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Chapter Twelve
“What is this?” Kris stared at the structure in front of her.
Nate grinned at her from the deck, looking ridiculously handsome with his windswept brown hair and green T-shirt that matched the color of his eyes. He was a yacht club ad come to life. “It’s a boat.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
“Hey, you asked.”
“It was a rhetorical question and you know it.” Kris pushed a lock of hair out of her face. It was windy as hell by the water, and her carefully coiffed waves were unraveling faster than the seams of a cheap sweater. “I thought we were getting dinner.”
“We are. On here.” Nate held out his hand. “C’mon, princess. Don’t tell me you’ve never been on a boat before.”
“Of course I have,” Kris sniffed. She took Nate’s hand, the sensation of his rough, warm skin on hers sending a pleasant shock through her system. “Is it yours?”
“I wish. Nah, it belongs to an old sailing buddy of mine. He let me borrow it for the night.”
Kris stepped onto the boat. It swayed gently beneath her, and she was glad she wore her Roger Vivier suede flats tonight instead of heels. “I didn’t know you sailed.”
“I used to. There’s nothing like the peace and freedom you feel on the water…” Nate’s voice trailed off before he cleared his throat. “I don’t have time for it anymore, but figured tonight is a special occasion, so why the hell not?”
He took Kris on a quick tour of the boat. There wasn’t much to see beyond the deck and a tiny cabin with a V-berth bed, bathroom, kitchenette, two stripe-cushioned benches, and an adjustable table. It was the smallest boat she’d ever seen.
“It’s nice,” she said, following Nate back up to the deck.
His laughter rumbled in the salty sea air. “You say ‘nice’ the way a vegan would say a steak is ‘nice.’”
Kris’s mouth twitched. “I’m serious. It’s not a yacht, but it’s cozy.”
“You prefer this to a yacht?” Nate sounded skeptical as he steered the boat out of its slip.
“‘Prefer’ is too strong a word, but I don’t hate it. The boat, I mean.”
He flashed a quick smile. “High compliment, coming from you.”
“It is,” she said solemnly.
Nate laughed again, and this time Kris joined him.
She couldn’t keep up with her feelings toward him. They flipped constantly from lust to irritation to…whatever. She wasn’t going to think about it. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like she was going to see Nate again after this weekend. Once his job was done, it was done.
A sudden bout of nausea hit her, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was from the rocking motion of the waves.
“Also, I didn’t mention this earlier, but…” Nate tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I also wanted to apologize for Saturday. For…”
“Leaving me high and dry on the verge of orgasm like a total asshole?”
He broke into a coughing fit, his face so red it could’ve doubled as a stop sign. “Uh, yeah.”
“No worries.” Kris smiled sweetly. “Too bad you stopped before I could live out the fantasies I had while I got myself off later that night. Your loss.”
Another coughing fit, accompanied by a far more interesting development below Nate’s belt. Either he had a gun in his pocket, or he was doing some fantasizing of his own.
Payback’s a bitch.
Kris conveniently left out the fact that Nate had starred in every one of her fantasies, and that she’d come harder to mental images of him than she had during any of her actual sexual encounters.
“Don’t suppose you can share some of those fantasies with me? Or better yet, reenact the whole shebang.” Nate paused. “Get it? She-bang.”
