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My eyes widen a little at just how on the nose she is about my feelings. But, as soon as she says it out loud, I realize how absolutely ridiculous my feelings are.
I stroke her cheek. “Don’t be sorry. For any of it. There are worse ways I could be spending my time than trapped on a boat with a beautiful woman like you.”
She blushes a little. “Let’s try to survive for a couple of hours, and then we can have them turn it around.”
I arch an eyebrow. “You can have them turn the yacht around at any time, and they’ll listen to you?”
Skye turns toward me with an amused smile. “You really thought they were kidnapping us and holding us hostage until we had the romantic date that they wanted, didn’t you?”
I shrug. “Bayron came to my room, forced me to wear this outfit, and then escorted me down to the beach where he told me to stay. Then, he forced me onto a boat, and I have no idea how long I will be on it. Seems like kidnapping to me.”
She places her hand on my chest, running it over the smooth fabric, feeling the muscles that ripple beneath her hand. “You’re right. This shirt is horrible.” She winks at me. “And I’ll let you repay the favor by kidnapping me anytime.” Her hand dances across my chest as she looks to her right. “It looks like dinner is ready.” She sighs.
I look to my left and see three waiters with a fancy table with a white tablecloth and red roses everywhere. This is going to be the most romantic date of my life in the most romantic of places. This is meant to be the start of an epic love story. It’s just not the love story that either of us wants.
I walk over to the table and pull out the chair like the gentleman that I am for Skye to sit.
She shakes her head and walks over to the other chair. She pulls it out herself and takes a seat.
I rub the back of my neck, completely bewildered by this woman.
“This isn’t a date. Take a seat, Romeo,” she says, pointing at the chair that I just pulled out for her.
I take a seat. “I thought that was exactly what this was. A date.”
“What do you want to drink?” she asks me.
“Wine.”
“No, not wine. What else do you want?”
“Bourbon.”
She looks at the waiters. “Bring us a bottle of bourbon and tequila and two glasses. Then, leave us alone until we call for you.”
The waiters nod and then leave to I assume follow her instructions.
“Why can’t we have wine?” I ask.
“Because wine is for people on a date.”
“And we aren’t on a date?” I ask, still not understanding what we are doing then.
“Exactly. We aren’t on a date.” She reaches into the middle of the table, grabbing the red roses sitting on the table. “Get the petals,” she commands.
I quickly sweep the flower petals into my hand, not sure what we are doing with them. Two waiters return with the bottles and glasses.
“Set them on the table in the center,” Skye commands.
They do without hesitation or blink of the eye.
“Now, take these, and leave us alone. We will come inside to grab food later.” Skye holds out the flowers, and I do the same. The waiters take the flowers and petals and leave us alone.
Skye grabs the tequila bottle and glass and pours herself a glass almost completely full with way more tequila than what she should be drinking. She takes a swig as she leans back in the chair until the front legs are off the ground. “Better. Now, it’s not a date.”
I nod as I look around at the yacht. She might have taken away the flowers and the wine, but we are still on a boat with gold-colored edging and dark wood floors, which costs more than quadruple the price of most people’s houses. We are still alone on a yacht in the middle of the ocean with the sun setting before us. Getting rid of a few flowers doesn’t get rid of the fact that this is definitely a date.
“Now, you just need to get rid of the sunset and start burping or something so that I stop thinking of you as this beautiful woman I want to fuck.”
