With the day stormy and the seas rough, the woman played to a captive audience inside the crowded cabin. Adam was used to rough rides. He’d been taking the ferry all his life. Others weren’t so fortunate, and the distinctive sound of barfing soon filled the airless cabin.

Rough seas and rocking boats had never made him sick. The smell of vomit, however… No one was immune to that. He got up and told himself to get out of there. Walk to the door and the fresh air… But curiosity got the better of him, and he made the huge mistake of turning around.

His mouth fell open when he saw his brother Grant’s ex-girlfriend Abby Callahan scrambling for the garbage can.

While she was violently ill, Adam stood paralyzed with indecision. She hadn’t seen him, so he could still get out of there unscathed. And then, as if Adam had conjured him from a dream, Big Mac McCarthy’s voice sounded in his conscience, warning of dire consequences if Adam walked away from a family friend in her time of need.

Not for the first time in his adult life, Adam cursed the values his father had hammered into him and his brothers from the time they were young boys.

He took a deep breath he instantly regretted due to the pervasive smell of vomit filling the cabin, choked back a wave of nausea, walked toward her, took her by the arm and escorted her outside.

Naturally, she fought him off. “What do you think you’re doing?” Her words were garbled and slurred, and she smelled as if she’d spilled an entire bottle of eighty-proof something or other on her clothes.

“Did you sleep in a bar last night?” he asked when they were outside and both taking deep, gulping breaths of cold, damp, fresh air.

“Adam,” she gasped when she realized who he was. “No, I did not sleep in a bar. I had two drinks on the plane this morning, and the man in the next seat spilled his tequila all over me.”

Adam cringed at the thought of tequila for breakfast. Those days were a distant memory. “As I recall, you don’t drink.”

She wobbled when the boat pitched violently to the side, and he steadied her with a hand to her arm. “I had an occasional glass of wine,” she said as she pushed him away. “I’m all done being a nice girl who does what everyone expects of her. I’m going to drink and party and curse like a sailor and have sex with strangers and…” Her chin began to quiver.

“Don’t you dare cry.”

“I’ll cry if I want to. I’ll do any damned thing I want.”