“Hey.” Cade pulled me closer and pressed a kiss to my head, lowering his voice. “Tonight, Darling.”
The promise sent a full-body shiver through me, and I wet my lips before a grin threatened to split my face in half. “Can’t wait.”
manicured claws
. . .
Cade
Ship-wide announcement courtesy of Dr. Bliss Lovejoy:
Reminder that the Love Olympics are tomorrow! All couples must report to the main deck by noon for an afternoon of fun and friendly competition. Wear your swimwear.
I carried the platter of croissants back to our room without Ellie even needing to ask, and three more disappeared before our next scheduled event.
Then I had the longest day of my life.
Lovejoy was determined to pack as many mandatory activities as possible into the two days left. Today, she roped us into morning yoga, a gratitude walk, crafts time, and a wine tasting. I moved through them on autopilot, knowing each one meant I was one step closer to being alone with Ellie tonight.
That made the day feel even longer.
When Lovejoy finally dismissed us from our last activity—sensual journaling—I thought we were finally home free.
…Until I remembered my mother had summoned us for dinner on her private balcony.
My mother actually behaved herself for a moment at dinner, before things inevitably went downhill.
Her balcony faced a picture-perfect sunset. Orange and purple hues blended the sky and ocean, and I had to stop myself from studying their bright reflection in Ellie’s eyes.
The first course consisted of general pleasantries. My mother kept her manicured claws sheathed—even when Ellie accidentally knocked her water glass into a plate of tuna crudo.
For the second course, Mother asked more about Ellie’s career, and Ellie lied about her current duties at the cat café while scratching at a growing red splotch on her neck.
The main course arrived just as Ellie was slathering caviar onto a roll from the bread basket, while I watched in amusement.
My mother droned on about the upcoming galas sheinsistedI make an appearance at while Ellie took a big bite of the roll—then froze.
It took every ounce of my restraint not to burst out laughing at the deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.
I leaned closer to her, lowering my voice. “Something wrong?”
Ellie didn’t move—she didn’t even breathe—before slowly picking her red cloth napkin off her lap and raising it to her lips. My mother rambled on and drank her wine, oblivious to Ellie trying and failing to subtly spit out the contents of her mouth into the napkin before answering me.
“I think the jam might be expired,” she whispered with a grimace. “It tasted off. Really off.”
My mouth betrayed me, curving up. “That’s not jam. It’s caviar.”
Her brows drew together, and she stared at the roll before a shudder raced through her. “Oh. Oh…I don’t think I’m a fan.”
I wisely chose not to tell her it cost over a grand per ounce. She’d easily slathered at least a few ounces onto her roll, and knowing Ellie, she’d freak out.
“What about you, Ellie?” my mother asked, pasting on a smile I knew physically pained her. “Which galas are you attending this season?”
Determined not to talk over Ellie or treat her like arm candy this time, I took a bite of sea bass and braced myself for her answer.
“I haven’t really been to a gala before, so whichever ones Cade can take a plus-one to, I guess,” she answered jokingly, letting out a little laugh, which my mother didn’t join in on. Ellie immediately reached for her neck, but I intercepted her hand before she could scratch again.
I’d done it without thinking, but it felt effortless.
