Page 81 of Viking Vengeance Cruise

“It’s traditional,” Wes says, grinning. “The Finns believe you haven’t truly lived until you’ve had reason to wonder whether you’ll continue to.”

Nettie stretches out on her bench, and her towel threatens to stage a walkout. “I could live here. Just exist in a permanent state of warm relaxation. Never make another decision again. Let the sauna decide everything for me from here on out.”

“The sauna would make safer choices,” Bess says. “So would a coin toss, a Magic 8 Ball, and a raccoon pulling levers at random.”

We all share a quick chuckle, even Nettie, who oddly seems flattered more than anything.

“Truth be told, we should’ve handed her decisions over to inanimate objects decades ago,” Bess goes on. “Vermont would still have its reputation, and that poor man in Scooter Springs would still have his boat.”

Both Bess and Nettie are from Vermont. And honestly? All of Vermont is safer for the fact they’re living on a cruise ship. But I’ll never say that out loud. Come to think of it, Maine is probably safer without me in it as well.

Marina laughs, and it’s such a genuine sound that we all turn to look at her. She catches herself and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Sorry. That was just funny. The part about the raccoon.”

“Don’t apologize for laughing,” Wes says, and his voice has gone softer. “You should do it more often.”

Her entire body turns pink, and I don’t think the stones can take credit for it.

Bess catches the exchange too, and she shoots me a look that says we’ll be convening a committee on this later. I plan to chair it. There will be snacks.

“So,” Nettie says from on high. “Scale of one to ten, how weird is it that six grown adults are sitting around naked in a glorified cigar box together?”

“We’re in towels,” Bess corrects.

“Hand towels,” Nettie notes.

“Bath sheets, actually,” Wes says. “I requested the large ones specifically.”

Ransom tips his head. “That’s the most heroic thing you’ve done all cruise.”

Wes presses a hand to his chest. “Finally. The recognition I deserve.”

Ransom shifts beside me. “This is definitely in my top five strangest crew-bonding experiences.”

“What are the other four?” I ask.

“I’m almost afraid to tell you. You might just use them against me.”

“Absolutely I will,” I say. “A wife needs ammunition. It’s in the vows, right after the part about sickness and health.”

Wes leans back against the cedar wall and closes his eyes. “I once had a first mate who insisted we do team-building exercises in the ship’s freezer. He said it would build character.”

“Did it?” Marina asks.

“No. It built resentment and two cases of mild hypothermia.”

“Back home they’d call that a Monday,” Bess says. “Vermont is basically a freezer with maple syrup.”

“See?” Nettie waves a hand at the lot of us. “This is much better. We’ve got warm resentment happening here.”

“There’s no resentment,” I protest.

“Give it ten more minutes,” Bess says.

The heat continues to build, wrapping around us like a blanket fresh from the dryer, and Wes keeps sneaking glances at Marina whenever he thinks no one’s looking. She’s doing the same thing right back, quick little looks whenever his eyes close, her mouth curving before she can stop it. It’s adorable, and it’s also making me want to demand they figure out whatever’s happening between them. But then I think they already know. I don’t see how they couldn’t.

Everyone else knows. Heck, the stones know.

“Question,” Nettie announces. “If you had to fight a Viking, and I mean a real Viking, not a book boyfriend Viking, would you rather face them on land or at sea?”