“Winnie like the Pooh?”

“Short for Winston.”

“You named your girl dog after Winston… Churchill?”

With a sigh, Graeme digs his phone out of his pocket. After a few taps, he extends the screen toward me. “The underbite.”

My jaw goes slack. I snatch the phone and hold it close to my face.

His dog is white with brown spots and hairless except for wispy tufts protruding from its forehead like a troll doll, and it has a lazy eye, wobbly jowls, and a severe underbite. Definitely not a purebred, like I’d assumed. It looks like a mix between one of those hairless crested breeds and an English bulldog.

“This is maybe the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen,” I breathe.

Lips pursed, Graeme scratches his eyebrow. “I know, right? No one else wanted her, even though she’s a sweet girl. She’d been at the shelter for too long and they were going to put her down, so I gave her a home.”

Just like my Noodles.

Something inside me splinters and cracks like an iceberg. I tear my gaze away from the phone to stare at Graeme. At his stubble-roughened jaw, his supple lips, and his eyes. His clear, kind eyes. I see it now, the tenderness, the honest concern for others.

He’s nothing like I thought.

“She’s perfect,” I murmur.

“I think so too,” he says softly.

But he’s not looking at the picture of his dog. He’s looking at me.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I hand him his phone back and our fingers brush. Every nerve lights up like fireworks. This time, I don’t pull away. Graeme brushes his thumb across my knuckles—accidentally? On purpose? He leans forward, eyes glinting.

“There are my two front office friends,” a voice booms, and I nearly jump out of my seat. I drop the phone and it lands on the table between us with a thunk. Graeme gathers it up and pockets it.

“Hi, Gustavo. I didn’t see you there. How are you?” I babble, trying to calm my runaway heart.

“Excellent, excellent,” says the cruise leader, clapping a hand on the back of my chair. “How was the hike this morning?”

“Amazing. I’m glad you talked me into it.”

“I am delighted to hear that. I will let James know.”

My throat constricts and I have to clear it twice before I can speak. “You… you’re in contact with James?”

“Sí, he emailed me yesterday. He asked me to keep an eye on you both while you’re on board. Especially you.” Laughing, he grasps my shoulders and jostles me in a friendly way, but my blood frosts.