Taking her hand, he leads us to an expansive teak deck. Another breeze bathes us in warm, salty air. Katherine comes to an abrupt halt, surveying the low loungers and outdoor dining table, complete with a fresh flower arrangement. Coming from New York, where everything exists in muted tones… this place feels like a Technicolor dream.
“This is incredible,” Katherine says, voice full of awe. “What are we going to do with all this space?”
King worked hard to make sure every detail, from the linens to the chef to the flowers, was perfect for us. This yacht is a blend of modern and traditional, feminine and masculine, with plenty of space and comfort to take us wherever we may want to go.
He looks every bit the part in his deck shoes. Like he was born to own a floating villa.
I step next to them and lace my fingers with hers. “I’ve got a few ideas.”
She flashes a cheeky grin my way. “Christen every lounger?”
I dip mychin. “To start.”
“You’re so cheesy,” King murmurs.
A little thread of tension in my chest loosens and dissolves. This place will give him the space he needs to breathe. Something to run away to when New York gets too claustrophobic. Not only is it big enough and airy enough with so many giant windows and glass doors, but it also comes with all the toys we could ever use.
Even with Alex’s amazing surprise of buying the townhouse out from under me, there was still a piece of me that worried if King could be happy there with us. And I know that’s been keeping Katherine up at night as well. Twice, I’ve found her rummaging through the refrigerator at midnight like a cute little trash panda. It’s amazing the intimacies and secrets one will share over Destiny’s homemade ice cream.
I slide a hand over Katherine’s hip, around her middle, and tug her back against me. Is she having any anxiety about being on a yacht again? The last time she was aboard one had not been with her consent. Sometimes it feels like those weeks before Memorial Day were a dream.
Part fantasy, part nightmare. But now, everything is in focus, no pinching necessary.
“Which one should we start with, Princess?” I let my tone drip with seduction.
“Tour’s not over,” King corrects, crossing to the outdoor bar with extra spring in his step.
I smirk back at Alex, who watches everything with stoic interest. Ten grand says we’re too close to the shore and the sun is way too bright for him to allow any back deck shenanigans. Either way, I do love poking, prodding, and teasing him. And King, for that matter.
King makes a show of pouring us all a drink.
“Thank you,” she says as he hands over a glass of chilled chardonnay.
I don’t have to see her face to hear the smile in her voice. My girl is happy. I never really understood the whole ‘if she’s happy, then I’m happy’ thing.
But with Katherine, it’s a little different. It settles something inside me when I bring her pleasure. When she gives me a smile that’s just for me. When she laughs at my bullshit, or we share an inside joke.
And it’s basically the same with King. I love his goofy moments. Like now, when he acts like a bartender from a trendy club, throwing the shaker in the air. All those years drifting from town to town serving drinks have come in handy.
Alex and I accept a glass. Scotch for him, martini for me.
“You planned all this?” she asks, looking around as she sips her wine.
I know her; she’s absorbing every detail. The ruse is almost up.
But this is his show, so we’re happy to let him lead. Besides, the man makes a wicked martini.
“We did,” King says, giving me and Alex some of the credit, too. “You know as well as I do that we all weren’t going to fit on my sailboat.”
He gives her a sultry once-over, and the smirk gracing his lips says there are plenty of good memories in those tight quarters.
She gives a girlish grunt. “You and I barely fit on your sailboat.”
He circles the bar, all loose hips and loads of swagger. “You’re not wrong, babe.” Then he steals her glass and takes a little sip.
“I have something to show you,” he says as he hands her glass back.
“The bedroom?” she guesses.
