Today, as Harper walked by his boat—aptly named The Dirty Gull—Daniel was standing shirtless on the deck, even though the air was chilled from the wind blowing across the bay.

He had his back to her, so she could see the tattoo that stretched across it. The roots started just above his pants, and the trunk grew upward, over his spine, then twisted to the side. Thick black branches extended out, covering his shoulder and going down his right arm.

She held her hand to the side of her face, saving herself from looking at him. Just because he had pants on and appeared to be pinning his clothes on a line to dry didn’t mean he wouldn’t drop trou at any moment.

Because of her attempts to shield her vision, Harper didn’t see anything. It wasn’t until Daniel shouted, “Watch out!” that she looked up, and a sopping-wet something smacked her in the face.

It knocked her off balance, and Harper fell back onto the dock, landing unceremoniously on her butt. Daniel jumped over the railing on the bow and landed on the dock.

Harper immediately ripped the something from her face, still unsure of what it was exactly, except that it was wet and came from Daniel, so she could only assume that it was something horrendous.

“Sorry about that,” Daniel said, but he was laughing as he picked up the item from where she’d thrown it aside. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Harper snapped. He held out his hand to help her up, but she swatted it away and got to her feet. “No thanks to you.”

“I really am sorry,” Daniel repeated. He kept smiling at her, but he managed to look sheepish about it, so Harper decided to hate him a little less. But only a little.

“What was that?” Harper asked, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

“Just a T-shirt.” He unballed it and held it out to reveal an ordinary Hanes shirt. “A clean shirt. I was hanging my laundry up to dry, and the wind got ahold of it and blew it out to you.”

“You’re hanging your clothes up now?” Harper gestured at the overcast sky. “That’s completely idiotic.”

“Well, I was running out of clean clothes.” Daniel shrugged and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. Harper could never tell if it was dirty blond or just dirty. “I know some ladies wouldn’t mind if I ran around without clothes, but—”

“Yeah, right.” Harper made a disgusted sound in her throat, which only made Daniel laugh again.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am. I know you don’t believe me, but you can let me make it up to you.”

“You can make it up to me by not traumatizing me every time I walk by,” Harper suggested.

“Traumatize?” Daniel smirked and raised an eyebrow. “It was just a T-shirt, Harper.”

“Yeah, it was just a T-shirt this time.” Harper glared at him. “You’re not even supposed to be living on these boats. Why don’t you get a real place, and this won’t be a problem?”