Page 72 of Have To Be Mine

“A surprise?”

I followed Dash down to the harbor. He kept glancing back at me with this smug little smile that told me he was pleased with himself.

“Where are we going?” I asked for the third time.

He laughed. “Do you know how surprises work? You have to wait and see.”

We turned down a private pier where several yachts were docked. I assumed we were meeting someone for the next phase of the production. Dash kept walking until we reached a stunning white yacht at the end of the pier.

“This is us,” he said.

I stopped. “What does that mean?”

“I chartered it. For the night. For us.”

I stared at him. “You what?”

He shrugged. “We both deserve a break. Just one night. Just you and me on the water.”

“Dash, this is crazy.”

He winked at me and leaned in close. “Don’t worry. I made sure they’re stocked up on sunblock.”

I looked at the yacht. It was easily a hundred feet long, gleaming white with teak decks and several levels. It was luxury like I’d never experienced before. It was overwhelming.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” I said.

“Also taken care of. There’s stuff in your cabin.”

“My cabin?”

He grinned. “Come on.”

I let him lead me aboard. A crew member in crisp whites greeted us and showed us around. The main salon was all leather and polished wood. There was a dining area, a full bar, and floor-to-ceiling windows. The upper deck had a hot tub and lounging areas. And below deck were the cabins.

I was shown to my private quarters. It was bigger than my first apartment. A king-sized bed dominated the space, covered in white linens that looked softer than clouds. There was a seating area with a couch and a table. A full bathroom with a massive shower. And on the bed was an outfit.

Linen pants in a soft cream color. A matching linen top that looked breezy and effortless. Both pieces had the subtle Blackwell Couture label inside.

I picked up the pants and held them against my waist. They looked like they’d fit perfectly.

He’d planned this well, proving once again he could move mountains when he was motivated enough. It was beyond flattering to know he had gone through so much effort just for me. No one had ever done anything so kind.

I changed slowly, careful of my sunburn. The linen was soft against my skin, not irritating the burn at all. The pants sat low on my hips and the top had a relaxed fit that somehow managed to look elegant instead of sloppy. I looked at myself in the mirror and nodded.

I looked feminine. Effortlessly chic. Like I belonged on a yacht in the Greek islands. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like an imposter.

I found Dash on the sundeck. He’d changed too, into white linen pants and a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked like he’d stepped out of a resort catalog.

“There she is,” he said, turning when he heard me.

I suddenly felt self-conscious. “It fits.”

“It looks perfect on you.” He pointed to the most ridiculous sun hat I’d ever seen. The brim had to be at least two feet wide. “For your face.”

I burst out laughing. “That’s absurd.”

“So is that sunburn.”