Hera, to my relief, is doing an excellent job of keeping herself in check.
I tilt my head up, meeting Finn’s blue eyes. He holds me there—just a moment longer than necessary—before I straighten, slipping from his hold.
“Thank you,” I murmur, turning away to secure the back line around the cleat.
Finn chuckles, moving to tie off the front mooring line.
“Well, I do need you to get us out of here safely.”
By now, the boat has drifted smoothly into the middle of the channel. Together, we lower the sail, Finn taking position at the helm while I carefully let the sail out. The canvas flutters, then fills with wind—and just like that, we’re moving.
Finn glances at the nav display, then out at the open water.
“We have definitely lucked out with the wind direction.”
I cast a glance skyward,
