“Should we place bets?” Kenan’s voice reached me.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him approaching from the covered area of the ferry. This wasn’t our first ferry trip together. I couldn’t recall exactly when, but before his father had died, our families had taken a few trips together on the ferry. One trip was to Kodiak Island, where we saw the massive famed Kodiak brown bears. Back then, Kenan had teased me when my mouth dropped open at the size of the bears, even from a distance.

  Over the years, we’d casually kept a tally of what wildlife we might see. Moose weren’t included because they were far too common in Alaska. Ferry trips weren’t so common. I wasn’t even sure I’d taken one with him since we were adults.

  “Seagull?” I teased as he stopped beside me.

  On cue, a seagull called raucously nearby. Kenan and I turned and glanced behind us, watching as the ferry pulled farther away from Fireweed Harbor. Our cute hometown was becoming distant. We could see the boats bobbing in the harbor and the streets winding up along the hillside into the foothills of the mountains.

  I turned forward again, looking ahead. The ferry would stay within view of the shoreline for the first part of this trip. We stopped in Haines before the ferry would approach Southcentral Alaska, where we would dock in Whittier. McKenna had sent Kenan and me a joint email with the itinerary. She had rented us a car there.

  With a number of employees from Fireweed Industries, primarily the winery, coming to this opening, she had reserved a block of rooms at a local lodge in Willow Brook where we would all be staying. Kenan and I had rooms side by side. I’d resisted the urge to ask Tish to move my room away from his because that would only send up the smoke signal of gossip about us.

  “We might see a humpback,” he commented. “And orcas. And what are those little porpoises, the fastest ones in the world?” he prompted.

  “Dall’s porpoises,” I replied.

  “Oh, right. I’m sure we’ll also see some seals and otters when we dock in Haines. I’d love to see some sea lions basking in the sun. How about a salmon shark?” he asked.

  “We could see some Sitka deer in the foothills. Do we count those?” I asked.

  “Absolutely. Only moose are off-limits. There are just too many of them,” Kenan said firmly.

  My lips curled into a smile. We were teasing, but this felt like our usual easy interactions. My heart gave a tricky beat in my chest, stumbling and almost tripping. When I glanced up at him, my belly felt funny, and tingles radiated outward. I knew he’d been teasing a little the other day when he told me I had until this trip to decide what I wanted with us. I knew I could tell him I didn’t know, and he would respect that.

  Yet I wanted him. No matter how crazy it was—how stupid, foolish, reckless, and more—I also knew I wanted to see where things could go for us.

  Feathering along the edges of my thoughts whenever I contemplated this, which was just about every spare moment I had, was the reality that I had an appointment coming up soon and was planning to start treatments for IVF.

  I hadn’t told anyone about this—other than my doctor, of course. I told myself it was no one’s business. My mother was fretting and wanted grandchildren. With my older brother living out of town, she had her hopes pinned on me to be the one who would give her the chance to do lots of doting opportunities for the imagined babies.

  My brother was an engineer in Diamond Creek, Alaska. He had taken a position as a consultant for the Fireweed Industries venture in Willow Brook, although he would remain in Diamond Creek, because he loved it there.

  Meanwhile, my mother was worried because she feared she would never have any grandchildren. I didn’t even know how she would feel if I told her my plans around IVF. I hoped she would be thrilled, but I didn’t want to let her down if it didn’t work out.

  “Quinn?” Kenan prompted.

  I glanced up. “Yeah?”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  He nudged me with his elbow in a familiar gesture that usually meant he was teasing. It was nothing much. Yet every touch from him, even that glancing touch, sent my belly into a little flip.

  I shrugged, not about to tell him I was thinking about IVF treatments. “Nothing.”

  A bracing gust of wind blew across the deck, making me shiver slightly. “Let’s go in,” he said, sliding an arm around my shoulders and steering me toward the covered area of the ferry.

  The Alaskan ferry system was beloved. It ferried locals and visitors all up and down the coastline. There were different ferries, but they were all similar. There was an exposed open area on two levels, another outside covered area, and an inside space. This ferry had a movie theater, small cabins, and a cafeteria-style eatery with three meals served daily and snacks available.

  In the summer, people could set up tents out on the open deck and under the covered area. They even had heat lamps above.

  Just getting out from the wind was a relief. I didn’t know what to think about how I felt with Kenan’s arm curled over my shoulders. Even before our kisses and more, he had put his arm around my shoulders plenty of times. I just never thought much of it beyond a friendly gesture.

  Now, I savored the feel of it and the sense of being sheltered and protected. He kept walking, coaxing me through a doorway leading into an open dining area by the cafeteria with booths lining the windows.

  “Want some hot cocoa?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

  “I’d love some.”

  “You grab a booth, and I’ll get two mugs for us.”

  His arm fell away from my shoulders, and I instantly missed the feel of his touch.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” I chided myself.

  With a mental shake, I scanned the available booths, selecting one toward the center with a good view of the shoreline. Kenan arrived only moments later, handing me one of the cups. The hot cocoa came from one of those automated machines. It wasn’t amazing, but it was pretty good and all part of the ferry experience. I remembered loving these ferry rides with my parents and brother when I was younger. They were distinctly an Alaskan experience.

  Kenan sat across from me, one of his knees bumping mine as he slipped into the booth. The subtle, brushing touch sent a jolt of electricity spinning through my body. I curled my hands around the warm paper cup before lifting it and taking a swallow. The rich, chocolatey flavor slid across my tongue. Lowering the cup, I said, “Perfect. Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you know what time we dock in Haines?” I asked.

  Kenan shifted to the side slightly to reach down and get his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. His calf bumped mine, and his foot slid between mine. He left it there as he lifted his phone. It was nothing, I told myself. Yet it felt intimate and affectionate to have his foot between mine.

  He tapped on his screen. “I saved the schedule.” A second later, he added, “In two hours, there’s a movie tonight. Are we going?”

  “If you want to, I’m game.”

  “It’s the whole experience, Quinn. We’ve gotta do the movie.” He leaned forward with a grin.

  I laughed. “Let’s do it.”

  We fell into silence as we sipped our hot cocoa and were looking out the windows when an announcement came over the speakers from the captain. “For your information, a school of Dall’s porpoises is swimming nearby. They’re the fastest porpoises in the world. You can see them out on the main deck.”

  “Let’s go.” Kenan waggled his brows.

  We hurried toward the deck along with some other passengers. Watching over the edge of the railing, we enjoyed the view of the tiny porpoises as they zipped through the water, curling over the surface and diving down as they zoomed alongside the front of the ferry.

  I glanced at Kenan, feeling a rush of joy. I loved seeing wildlife of any kind. I knew he did too. When he smiled down at me, my heart flipped in my chest.

  Only moments later, the porpoises zoomed out of view, and we returned inside to reclaim the same booth. “Have you seen those before?” I asked once we were seated again.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied. “Maybe when we were kids. Definitely not on any of our regular fishing trips. What about you?”

  “I’m not sure either. Maybe on one of the ferry trips with my parents and brother when I was younger.”

  “On a more serious note,” he began a moment later. “Any concerns about this situation with the land?”

  I shook my head. “None at all. Legally, we’re in the clear.” I shrugged. “It’s just another business being greedy. It’s not as if Fireweed Industries didn’t do similar things before, especially earlier on. But we currently own the land, and we’re giving it back to the tribe. That’s the way it is. This meeting is just a formality. They filed in court, and it didn’t go anywhere, so they’re trying to negotiate something else. We’re not going for it.”

  Kenan cocked his head to the side, studying me for a few beats. “You kick ass,” he said after a long moment.

  “I don’t recall kicking any asses,” I teased lightly.

  “You’re always the smartest person in the room. You have your shit together, and you kick ass at your job. I like that about you.”

  His eyes twinkled with his grin, and my heart gave another tricky beat. “You kick ass too,” I returned with a firm nod.

  “I don’t recall kicking any asses lately,” he lobbed right back at me.

  “You do, and you know it.”

  His gaze sobered a little, and he shrugged. “Maybe.”

  I nudged one of my knees against his. “You do. I know you don’t always believe it, but you do. You play it off like you’re not the smartest in the family. Maybe Adam’s a genius with numbers, but you’re just as smart as he is. You’re also flexible. That’s why you’re a fixer.”

  “You make it sound like I’m in the mob,” he teased

  I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kenan

  You know what I mean.

  Quinn’s words repeated in my thoughts. Reminding me, yet again, why she was such a good friend. It wasn’t as if I contemplated it often, but I knew she respected me. I knew she didn’t dismiss me. Not that I thought others did. But somehow, I tended to feel as if I slipped unnoticed between the cracks in my family.

  I loved being a part of a big family because you never felt alone, yet our family could be defining. I would never complain about the privilege I had. We were financially very comfortable. Even though I could tell myself it was because our family worked hard, which was true, it was still a privilege, and there were a few strokes of luck to it. Our world tended to forget that detail. Oh sure, people did work hard, but timing and opportunity didn’t always strike. Those factors had worked out for our family.

  While I loved being a part of a messy bunch of siblings, we carried our own share of trauma and skeletons in the closet, some of them more public than others. My mind spun to our grandfather, who had recently been sentenced for embezzlement.

  He was old enough that it would hurt for him to spend time in jail. But it was nothing compared to the crimes he should be paying for, the emotional abuse, the verbal abuse, the casual slaps against some of us, and the sexual abuse of our oldest brother, who’d likely drank himself to death as a result of that trauma.

  Jake had chased after the numbness of losing himself in a haze of alcohol. It was a bitter twist, knowing that our family’s initial fortune had been built from the winery and brewery, which we still ran and still made lots of money from. Fireweed Brewery was a high-end beer and wine business. Our grandfather had invested the initial rush of earnings wisely, creating the massive business we now owned.

  I gave my head a shake. I didn’t need to be contemplating my family. It was part of my identity, and I was the brother who had the least defined role, the one called upon to do the odds and ends jobs. Just a few weeks ago, Blake had called me in a panic because of an equipment failure in the production area. The main brewer was out for the day, so I had shown up and helped him get it fixed. He was pretty hands-on, but I was even more handy than he was.

  Blake was leaning hard on our brother Wyatt to come take over as the main brewer. Our current one had plans to move to Juneau with his pregnant wife. We had a smaller location there, and the guy would keep a job with us, but Blake needed someone in Fireweed Harbor. I didn’t particularly want that job, but it smarted that he didn’t even think to ask me.

  Quinn’s faith in me was just there. We had slipped so easily into deepening our friendship. It wasn’t that we weren’t friends growing up. I’d known her, of course. Our families were close, and we’d been friendly. But it wasn’t until we had both left town and returned after college that our connection strengthened. I felt like myself with her in a way I didn’t with others.

  I stepped out of the shower in the small ferry cabin. The ferries were nice in Alaska, but the cabins were utilitarian. The two bunks tucked into the side of the narrow space had just enough room for a small counter with a tiny refrigerator beside it and a microwave. A narrow nook for luggage was across from a tiny bathroom with a sink, a toilet, and a stand-up shower.

  I eyed myself in the mirror, running my palm over my cheek as I contemplated whether to shave. Sometimes I grew a trimmed beard during the winter.

  I shrugged, deciding against it. It was just a five o’clock shadow. I would shave tomorrow morning before we landed in Whittier for the drive to Willow Brook.

  As I dressed, anticipation buzzed through me. Although I very much wanted Quinn, I was doubting how I’d thrown a challenge out to her about deciding what she wanted by tonight.

  I never wanted to back down from a dare, and I wanted Quinn with a ferocity that shocked me.

  You’ve already made it complicated, and you can’t undo it.

  I kept telling myself I could handle this. Yet my heart started to want something I’d never contemplated. Even though my two older brothers had defied the odds and fallen in love, I just didn’t think it was for me. It was messy and complicated. My self-doubt ran deep. Maybe I couldn’t be enough for anyone.

  I forcefully kicked those thoughts to the curb and tucked the key to my room in my pocket. A moment later, I stopped by the door immediately beside mine and knocked lightly.

  It opened instantly, and Quinn smiled up at me. “Ready?” I asked.

  “I opened the door,” she replied dryly.

  I took a quick breath as she stepped out. Her hair was down, and I wanted to slide my hand into it and kiss her. Right here, right now.

  Just then, the door across the hall from her cabin opened. Quinn pulled the door shut on her room, quickly stepping back.

  An elderly couple came out and smiled over at us. “Hi,” the woman said.

  “Hello,” Quinn and I said simultaneously. I gestured for the couple to walk ahead of us down the narrow hallway.

  A few minutes later, Quinn and I sat at the booth with our dinner trays in the cafeteria as the elderly couple strolled around with their trays. No empty booths were available. I glanced over at Quinn. “We should let them sit with us.”

  Her gaze followed mine. “Oh, of course.”

  She scooted to the side of her booth as I did the same, calling over to them, “You’re welcome to share our booth.”

  They sat down, both thanking us profusely. After introductions, we chatted about the weather, the trip, learning that they were from Haines, and taking a trip up to Anchorage to visit family.

  “We love taking the ferry,” Maria said.

  Her husband, Mike, chimed in, “We do!”

  “And what about you two?” Maria prompted.

  “Oh, we’re taking the ferry to Whittier and getting a rental car to go to Willow Brook for a business and family event,” I offered.

  Maria smiled brightly. “I love seeing young couples. The ferry is good luck for married couples.”

  I opened my mouth to correct them when Mike nodded in agreement. “We were married on a ferry trip. It’s a good luck charm for our whole marriage.”

  “Oh, that’s really sweet,” Quinn said. “By the way, we’re not married, just friends.”

  Maria looked back and forth between us. “You’re not? Well, you make an excellent couple. I know young people are different, but I can tell by just a few minutes with you two. You’re more than friends and make a solid couple.”

  Once again, Mike chimed in, “Absolutely. My Maria knows when a couple is going to make it.” His gaze slid to mine. “Don’t let her get away.”

  I felt Quinn’s foot nudge mine under the table and could see the laughter dancing in her eyes. A few minutes later, we had finished our dinners. We said our goodbyes and made our way out of the cafeteria.

  “When does the movie start?” Quinn asked a few minutes later as we stood out by the railing. Darkness had fallen, and it was decidedly cold out on the deck. Quinn had wanted to come out and look at the stars.

  I glanced at my watch, tapping so that the digital screen was visible. “Ten minutes. We should get in there. It’s been a while since I was on the ferry for a movie, but it can fill up pretty quickly.”

  “We should stop by our rooms and grab a blanket or something.”

  Quinn leaned her head back and took a deep, audible breath. “I love the air at night on the ferry. It’s probably the freshest air in the world.”

  I took my own breath. The air was crisp and cold, scented with salt from the ocean. The stars shone brightly, and the moon rose in the sky, leaving a glittering path on the ocean’s dark surface.

  Moments later, we had fetched blankets and pillows from our rooms. Quinn huffed, but let me carry them. We found a spot off to the side toward the back after getting popcorn from the cafeteria.