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“I made us,” she paused, emphasizing that there was food for two in the cooler, “pasta salad, fresh fruit, sandwiches. Oh, and I packed drinks, too, just in case.”
“Sounds promising. What kind of sandwiches?” he asked.
“Tuna salad. Extra mayo.”
He had popped the trunk to the Jag and was in the process of putting the cooler and his bag inside when he paused to look at her, his lip curled in disgust.
“Sick. Really?”
“I’ve known you for a decade,” she said. “Do you really think I’d do that? I was just kidding. Turkey club. No mayo on yours.”
Shooting her a disgusted look, he said, “I don’t understand how you can possibly enjoy mayonnaise. It’s disgusting.”
He took the backpack she’d slung over her shoulder and added it to the trunk.
After a moment, he said, “But thank you for remembering,” and then smiled at her.
Moving to her side of the car, he opened the door so she could get in.
Glancing up at him once she’d settled into the passenger seat, she said, “Aren’t you a gentleman today?”
He smirked and said, “I’m a gentleman every day, Chloe.”
Shutting her door, he walked around to his side of the car. Sliding in, he backed out of the driveway and headed toward the marina. Twenty minutes later, bags and cooler in tow, they made their way to the boat.
He had decided on a pleasure boat because he doubted he’d be up for water skiing, and wanted a boat big enough that he could take people out fishing. The upkeep was a total bitch, but it was worth it when he had a chance to go out on the water.
Moving the boat closer to the dock, he set the bags and cooler inside, then climbed in. Chloe stumbled as she moved into the boat. For a moment their bodies were flush against one another as he steadied her. He could feel her breasts pressing into his chest. He tried not to focus on that fact as he backed way, and straightened himself out.
He asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I slid. I’m good now. Thanks.”
He watched as she grabbed their bags and moved them into the cabin area and set them on the small couch, then turned back to the entrance.
He lugged the cooler into the small cabin area and moved the food and drinks into the minifridge.
They moved out to the deck of the boat and untied the lines that connected the boat to the dock like they had done a million times. Climbing up onto the sun deck, Chris started the boat, and slowly started to creep out of the slip.
Chris looked back for a moment and saw Chloe leaning back against the bench seat to his left, with a grin on her face. He continued idling the boat toward the harbor exit, until he heard Chloe say, “Shit. I forgot my camera. I’ve got a couple minutes until we start really moving right?”
Looking over at her again, he said, “Yeah. Be careful, please.”
Rolling her eyes, she got up, and climbed down the ladder to the main deck of the boat. A few moments later, she said, “I’m back. I managed not to injure myself or anything else.”
“Impressive.”
Sticking her tongue out, she moved the camera up and took a picture of him. Well, mostly of his hand, since he immediately shot it up to block her picture.
“Oh. Come on, Chris. Just a couple. You know I scrapbook.”
“I get final approval,” he said. “I don’t want you using anything where my mouth is hanging open or I look stupid.”
Waving her hand in dismissal, she said, “Whatever. You take amazing pictures. I don’t think you even have a bad angle.”
“I still get final approval?” he asked, not acknowledging her obvious attempt at flattery.
“Fine. You can delete any of them that you’re in that you don’t like at the end of the day.”
