Veritas

by Duncan, MJ

  Lauren looked up from what she was doing and smiled hesitantly at Grey, unsure of where things between them stood after the way Grey had run out on her the night before. “Good morning. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be up yet.”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” Grey muttered as she glanced at the glass baking dish in front of Lauren. “Whatcha making?”

  “Crème brûlée french toast.”

  “Looks good. You want some more coffee?” Grey tipped her head at Lauren’s empty cup. She could hear the tenseness in her tone, but she was relieved to see that Lauren did not seem to notice it.

  “That would be great, thanks,” Lauren murmured, smiling as she handed her mug to Grey.

  Grey took the plain red mug without a word and set it down on the counter as her mug finished filling. While she waited, she watched Lauren cover the glass dish with a sheet of foil and set it into the fridge beside a second dish that she had already prepared. She glanced at her watch to double-check that it was, in fact, stupid-early o’clock, and arched a brow questioningly at Lauren as she switched out the mugs and put a fresh coffee pod into the machine. “How long have you been awake?”

  “A while,” Lauren confessed with a shy smile, not wanting to admit that she had lain awake for most of the night trying to figure out what she had done to make Grey so uneasy around her. She started rinsing out the dishes she had used to prepare breakfast and asked, “So, how long have you been doing this?”

  “The charter thing?” The machine beside Grey stopped spitting coffee into Lauren’s mug, and she set it down beside the sink. “Eleven years.”

  Lauren looked up in surprise. “Really? What’d you do, start doing this right out of college?”

  “Pretty much. I came down here when I was twenty-three,” Grey said as she walked out of the U-shaped galley and sat down at one of the barstools on the opposite side of the peninsula. The physical barrier helped her feel more at ease, and her pulse slowed to a more regular tempo as she watched Lauren over the rim of her mug.

  “Wow.” Lauren pursed her lips thoughtfully as she debated which question she could ask next that wouldn’t have Grey shutting down on her and running from the room. “And what made you want to captain a charter yacht?”

  Grey looked out the glass doors to her left, her eyes tracing the contours of the mountains surrounding the bay that stood in dark contrast to the slate blue sky. “I sailed around by myself for a year, but that got boring pretty fast, so I figured it was the easiest way to do what I loved and not be totally alone.”

  “You own the Veritas?” Lauren’s eyes grew wide as she looked around the salon of the seventy-five-foot catamaran. She had no idea how much a boat like this would cost, but she knew that it had to be at least a few million.

  “Yep,” Grey said, a proud smile quirking her lips as she looked around her boat. She caught the look of disbelief Lauren was giving her and shrugged. “I was a computer science major at UCSD back before it was cool to be a computer science major, and wrote a couple algorithms that streamlined internet searches, effectively weeding out irrelevant data to return more accurate results, and was able to sell them for a tidy profit.”

  “Holy shit. You invented Google?”

  Grey laughed and shook her head. “No. I just wrote a couple programs that made sites like Google work better.”

  “Damn,” Lauren drawled as she started washing the things she had used to prepare breakfast.

  Grey chuckled. “Anyways, I grew up racing two-man cats with my dad, so coming down here and buying a boat seemed like a no-brainer. And the rest, as they say, is history.” She took another sip of her coffee and watched Lauren thoughtfully dry a glass mixing bowl. “What about you? What made you decide to go to culinary school?”

  “I just always loved cooking.” Lauren rolled her eyes as she set the bowl aside and reached for the dirty saucepan that was sitting on the stove. “And, well, New York seemed like a great adventure after growing up in the Midwest.”

  Pleased that they were managing to have an actual, albeit simple, conversation, Grey asked, “Where in the Midwest?”

  Lauren’s brow dropped as she stopped scrubbing the saucepan she had been cleaning. “Didn’t you look at my résumé before you hired me?”

  “Nope.” Grey shook her head. “Kelly Kipling is a good friend of mine, and I trusted her to find me a chef because I usually just steal hers for charters.”

  “Her chefs?”

  “She’s the general manager for Kipling Resorts here in the islands.”

  “Oh. I see,” Lauren drawled as she resumed cleaning. “I was wondering why, when I spoke with her on the phone, she asked me if I had ever considered heading a hotel kitchen.”

  Grey laughed and leaned back in her chair. “She’s always looking for new talent, and she was quite impressed with your résumé. So, anyways, back to the point: where in the Midwest are you from?”

  Lauren rinsed the soap from the saucepan and turned off the water. “Um, the Minneapolis area,” she answered as she picked up a dishtowel and began drying the pan. “How about you?”

  “Newport, Rhode Island.” Grey sipped at her coffee as they fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence now that the easy get-to-know-you type questions had been exhausted. She watched as Lauren finished drying the cookware and put it away, and then leaned back against the counter with her coffee mug in her hands. Grey’s eyes traced Lauren’s long fingers that were wrapped lightly around the red and blue ceramic mug she was holding, and she shook her head as she forced herself to look away. “So, um,” she started, trying to find another avenue of conversation to follow, “do you have a boyfriend back in New York?”

  “I haven’t had a boyfriend since I was in the ninth grade.” Lauren smiled as she watched understanding dawn in Grey’s eyes. “Not really my thing, ya know?”

  Grey nodded slowly, hating the way her heart seemed to leap into her throat at what Lauren had just revealed. “I, uh…” She looked down at her nearly empty mug and then at the sky outside that was still too dark for her to safely hit the water, and sighed. She needed space. “I should go shower and stuff before the Muellers get up,” she muttered, forcing herself to smile at Lauren as she slid off of her barstool.

  “Yeah,” Lauren murmured, her brow furrowing with confusion as she watched Grey leave. The sound of Grey’s cabin door clicking shut echoed quietly through the salon, and Lauren frowned as she turned to look out the window, unable to help but wonder why her being gay would make Grey so flustered.

  Chapter 8

  Grey knew that she needed to apologize to Lauren for running out on her. Not just because it was the second time she had done so in a relatively short amount of time, but because she had done it right after Lauren had come out to her. She of all people understood how badly her reaction could be taken, and she hated the idea of Lauren thinking that she was neither safe nor welcome aboard the Veritas because of who she was.

  No matter how much Grey knew that she needed to apologize, Fate seemed determined to keep her from doing so. She had intended to do it when she returned to the salon after showering, but Kim was already awake and chatting amiably with Lauren in the galley, and the day just got busier from there. Breakfast was followed by a quick sail to Leinster Bay for a morning of snorkeling where the boys spent more time running around the boat and jumping off the side into the water than they actually spent in the water itself. Lunch, followed by another short sail, and then clearing-in with British customs took up the middle of the afternoon, and as soon as their paperwork was in order she was back at the helm, sailing toward White Bay to tie-up for the night. Between dinner prep and playing hostess, she never had more than a minute or two alone with Lauren, and she knew that it was going to take more than a rushed “I’m sorry” to smooth things over.

  It was not until much later that night, when the dessert dishes had been cleared and put away and the Muellers were huddled around the port-side deck table playing a spirited game of Go Fish before th
e boys went to bed, that Grey finally had the opportunity to track Lauren down. Never truly being alone with Lauren should have made it easier for her to deal with the confusing mix of attraction and guilt that bubbled inside her, but for some reason it only left her feeling anxious. It was irrational and completely unexplainable, but the professionally polite distance they had maintained when dealing with each other all day just felt wrong.

  She eventually found Lauren sitting on the trampolines at the bow of the boat, and she took a deep breath to steel her resolve before she called out to her. “I’m sorry.”

  The words were soft, the voice unmistakable, and Lauren’s gaze was cautious as she looked up at Grey, who was holding a tumbler of a sable-colored alcohol out for her. It was clearly meant to be an olive branch, and she sighed as she reached out and took it. She was no closer to understanding why Grey had run out on her earlier, but if Grey was willing to try and talk about it, she was more than willing to listen. “Thanks. What is it?”

  Grey lowered herself onto the trampoline beside Lauren, and sighed as she lifted her eyes to the stars that shone brightly against the inky backdrop of the night sky. “Scotch. This is definitely a scotch kind of conversation.”

  Lauren sipped at her drink. It was smooth, with an unmistakable toffee flavor that was layered with citrus, cinnamon, and something else Lauren couldn’t quite identify, and she hummed approvingly as she swallowed. “What’s the label on this?”

  “Auchentoshan, Three Wood. It’s a distillery in the Scottish lowlands.” Grey took a generous swallow, not bothering to savor the taste of the alcohol, just using it as a numbing balm for the wounds she was about to rip open. “I’m sorry.”

  “You said that.” Lauren pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins, the tumbler in her right hand dangling loosely from her fingertips.

  “Well, I mean it.” Grey took another drink, smaller this time, and turned to look at Lauren, who was regarding her with an expectant look, one thin brow arched questioningly as she waited for her to continue. “I was an ass.”

  “Yeah, well,” Lauren murmured with a small shake of her head, “I don’t know if I’d go quite that far.”

  “I would.”

  The dejection in Grey’s tone made Lauren stop and look at her. The circles under Grey’s eyes were impossible to miss, even in the low light, and the resigned curve of her shoulders signaled utter defeat. Lauren sighed and leaned forward just far enough to catch Grey’s eye. “Hey. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” Grey shook her head. “I just…it wasn’t because you told me you were into women.”

  Lauren chuckled wryly and shot Grey a knowing look. “I would hope not. That would be pretty hypocritical of you, don’t you think?”

  “How…?”

  “I was at Jack’s on Friday night.” Lauren nodded as she watched understanding dawn in Grey’s expression. “I watched you pick up that blonde. She was pretty.”

  “She was a distraction,” Grey muttered as she looked back up at the stars. “They’re always just a distraction.”

  Lauren sighed and took another sip of her drink as the hollowness of Grey’s voice melted away any lingering frustration she might have felt toward her. There was obviously more to Grey’s story—a painful reason that Grey’s eyes looked so haunted whenever she caught her staring. Lauren had spent the day wishing for some kind of an explanation as to why Grey kept dancing around her, becoming friendly and then bolting away as if burned, but she realized that she did not want it. Not like this, anyway. “Look, don’t worry about this morning. We’re good.”

  Grey let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through her as she looked into warm hazel eyes that stared unblinkingly back at her. “You serious?”

  “Yeah.” Lauren nodded.

  “I…” The genuine smile curling Lauren’s lips was enough to convince Grey that Lauren meant it, and she sighed, her entire body relaxing at the reprieve. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Lauren lifted her glass in a silent toast before she took a small sip and turned her attention toward the horizon. She kept her gaze trained on the line where the inky black sea and the deep indigo sky met, purposefully ignoring Grey’s eyes that she could feel on her. She could have filled the air with meaningless chatter, but she enjoyed the quiet, and she had a feeling that Grey might need it too.

  Grey stared at Lauren, baffled by her forgiveness. She knew that she did not deserve such kindness, not after the way she had behaved from the moment they first met, but there was a serenity in Lauren’s expression that told her it was real.

  The silence that stretched between them was gentle and easy, a far cry from the tenseness that had surrounded them the day before, and the longer it lasted, the more relaxed Grey became. She felt the weight on her shoulders begin to lift ever so slightly, and she found herself able to breathe more fully than she had in a long time. It was surreal, how much better she felt sitting in silence beside a woman she barely knew—a woman who reminded her too much of someone she would never forget. It was strange and scary and kind of amazing, but the shadow of loss that had been her constant companion these last few years became less overwhelming with every breath she took.

  Time passed in a hazy blur, and Grey was surprised when she realized that the lights from the bedrooms that overlooked the bow had been turned off, leaving the Veritas illuminated by only the moon and the stars overhead. She could not remember the last time she had felt so at peace, and she selfishly wished that she had thought to bring the bottle of scotch out with her so that they would have an excuse to spend the rest of the night right where they were. It had been too long since she had felt this content, and her stomach dropped in disappointment when the sound of Lauren yawning quietly beside her signaled that it was all about to end.

  Lauren smiled apologetically at Grey. “I should probably go to bed. I need to wake up early again tomorrow to get breakfast ready.”

  “What are we having?” Grey asked, trying to extend the moment as long as possible, knowing the contentment she was feeling would disappear with Lauren.

  “I haven’t really decided yet. Is there anything special that you would like?” Lauren asked.

  “Waffles.”

  Lauren smiled at Grey’s quick reply, and nodded as she pushed herself to her feet. “All right. I’ll make waffles.” She leaned down to give Grey’s shoulder a light squeeze, hoping the gentle touch would reassure Grey that things between them were still okay. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Grey sighed and relaxed into the touch, soaking up the warmth it provided. “See you in the morning.”

  Chapter 9

  Lauren was sitting at the dining table nursing a cup of coffee and reading a book on her iPad when Grey wandered into the salon just after dawn the next morning. Hair still damp from her shower and wearing a pair of short white shorts and a faded red Lifeguard t-shirt, Grey looked relaxed and rested, and Lauren smiled when the brunette’s gaze traveled from the waffle machine on the counter in the galley to her. “Good morning,” she murmured, being careful to keep her voice down since everyone else was still sleeping.

  “You’re really making waffles,” Grey said, her voice tinged with excitement as she made her way into the galley to make herself a cup of coffee.

  “I told you I would. I’m going to fancy them up a bit and make cinnamon roll waffles, but if you’d prefer them plain, I can just not add the swirl and stuff to yours.”

  Grey shook her head. “You don’t need to make anything special for me.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Lauren assured her. “It’s just the toppings that would be different.”

  “Nah, what you’re planning on doing sounds great.” The coffee machine shut down with a hiss and a splutter, and Grey smiled shyly at Lauren as she picked up her mug. “I just really like waffles.”

  Lauren chuckled and smiled as she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, I got that.”

  The playful twinkle in
Lauren’s eyes made Grey’s stomach flutter, and she ran a hand through her hair as she looked at her. A good night’s sleep had done little to shed any light on why, exactly, she felt so at ease around Lauren, but she had decided while she was in the shower to just go with it. There was something about Lauren that drew her in, and the more she thought about Lauren, the harder it became to even think about avoiding her.

  Grey cleared her throat softly and hitched a thumb toward the back deck. “Would you, maybe, want to come up to the bridge and watch the sunrise?”

  Pleased that the détente they had reached the night before still seemed to be holding, Lauren nodded. “Sure. That sounds great.”

  The early morning air was cool but not uncomfortably so, and Lauren could not help but smile as she sat down on the sunbathing mat that was laid out in front of the helm up on the bridge. The sky along the horizon was streaked with orange and gold, while the space above clung stubbornly to the darker shades of night in the face of the rising sun. The air stirred with the ever-present trade winds blowing out of the east, and gulls swooped majestically overhead, their excited cries ringing in the new day as they dove for their breakfast.

  “Not bad, huh?” Grey asked as she sat down on the opposite end of the red mat from Lauren.

  “Not at all.” Lauren nodded and sipped at her coffee. She looked out at the horizon and smiled. “I used to go out with my dad on our boat when I was a kid to watch the sunrise. The mornings were usually cooler than this, and a lake in Minnesota obviously has nothing on the Caribbean, but I’ve always loved this time of day where everything is new and fresh and quiet.”

  “You probably don’t get a lot of quiet in New York.”

  “You can find it,” Lauren murmured, her eyes still trained on the horizon. “Not easily, of course, but if you go into the middle of Central Park early in the morning like this, you can almost forget that you’re on an island with over a million and a half other people.”