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“Seriously.”
Placing my damp hand on the small of her back, I lead her across the gravel to the docks. She watched her feet the entire way, and I had to tell myself over and over that it wasn’t because she didn’t want this, it was just because her thin heels could get stuck in the gaps between the floating cement and wood. It’ll go well. It’ll go well. It’ll go well.
“This is us.” The S.S. Becks stood tall before us, the painted name on the side screaming at me in too-large letters. From the exterior, you’d never know that I hadn’t stepped foot on it myself in two years, let alone anyone else. It was the only thing that still filled me with anxiety, the thought of boarding. It made my throat close, my damp hands damper, that sinking feeling weighing me down and burying me beneath the water below us.
“You okay?”
I blinked the rain from my eyes as I looked down at her. So fucking sexy in that dress, so fucking ridiculous with that raincloud PAW Patrol umbrella. “I’m fine.”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said.
I chuckled lightly as I ushered her forward onto the ramp. “I did. You should’ve seen it. Big, see-through, scary. I think it had fangs.”
“Fangs? I think you might be confusing ghosts with vampires,” she laughed, folding her umbrella in as she stepped into the covered, lit area of the yacht. “Hudson?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you gonna… you know… get onboard?”
I stood at the edge where the ramp met solid, polished hardwood. The rain still fell over me, soaking me down to my bones, and that sinking feeling amplified tenfold. “Yeah,” I breathed, staring down at the threshold. It’s a step. One step, and it’s over. You’ll have done it.
A hand appeared in my field of vision, little raindrops hitting the skin and sliding down until they fell to the joining spot below. Painted nails, freckles. “Come on. You’ve got it.”
My throat closed as I took her offer, grasping her wet hand in mine. She pulled me toward her with one quick burst, forcing me over the threshold and into the warm light of the cabin of the ship. I stumbled forward into her, her back hitting the black marble wall. I caged her in unintentionally, my breathing rapid, my heart pounding. I couldn’t open my eyes, could only feel the water sliding off of me, dripping onto the floor and likely her face. I was onboard.
“Hey, hey,” she cooed, her hand reaching up to cup my cheek. She wiped the water from my face, my eyes. “You’re okay. Slow down your breathing.”
Fuck, I loved her.
I did as she said, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth to slow myself down. Finally, I forced my eyes to open, meeting her wide and worried gaze as she looked up at me. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Ah, there you two are! I was beginning to worry.”
I leaned back, putting that little bit of distance between us again and immediately regretting it. “Hey, Thomas,” I said, forcing the most polite grin to my face as possible as I turned toward the chef. “Sorry we’re late. The rain made it a little hard to see out there.”
“No problem, sir. Your dinner should be ready soon. Would you like me to fetch you a towel?”
“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll get one. Thank you.”
Thomas nodded before heading back off to the kitchen, leaving us in heavy silence. I glanced around the ship, taking in as much as I could see from the entryway. The cleaning crew had, I assumed, done a fantastic job. I didn’t know the state it had been left in, didn’t know how bad it had gotten over the years since, but it looked brand new again.
“Did you bring any other clothes? I can go grab them from the car,” Sophie offered, her hand resting gently against my arm. “You’re soaked straight through.”
“I think I’ve still got some in the bedroom. I’ll have a look.”
————
The snort of a laugh Sophie let out as I walked into the dining room told me she could see just how ill-fitting the clothes I’d found were. They were two years old, and in those two years, I’d packed on a fair bit of extra muscle. I just had to pray that the buttons on my shirt didn’t fly off into my food.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I smirked, plopping into my chair before her with one hand on the closures of my buttons. “It was all that was left in the closet.”
“I’m not laughing,” she insisted, one hand coming up to cover the growing grin on her face. “I actually kind of like it. Shows off everything.”
“You have already seen me naked. Surely this must be nothing for you,” I said, repeating her own words back to her.
Blush spread across her freckled face. “Shut it, Hudson.”
Chef Thomas rounded the corner of the room with two bowls stacked on his arm and a small cutting board of bread. He set the bowls in front of us, clam chowder filled to the rim of the small containers. “Your appetizers.”
