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“So beautiful,” he says, gazing at me. His eyes penetrate my soul, and my skin gets all warm and tingly. He isn’t talking about the sunset anymore, and I blush. Thank God I’m too tan for him to notice.
A few short minutes later, we pull up in front of a marina. The driver gets out and opens both passenger doors. As we exit, Chase says, “The boat is at the other end of the dock. Follow me.”
We head down a long boardwalk flanked by dozens of boats, each one bigger than the next. The boardwalk ends at a floating dock. We carefully step down onto the not-so-sturdy surface while continuing to follow Chase. At the end of the dock is a large sailboat. It has to be at least sixty feet long. There is a man at the edge of the gangplank to help us on board. “Good afternoon, Mr. Remington,” a crew member greets Chase. He nods his head as he makes his way to the gangplank.
“How’s the weather?” he asks.
“Perfect. Not a cloud in the sky. Calm seas with just enough wind to keep us moving.”
“Excellent,” he mumbles as he climbs aboard. Brenda and I take a seat toward the back of the boat on a long, cushioned bench. Chase disappears below deck and comes back with a bottle of Clicquot and three glasses.
Someone from below follows him up with an ice bucket and places it in a large hole on the backside of the boat where it fits in perfectly. No matter how much the boat pitches and rolls, the bucket will remain stationary. Passing us each a glass, he motions for the crew member to open the bottle, and does so with ease. The pop of the cork always makes me jump and Brenda chuckles low in her throat, shaking her head in amusement. Chase shoots me a sideways glance as he fills our glasses, giving me a wink. Why am I beginning to get the feeling I’ve been set up?
Looking over at Brenda, she gives me a huge smile. Oh, yes, this was definitely planned. I narrow my eyes at her and she blows me a kiss before turning to look out over the water. Devious woman! I take a large sip of champagne.
Chase finishes pouring and sits directly in front of us in a chair bolted to the floor, his eyes focusing on me. The captain approaches Chase as the crew scurries around the ship, untying knots so we can get underway. “We will be getting underway momentarily,” he says before walking back toward his post.
“Thank you,” Chase mutters, his blue irises shimmering and dancing from the reflection off the water as he gazes at me.
With that, the boat floats away from the dock, the motor starts, and we head out toward the Gulf of Mexico. Once we are far enough away and out of the no wake zone, the crew unties the sail. It billows up and the boat jolts forward.
Chase was right, of course. It’s beautiful out on the open water, but I’ll never admit that to him. I sit back and enjoy the ride, sipping on my champagne. Once the crew finishes with the sails, one member comes over and refills our glasses. I stand up and head toward the bow.
Holding on to the railing with one hand, I look out over the water. Bottlenose dolphins flank the side of the boat, appearing to race us, creating quite the sight. Taking a deep breath, I relax and enjoy the motion of the boat, swaying back and forth as we glide across the water. My eyes drift to the horizon, watching the sun glisten off the tranquil water. I close my eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on my face, and sense rather than see someone come up behind me.
“Hello, beautiful,” he murmurs close to my ear. I turn to see Chase’s beautiful smile.
“I had a dream about you the night before the wedding,” I say, turning my body toward him.
“Oh, really?” Chase says, leaning forward on the rail so we’re eye to eye.
“You told me not to marry Evan.”
“Did I now? Did I give a reason?”
“You told me to follow my heart and everything wasn’t what it seemed. Then you disappeared into the surf.”
“It seems I give good advice in dreams, too.”
“Yes, apparently you do,” I say, my face twisting into a partial smile. “I thought it was real. It felt so rea
l. Then I woke up in a panic. I should have followed your advice,” I say with a quiet sigh, my head dipping low.
“Hey,” he says softly, “you couldn’t have known. He was very good at hiding the truth.”
“That’s what worries me. If I didn’t know about him, what else don’t I know?” I ask, my voice trailing off as I gaze back out at the ocean. The soft, salty breeze whispers across my face, blowing my hair back.
“So, that’s what’s been bothering you?”
“I don’t know who to trust. I feel like everything is one big lie.”
“Look, I can tell you to trust me, but you should figure that out on your own. My life’s an open book,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Ask me anything.”
“Are there any other women I should know about?”
“Besides my stalker?” he asks, trying to lighten the mood. A smile crosses his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “By the way, my locks have all been changed. She won’t be able to get in again.”
“Yes, besides her.”
