I grunted as I pulled the sheet in. I could hear Grant and Sarah calling out to one another almost as if they were singing a duet as they pulled on ropes and scampered around the deck.
Grant fell behind us slightly, and I grinned until I realized what he was doing. As I started to work the jib sail in order to tack again, he went slightly to the side of our boat, forcing us to continue straight instead of zigzagging. He was going to force us off path and make us work that much harder to come back.
Robbie snarled with frustration as he attempted to tack again, but found Grant's boat directly in his path. He frowned and shouted out an order to fix the mainsail, and I hopped to the sheet, pulling and winching the sail into a different position. We had to change our position, or we would sail past the buoy and
miss the turn.
We slowed slightly and overlapped his boat with ours.
I could hear Grant curse as we took the wind out of his sails, our own sails catching the breeze before it could power his. Grant called with authority to Sarah, and she called back as they worked to free themselves from our overlap. The buoy was coming up fast, and I began to pull the jib. Robbie yelled that it was too early, but the damage was done.
As we rounded the turning mark, Grant sped ahead, free in his own wind again. I growled; the rope slid under my hands as I attempted to maneuver the sail back into the proper position. Robbie yelled a command, thinking I already had the sheet in position; I struggled to finish the maneuver, but I could feel the boat slow again. I cursed again, feeling out of sync with Robbie and the boat.
Grant sped forward.
The Gauntlet had taken control of the race and was dominating. Grant had found a current and was using it in addition to the sails to propel him faster. I could see the two of them in the other boat, performing the maneuvers that I knew we needed to perform, but doing them just seconds faster. Grant and Sarah were a well-oiled team with far more practice working together than Robbie and I had. Every turn, every tack, every shift in the wind they caught and adapted just seconds faster. In a race like this, those seconds added up quickly, and it wasn't long before The Gauntlet was well over two boat lengths ahead. It was a death by a thousand cuts as we continued to lose ground.
The race was over. We had lost. I took down the sails as we trailed into the harbor, coming alongside The Gauntlet. Grant leaned against the railing of his boat, smugness spilling off him in waves.
"Nice of you two to finally arrive. We were afraid you weren't going to make it." He laughed mockingly. "Well, at least it's nice to know we won't have to worry about you two on race day."
Robbie stiffened at the helm, his body taut with defeat. My hands clenched against the line, wishing I could wrap it around Grant's throat for just a minute. "The race is still a ways away," Robbie growled. "You won't be so lucky then."
Grant waved his hand dismissively. "Keep that positive mindset, Saunders. I'm sure it will make you feel better when you lose next week." He nodded to Sarah, and she turned the helm to steer away. Their gray sails were filled with wind and victory. Grant gave a sloppy salute and winked at me. "Nice boat, Ms. Conners."
My hands shook as I kept them at my sides. Grant's laughter drifted across the water as we bobbed in the harbor and evaluated our loss. I was furious, more at myself than with Grant. We had lost because we weren't as in sync as they were. What was I even thinking, entering into a race as prestigious as the Invitational with only a week's practice?
Robbie scrubbed his hands through his sandy hair, irritation in his every movement. He placed both hands on the railing, closed his eyes, and took a deep, calming breath. I was half afraid he was going to tell me we should just call the whole thing off. We weren't ready.
"We almost had him. We just need more practice." Robbie opened his eyes and looked right at me. "He made mistakes too. Now we know what we're up against. We'll beat him into the lake bottom on race day."
His eyes burned with a green fire that told me he wasn't going to give this up. Robbie Saunders was going to win the Champion of Champions Invitational or die trying. He went to the helm, his every movement full of purpose. We had a lot of work ahead of us until the race, and he wasn't going to let either of us slow down or give up.
"Tacking drill number nine?" I asked, feeling some of his intensity rubbing off on me. We could do this. We were a team, and together, Robbie and I could do anything.
Robbie nodded, and I went to the sails to start the drill. We had work to do.
Chapter 15
I stumbled into the bedroom and started stripping. Everything was sore. I didn't know it was even possible for my eyelashes to ache, but somehow they did. All I wanted was to crawl into a hot shower, eat something full of carbs and fat, and crawl into bed with Robbie.
We had been sailing nonstop for three days since losing the race to Thomas Grant. Robbie had taken the loss personally and was determined to get us ready for the Invitational. We had risen before the sun today, stopping our tacking drills only long enough to eat a quick lunch. A storm was beginning to brew. Not a hurricane, but it was bad enough that the sails were tangling and the going was rough. I was grateful he had decided to let us end the day early. I was so tired I was starting to make mistakes.
We still had one more day of practice left on the island before leaving for Chicago for the race. Even though the Invitational was still three days away, I was already nervous. We had improved dramatically in the short time since our race with Grant, but I still wasn't sure if we were ready.
I could hear Robbie dropping his gear on the floor by the staircase and his heavy footsteps thudding up the stairs. A gust of wind hit the window, splattering fat raindrops across the glass. I peeled off my shirt and leggings, hearing the encrusted salt crunch as I dropped them on the floor. I kicked off my remaining clothes, enjoying the freedom of being naked, and pulled open the double doors to the master bath.
I gasped. Rose petals dotted the white marble floor and floated on a sea of iridescent bubbles in the giant bath tub. Steam from the hot bath blurred the reflection of all the candles in the mirror. I stood and stared at the flowers, bath, and candles. It was the most romantic thing I had ever seen.
"Surprise," Robbie said softly, coming up behind me. He draped his arms over my shoulders, pulling me close to him and pressing my bare back into his bare chest. "I thought you could use a little relaxation. We've both been working hard."
"How'd you do this?" I asked, enjoying the way his warm skin felt against mine. I hoped he would join me in the bath.
His chuckle reverberated through my body. "The beauty of having a butler is that not only does he make coffee in the morning, he can also set stuff up like this." He released me and stepped into the bathroom. "Come on! The water's getting cold."
I took a moment to savor the sight of his perfectly sculpted ass as he bent over the tub to check the temperature of the water. The thought of smacking it sent a shiver of delight down my spine. I suddenly wasn't quite so tired and wanted a new kind of soreness.
I slipped past him, my fingernails rubbing up his spine as I stepped into the tub. Robbie's eyes were level with my ass, and I could tell he was admiring me. I sat down, and the water level rose to meet me. When I laid back, Robbie was right there, his hand providing a pillow for me to lean against. I relaxed, snuggling into him.