. My pulse races at merely the thought of him. I flush hot when I hear only the timber of his voice.

So even though I’m a grown woman now, an adult trying to find her way in the world, Damian makes me feel like a stuttering teenager again.

A silly girl with a silly infatuation.

No one he could ever really want.

Jake snorts, slinging his arm around my shoulders, and guides me towards the boat. “You’ll have to learn to talk to him soon, Rox.” What is he doing? Damian can hear him. My cheeks flush crimson, and I fight the urge to push Jake off the jetty. “Two weeks is a long time to spend out there on the ocean. Just the three of us, the captain and the crew.”

A thought seems to occur to Jake, crinkling his forehead, and he gives me a little shake. “Don’t go cozying up to any of the crew, you hear?”

I steal a glance over at Damian and find his brown eyes already on me. He waits for my answer too, his jaw clenched shut, the morning sunshine glinting off gold strands of his dark blond hair.

“I won’t,” I promise, but I say it to him. Jake can huff and puff all he likes, but my brother doesn’t own me. I’m a grown woman and I can make my own decisions.

Damian, on the other hand…

He doesn’t own me either. But I sure do wish he’d try.